As the days passed, the dwarves became more and more despairing. Thorin stood still on his legs, but the speed they needed to keep, took its toll.
Alyssae feared for his life. It kept her out of sleep at night, because her sorrows were so enormous. Every morning Thranduin practiced some spells to alleviate the pain, but what he really needed was rest.
At day she didn't take her eyes off him. His comrades helped him, even though she wanted to hold him badly. She however found it hard to come near. The first time she'd kissed him, had been an impulse. She'd been so glad he was alive she hadn't even thought about it. Now however there were plenty of aggravating thoughts. His men were worried about him and put more faith in Thranduin than in her, since some still believed it was her fault Thorin had ended up in the dungeons in the first place.
Furthermore she couldn't forget Gloin's words. The fear that his king would change into a sugary, love-sick man right before his eyes seemed to be his worst fear, although Alyssae knew that would never happen.
Thorin remained a stubborn and not always so heart-warming dwarf and he wouldn't change because of this. She didn't expected anything like that from him, for she loved him for who he was - even though it was gorgeous when he exchanged his grim face for a smile now and then.
Finally her own amorous feelings were tempered by the last conversation she had had with the elf king. Her womb was cursed. She would never bear children if she wouldn't succeed in giving him those stupid stones and there were plenty of things that were in her way, to start with a group of weakened companions and a bloodthirsty dragon.
She suddenly bumped into Thranduin, who stood still. His gaze was aimed at the distance and his face petrified.
"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously.
"They are waiting for us."
Alyssae got cold. "Who?" she asked, hoping - against odds - that it was a delegation of elf soldiers. Maybe Tauriel was with them, ready to come with them anyway. Maybe she had persuaded some elves to join her and ...
"Orcs. We're approaching the border of Mirkwood and I can feel their malice, smell their unwashed bodies and I even think I can see them."
Alyssae looked worried at Thorin, who moved ahead with a grim face.
"Maybe I should take a look."
"No," Thorin answered bluntly. "You stay here."
Alyssae exchanged a look with Thranduin, but then ignored his order and climbed into one of the trees without starting a discussion. She didn't want to exhaust him by a tiring twist. She understood his that for something would happen to her, especially when he was not able to protect her, but she believed her safety wasn't more important than that of others.
She felt much healthier than the last time she'd climbed into a tree and taking a look at the edge of a wood was no immense task.
A few moments later she looked down while she sat on a thick branch. A quiver shot down her spine when she saw Azog sitting on his white warg, scanning the road before him. She knew he couldn't see or hear the dwarves, but that would only be a matter of time.
She just wanted to turn around silently when one of the orcs started to scream. Curiously she glanced over her shoulder, but before she could discover the source of the agitation she felt an unexpected pain in her calf. In a reflex she waved her arm around her lower leg, by which she hit a thick, black arrow. Blood bubbled up from the hole and she cursed softly, while flames of pain tried to push her off her seat.
With clenched jaws she broke the arrow in two, but she didn't dare to take it out, afraid she would hurt herself even more. Thranduin would fix it. She tried to climb down, but her injured leg couldn't cope the weight. She lost her balance and fell down.