I am ashamed of this . . . but once it was written I couldn't NOT post it. . . I don't know why. Anyway, this is very different from anything I have written in the Hobbit fandom so far . . . much darker. I apologize for this fic from the bottom of my heart.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
WARNING: this fic contains a rather graphic non-con. If this is a trigger for you DO NOT read it.
The call to arms came so suddenly that Bilbo started awake, his heart pounding in his ears so loudly that he could not even here the sounds of battle surrounding him. Even without being able to hear it, he could see it. The clearing they had made camp in was filled with orcs. Thankfully the dwarves had not been taken by surprise, but it would still be a hard battle. They were greatly outnumbered but they were holding their own and even Bilbo had managed to make his mark on the fray killing an orc.
As he pulled his blade from its chest, Bilbo felt himself lifted into the air by his hair and felt something sharp at his throat.
"Put down your weapons," he heard a harsh voice call. "Put them down or I slit his throat and drink his blood." Thorin turned at the voice and saw Bilbo suspended by his hair by none other than Azog the Defiler, his iron claw pressed against the hobbit's throat. He glanced around for a way to free him but could see no way that he could do it before the orc ripped his throat out.
"Choose now, Thorin Oakenshield. Surrender or I kill this creature," the Defiler said once more. And just to prove his seriousness he pressed his claw a bit deeper into the hobbit's flesh drawing a bead of blood. Bilbo flinched in pain and met Thorin's eyes, silently begging him for forgiveness. He hadn't meant to place the King in such a position.
Thorin couldn't read the reason behind it, but he understood that the hobbit was begging him to do something. Even without the pleading in his frightened eyes, Thorin could not have stood by and allowed any member of the company to be killed if he could prevent it. There was no choice to make. With a growl he bent and placed his sword on the ground. Seeing their King surrender, the other dwarves followed suit.
Instantly orcs were upon them binding their hands and forcing them to their knees as they took their concealed weapons. Even in the position he was currently in, Bilbo had to marvel at the sheer number of weapons the dwarves managed to carry on their persons. Each one of them was a walking arsenal. With the threat subdued, Azog passed the hobbit to another orc—who proceeded to bind his hands as well—and walked towards Thorin.
"So, that was the secret to capturing the great Thorin Oakenshield," Azog mocked sneering down at the bound and disarmed Dwarf King. "I just had to threaten his pet."
"Bilbo's not a pet," Kíli snarled struggling against the orc that held him in his desire to attack Azog for insulting the hobbit. "He's a member of this company."
"A beardless being the companion of dwarves?" Azog sneered. "I think not. Either he is a pet or he . . ." sudden understanding dawned in the orc's face and he smiled cruelly at Thorin. "He is your mate. Someone to keep you company on this quest. He could have no other purpose. He is obviously no warrior."
"That is not true," Thorin said almost desperately. "I have never touched him." He did not know what Azog would do to Bilbo if he believed him to be Thorin's mate, but he would spare him that if he could. Especially as what Thorin had said was true. He might harbor fond feelings for the hobbit, but he had never touched him.
"Is that so? Tell me, creature," Azog asked in the same gravely tone he had used before, "have you ever been taken? And if not, do you have an interest in being?"
"Taken?" Bilbo said hoping that by being cooperative he could stall until he came up with a plan to free them. "I'm afraid I don't understand." He may not have, but the dwarves did and began to struggle against the orcs that held them. That thing was not going to touch Bilbo in that way. Rather than say anything, Azog looked levelly at Thorin and placed his hook against the hobbit's neck once more drawing another bead of blood.
"Stop," Thorin called feeling like he had ripped his own heart from his chest with the word. "Stop your struggles or they will kill him." He was breathing through his teeth in his frustration. He hated feeling powerless and there was nothing that he could do to save Bilbo from the fate that was coming. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life.
"Azog," Thorin said looking at the orc that had slain his grandfather. "Take me instead. What honor is there in taking the hobbit when you could have a king?" He knew that he was pleading and he couldn't care less. He could not stand by and watch the hobbit violated without trying to stop it.
"I do not desire honor, son of Thráin," the orc replied with a wicked smile. "I desire to see you suffer. And I believe it will pain you more to watch as I take this one that to be taken yourself." Thorin did not reply, but the fury that burned in his blue eyes told the Defiler everything that he needed to know. He had been right. With a curt nod to the orc that held Bilbo, it produced a knife and began to remove Bilbo's clothing. At the action, his eyes went wide.
