Huff. I've got school again tomorrow. Not fun. And I miss my old school. And I have… probably 1, possibly 0 friends. So I write instead and you guys opt to ignore me. Thanks. Here's your chapter.

As Kalira followed Urubek through the little back streets, she got more than a couple of curious glances. For one, she wasn't a dwarf, she had no facial hair, had pointed ears, and had the wrong build. She was also dressed in the archers' gear of Gondor, which was based off of elvish designs. Some scowled at her, others backed away (she was still fully armed- bow, quiver, sword, dual daggers, and various hidden implements), and some gazed at her in wonder. She tried to ignore them for the best part and soon they were stood on a little raised storefront.

A fanfare began again, and in strode Saruman, his white robes glittering in the evening sun. Kalira rolled her eyes but followed Urubek's example, and clapped, all be it half-heartedly. Saruman seemed a bit haughty and aloof if you asked her, but no one did, and within the hour, everything was back to how it had been.

As she wandered back to her tent that evening after supper, she pondered. She pondered why the great Saruman the white, leader of the White council, and esteemed, powerful and learned wizard, would come to this little tumbled down and forsaken village. She pondered what she was going to do in her search for Gandalf, he could be anywhere. And she also pondered on what may be in her locket. Identification? Possibly. A lock of her baby hair? Odd, but not inconceivable. A note, perhaps explaining who she was… Or maybe there was nothing, and she would never know anything of her parents.

Because of all of the thoughts swirling in her head, she didn't notice the figure around the corner until she bumped into it. She stumbled and would have fallen, hand strong hands not reached out and steadied her. Only then did she see who she had walked into.

'My lord Saruman! My apologies! I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I did not see you there!' Kalira bowed low to the towering wizard.

'Do not think any more of it, child. I was wondering if I could find someone to lead me to the guest accommodations? I would be much grateful.'

'Of course, my lord. I too am headed there for I arrived here not long before you. This way.' She set off at a brisk walking pace instep with the wizard. 'If I might ask, my lord, what is your business here?'

'I might ask you the same thing child.' Kalira scowled at being called a child again.

'I am searching for Gandalf the Grey Pilgrim. Would you have any knowledge of his whereabouts?'

'I do. He is currently riding from Isengard, following the Greenway to Tharbad, the city which meets the road and the River Gwahis.'

Kalira frowned, trying to remember where exactly that was. 'Thank you, my lord. Ere the morning, I shall ride forth and search, for my need is great and I require his counsel above all else. I am forever in your debt.'

'Do not worry yourself child, but there is one thing that you could do for me, to answer a nagging question that I cannot come to a conclusion upon.'

'And, pray, what is that my lord?'

'What are you, child?'

That took Kalira aback. Of all of the damn questions to ask, he had to choose a personal one. Of course he did! Inwardly sighing, she confessed her lack of knowledge to the wizard. 'I don't know, my lord. I apologise for my unhelpfulness.'

'Hmm. I see. Would you like some help to perhaps resolve the matter?'

Kalira's eyes widened as she realised what Saruman was implying. 'You can help me know who I am?'

'Yes, but I need one thing from you.'

'What is it? I'll do anything!' Kalira pleaded.

'I need a drop of your blood. It need only be small, but from it I can decipher your, I suspect, two origins. Am I right?' Saruman raised a long, wild eyebrow.

'Oh, um, yes, quite right I believe. But, when will the results show? I still need to move on as fast as is possible.' Kalira replied, flustered.

'By midnight at latest. I will await you outside the stables then; I always find that the best way to pass the time on horseback is to think deeply, and I am sure that you shall after the revelation. And besides, you said that you mean to move out quickly, so even better. Go and get some rest, and I will see you then.'

'As you wish, my lord. Do you wish to take the blood yourself, or for me to do it?'

'I think that you should, I am not sure as to why, but it always seems to hurt less then. Use this flask though.' He held a tiny vial out to her.

'Thank you.' She took the vial and slipped one of her daggers from her boot. In a small swift movement, she poked its tip into the centre of her left palm. She hurriedly wiped the knife on the edge of her cloak and scooped some of her blood into the flask. She then handed it back to Saruman. 'I shall see you at midnight, my lord. With the results, I hope.'

'Indeed. Sleep well child.' And with that he strode over to his own taller tent just behind the main accommodation.

Kalira rubbed her hands over her face as she sat on the bed, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She had just met Saruman the White, been told that he could find what she was- and within a few hours as well-, and she had learned of a way to open her locket. And seeing as she had a good while spare on her, she decided that that was what she would do.

Drawing out the locket again, she studied its surface until she once more found the star shaped hole at its top. Then she pulled out the chain, out of its loop, and took the 'key' end in one hand and the locket in the other. Not daring to breathe, lest something go wrong, Kalira slotted the key inside the little hole.

Click.

It swung open smoothly, as though the hinges had been oiled every day since it was made. Inside there were two pictures, each with captions, and two beads.

The pictures were both charcoal sketches, which colour over the top. One was of a dwarf, a female, with red hair and purple eyes. She had a teasing smile playing and her full, pink lips; the kind that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. She wore a series of braids in her hair: a Dutch braid looping over her brow and disappearing around the back of her head, and two smaller braids hanging down from behind her ears, along with delicate French plaits in her beard. The other portrait was of a man with slightly pointed ears, golden brown wavy hair that was around three inches all over his head which held two short braids in front of each ear, and bright green eyes, like fresh beech leaves in spring. He had delicate features, and no facial hair to speak of. He also had a warm smile on his face, and a playful twinkle in his eye. Above them were the labels: Amad and Gaffer.

These were her parents. She knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt. They were so beautiful, so young, and they looked so happy; both smiling and cheery, full of life. And they were dead. Kalira could feel the tears starting to well up in her eyes. These people were her real family, not adoptive, not fake. These people had loved her more than life, more than anything else in the world. She sniffed, she would do her Amad and her Gaffer proud. She would not let their sacrifice be in vain. She would stay strong for them, as they had for her.

She understood Mardun's last words to her now: 'Keep this safe for when you carry this, you carry the souls of us all'. She had thought he had meant all of the villagers- but he hadn't. He had meant all of her family; him, her Amad and her Gaffer… and now Eowyn as well. All of their spirits followed her through the barrier of death.

There were the beads as well though. She knew some of the Dwarrow's culture surrounding beads: they signified who you were, and where you placed them also meant something. The ones in her locket were obviously meant to represent the heritage of both sides of her family. One was made of silver and steel, with the designs of dragonflies carved into it with the geometric pattern of an hourglass in the background. It was beautiful in an imposing, powerful way. The other was a resin bead of the same sort of size, with a tiny aster, alyssum, camellia, carnation, dahlia, narcissus, statice, and water lily inside it. Kalira knew that they all stood for different things, but didn't have the concentration to think of quite what for each of them. Instead she broke down in another wave of tears and, still clutching the locket and beads, fell asleep.

Ok, I know that the ending was probably less than satisfactory, but hey-ho, we can't all be super-duper-incredible writers like I know some of you are :( But maybe you could show me that I'm not really wasting my time with all of this. It would be much appreciated, nothing makes writers happier than reveiws!