Author note: Quite a short chapter this time. It was either going to be about 9000 words or short and sweet. I'm saving the rest!

Thank you and hi all new follows and favs. Thank you Guest, InariKiri, Rogue's Queen, d'elfe, WickedGreene13, Absinthe Verte, magicbustrip and jazellsparrow for your reviews. They are all so kind, and it's so great to see people loving Keren and the plot. Because believe me I'm always slightly unsure of both!

This chapter takes us well and truly into what I call 'phase 2' of the story. I was so excited to write it, not least because I got to be using Elvish again. I have to say to anyone who writes fanfic and wants to accurately, the website RealElvish has once again been amazing - comprehensive dictionaries for the different dialects, essays on elven culture, in fact everything you may need to stick to canon, if such things are important to you. I have no idea who is responsible for it, but this is me saying if you're a lover of all things elf, then CHECK. IT. OUT.

Chapter Three - The Other Keren

Keren was in the middle of a thick swirling grey mist, through which she could see and hear nothing, not even her breath. She decided it was not an entirely unpleasant situation, and hovered about patiently, for she felt as though she had no limbs, no body. If this was what travelling with elves was like she could get used to it, for she had no worries, no fears, and she was not hungry – a rarity on this long journey. She did think it was all a little strange, for she was sure she had possessed a body up until now, but she did not question this new state of being.

There was still the issue of Legolas though, she thought. Even in this rather unusual method of transport, she still missed him. She wondered if he was thinking of her. Memories flickered back and forth – of the kiss on her forehead when he parted from her, of when he took her hand in the caves, of him in the moonlight at their first meeting. She had a brief fleeting image of him by the oak tree at Cormallen, although something was not right about it, for she had not remembered him standing weeping with grief, as she saw now. How odd. Before she could get too confused about it a voice reached her through the mist.

"Keren! Kereeeeeen! Noooo! Please, no! Not my sister, she's with child, she's with child!" A man's voice was shouting close at hand, from just above her. "Please, I beg you, show mercy, show mer – ah – "

The voice was cut off by a small, surprised exhalation, and then a thump as a body hit the ground. Sounds of close fighting, men yelling, women screaming, and awful inhuman cries and grunting noises were all around her. She could smell blood. Her blood. She could feel it warm between her legs and behind her head. Now she had a body.

The baby, the baby, was all she could think. They've killed the baby.

She lay still, and opened her eyes a crack, fearful of what she would see. She must have been knocked out, but the fighting had continued around her.

Above her, her father was defending both her and himself from a huge orc, for so she had learned these creatures were called. They had been warned before the journey to beware, particularly in remote areas such as this, but, brave or foolhardy, they had taken this path.

Her head swimming, she turned her head and a horrendous sight met her eyes. Her mother was spread-eagled on the ground, eyes glaring, blood running from a massive slice into her neck. She was looking into Keren's eyes, and she was dead. Above her mother, on a rocky ledge, her brother's body lay slumped, and she turned her head to avoid the sight of an orc beginning to tear at his flesh.

The sight the other side of the gorge was perhaps worse – her younger sister, only thirteen years old, lay curled up in a ball, eyes shut as if she was asleep, but Keren could tell from her furrowed brow and shaking hands that she had retreated in fear and acceptance of death. Looming over her was a smaller orc, a curved blade in his hand. Keren tried to stand, to rush to protect her sister, but her legs seemed to have stopped working.

"No, please, no," she managed to say, but she knew that even if she was heard she would be ignored.

Her sister met death with silence. The blade cut down into her heart, which caused her eyes to flare open in surprise and her blood to spurt several feet towards Keren. She slipped down the wall of rock and lay still. Keren could not watch as the orc ripped the blade from Inweth's chest, turning instead to see her father still battling with the largest orc. He was not a fighter, and Keren knew it was hopeless.

The blood was still dripping from her legs, and she knew she was going to die. She was unable to move to help her father, although the pain in her head seemed to be lessening, and her vision was perhaps not as blurry as before. But still, it was a matter of time.

Rather than watch her father lose his life, she closed her eyes and tried to picture home, tried to remove herself from this, her final ghastly moments of life. The mill, the Prancing Pony, the market, their cottage. Home. But nothing would come, all was blood and death. She heard her father scream in pain, and braced herself, for she knew that now, with no one to protect her and she unable to move, she was the next and last to die.

She gritted her teeth and tried to stop shaking, tried to find peace.

A roar filled the air, then another, then two heavy thumps. There was shouting from the orcs, who had gathered around her, but it seemed subdued compared to before. They were still growling and snuffing, but then she could clearly hear their heavy tread running from where she lay.

"Dago in yrch! Dago din!"

A strange voice cried, from far above her. She opened her eyes in surprise.

Her father was slumped against the rocky wall near to her sister, not dead, but blood was gushing out of his side.

"Ti hern, berio din, nesto din!" The commanding voice again. Arrows were flying, and the two orcs that were nearest her were dead, pierced in the head and heart. The aim had been accurate and deadly.

Who was helping them, and were they friend or foe? Perhaps they were only killing the orcs in order to rob Keren and her father more easily. Behind this thought was the dim awareness that her mother, brother and sister were dead, lying murdered a few feet from her.

