With concentration Alyssae stared at the knife in her hands, as if the weapon would tell her literally to help Thorin or not. The enormous orc was almost three times as big as the stubborn dwarf.
'Why does he even listen to that stupid orc?' Alyssae grouched.
Dwarves were not famed for their wisdom, but she would have expected Thorin, as a leader, to act differently.
'It's a conflict with a deep history,' Bilbo knew. 'Every time they look into each other's eyes, their burning hate is fed . Once it's been enough.'
Alyssae looked at the monstrous face of the orc. His eyes flamed indeed. His lips were constantly moving and although his words got lost in the cheers of his companions, she knew he spit out insults which drove Thorin mad.
Thorin might be a stubborn little man, but it was beyond dispute that he possessed a courage many man would be jealous of. With his oaken shield in his one hand and his sword in the other, he faced upon a flock of wargs with angry drivers on their backs, while his fellows were hidden in the trees like scared squirrels.
A courageous dwarf he surely was – but foolish. Maybe dwarf songs would be written about him, but Thorin didn't seem to be the type of guy setting out to become famous. He seemed way too down to earth. Although in the end it was all that was left of a living being: the memory.
Alyssae took her eyes off Thorin and noticed Bilbo was already half way the tree. He had a firm look in his eyes and she knew raising protests would be a waste of time.
Her legs clamped around the branch on which she was sitting and she swung backwards. With both hands she grasped the next branch and in this way she reached the ground before Bilbo did.
'We can't leave him to die,' he explained.
Alyssae agreed. After all she was free because of Thorin and his fellows. She owed them much, but she didn't know how she – or Bilbo – could help him.
Bilbo had a glowing blue sword and she had a nameless dagger, while they had to face slavering wargs, equipped with teeth which were so sharp they would cut effortless through skin and bone.
Her thoughts disappeared when she heard steel clashing to steel. The pale orc rose above Thorin and grinned awfully, while Thorin defended himself bravely and tried to control his emotions.
Alyssae was educated in the basics of magic, but already on a young age she found out she was not very talented. She was probably able to cure simple wounds but she had never been in a war and she had no idea how she could help him without suited weapons.
'When you,' she started talking to the hobbit. She fell silent when she found out Bilbo was no longer with her. Afraid she looked around, but the hobbit seemed to have disappeared.
Nevertheless, his voice hadn't left her. 'Don't care about me. I will sneak behind Azog if you help Thorin.'
Alyssae was so stunned by Bilbo's disappearance she could only nod, although she felt just as unthinking as the dwarf she had sworn at a few moments ago. With shivering hands she held the knife, while an orc led his animal to her.
Her knowledge about their language wasn't sufficient enough to understand his mocking, so he wasn't able to confuse her. Her eyes were fixed on the neck of the warg, looking for a weak spot.
Quickly and skillfully Alyssae stroke when the warg bend his knees to jump. Her dagger pierced deep into his neck. A fountain of blood arose from the wound and sprinkled her like an unwanted shower from which she couldn't escape.
The animal fell in the grass and its rider lost his balance and rolled over the blood stained earth.
Alyssae lost her weapon, but she saw her chance now her enemy slipped around disorientated. She threw herself on the orc, who luckily wasn't as big as his captain.
With blooded hands she squeezed his throat, while she tried to keep him down. Envious she looked into the ink black eyes of her enemy, which rolled in fear.
Suffocation was an awful death. A low act of a coward, who overwhelmed a confident in his sleep.
It was something Alyssae, who was fighting for her life, did not care about.
Slowly the life-breath of the orc slipped between her convulsive fingers. His mouth hung open and his thick, dark tongue dropped down like a slimy slug. The wild struggling came to an end, as if her enemy accepted his fate.
Alyssae let go of the creature and picked up the sword the orc had lost during his fall. She glanced at Thorin, but found out she was still too far away from him. His resistance seemed to become weaker and he dragged with his left leg. From countless wounds blood streamed over his body, but he kept raising his shield.
Alyssae noticed more dwarves were standing on the ground. They all tried to help their leader, but innumerable horrible monsters were standing in between.
Maybe it had to be this way. Maybe Thorin had to fight his own war. Maybe she shouldn't interfere, something she could have lived with as she hadn't promised Bilbo the opposite.