The crossing of the ruins of Dale made everyone sad. It called up memories that the men around her had pushed away for years. The threat of the fire, the screaming of trapped women and children and the roaring of an enemy they could not defeat were generated by the lost city. Even for Alyssae, who hadn't gone through Smaug's terror and who hadn't even been aware of it at that moment.
The pain could be seen on every face. Everyone bore the scars for more than sixty years. Even Kili and Fili, who had only been children, were confronted with so much evil.
Alyssae glanced at Thorin's face, who suddenly seemed years older. She took his hand, squeezed it and when he looked up, a deep rooted hate was reflected in his eyes.
"Smaug will pay for what he has done."
Thorin nodded, but they both knew that wouldn't ease the pain. All these dwarves had suffered so much loss. Family members were snatched away from them and for decades they had been forced to live as tramps, depending on the kindness of others. They would never get back the time and the lost lives, no matter how sweet their revenge would be.
They left behind Dale and covered the last part of their journey. Despite the grudge and fear that had nestled in their hearts, the voices became more cheerful as they approached the Lonely Mountain. Plans changed and became better defined. The decision was made not to wait for the other dwarves: Smaug wouldn't doze in their throne rooms any longer.
Balin, Mithrandir and Thranduin discussed matters Alyssae did not understand, but they expressed so much confidence she would follow them blindly.
Thorin's mood changed every hour. Sometimes he was determined and militant, but at other moments fear crept into his mind. The fear that he would change when he saw the richness of the mountain. The only solution Alyssae saw, was talking about their sorrows. Thorin was no talker, but still they had conversations until deep in the night. Not only about their fears, but also about the things they enjoyed in life. Alyssae told about the flower fields in the valleys were she was raised, she told about her parents, her sister and friends. After some hesitation Thorin started to speak about his own parents and brother, who had all passed away. He told about his sister, whom he loved and missed. She turned out to be his beacon, the memory of her smile encouraged him to fulfill this quest.
Alyssae discovered that Thorin was a talented musician. He composed songs and melodies, which he performed on his golden harp. Sometimes he sang for her when they had sought some isolation. He sang about the arrival of Smaug, the loneliness of an abandoned fate and the heavy duty that was on his shoulders. Although Alyssae loved to hear his voice, since he was a good singer, his songs made her feel sad. It was unbelievable what this man had gone through. Not only he, but everyone who was connected to him.
"Are there no beautiful things you can sing about?" she had asked once. He had touched her face, looking deep in her eyes.
"I'm working on a song," he had whispered. "About my love for you."
Smiling, Alyssae had thrown her arms around him, but he wouldn't say any word about it. When they were in Erebor and had slain the dragon, he would take his harp and sing a song that she would never forget. According to his words.
Words Alyssae clenched to, because she also feared the treasure of Erebor. The treasures Thorin never spoke of, as if only thoughts about it could awake his gold fever. And above all, Alyssae feared Thranduil's predictive words, that even in their deepest intimacy wandered through her mind. It was a curse that hit her deeper than her sealed womb.
"You will choose to be with him, but he will destroy your life. And not only yours. You will wish he would have bled to death in my dungeon. "