What did they intend to do to him that he need to be naked for? He wasn't sure, but he knew that it could be nothing good. He looked at Thorin for some kind of reassurance, but the eyes of the dwarf king were haunted and his face held a pained expression that did nothing to calm Bilbo's nerves. The others were less help than Thorin had been as most of them could not bring themselves to look at the hobbit. Even Kíli—who had not taken his eyes off Bilbo since he had been captured—had looked away in shame.
"What are you doing?" Bilbo demanded as they forced him to his knees and pressed his face into the earth. Were they going to beat him? He knew that they intended to cause him pain in order to hurt Thorin, and had already decided that he would not cry out if he was able to avoid it even though he had already begun to tremble at the thought of pain. It was his fault that they were in this position in the first place. If only he hadn't been captured the dwarves would never have surrendered. He would do what he could to keep from causing them more pain. He only hoped he would be strong enough to withstand whatever the orcs had planned for him.
What he wasn't prepared for was the feeling of the orc's hand caressing his backside. He jumped at the gentle touch and heard the Defiler laugh.
"So sensitive," he said grinning at Thorin taking pleasure in the dwarf's impotent furry before he wrapped his clawed arm around Bilbo's waist to hold the hobbit in place and forced a finger into his opening. Bilbo let out a pained gasp at the intrusion and instinctively tried to arch his back but the Defiler's grip on his waist and the orc that had stripped him's grip on his hair prevented the movement. He felt a shudder go through him as Azog moved his finger. It felt wrong. He felt his muscles clinch in an attempt to keep the foreign object out. Even though it caused him pain, he couldn't seem to keep from doing it.
He let out a little cry as a second finger was added and the orc began to brutally stretch the opening. He now knew what "taken" meant and he was more terrified now that he had been when he had thought that they were going to beat him. This couldn't be about to happen. Even orcs were not so depraved as to rape him in front of and audience, were they? Well, he IS called the Defiler, a portion of his mind whispered.
Thorin flinched as Bilbo cried out. The little sound, so filled with pain and desperation pierced him to his core. He pulled in vain on his bonds needing to know that he had at least tried to come to Bilbo's aid. He could see the muscles in the hobbit's back and legs jumping as they tried to resist the intrusion and it was everything he could do not to tell Bilbo to just relax. He knew that it would save the hobbit pain if he would, but he could not bring himself to tell the hobbit to submit to the orc. Thorin felt his eyes go wide with fear as he heard his youngest nephew's voice.
"Please," Kíli begged. "Stop this. What do you desire? We will give it to you if we can. Just don't do this." Thorin closed his eyes and breathed through his teeth as he heard the sound of flesh smacking flesh and his nephew's pained cry. He hated knowing that he couldn't even protect his own kin. He felt absolutely worthless.
"Silence, dwarf scum," and orc ground out, the words punctuated by a thud and a cough followed by a moan that told Thorin the orc had kicked Kíli even though he could see him around his own orc guards.
"Let them talk," Azog purred. "It makes this all the more fun." He punctuated his words by moving his fingers particularly viciously and making Bilbo cry out again before he pulled his fingers free and lined himself up with the partially prepared hole. He had done just enough to ensure his entry without injuring himself but had left it closed enough that it his initial thrust would still cause the creature the dwarf King was so fond of pain.
Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief as the fingers were withdrawn. He had known that the orc would not really go through with it. It had all been a bluff. Kíli's plea had been what he wanted to hear and now they were done with this. If only he had been right. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind then he felt pressure at his entrance seconds before the Defiler grabbed his hip with his good hand and buried himself in the hobbit.
Despite what Bilbo had told himself about refusing to cry out, he could not help himself. Every time the orc thrust into him a cry rose up his throat. And between the cries, sobs could be heard. He wasn't sure what he was more ashamed of. The fact that he was being violated or the fact that he was weeping while it happened. He needn't have been ashamed of his tears. Few of the dwarves were dry-eyed at what was happening to the hobbit. Though they had looked away, unable to watch, the sounds of flesh smacking flesh and the Bilbo's cries were almost worse than seeing it had been.
The exception was Thorin. He was not crying or looking away but his eyes burned with hatred as he watched. Oh, he wanted to look away, but he felt that he owed it to Bilbo not to. If the hobbit could be forced to endure it, he could force himself to witness it. So witness it he did. He jaw clinched so tightly that he feared her would break his teeth but he did not care.
After what seemed like an eternity, the orc finished and pulled out of the hobbit. He wiped himself off on the hobbit's leg before releasing him and letting him fall to the ground where Bilbo curled up into a ball and continued to sob.
