Chapter 1

Thorin Oakenshield internally roared, as the dagger was dragged slowly from his shoulder.

It had been three days since the battle with Azog outside the goblin city. Three days since Thorin had been taken from the company by the pale orc. Three days of mind numbing torture and pain which had been afflicted on him by the Pale Orc himself.

At the battle Azog had decided to prolong the inevitable death of the dwarf who had taken his arm. Merely beheading Thorin would be too quick, too painless. Azog wanted him to suffer, and suffer he did.

Still aching from the Warg bite at the battle, as well as numerous other cuts, burns, and deeper wounds inflicted by the Orc, Thorin was beginning to lose hope for survival.

But he would not yield.

He would not give this filthy beast the satisfaction of seeing him screaming and begging for mercy or death. He would not give Azog what he wanted.

Thorin bit back another roar as the dagger was once again thrust into his body, this time in his upper thigh. Looking up, he stared into the eyes of his foe, daring him to do his worst.

Azog grinned at the sight of rebellion still in the Dwarf kings eyes. He gave the Orc blade a sharp twist, causing the Dwarf to jerk away in pain, but still he did not cry out. Instead Thorin glared up at the Orc, wishing his arms were not bound, wishing that he had his sword, Orcrist, so he could cleave this foul beast in two, as he should have done at the battle for Moira.

Azog ripped the knife out of Thorin's leg and dragged the tip slowly down the side of Thorin's face, leaving a shallow cut and trail of blood as he spoke.

"Look how the son of Durin shakes, like a babe torn from its mother." Sneer Azog "How much more can he endure. How much more till the dwarf breaks?"

He laughs, cruel and loud as he lashes out, slashing the dagger across Thorin's thin undershirt and chest. The cut left behind is almost lost among the various other bleeding and partially scabbed wounds marring Thorin's chest. Thorin is fueling all of his rage now into staying awake. The amount of blood seeping from his wounds and soaking into his shirt is making him lightheaded and Thorin knows it won't be long till he loses the battle for consciousness.

Azog raises his claw, the rusted piece of metal he used to replace the hand Thorin had taken. It glints dully in the setting of the evening sun. Before Thorin even realizes what is happening, the claw is descending, sinking into the flesh and muscle that lies between Thorin's neck and shoulder.

Thorin bites his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, but he does not scream. He does not give in. But this finally proves the last straw and Thorin is wrenched from consciousness as Azog pulls his claw from the muscle.

Finally everything is blissfully dark.

Bilbo had to bite his knuckles to stop the sob that had been rising from his chest. He silenced himself as Azog ripped his claw from Thorin and the Dwarf king collapsed.

Bilbo was situated at the edge of the Orc camp, hidden deep in the shadow of the overhanging rocks that were currently providing the orcs shelter. He had been tracking them for days, sometimes just stumbling along, lost until he found a large paw print or a small animal torn in two, that showed the orcs had been there.

During the last fight with Azog he had tried to protect Thorin. He had flung himself before the king and killed an Orc to save him. It had not been enough though. Bilbo had heard the Orc screaming for his soldiers to 'Bring the Dwarf's head!" and he had been prepared to sacrifice himself in order to protect Thorin. At the time, he had not had long enough to process why he had felt so strongly, but the only thing he knew was that he had to protect.

So there he was, protecting Thorin, with little more than his letter opener and his courage, with the Orcs advancing menacingly. Suddenly Azog raised his metal claw and ordered his soldiers to halt.

"No. Bring him instead." growled Azog, staring at his metal arm, " I wish to harm him for the pain he has caused me." He finished with a terrifying grin.

The other orcs turned back towards Bilbo with leering smiles as they suddenly charged the Hobbit. Bilbo was ill prepared for such a ferocious attack and he slashed at the orcs but was soon thrown aside by their strength and sheer numbers. One of the orcs slung Thorin over his shoulder before leaping back on his warg. Howling the warg, orc, and dwarf made it back to Azog, and Azog smiled at the beaten hobbit, lying on the ground.

"He's mine now, little one"

Suddenly Bilbo was surrounded once again by Dwarves, those who had finally made it out of the burning tree. The battle commenced once again, Dwarvish axes hacking away at orc body parts. In the heat of the battle no one seemed to notice that the Warg carrying Thorin and the one bearing Azog, both had turned away from the battle and were racing back to the forest, having already taken their prize.

One person did notice their retreat though, and that same person, or rather hobbit, now stood at the edge of their camp after three days of running, walking, and tracking nonstop.

'It was a good thing the Orcs had not ridden very far or I would have never found them' Thought Bilbo frantically as he watched Azog order two Orcs to drag Thorin off to the side of the camp and keep guard.

