So, it's very, very early Saturday morning so don't get too hyped up about my lateness...

Thank you readers and to my reviewers.

Vault108: All questions answer in this chapter... I think. And yes moving sucks. We've moved 11 times in the past eight years.

Lol (guest): Melekkhathuzhinh means half-elf-lady in khuzdul. I think that's what your asking...

UKReader: Thank you... I didn't want Thorin to be boring and I wanted Ahvain's personality to kind of bring out the Thorin I imagine before Smaug.

Warning for this chapter and the next. It might be a little graphic, boarder line 'M' rated... but I don't know...

Chapter 5: Agrîfat

Ahvain awoke to the sound of Thorin working in the forge. They both had much to catch up on and would most likely spend the better part of the day making up for the time they spent at Eragin and Kars'. Not that she minded. It only meant that the two of them would work for hours with unspoken dialogue and the sharp pings and tinkings. After a mild stretch that sent a line of pops down her spinal column she dressed and pulled her hair up into a now clean hair cap, not bothering to tuck the stray pieces back under.

In the days after Thorin had learned of her lineage, Ahvain had made sure to focus on how he was treating her. If he was going to acting uncomfortable around her after learning of her elven blood, then she wanted to address it. But no such issue arose-which she was very pleased about-and they continued on like the days before the knowledge was learned. She had told him the truth yesterday. He was kind and last night proved him protective.

She checked her profile in a glass reflection. Even with the cap covering her silk like hair and round pointed ears she looked every bit the half-elf that she was. It would be hard for Thorin to ignore it now.

But, now that he knew she felt conflicted. Part of her told her to relax, not to hide her elfish side from him. But the other side, the more dominate side, told her that she should try to hide those pointed ears, the elven traits, because if he couldn't see past the natural dwarven hatred for elves, he'd leave. And Ahvain really, really, didn't want to go yet. Of course she couldn't make him stay, but the thought of him leaving now just made her want to cry. It would be like losing her grandfather all over again.

With a heavy sigh she left her room and ventured out into the kitchen to grab an apple (Ahvain loved apples) before then meandering to the forge. Thorin was hammering away at something on the anvil and paused when he heard the door open.

He turned slowly, hammer raised partially, and gave her a small nod. "Good morning."

"Likewise." She noticed the amount of sweat on his brow (and everywhere else). "How long have you been awake?"

"Awhile." He turned back to his work. "I actually had started to think you had died, with the amount of noise I've been making; I would have thought you up hours ago."

He started to hammer the metal again, so she spoke in-between the hits. "I assure you, I'm quite alive."

"I would hope so."

Ahvain laughed. She would miss this when he left.

There were a few blunt objects that were in need of some sharpening. Grabbing the whetstone, she sat down and started the work. It was a slow process. They continued their work until the rumble of their stomachs stopped them. After the evening meal they returned to work again, this time Thorin worked on the sharpening and adjustments while Ahvain worked at the anvil, fixing bend in a weapon from the own over. Ahvain made a mental note, she-and perhaps Thorin- would have to journey back there soon to return finished pieces.

Throwing the piece she was working into the water, she wiped the sweat from her brow and took a glance out if the window. It was dark out, the moon not yet doing its job. She yawned.

"I'm going to go to bed after I'm finished with this piece." She took the metal from the water and examined her work. The bend was almost gone; it would only take her a little while longer to finish it.

"I've been thinking of retiring myself." He shrugged. "I figured it would be rude of me to leave you out here alone."

She chuckled, "Thank you, that's kind of you. But, if you really want to leave, you can. I won't stop you, or think any less of you."

"I'll stay… Make sure you don't try to repeat anything."

"Such as?"

"Burning off your hair."

She threw the metal into the red coals. "Oh, har har. That's what the cap is for."

Thorin smiled, his eyes twinkling in mirth.

Taking the heated metal from the fire she returned to work.

~karak~

Rough footsteps sounded from outside, the noise woke Ahvain from her slumber. She assumed it was Thorin, awakening before her again, and closed her eyes. In the moments she laid there between consciousness and sleep, her mind made her assumption false. While Thorin's footsteps
were heavy, they held a grace to them; those trudging around outside held no natural grace to them what so ever. "What would he be doing out there at this time anyways?"

The half-elf sat up on her bed and reached for a weapon hidden beneath her pillow. Someone was outside, making all sorts of racket.

In her nightclothes she left her room, the door behind her closing without a noise. Whoever was outside her home was ransacking through something and was too loud to hear her open the creaky door to
Thorin's room. With a small blade she crept over to the sleeping dwarf.

"Thorin," her voice slipped through the air in a whisper. "Wake up!"

He did so with a jolt, eyes wide in confusion. The look deepened when they caught her in their sight.

"What is it?" His voice was husky, gravely from sleep.

