Don't own the Hobbit. Never have, never will.

Alright, before some of you kill me, this wasn't my idea. It is a birthday prompt for Tweetzon86. On that note, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Hope you like it.

So, back to the prompt. It was this (or part of it was. The second part relates to the end and the epilogue which I'm not going to spoil); F and K get lost, they get tortured badly, they suffer from PTSD after, and Thorin has to help them recover.

I will try to update daily because it is a birthday prompt. I will, however, not promise anything. Enjoy. May not be the best one you've seen of this genre (I know I've seen better) but I'm trying.

Chapter 1: Hurt

Fili had no idea how they had ended up like this; alone, isolated, and half out of their minds with fear. Admittedly not a trait known to line of Durin, but then again, a run in with a group of orcs more vile and horrific than an entire army of Smaugs tended to make you rethink your values. And rethink them Fili had. He had done a lot of things, not all of them something to be proud of.

Beside him Kili stirred, coming out of yet another state of induced unconsciousness. A state that he had caused, albeit he had been forced to. Durin's beard! What kind of brother was he? Not that he could have done anything. Still it was no excuse.

Fili spared his brother a quick glance, taking in everything before turning his head back to watch their captors. The young dwarf looked like he had been swallowed up by the most hellish place in all of Middle-Earth and then spit back out again, though that in itself may have been an understatement. He was pretty sure that his brother's wrist had snapped most likely completely in two in the first initial grab for the offending joint was heavily swollen and an angry, painful red. Whether or not it had been an accident or to stop him from shooting, Fili did not know, but he did know that was not all the injury suffered by the brunette. Multiple lacerations littered his arms and were just visible through his torn and bloody shirt and breeches. A massive mottled bruise ran up the left side of his face, stopping just short of his eye, though it supported a bruise of its own. His forehead was beginning to sweat slightly; whether from infection or just the extent of the injuries Fili was unsure. He was unsure of a lot of things, like when the company was going to rescue them or how any being could force two brothers to do this to each other and find joy in it. Looking upon his brother again, Fili swore that if he had a knife or another object that would suffice he would run it straight through himself for each blemish upon his younger brother that he saw had come to be there by his own hands, save that of the broken wrist and the blackened eye.

It wasn't that Fili had been the only one to have been forced to take up arms against his brother, for Kili had been too. They had been given a choice; perform the act of torture on one another or, to whoever refused, watch their brother die a slow, painful death at the hands of the orcs before they too followed suit. At least like this they could try and minimise the damage done, but if they were caught withholding back too much then the consequences would be horrific. It was unfortunate for Kili that Fili had five years more experience and hardened muscles. And thus the state of unconsciousness. Sometimes the pain was too much.

Going back to watching the orcs, Fili trained his eyes on their sleeping leader. It was not Azog for Azog was long dead, but the monster seemed to share the Defiler's cruel and sadistic taste for the misery of others. More than once, the blonde had seen him throw a disobedient orc to the wargs. Or the again, it may have been because they carried no food for their steeds. Either way, it was still horrible.

The silvery light of the moon glinted in through the mouth of the cave that stank just as bad, or possibly worse, than the orcs themselves. Save a few guards stationed at the mouth of the cave and, from the sounds of it, the pack of wargs outside, everyone else was sleeping. Fili took the moment to smooth a stray strand of hair back from his brother's face before crossing his arms again, thankful that they had ceased to be bound. The logic was simple from the orcs' perspective; where could they run to if they could still run at all? Nowhere admittedly unless they wanted to lead them straight to the company which they didn't even know the whereabouts anymore. He worried silently about this, knowing his uncle would never abandon them to this fate let alone any other. After all, he had been the one to send them scouting in the first place. Yet, if for once the great dwarf did not come on time like he almost always had when they were in trouble, if this was one of the rare times that he failed then all would be lost and they would be killed, either at the hands of the orcs or at the hands of each other. Fili didn't think that he could stand to have the blood of his brother stain his soul, or at least any more than had already stained it in any case. He had to make sure his brother survived.

They needed to be rescued tomorrow, if not tonight, Fili knew as much. They had both lost a lot of blood among other things and the blonde was pretty sure both of them would soon be running a fever. He blinked a bit, suddenly feeling lightheaded as the bout of wooziness he had been fighting for the past few hours returned. Kili stirred again beside him, and looking down, Fili saw his brown eyes were now open, alert with only a taint of what they had been through lurking in them. He resisted the urge to smile. Even in all this, his brother was still trying to hide how he felt. If he wasn't the archer's older brother, he might have been fooled. But then again, the youth was not succeeding very well and it didn't take Gandalf to see the difference in the brunette's eyes.

"We'll find them," he could hear Dwalin saying in the distance. It was hard to understand people when you were seeing red. And right now, Thorin was seeing the deep, dark, pulsing purple of utter rage.

"If they've even so much as-" he could hear himself saying, his anger and worry coming out in a mashed up ball of mess.

"Well, let's hope it hasn't come to that," Dwalin interrupted, trying to be the optimistic. Thorin highly doubted that his friend's optimism would play out.

"These are orcs we are talking about," he stated, grinding out each word with a passionate hate. Dwalin did not need to turn to see the expression on Thorin's face.

"Giving us all the more reason to hurry. Nori said he found the path to their camp."

"Then why aren't we already storming the place?" Thorin growled. He ignored Dwalin as the warrior sighed.

"Because you're standing here and arguing with me," his friend put bluntly. That sobered Thorin. He could not afford to waste time, not with his nephews in the hands of the only creatures he hated more than elves. The only creatures that he knew were capable of taking a man right to the brink and pushing him off wholeheartedly without a second thought.

"Then let us get moving," he stated, starting forward again, strides long and meaningful. Dwalin followed, knowing better than to ask his leader to think through a plan first. The rest of the company struggled to keep up, already exhausted from days of searching for their two missing, now known to be captured, brethren.

The pair had been sent scouting ahead and when they had not returned for a while, everyone save the burglar and Ori had given it no second thought other than a mild annoyance. The two brothers were young and prone to pranks and distractions, the youngest especially. It was only when a time later Fili and Kili still had not shown up that the rest of them began to grow concerned. And then they had found their weapons, scattered amongst the dead bodies of orcs in what was obviously an abandoned campsite. Suddenly what had happened had started to sink in all too quickly.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is the plan when we find them?" Dwalin knew better than to say 'if' in front of him and for that, Thorin was grateful.

"We go in and get them out of there as fast as possible. No stopping. No distractions. No trying to play hero." The company leader spoke in a voice just as low as his companion's.

What he wouldn't give to destroy each and every one of the vile creatures who had so much as laid a single finger on his two nephews, but, given the circumstances and the most likely condition they would find the pair in, if they found them at all, there was no way that Thorin would allow his two kinsmen to be put at such risk. Revenge could wait, Fili and Kili couldn't.

If anything had happened to them… All he could say was that the next time he met up with a group of orcs, they could kiss their sorry hides goodbye.

Alright Tweetzone86, how did I do? That goes for the rest of you too. Please review. (What do you know, they all rhyme - or just about).