All Bilbo needed now was a plan. He had to get Thorin away from the orc tonight, otherwise he would not last another day. Bilbo had witnessed some of his torture, unable to do anything, helpless he was forced to watch as Thorin was beaten and stabbed over and over again. He could not bear to let it happen again, not when it was within his power to rescue Thorin.

Bilbo touched his pocket to check the ring. It would be his only chance at succeeding. But first he needed to see if Thorin would even be able to escape.

Bilbo followed the orcs dragging Thorin away. He winced as the dwarf king was thrown roughly against a large rock, where he lay; tied up and bleeding, as the Orc guards stood a couple of feet away.

Soundlessly Bilbo slipped the ring onto his finger and he cautiously crept to where Thorin lay. Kneeling down quietly, Bilbo inspected the few wounds that he was able to make out in the dim light with light fingers, fluttering over the large wounds in his shoulder and leg, before ghosting over the marks on his chest. 'He is losing a lot of blood' thought Bilbo worriedly, "I have to get him out of here'.

Looking down at Thorin's unconscious face, drawn in pain, Bilbo couldn't help himself. He gently stroked a light hand across the Dwarf king's brow, and down the uninjured side of his face, in hopes of smoothing away the pained expression. His touch was just heavy enough that Thorin began to stir and in a moment of panic Bilbo covered Thorin's mouth with both of his hands.

Thorin jerked awake at the feeling of something covering his face, something he was unable to see. He jerked his head, trying to escape whatever had him, before freezing at a hurried whisper.

'Thorin! It's me, it's Bilbo! Please be silent."

Thorin stilled in surprise. There was no doubt that it was the hobbit's voice, but Bilbo was nowhere to be seen. The hands on his mouth were removed and he felt something getting close to his body, right up next to his ear.

"I do not have time to explain everything to you, Thorin." Bilbo hurriedly whispered into his ear. "You can't see me because I have an object that allows me to go unseen. I'm here to help you escape. Do you think you could walk?"

Thorin closed his eyes in order to catalogue his injuries. Shifting he had to stifle a groan at the movement of the wound in his thigh. It burned like dragon fire, but if this was his chance to escape this torture, Thorin was not willing to let any injury stop him.

Thorin turned towards where he thought the hobbit's ear was. "I need you to untie my hands and tighten my belt around my leg" he whispered as quietly as he could. "Then I'll be able to walk."

He felt the air around him shift as Bilbo nodded and then cautiously and quietly began to remove Thorin's belt. A muffled thud as the buckle clacked against the dirt, cause Thorin's guards to turn to see if the prisoner was awake.

Both Thorin and Bilbo froze. Apparently seeing nothing of interest the guards turned back to the heated discussion they were having in the black speech.

Bilbo released a breath he had not known he was holding and quickly finished binding Thorin's leg. Then with deft hobbit fingers he untied Thorin's bindings.

"I'll distract the guards" Bilbo whispered once more in Thorin's ear, "As soon as they are gone, make for the edge of camp."

"What about you, burglar? I will not leave you here."

"I'll be right behind you. Just move as quickly as you are able." Bilbo responded worry and nervousness evident in his tone.

Thorin nodded. "Be careful Halfling."

Bilbo shot Thorin a grime smile, which the other could not see before quietly standing and moving towards the guards.

Silently he drew his sword, an idea forming in his head. The orc to his right was wearing a metal helmet and was gesturing furiously, at the other orc. Nervously Bilbo crept up so he was right in front of the two arguing orcs, glad once again for the gift of invisibility. He pulled a small rock out of his pocket, which he had picked up at some point along the road and threw it directly behind the Orc with the helmet. The rock caused a rustle in the grass that caused the helmeted orc to turn abruptly away from the argument to see what had moved. As soon as his back was turned Bilbo raised his sword as high as he could and clanged it against the orc's helmet. The hit of metal on metal caused a loud ringing which must have been unbearable in the helmet. The helmeted orc whipped around, pulling his helmet off to escape the terrible noise. He saw the other guard and came to the conclusion that Bilbo was hoping for, he thought the other orc had struck him.

Soon both Orcs were caught up in a tangle of limbs as they both tried to rip each other's throat out in a fit of rage.

Sheathing his blade Bilbo ran over to where Thorin had just struggled to his feet. Still invisible the Hobbit pressed himself up against the injured dwarf side and under his arm to offer support and to help him walk. Thorin grunted quietly at the sudden press of warmth. The fact that he accepted the Halfling's assistance told Bilbo just how injured Thorin really was.

Bilbo only prayed that they would make it out of the camp in time.

AN- So this is just another idea I had for a Thilbo Hurt/Comfort fic. I hope you liked it and if you guys did then I will continue. It will probably be only 3 or 4 chapters long and I already have the next one written. So let me know what you think!