"Worthless creature," Azog grumbled as he aimed a kick at the hobbit's ribs causing him to cry out once more before turning to face the dwarves. At the hatred burning in Thorin's eyes, he smiled. He had felt the dwarf King's eyes on him the entire time and knew that he had watched the entire show. Which was good as it had been for his benefit.
"Since you made such a good audience, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, I will let you choose the fate of this creature," Azog said speaking to everyone though his words were addressed to Thorin. "You have three choices: I can kill him now—probably the most merciful option; I can give him to the boys for the night and kill him come dawn," here the surrounding orc began to jeer, and Thorin's eyes hardened even more, "or, I can keep him as a pet and he can keep me company at night for as long as he lasts. Choose."
"You bastard," snarled a voice that sounded suspiciously like Bofur's though the toymaker's voice had never held such anger before. "Those are not choices!" The other dwarves grumbled in agreement so Azog nodded to one of the orcs holding the toymaker and a thud and a moan followed.
"Choose," Azog repeated. Thorin closed his eyes and a pained expression crossed his face. Had he spared Bilbo's life only for him to be caused pain before he was killed? If that was the case it would have been more merciful for him to have let Azog kill him when he was captured. He knew which of the choices he should pick, but he couldn't bring himself to be the one who gave the word that ended the hobbit's life.
"Are those my only options?" Thorin asked in a broken voice. The company felt their hearts go out to their King. They did not envy him this choice and understood the pain he was experiencing. None of them wanted to be the one to condemn Bilbo to either pain or death or both.
"No," the orc replied slowly, a smile Thorin did not like one bit spreading across his face. "I will offer you one final option. You may take the creature, in front of everyone here, and then be the one to take his life." Thorin thought through his options. There was no good choice. If he took the first one . . . well the orc had not said how they would kill Bilbo and Thorin knew that they would choose the most vile way they could conceive to do it. Bilbo would suffer before he died. The second and third did not even bear consideration. He would not condemn Bilbo to more violation before his death. That left only the fourth. While it was almost more distasteful that the others, he knew that Bilbo's death at his hands would be swift and painless. It was the only choice he could make. As much as it pained him to do so. And if things went how he hoped they would he might not have to go through with it at all.
"Choose, or I will," Azog threatened darkly.
"I have made my choice," Thorin choked out feeling his face contort as he spoke. It was not difficult to keep the hope out of his eyes, even if they managed to escape Bilbo would not be the same.
"What will be his fate?" the orc replied looking at the King levelly. He fought back his smile, he could see the pain in the dwarf's eyes and knew what his choice would be before it was even spoken.
"I choose the fourth option," Thorin paused before he continued. "I will publically take him before he dies by my hand."The orcs cheered at his answer while the dwarves felt numb. Thorin could not really mean to take the hobbit and then kill him, could he? There had to be another plan. They didn't know it yet but Thorin had to have a plan. He couldn't really do it, could he? He had to be lying.
Thorin had not lied, however. He spoke the truth; it was just a matter of inflection. His words had been true, but the meaning had not been what everyone took it to mean. He would choose to have sex with Bilbo in public before he would choose to kill him, but as neither thing would ever happen it was a moot point. What mattered was that the Defiler through he had agreed.
"However," Thorin continued, "I will not mate with him with either of us bound." Rather than protest, Azog nodded to one of Thorin's guards who roughly cut the ties binding his arms behind his back. The move had been rough and Thorin could feel blood beginning to flow from a cut on his wrist but he did not care. A little blood loss never hurt much. He rose trying to keep his head held high as he walked to Bilbo's side and knelt beside the hobbit. He gently brushed the brown curls away from Bilbo's forehead before he turned to Azog.
"Let me untie him," Thorin demanded. Again the orc nodded and a knife was suddenly being pressed into the King's hand. He gently cut the ties binding the hobbit and set the knife on the ground beside them. Once he was free, Bilbo grabbed the collar of Thorin's coat and buried his face in the dwarf King's chest.
"I'm so sorry," Bilbo kept muttering. "Thorin, I'm so sorry." Thorin placed his arms around the hobbit's sobbing form and closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to spill at his apology. If anything, Thorin owed the hobbit an apology for getting him into this situation, not the other way around.
"Hush, Halfling," Thorin whispered in his ear. "Everything will be fine. I have a plan. We will have to make it appear we intend to go through with it, but I swear I will not hurt you. Do you trust me?" He felt the hobbit nod against him and felt his heart swell at the fact that the hobbit could still trust him after what had happened.