Ahvain put a finger to her lips and in the silent language of the dwarves signed the word 'listen', her finger tapping her ear and pointing out of the room. He did as she asked, when the noises meet
his ears he turned and gave her a nod and grabbed the sword that lay sheathed beside the bed. Together they moved into the kitchen, the normally creaky flooring never betraying them once. Thorin kept himself in front of Ahvain this time; he wasn't going to let her face harm this time.

A figure passed the window, the moon causing a shadow to fly about the room. Another fallowed a bit later.

"Quick! Get behind something!" Ahvain shouted in a whisper as she tried to pull him away.

No sooner had she done that two faces appeared in the window by the back door. One of them took the hilt of his sword and smashed the window in.

"Hurry, they would have heard that." One of the men reached through and unlocked the door before withdrawing his hand and opening the door. The one man entered and made it just a couple steps before Ahvain jumped from the hiding spot dagger raised.

"Get out of my house!"

The man sniggered, "What are you gonna do about it little dwarf-lover?"

The other man stepped into the house behind his comrade, a drawn bow in hand. Thorin growled and put himself in a protective stance, sword raised, in front of Ahvain.

"Oh, lookey `ere, she's got `er a loyal dog to guard `er." The man with the bow said, together they shared a laugh.

Thorin and Ahvain stood there watching, not sure of what to do. The man with the bow had changed the chances of taking the both of them and without knowing his skill Ahvain didn't want to risk injuring Thorin (they would most likely go for him first), as much as Thorin didn't want to risk getting Ahvain hurt.

"Is your little wench that good? Is she worth protecting?" Thorin's frown turned into an animalistic snarl.

"Stop speaking to her as if she's some common bed maid."

"We've `ffended the dwarf…" They laughed again and then started forward pushing the both of them back.

Thorin snarled when he couldn't back up anymore and could feel Ahvain against his back. Ahvain echoed him with a growl of her own, though hers was more vicious sounding sig than a growl.

She left the protection of Thorin and walked to the front door, the man's arrow following her movements.

"Let's leave them to their plundering; I will not watch them raid my home."

With a jerk, she opened and walked through the door. Thorin took a look back at the two thieves (he had been watching Ahvain) and followed her, only to nearly run into her as he exited the building.

Ahvain stood frozen on the steps of her home. A look around answered his unspoken question. A gang of men, on foot and on horses, lined the road outside. Each one of them held a weapon of sorts.

"Mahal above," whispered Thorin.

Thorin's heartbeat sped up as adrenaline started to work its way into his blood stream, the approaching fight to blame. Ahvain's, however, clenched in fright. There were far more men than the two of them could easily handle. She wouldn't be able to hold her own, not against the number present. Thorin might be able to though…

She dropped her dagger in surrender. A man stepped forward, a sword in his hand. The two recognized him.

"What are ye goin` to do now, wench?" It was the man from yesterday night.

Ahvain didn't answer.

"Ah, see lads, even th' brave ones can be silenced." He approached her, Thorin made to guard her but a sword to the throat kept him at bay, "Now, now Dwarf, I just want t' talk to th' strumpet."

Thorin dropped his sword, slightly, ready for the man to make a move. He, the man, pointed his sword at Ahvain now and made to circle her. From behind, the two men who had broke into the house grabbed Thorin and, though he struggled, held his arms behind his back and relieved him of his blade.

From his spot he could see curtains from the few homes around them be pulled back minutely before falling back into their original position. No help would come from the neighbors it seemed.

Ahvain let out a gasp as the men's leader grasped her by the hair and dragged her to the middle of the circle of men. The height difference and the sheer force of the man made it easy for the girl to be forced to her knees.

"We've embarrassed me in front of my men, know I shall regain my honor by humiliating you." He smirked and bent to her level. "I j'st don' know how I want t' yet."

Shouts of suggestions came from the men; some vile, others disturbing."

He ran a finger across her cheek. Ahvain's jaw clenched in defiance of her fear to be shown. Hatred could be seen in her eyes, pouring out like a river of tears. His fingers trailed lower to plat with the hem work on her night dress. Her whole body tensed.

Thorin's eyes narrowed in rage and he struggled against his captors. The leader saw and once again pointed his blade to the woman's throat.

"Stop struggling Dwarf, or I'll just kill 'er now."

Thorin stilled.

One of the men holding him patted his shoulder, "good boy." It was the one that had called him a dog earlier.

"Now," the leader returned his gaze to the kneeling woman, his fingers still at the hem of her dress, "This gives me an idea for what t' do with ya." He plucked at a seam.

Plans ran through the dwarf's head. "What can I do? How do I keep her safe? What should I do? What can I do?" Without another thought he said the only thing that he thought could work.

"Please," he didn't bother hiding the fear for the girl from his voice. "Take me instead."

Men sniggered and laughed, their leader giving a smirk as well.

