DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of The Hobbit do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Inara, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. It DOES mean they might develop in slightly different ways.

THIS STORY IS NON-SLASH.

DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.

Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!

PART ONE

Thorin Oakenshield paused for a moment, holding his pony on a tight rein and listening intently. Sounds of a swordfight came to him on the slight breeze and then he stiffened when Orc voices came into play. He would kill Orcs wherever and whenever he came upon them. And whoever had been set upon in this woodland would need help; there were MANY Orcs from the sounds of it.

He dismounted and crept slowly closer. It wouldn't do, he thought, to announce his presence until he was certain they weren't just fighting amongst themselves. But no, that was – was that a human WOMAN surrounded and being slowly cut to ribbons?

He stepped out then, his own sword in hand. He had long hated Orcs, with more cause than most, and he would fight them wherever he found them. "Come," he said simply. "Try your tricks on me."

To say the Orcs were surprised was an understatement. To a one, they stopped and simply stared for a moment. The woman, startled, still reacted quickly and brought her sword down on one's head as the others charged toward the dwarf.

The battle was then truly joined, both human and dwarf darting in to strike hard and dancing away, leaving many more of the Orcs on the ground than stood against them. Abruptly, the Orcs decided they'd had enough and fled.

Thorin would have pursued, consumed as he was by bloodlust, but he saw the woman go to her knees, holding herself up with one hand as she heaved for breath. Growling, he sheathed his sword and went to kneel beside her. "You fool!" he railed. "Have you no sense? Alone, in the forest, with an Orc pack on your trail?" But he had whistled for his pony and was already rummaging in the packs for something he could use as a bandage.

"As for foolish, Master Dwarf, why set upon them alone yourself? I see no others who could have come to your aid." She drew a deep breath and then a hiss of pain as he applied a wet cloth to the long, deep slash on her cheek. "You could very well have left me to my fate."

"I would leave no one to the Orcs." Simple words, but they radiated hatred and she was hard pressed not to flinch away from it. "This is deep. It will leave a scar." He watched her carefully. The human women he had met would be railing against fate, considering themselves ruined and worth nothing with such a disfiguration.

"Then it leaves a scar." She sat back for a moment, considering. "They went north. I should follow. They can't be allowed to rally others and return." Slowly she stood. Having regained her breath, she took a step forward and then turned to regard him steadily. "I will not ask for your aid," she said slowly. "Though I thank you for your timely assistance."

"If you are hunting Orcs, you will need help," he replied evenly as he began to repack his pony. He swung aboard. "I would offer to carry you as well, but you are too tall for my mount." There was a hint of humor in his voice, though it was heavily veiled. "Lead on, lady. We will track these creatures as far as we can."

"No lady, Master Dwarf," she cast back over her shoulder as she took the lead, carefully checking the tracks. The Orcs had been in disarray, fleeing before them, but she wouldn't put it past them to have turned back for an ambush. "My name is Inara. I am a wanderer, a hunter of Orcs." She left it at that. She wasn't used to having company and her manners were admittedly lacking. She knew her garb was strange, for a human woman. She appeared more like a Ranger than anything else, though they had no females in their ranks.

Thorin almost took exception at her continued use of "Master Dwarf" until common sense prevailed. She couldn't very well call him by name if he hadn't given it to her. And she was a riddle; a wanderer, a hunter of Orcs, she had called herself. Human women just didn't do these things, to his knowledge. "And as you are Inara, I am Thorin, not Master Dwarf," he said dryly. He watched her track, giving her a grudging admiration for her ease of movement. She moved only as much as necessary, keeping nearly silent. For a human, she was remarkably capable, it seemed.

"They haven't stopped running," she said as she knelt beside the path. Thorin could see no track, but apparently she could. "We couldn't have frightened them that badly. There is something more at work here." She stood and looked thoughtful. "We should camp here. They'll be waiting for us further up. It's the perfect place for an ambush." She raised a brow at him. "That is, if you choose to stay in my company. I've interrupted your journey as it is."

"I had no clear destination in mind when I left the mountain," he replied as he again swung down. "We should make no fire. They'll be less apt to spot us that way." He took out some of the travel rations he carried and sat down near his pony. "Tell me why you hunt Orcs, Inara." He was more than curious. Even Dwarf women didn't hunt, much less Orcs. He had more than enough cause for hate; Orcs had nearly wiped out his entire line. But to find another who seemed just as driven...

"Perhaps for the same reasons as you," she said as she settled gingerly to the ground opposite him. "The one who leads this band. He is my quarry, and yet he hides behind others who do his bidding. He is pure evil, even more so than other Orcs. He leads them with an iron fist, to pillage and plunder villages and kill all the humans he can find." The hatred in her voice was thick, as was something else he judged to be sorrow.

He felt an unaccustomed discomfort at having upset her. "Forgive me," he said simply. "I meant not to wake hard memories." And yet his were as dark as hers. His grandfather, his father – both lost to the pale Orc known as Azog. His kin, most of them, also lost to the Orcs. He fell silent, lost in thought.

"Why don't you rest, Thorin?" Inara's voice was soft. "I will take the first watch." She knew the name, of course. He was the King under the Mountain, of the Dwarf Kingdom of Erebor. He had spent most of his life in exile from his home, and for that, she felt him a kindred spirit. She could never go home either. Not until she had settled with Gharzgul. And even then, she had no home to go to. The Orc had seen to that. Yes, she felt a kinship with the Dwarf.

Thorin simply regarded her with that steady, piercing gaze until she looked away. Yes, there was sorrow in her eyes, and it pulled at him. Then he shrugged inwardly and composed himself to sleep. "You will wake me for the next watch." It wasn't a question, and he gave no thought to how arrogant he sounded.

She turned back to him to answer but he already seemed asleep. How he could be, she didn't know, but she thought it was genuine. And so she relaxed back, still wary, and kept the watch.