"Good," Thorin whispered before he raised his voice and continued the ruse. "Are you ready?" Bilbo pulled back and looked up at him with tear-filled hazel eyes that shone with trust before he nodded. Thorin nodded and removed his coat placing it on the grass before he laid the hobbit gently onto it. The dwarves gasped as Thorin lay gently atop the hobbit, his hair forming a curtain around them; he did mean to do it then.
"When I say to, slip on my coat and follow my lead," Thorin whispered under the pretense of nuzzling the hobbit's neck. "We will fight our way out of this yet. The knife they gave me is next to your hand. Try to free the others and kill anything you can. Show no remorse."
Bilbo whimpered at the command but nodded his head. "On three. One," Thorin raised himself up on his elbows. "Two," he was now on his knees. "Three," he mouthed before launching himself at the pile of weapons and closing his hand around the first handle he touched. It was Dwalin's war hammer. With a battle cry, he swung it at the first orc within range, hitting it in the torso and feeling bone crumple at the blow. Before it could hit the ground he had moved on to the next orc.
True to Thorin's command, the second the King had moved from atop him, Bilbo had trust his arms through Thorin's coat—feeling all the world like a child playing dress up as he was engulfed in the fabric—and had grabbed the knife, using the distraction the Dwarf King was providing to sneak quietly to Kíli's side as the youngest dwarf was also the nearest. He ignored the pain that passed through him in waves as he moved. There would be time to tend his hurts later . . . if they survived. And to survive, Thorin would need backup. He was a great warrior but he could not do this alone.
The second Kíli was free, he dove for the pile of weapons as well, coming up with Glóin's ax and not even pausing before swinging it at an orc that had been prepared to stab Thorin in the back and removing its head from its shoulders. While they were at it, Bilbo—still unnoticed by the orcs—crept to Dwalin and cut his bonds as well. He smashed the heads of his jailer's together with a sickening crunch before he too grabbed a weapon and began dealing bloody death to all the orcs within reach.
It continued in this manner for some time, until Azog grew suspicious as to how the dwarves were getting free and began to look for a way to stop this again before his entire force was decimated by them. He looked once more for the hobbit, knowing that the first time had not been a fluke and that he would make the perfect hostage once more. He found both of his answers at once as he saw the hobbit move toward the last knot of dwarves. Azog felt a smile cross his face as he closed the distance between them and bent to grab the creature by the hair once more.
What he didn't realize was that Bilbo had heard him coming and rolled at the last second before swiping at the hand reaching for him viciously with the knife he carried. He didn't even flinch when the black blood spurted across his face before the hand was withdrawn with a howl of pain and two fingers dropped to the ground. The orc's eyes flared with anger and he kicked the hobbit in the side causing him to fly a little ways before he hit the ground hard. He was so focused on getting revenge for his lost fingers that he did not notice as Thorin crept up behind him. He heard the war cry, but before he could turn to face his opponent, Thorin swung the great war-hammer and removed his head.
As the body slumped to the ground, Thorin gave it one final, disdainful look before he left it where it lay and moved around it to check on the hobbit, who had still not stirred. Tossing the knife Bilbo had dropped to Fíli, Thorin knelt beside him and slapped his cheek gently. The hobbit's eyes fluttered and opened to reveal confused hazel eyes.
"Thorin?" he mumbled. "What—"
"Hush Bilbo," Thorin replied. "Yes, it's me. But we need to move. This battle is probably about to intensify." The hobbit nodded and moved to stand, flinching as he did. Thorin closed his eyes and fought the urge to clinch his hands into fists since he had the hobbit by the arms and knew that hurt him. He wished that he would have had the time to kill the Defiler in a more appropriate way.
But Thorin had been mistaken. The battle did not intensify, but rather fell apart at the death of the white orc. Leaderless the orcs no longer felt the need to pit themselves against the angered and armed dwarves and began to flee into the woods.
"Don't let them escape!" Thorin called. The dwarves were more than happy to comply and pursued the orcs and cut every last one of them down. When Dwalin returned and looked at Thorin before giving him a grim nod.
"Pack up camp," Thorin said curtly. "We will not stay here." There was no complaint even though they had gotten little sleep the night before. No one desired to stay there a moment longer than they needed to—Bilbo less than anyone. As soon as they could, they returned all the weapons to their rightful owners and packed up the bedrolls while Bilbo redressed himself from his spare clothes without looking at any of the dwarves. He didn't want to talk about what had happened. And neither did they.