"Hear that?" He whispered in the girl's ear as he circled around her, stopping when he was behind. "Your little bed mate doesn't want to see you hurt." He paused to play with her dress again, he could clearly see down it from his angle and this he very much enjoyed.

"What do you think," his fingers walked along her collarbone, "he would do if I did this?"

His harsh hands darted underneath the cloth and grab hold of a breast and started to knead at it. Ahvain gasped at the unwanted contact and tried to arch away from him. He only laughed and pulled her closer. Other from the crowd cheered for their leader.

An animal awoke in Thorin and he tried to lash out against his human restraints, growls, dwarven curses all left his mouth. The humans held him there successfully. One pulled a dagger and held it against him.

"Stop it, or you'll find yourself with a few 'oles in ya."

A new type of fear crept into the girl's blood, the man's hand was painful, unwanted, unwelcome and all sorts of other things. When his hand left she wanted to sigh in relief, however, it just moved to the other and she changed the sigh into a sob. Her violator bit into her neck before removing his uninvited hand for good.

"Say, lads, 'ow 'bout we leave so I can give th' little lady th' punishment she deserves?"

Cheers once again rumbled through group, 'yay's and cat calls alike.

Thorin's jaw was so tense he was waiting for his teeth to start cracking. The man pulled Ahvain from the ground and started walking her over to a horse with an empty saddle. Her eyes found his for a brief second. In them he could see a kind of fear he'd never seen before. Her emerald eyes starting to gloss over with tears, the slight tremble to her lip; all a silent plea for a rescue he could perform.

That was the last thing he saw before a blow to the base of his skull rendered him unconscious.

~karak~

Thorin awoke with a throbbing in his head. Upon remembering the occurrences of last night he shot up. They had moved him into Ahvain's house before they left.

Ahvain…

What had happened to her?

Had they killed her?

Had they hurt her?

"Of course they hurt her!" He tried to ignore his mind's answer.

How bad had they hurt her?

She had to be rescued! That was the only option.

But where to start?

The men had knocked him out and then left with her. They were thieves, bandits, people that had no true home, wonderers. How would he even know where to start searching?

It didn't matter as long as he did start searching. With a few unsteady steps, Thorin made his way to his room. He packed up his cloak, gripped his ax- his sword still outside (hopefully) –and anything else he would need and left the house to saddle up his pony.

The mares seemed to sense the distress fuming off of the dwarf and didn't give him any troubles as he readied his for the riding ahead of them. Ahvain's little mare, Pepper, watched Thorin as he saddled her stable buddy in front of her, her eyes darting around waiting for her turn; a turn that wasn't going to come.

Before Thorin left, he saw the black, white freckled mare watching them, almost as if she was asking him to return her lady home to her.

Thorin gave the mare a pat on her neck, "don't worry, I'll get her back."

He wasn't sure if he was talking to the pony, or trying to assure himself. Either way, Thorin straightened himself before mounting and taking off to the town.

~karak~

Her dress covered parts of her body in shreds. The cell she was being kept in allowed little light to be seen. Whether or not that was from the dark of night, or the seamless cage, she knew not.

Blood oozed from rashes on her wrists, and from a blow she'd taken on her head. A countless number of bruises marred her body, hurting her every time she even thought of moving. They also served as a reminder of things they'd done to her. Every unwanted touch, every hard, lustful, kiss they'd give her. Every smirk they made when she screamed in pain, struggle or cry for help not there.

She tried bringing her knees closer to her body, hugging herself trying to give any type of comfort she could get. It never worked; it only brought more pain, more memories. Ahvain shut her eyes tight, tears threatening to fall. When she could no longer hold them back, they fell, trailing down her face, cleaning the dirt but burning the wounds as they made their way down.

She wished Thorin to be there to comfort her; even if he didn't or couldn't just him being near would provide some relief. Ahvain had thought about this. The way she'd been acting around, she'd seen it before among the humans. She harbored feelings for the dwarf. Though she really didn't know him all that well, she felt them.

The doors opened down the hall. It was then Ahvain decided that she would live through this, if only to tell Thorin of her feelings toward him. At this point she didn't care if he wanted them or not, but she wanted him to know; wanted him to know that she had envisioned him breaking through the doors, ax and sword in hand, and sweeping her out of the hell hole she was in.

The leader, who went by the name Ret, appeared at the door of her cell, an evil, cruel smirk on his face. "Are you ready to play again, little strumpet?"

She flinched back and wished that she could just disappear into the corner of the cell, he laughed before unlocking the door, only to lock it behind him, and advancing to her, messing with the ties on his breeches.

Questions? Comments?

Do you guys hate me?

Anyways, the next chapter might be graphic-ish too, possibly worse than this one, so be warned.

The next one might take a bit to get out but should be done and posted be next week end...

Thank you :)