The next morning, the first thing I heard when I woke was the faint, muffled sound of hundreds of voices. My eyes snapped open and I sat bolt upright, one hand pressed to my middle. As much pain as I was in right then, I would have gladly experienced it for a month on end since it came with the knowledge that one day, I could have a family. I doubled over with a groan as another burst of pain hit my stomach. Then again, a week was fine.

With one arm round my middle, I slung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, swaying slightly. Once I caught my balance, I made my over to the doors leading to the balcony, shivering. The cold stone sent tremors up my spine, and I curled my toes against the stone, wrapping my free arm around my chest.

I glanced at the fireplace. Someone had left my cloak before the fire. Shivering, I picked it up and wrapped it round my shoulders, sighing as the heat seeped through my tunic and into my skin. I then crossed to the balcony doors and gripped the door handles, nervous about what I was about to see. I released a breath and then pulled them apart to reveal the rising sun by whose light I could see the men and women of Laketown scurrying around and packing up their things to make it to Dale before dark. Sunlight flooded my room.

I sighed. Thorin would hear of this soon, I was sure of it; and when he did, he would find some way of barricading us inside the mountain or driving the men from the city. I knew that an army of dwarves was coming, and that when riled they moved incredibly quickly; they would either drive the men out or slaughter them. The Company, Eru help them, had sworn fealty to the king, loyalty that wound not be so easily broken, not even for my sake. Kili and Fili were the two that I knew loved me the most, but also the two I knew could not support me if I tried to defend the people of Laketown—Dale, now, I suppose.

I was alone.

I sighed and gripped the railing tightly, only ceasing when my fingers lost their feeling. There was only one thing I could do, though it chilled my heart to consider it. I turned and swept back into the room, only stopping when I reached the desk that sat in the corner. I opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of thick, yellowed parchment along with a quill and a dusty bottle of ink. A moment later I was seated with the quill poised over the paper, and I froze. What I was about to do would be considered treason against both Mirkwood and Erebor. I shook my head and closed my eyes. There was no other way.

Taking a deep breath, I began to write out a letter in Quenya, one of the eldest kinds of Elvish. The runes started out shaky, but soon became bold and dark as my thoughts gathered together and formulated a thought; a crazy thought, but a thought all the same. A thought that just might save the lives of those whom I loved most.

I dropped the quill, spotting the parchment. I was finished. I stared at the letter and took a deep breath as I smoothed it out and blew on the ink to dry it more quickly. Doubts swirled in my mind. What if he didn't receive the letter in time? What if he outright refused to come? I shook my head. No. I couldn't think that way; I had to hope that all went according to plan.

I rose and went to the vanity. My reflection stared at me from the other side of the tarnished mirror that hung over it. A young she-elf stared back at me. No longer did I appear to be an underage girl; I finally looked my age. My face had thinned and matured, and my cheekbones and chin were much more defined. I looked to have aged a decade since last I had seen my reflection. My hair hung halfway down my back, much of it tangled. My eyes were what startled me the most. They were rimmed with red, and they carried a great weight. I recognized the look in them: lord Elrond often bore it, but he was over three thousand years my elder. I tried to think of a suitable description… They looked haunted. Tired.

I was tired. Even after finding the one I loved, I was tired.

I sighed and turned away from the mirror. I could do nothing about my eyes, but I could at least do something about my hair. The water-filled bowl on the vanity would serve well as a tub, I supposed, at least for my head. I took a breath and submerged my head completely, digging my fingers into my hair and making sure every bit was cleaned. I lifted my head and gasped, then lowered it again, this time rubbing soap into my dark tresses and brushing through it with my fingers. I was careful to avoid my courtship braid, and when I finished, the braid was untouched, albeit soaked. Water dripped from my hair to the floor, making slick the stones and drenching my clothing. Shivering, I quickly dressed and changed cloths, placing the soiled one into the soapy dish of water to clean. I rang the water from my hair as much as possible, letting the excess fill the bowl.

I glanced back at the letter and my heart began to beat faster, drumming warningly against my chest. You can't go back, it seemed to say. Once you do this, you can't take it back. I swallowed, my throat suddenly very dry. I crossed over to the desk and with shaking hands picked up the letter and the piece of leather with which I normally would bind my hair. I moved to stand outside on the balcony, twisting my brother's ring upon my finger. A thrush had perched upon the railing and watched me with large, intelligent eyes.

I bowed my head to it. In the time of Thror, I had heard stories of thrushes and ravens who served the King Under the Mountain and could speak; perhaps this was one of them. "My name is Aeyera, Exile of the Greenwood. The Company of Thorin Oakenshield is in danger. Will you help me?" The thrush hopped closer, and I recognized it. I had seen it the night of Smaug's attack; it had been flying quickly towards Bard when his son had rushed to his aid. I had thought nothing of it at the time, but now I wondered at its actions. "I know you," I told it softly.

