AN: Hello Lovelies! Another chapter so soon, I'm on a roll today. So I just wanted to put a bit of a warning here, this story will probably get a little dark and be dealing with PTSD in some parts. Just a warning in case people don't like that sort of thing.

Any how, thank you to those who have favourited and followed this story and reviewed, it makes me very happy to know that there are people who like reading what I'm writing and it was a great incentive to get this chapter up and finished. We see a lot more from Thorin's perspective in this chapter and how he perceives our lovely Orana and we see a bit of possible backstory for her so hope you enjoy :).

Orana glanced over at the dwarf set up on her table. With luck and a fair bit of patience he'd be better in a day or two. Thankfully over her many years she'd learned a thing or two about patience.

The dwarf had fallen asleep again, his mouth slightly open and softly snoring. She couldn't help the small smile that graced her face at the sight. He was a prickly thing to be sure but most dwarves were wary of strangers so that was nothing new. She wondered what the dwarf was doing here so far from the Iron Hills. Absently scratching her scar Orana came to the conclusion that he could be heading to Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains. Yes that made sense, the dwarves had become scattered after the fall of Erebor so it was not so strange to see them travelling between the two strongholds.

Orana turned back to the sleeping dwarf, two bowls of stew in hand. She set one bowl down near his head while quietly pulling up a chair next to him. Setting the other bowl down, she peeked under the dwarfs bandages. Her remaining golden eye scrutinised the wound. It seemed to be healing well, the swelling had already begun to go down which was a good sign. As long as the wound didn't reopen and the dwarf didn't do anything stupid he should avoid infection.

"Well?"

The dwarfs gruff voice made Orana jolt, her eyes snapping upwards to the now very awake dwarf. He cocked a brow at her and she let the bandage return to its normal place.

"So far it looks like it will heal nicely" she said, pushing the bowl of stew towards him. He glanced at it suspiciously but slowly took the offered bowl, his hunger winning out. The stew was the first substantial meal he'd had in days and it took all his will power not to gulp it down all at once. He caught the eye of Orana who was trying very hard not to show her amusement and apparently failing because Thorin shot her a scowl.

"What are you?" he demanded suddenly, bowl forgotten. Orana didn't look up from her stew. She didn't even look at him as she answered.

"The one healing and feeding you Master Oakenshield, you'd do well to remember some manners in my home" she suddenly looked up, catching his gaze, golden eye blazing.

"Oakenshield" his blood turned to ice. He had never mentioned Oakenshield to her. Suddenly he was off the table. He felt something pop and realised he'd torn his stiches but that didn't stop him from grabbing his sword.

"Who are you? How do you know me?" he growled.

Orana cursed and stood, holding her hands up in surrender. She took a step forward but the sword pointed at her chest stopped her in her tracks.

"My name is Orana, I have no last name" she said slowly "I mean you no harm"

"How do you know me? I will not ask a second time!"

"If I wanted you dead Master Oakenshield I would have left you in that ditch" she finally snapped, startling Thorin with the venom in her words. She huffed a frustrated breath, calming herself down before continuing.

"I know of you. We have met before, in passing. It was a long time ago and you were not quite in the right mind when we did"

Thorin cast his mind back but did not lower the sword from her heart. There was something…familiar about her but he didn't recall….

"Moria" he finally said looking at her again "You were at Moria"

Her eyes, he did remember those eyes but couldn't recall anything else, his memories from Moria were fuzzy but that was what lack of sleep, food and water did to you in the middle of a battle.

Orana let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and nodded in relief. Thorin slowly lowered his sword but the tension did not dissipate.

"You are not a healer" It was a statement not a question.

"No" Slowly, not removing her eyes from that of the dwarf's she returned to her abandoned seat.

"How could you tell?"

Thorin remained where he was standing. These latest revelations had done nothing to make him lower his guard towards her. In fact it might have done the opposite. Vulnerable in the house of an unknown warrior of what race he did not know, it was dangerous indeed.

"I knew as soon as I woke up" Orana did not seem surprised by this "You carry yourself like a warrior, one who's seen their fair share of battles"

That made her chuckle, though it was not a happy sound.

"You're very right Master Oakenshield" the woman touched her scar "Orcs gave me this scar and have done more wrong to me than you can imagine"

"That is doubtful" the dwarf spat, his mind immediately going to his Grandfather and Father. What does this woman know about anything of life's hardships? She had not lost her home or her family. She had not been reduced to begging in the streets. No she knew nothing.

Orana launched to her feet, towering over the dwarf and thrust her finger in his direction

"Do not presume to know me dwarf!" she thundered "I have more right than you to hate Orcs, more than you will ever know!"

Thorin watched in rapt horror as the woman began to change before his eyes. Her nails grew dark and stretched, turning to wicked claws while her sharp teeth grew even longer and gleamed with deadly intent. She looked like a demon from the old tales and its fury was fixed on him. In that moment, Thorin thought that the woman would lunge but with a roar she spun and slammed her fist into the table instead. The wood cracked under the weight of the blow.

Orana breathed deeply, her eyes screwed shut and bowed her head. Her stance had changed so quickly it left Thorin reeling. It went from that of a predator to that of a woman who was…ashamed?

"I-I" Orana faltered "Forgive me" she brushed past Thorin, going straight for the door and threw it open. She glanced back at the bewildered dwarf but quickly looked away

"Everything you need to stitch up your wound is in the bottom chest to the left in the kitchen".

And then she was gone, disappeared into the night leaving Thorin alone to stare after her. Slowly the dwarf king walked over to the chest she had mentioned and gathered some thread and a needle. As he began stitching up his newly reopened wound Thorin tried to figure out what had just happened. It was clear now, very clear that this Orana woman was not a human, not that he had ever really thought she was in the first case; this simply confirmed it. What he had seen…he would not have believed if he hadn't seen it for himself. That rage, that madness…it was its own beast. It was something he had seen before in his grandfather Thrain's eyes. But Thrain's sickness was that of greed, the Dragon sickness. This? This was something else entirely; something not born of greed but of fear. Thorin could not help but pity the woman. Her fear was a sickness of the mind, something that had grown over many years. Perhaps she had been right in saying that she had lost more than he ever had to the Orcs, at least his mind was his own. His stomach twisted when he realised that she must have been their prisoner and for many years to cause such a thing. His fist tightened around the needle at the thought. Dwarven woman were few and far between and it was simply instinct for male dwarves to want to protect them and keep them safe. He could not stop the sudden images of what may have befallen the woman while in their grasp. She was a warrior and incredibly strong if the split table was anything to go by; to subdue her would have been no easy feat.

Thorin shook his head. It would do no good to dwell on uncertainties; however he had made up his mind about one thing. He wanted answers. Seeing as he was stuck here until he was fit to travel, some answers were justified.

With that in mind Thorin finished his stitching then gathered some of the fur pelts before he settled into the over sized armchair. He was asleep in moments.

Orana did not return to her home that night.

AN: And the plot thickens hahaha. I'd love some reviews to tell me how I'm going with this, if Thorin is in character or how you like Orana so far. As always thank you for reading!