DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of The Hobbit do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Inara, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. It DOES mean they might develop in slightly different ways.

THIS STORY IS NON-SLASH.

DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.

Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!

WARNINGS: This is a very disturbing fic. Those who have trouble with depictions of torture, angst, horror, etc, are strongly recommended to give this a pass. If you do read and it upsets you, that's your own fault.

Okay, enough of this author stuff. Enjoy!

Dwalin and Inara Orcslayer were on their way back to their home in the Lonely Mountain of Erebor when they were ambushed.

They had been on a simple hunting trip. That they had been out at all had been due to Thorin's insistence that Inara not coop herself up in the mountain for too long. She was human and needed the sun, he insisted, and it was either go hunting a couple of times a year or be dragged away for a while. She had chosen the former, of course. An angry Thorin was a daunting prospect, and if she hadn't listened, he would have been. He would never hurt her, but the shouting matches provoked by his temper tended to give her a headache. So, she had gone, taking Dwalin with her as another concession to Thorin's concern about her safety.

She was well able to take care of herself. She hadn't earned the name Orcslayer by being some frail, fainting female. However, she had to admit that there were times she needed a little help. So she hadn't objected overmuch when her husband "suggested" she take Dwalin along.

Now, she was glad she had him with her. Orcs were dangerous at best, but these seemed to be even more so. They were organized, moving as a team, and the thought disturbed her. She had only seen one other band like this, and it had been an army that sought to take Erebor and kill Thorin Oakenshield. Her husband and King of Erebor, King Under the Mountain. It had been under the direction of a Gundabad Orc, the likes of which Inara had seen only once and wished never to see again.

They were quickly subdued and bound, nearly dragged into a cave some distance away, and thrown into a cage made of bones. She shuddered and moved a little closer to Dwalin before she was able to compose herself.

"Easy, lass," Dwalin said softly. They had been separated from their weapons, of course. "We'll get out of here. Just have to think of the way." He was already searching the place for possible exits. If he could just reach one of the daggers hidden in his belt... "Inara. Back up against me."

She did as he asked, her fingers touching his lightly. Did he mean for her to untie him? She couldn't work the knots, they were too tight. "Now what?"

"In my belt." He couldn't get his fingers on it, he couldn't raise his arms to the right angle with the ropes on his wrists. "See if you can reach my knife."

"You keep a knife hidden in your belt." She should have known. He probably even went armed in his bedchamber. She was searching quickly. "Dwalin, we need to talk about your paranoia." But she was able to get her fingers on it and had begun to draw it from its sheathe when a commotion near the back of the cave caught their attention.

"Wait," he hissed. "Don't let them know we've got it. We might need it when they come for us."

A sudden silence warned them and they turned to look out of their prison in time to see the huge Orc enter the cave. Sudden comprehension flared when it turned to regard them. Inara had never seen such a dangerous, evil looking creature, even when Razhnok had nearly killed Thorin on the battlefield months before. This one made him look like an unbreeched youngster. He was huge and he looked beyond cruel.

Dwalin twitched. This was a Gundabad Orc, one of the northern type, cruel and vicious. And he had a certain resemblance to one Dwalin had known before: Azog the Defiler, who had been so intent on killing Thorin. If this one was the same, they were in trouble. "Inara, listen to me," he murmured. "Do NOT let them know we're from Erebor." He couldn't say why he felt it was important, only that it was. "No matter what, don't let them know." If this thing was truly Azog's spawn, they were in worse trouble than he'd thought. It might know who he was, regardless.

It sniffed a bit and growled. "Dwarf," he said simply, "and human. Is it a pet, Dwarf? Humans are worthless as anything else. More slow and stupid than even Dwarves." It regarded them steadily. It stepped back for a moment, watching them. "Bring me the human."