It tilted its head, then opened its beak and spoke. I was too desperate to be surprised. "You do not know me, but I know you. You are the maiden who did and continue to risk all that you are for the dwarves of Erebor, and for that I will honor your request. What do you ask of me?"

I held out the letter, now folded and sealed, and stared at it for a moment. No going back. I told him who to deliver it to. "Please," I whispered. "Make haste. It is an urgent matter, and he must receive it by sunrise tomorrow. If he does not receive it, all will be lost."

"It is a long flight," the thrush told me. "He may not receive it in time."

"Please," I whispered, desperate. "It's our only chance."

It bobbed its small head. "I know. I, however, cannot deliver your letter." My stomach dropped. "If I did, he would receive it in three days."

Three days?! We had two at the most. "I don't have three days—"

"I know, young one. So you have said. Let me speak." I clamped my mouth shut. "The golden eagle flies more swiftly than I, such that your letter will be delivered in a day. He owes your recipient a favor, I believe. He will come if you call."

I stared at him, barely daring to believe my fortune. "How do you know of this?"

"We all know of it," it told me anxiously, hopping in agitation. "After the dragon terrorized this land, he searched for you. During his searches, he found the eagle's ancestor, wounded from the dragon. He healed it, and now that eagle's offspring are in his debt. He is ready to repay you; do you accept?"

I nodded. "I do."

A moment later the great golden bird swooped down and landed on the railing, watching me with its large yellow eyes. It was one of the largest eagles I had seen, with the exception of the Great Eagles that lives near the Carrock. I curtsied. "Thank you," I told it, not sure if it could understand me. "Once you do this, your debt to my brother shall be repaid."

The thrush relayed my instructions to the eagle, which bobbed its head. I tied the letter to its leg with the leather thong and after a moment's hesitation, tied Legolas' ring to it as well. This way the recipient would know it was I who called upon him. The eagle stood still while I did this, then bowed its head.

"Go, my friend," I said softly. "Go as swiftly as possible."

In a flash of gold, the eagle was gone, and the thrush and I were alone. My stomach twisted. Oh, Eru, please let me have made the right choice. "You should go," the thrush told me. I stared into my room, wondering if I should tell Kili. "If what I have heard is correct, you will be instrumental in turning the tide in the coming conflict."

I turned my head sharply. "What conflict? Between the men and the dwarves?" It took off, wings beating the air. "Wait! Come back, please!"

It never did. I stood there in the cold, praying the bird would return and answer my questions, but it never did. A sudden sense of déjà vu swept over me, and I took a step backwards. My heel caught the hem of my cloak and I tripped backwards, landing heavily on the stone.

I didn't care. I understood. The conflict the thrush spoke of—it was the one I had seen in my dreams and visions for the last two centuries. I had experienced it a hundred thousand ways, and I knew every outcome. My heart froze. In every one, Fili and Kili had died. This was the final battle. That was why it was imperative that my letter was delivered on time, so I would have help. I had to save Fili and Kili, and Thorin as well, if I could.

"Aeyera?"

I jumped, slipping and scraping my hand on a rough patch on the stone, then scrambled to my feet and ran to open my door. Kili stood there, looking concerned. I hid my injured hand behind my back. "Kili!"

"Aeyera, are you alright? Bombur just told me that you didn't eat yesterday, and you haven't been down this morning either…" his voice trailed off as he eyed the floor of my room, which was sopping wet, and my suspicious stance. "What are you hiding?" he asked slowly.

"Hm? Oh, it's nothing. I just slipped and cut my hand on the stone." I showed him the scrape, which was dripping blood, giving him a weak smile.

"Here, let me wrap it for you." He entered the room and sat me down on the bed, ignoring my protests. He sat beside me. "Why haven't you been eating?"

I shrugged. "I honestly haven't thought about it recently. I've been so worried about you, and Thorin, and everything going on, and—"

"Darling," he told me softly. "You know this is not your burden to bear."

"It is," I replied gently, placing my uninjured hand carefully against his cheek. "Just as it is yours." He sighed and tied off the bandage. I rested my head on his shoulder. "Kili, you know I cannot face Thorin, not while he is in this state."

He nodded silently, then stood and offered me his hand. "Come on," he smiled, but the warmth did not quite reach his eyes. "I'll protect you."

I chuckled and took his hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. "Of course."

"Do you want to spar again today?" he asked, leading me down the hall.