As the company moved out, even though they refused to talk about it, the dwarves did notice the fact that Bilbo limped rather pathetically and that occasionally a small sob or whimper would pass his lips. They wished that there was something they could do to help him, and none more-so that Thorin. He blamed himself for what had happened to the hobbit.
Even though he wanted to put as much distance between them and the clearing as he could, he knew that it would be cruel to force Bilbo to travel far that day. Mercifully, there was another alcove presented itself soon, and this one had a stream where they could bathe. He knew that Bilbo would appreciate that small mercy even if nothing would ever actually wash away what had happened.
Rather than travel that day, they stayed by the stream and nursed their wounds. Bofur had a nasty knot on the side of his head from where the orc had struck him and Kíli had a couple of bruised ribs and a black eye. Numerous other members had small cuts from the battle but Bilbo was the worst. Oin had gently treated the puncture wounds on his neck and the one on his hip, but the majority of his wounds were mental and there was nothing they could do for him.
Balin volunteered to keep watch while the others rested. No one felt like arguing, save for Kíli who offered to sit with him since he didn't think he could sleep after what he had witnessed. The rest of them bedded down despite the fact that the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon, and tried to ignore quiet sobs that were coming from Bilbo's bedroll. It was when the sobs faded and turned into snores that Thorin allowed himself to move nearer to the hobbit.
He sighed as he looked down at the sleeping face of the hobbit. He looked so peaceful that if he hadn't known what the hobbit had just been forced through he would never have realized it. His face was smooth and unlined. His breathing even and steady. Thorin sighed and gently ran his fingers through the soft damp curls. Bilbo moaned slightly and moved away from the touch. With a sad smile Thorin retracted his hand and leaned against the rock behind him fully intending to watch over Bilbo all day.
Thorin woke a few hours later to the sound of panicked cries. He grabbed his sword before his eyes were even open entirely. But there was no danger. The cries were coming from the hobbit that had been resting peacefully at his feet. Now, however, his sleep was not peaceful. He was tossing and moaning. A plaintive string of pleas coming from his lips. Thorin quickly scrabbled to his side and shook him. Bilbo did not instantly wake, but rather knocked away the hands on his shoulders.
Rather than give up, the dwarf King grabbed both of Bilbo's smaller hands in his own and grabbed his shoulder once more. Bilbo gave another cry and then shot straight up, his eyes wide with panic. Once he saw that it was Thorin who was holding him, his panic faded replaced instead by sorrow.
"I'm sorry," Bilbo cried. "I didn't mean to wake you. It was just that I had a nightmare." A shudder wracked his small form and Thorin drew him into a hug on instinct.
"It is fine, Bilbo," Thorin said his voice gentle. "It is only natural that you would after what happened today." He heard the hobbit sob again as Bilbo leaned into the embrace of the Dwarf King. "Do you wish to talk about it?"
"No," Bilbo replied shaking his head. "Not really." Thorin nodded. He had expected that would be the answer but had offered in case he was mistaken. He began to hum quietly, hoping to soothe the hobbit back into sleep before the memories could begin to haunt him.
"Why would anyone willingly do that?" Bilbo asked suddenly. He may never have engaged it in, but he knew that many others—including some members of the company—did. He couldn't see why they would. There had been absolutely no pleasure to be had in the act.
"It is not always like that," Thorin replied, his eyes sad. Had he have been Bilbo's first the hobbit would not now be asking him this question. He would have been gentle with him.
"Even so," Bilbo replied a shudder going through him as he recalled the feeling of the orc deep within him, "I can't see where it would be pleasant." Thorin hummed in response. He had never been on that end of sex. No one had ever taken him, but he knew that it could be pleasurable if the taker exercised care.
"I can be," Thorin replied. "Both parties can enjoy it if it is done correctly." Heaving a sigh he decided that while they were on the subject he might as well go all the way with it. "If you are ever curious about how it can be pleasurable, I would be more than willing to show you." He felt Bilbo stiffen in his arms and realized that he may have made a mistake. "Come to me when you are ready. And if you never are, that is fine as well." The hobbit nodded, but said nothing.
"You should sleep, if you are able," Thorin said after some time had passed. "No harm will come to you." Even once Bilbo's breathing even out once more, Thorin did not release him. He sat there throughout the day, dosing off and on, with the hobbit in his arms.
First off, I would like to thank those of you that made it this far. There is a second part to this that I will work on if this receives a favorable reception. As I said, I am rather ashamed that this came from my head and will blame it on the fever I am currently running. I'm probably going to hell for this one *sweat drops*
I have nothing else to say about this. So tell me what you think . . . even if you hated it.