I shook my head and pressed my hand against my aching middle, glaring down at the beads scattered around on the floor. I took special care to move around them, bitterly recalling the many times I had slipped on them the night before. "No; I fear that I may need to spend my time sharpening my weapons as opposed to blunting them."

He stopped. "What do you mean?"

I stood across from him and crossed my arms protectively over my chest, fiddling with a piece of hair. Our eyes locked. I could see the emotions spinning in his eyes; the love, the despair, the confusion; all of it. When had I gotten to know him so well? "You know there will be a battle."

"No—" He took my hands. "Aeyera, we don't know that for certain. Dain and his soldiers—"

I squeezed back, gazing at him earnestly. "Will be here in two days time. There will be a skirmish at the least, Kili. And if Thranduil and his people come as I suspect they will," I swallowed, my mouth dry. "There will be a battle."

Kili glanced away from me, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. He spoke, but it sounded as though he were trying to convince himself instead of me. "Surely it will not come to that. Thorin will see reason."

"Kili—"

He stared up at me and straightened so that he stood just a bit taller that I. "What would you suggest we do, Aeyera?" His tone was sharp and cold.

I flinched back but answered with a strong voice. "We leave. You, Fili, Bilbo, Balin; anyone Thorin could hurt. We leave."

"You would betray your king?"

"I would save him!" My voice by now had risen. "But Kili, if he were to hurt or kill any of you—"

"He wouldn't!"

Kili's voice rose to match mine in desperation and pitch. His hands moved as he gestured wildly, trying to explain. "We don't know that! We can still bring him back, we can—"

"Kili." I touched his face and looked him in the eye, and he stopped speaking. "We can't save him, not now. We have to go while we still can."

He gazed at me for a few seconds, dark eyes darting across my face. He met my eyes, and his own darkened. My heart crawled into my throat as turned away, and I froze when he spoke, my stomach dropping to my toes. "No."

"Kili—"

He cut me off with a wave of his hand, a scowl disfiguring his face. "No, Aeyera!" He was shouting now. I didn't understand. Why couldn't he see reason? This was the only way. "I am the prince!" he gestured to himself, throwing his hands in the air. "I will not run away like a coward!"

I tried to speak calmly, tried to speak reason into him, but my panic and fear twisted my words. "You are not a coward. But Kili, if you stay here, you will die. Your brother will die—Your uncle will die! Do you not see that? It is not cowardice to save the ones you love." My voice rose, and I spoke desperately, begging him to see reason. "My mind has been overcome before, Kili! I know what madness looks like. I have felt it firsthand. Thorin has been taken by it! There is no bringing him back, not now. Not while he remains in the mountain."

"No," he said, backing up. He released his hold on me, and my hands dropped to my side, chilled without his touch. He was afraid now, and his fingers grasped at the stone as though he were trying to claw his way out of the mountain. He looked like a cornered animal. "If—If we just find the Arkenstone—"

"The stone would only seal his fate, Kili." I stepped up and gripped his cold, shaking hands in mine. "Perhaps it is better it is not found." I touched the betrothal braid in his hair, then moved my fingers to rest against his cheek. "My love," I whispered. "I will not allow you to die. I made a promise to protect your family, and I will keep it until my final breath."

He let out his breath and rested his face against my hand. He reached up and captured it in his own, and I could feel him shaking. "Aeyera, I cannot go against Uncle. You know this already. I am not as brave as you to rebel against my king."

My heart clenched. "Kili—"

He looked up and met my eyes, silencing me. "However, I will not allow you or Fili, or the others, to come to harm. If it comes to it, I will stand against him. I will fight. For you."

"Kili." I stepped forward as he wrapped his arms around me, and I embraced him tightly, pressing my face into his neck. He wasn't wearing armor yet, and I could feel his chorded muscle shifting as he breathed. His heart drummed against his chest, its beat matching my own.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he murmured into my hair, pressing his hand into it and twisting his fingers in the dark brown locks. "I promise."

"Kili," I whispered. "Please do not promise that. I can not let you continue to make these promises for me."

"You are the only one I can make them for," he answered, brushing a damp strand of hair behind my ear. "You are the one I will protect above all others."

"Kili, if something does happen—"

"Don't," he answered, shaking his head. "If a battle does come, we will be ready. I will fight by your side. And if we fall, we fall together."

He pulled me closer, and I nodded into his chest, feeling tears prick at my eyes. He would not help me because he dared not contradict his king. If only he knew. I was going against Thorin as we spoke. I had seen his countenance change, and I had very little hope that I would receive forgiveness should my actions be discovered. With each passing minute my hope for mercy dwindled as the eagle drew nearer to its destination and the mountain strengthened its grip on Thorin Oakenshield.