Running footsteps were drawing near, light and quick, and suddenly hands were at her side and head. Gentle hands – it felt as though they were searching for injury rather than money. She opened her eyes, and they met large grey ones looking concernedly back. She had never seen such a person before, with long golden hair over his shoulders, and pointed ears.

"Im Orophin estannen, tolen dhe nathad," he said gently to her.

She watched as his eyes moved to look at her father and widened. The elf, for that is what she judged the strange man to be, ran to his side. She saw him lay her father down and speak to him gently, then lay a hand on his brow and whisper something. She knew her father had died.

She was alone, all her family gone in minutes.

The shouts and roars had stopped, and all was silent, except for the sound of her ragged breathing. The pain in her head was very faint now, and she could feel life coming back into her legs, but still there was that trickling from between them. She knew not how she could be injured there, for no orc had come near her other than to hit her hard over the head, which had caused her to black out.

Suddenly a pain all around her back and belly caused her to cry out, and she knew what was happening. It was not blood between her legs.

Her baby was wanting to be born. She had gone into labour, early.

At her cry the elf had run over, leaving her father's body still and silent, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Help me, help," she said under her breath, panicky, still not truly registering what had happened and what was going to have to happen. "The baby, my baby is coming."

The elf's brow creased as he tried to understand what she had said, but then as she held her large belly he realised what was happening and jumped to his feet.

"Haldir! Boe angwen mened!" he cried to someone she could not see.

"Man i theled?" A reply came from afar. "Ti gwand. Yrch a adan."

"Althand, tolo hi, hortho!"

She heard more running footsteps, and two more elves appeared, both also tall with long, fair hair.

"Alae," the first elf said, and the other two stared at where he pointed to her belly. She met their eyes with fear, for how could three male elves help her now? She needed a midwife, and a bed – a safe, warm bed.

But you should have thought of that before you lay with an idiot a month before you were due to set out.

She had no one but herself to blame for having to give birth on the side of the road after keeping her pregnancy secret for as long as she could, but she had thought her mother and sister would have been there to help when the time came. Grief hit her – sudden, painful grief.

"Haldir… Annunaid…Penin inc." The first elf looked to one of the others and spread his hands. She watched through her tears, as the other elf nodded and crouched beside her.

"My name is Haldir. These are my brothers, Orophin and Rumil. We are marchwardens of Lothlorien. You are close to our borders. We must get you to safety, and to a place where your babe may be born."

Without wondering how he could speak her language, she allowed herself to be taken into his arms and carried away from the scene of destruction. She was silent as he ran, and was barely jostled despite his fast pace.

"How is your head?" he asked.

"Fine," she mumbled, for indeed that was no longer the problem. "Please, hurry."

Her body wracked with a spasm again, and she gritted her teeth against the pain.

"I will take you to someone who can help, I promise you," he said, not seeming out of breath. "We will need to blindfold your eyes for a time, once across our borders. I am sorry, but – "

"Why, where are you taking me?" she asked fearfully, her heart still pounding.

"To Caras Galadhon, within Lothlorien our homeland, but our Lady does not permit – "

He stopped short as the girl grimaced again, her stomach contorting. Words failed him. He had never seen childbirth before, let alone in a human. Blindfolding her surely would not help matters. He looked down at the girls' face, pale and covered with sweat. He decided that he would face the consequences of allowing her to have sight of Lorien, for the Lady would surely understand. Assessing her worriedly, a small part of him felt that she would not last to see much of their land anyway, for she seemed so small and weak to be giving birth.

He knew not where they were travelling from or to, but taking the pass through the mountains had been a grave mistake, and now she was suffering for it. The journey had clearly left her malnourished and exhausted, for there were dark rings under her eyes, her hair was dull and hanging limply, and her cheekbones were sharp in her thin face. What had led a pregnant human girl so close to their lands he could not imagine. When the contraction had passed, her eyes cleared of pain and he took the chance to ask her.

"Where have you come from?" he said shortly. "What brings you here?"

"Bree, in the north," she said breathlessly. "My father, he is from a long line of merchants. We are – we are travelling far south to Minas… Minas Tirith. We have cousins there, but so distant they may not know us. My ancestors had sailed north from there many years ago, but now… my father is hungry for more gold that only the great men of the South have, and since my mother cannot sail, we are going by road."

Haldir felt sadness for the girl, as she kept referring to her family as if they were all still alive. The truth would fully hit her later, he knew, if she survived.

"And what is your name?" he wondered.

"Keren," she said. "Daughter of Padion."

Keren, daughter of Maleron, awoke with a start. It took a while for her to realise where she was, asleep on the back of someone else's horse, strong arms around her middle to stop her falling off. She turned to see a female elf sitting behind her, looking concerned.

"Is all well?" the elf asked her in a low, whispering voice. She looked much like Galadriel, with long, almost white hair and piercing grey eyes.

Keren was shaking. The dream had been so real. She had seen, felt, smelt everything as if it had truly happened to her. When she looked down at her stomach she was relieved to see it was flat. A girl with the same name as her, who had travelled from Bree, who was pregnant…

It cannot be, Keren thought stubbornly. You are just exhausted and having strange dreams.

But she remembered what had happened before the dream. Her crystal, the elves song, and her inability to recall anything after that. The crystal was still clenched in her hand. She looked around properly, wanting to be brought back to reality.

Either side of her were tall faces of grey rock, reaching up to a clear blue sky that seemed higher up than usual. The ground was rough and stony, and a chill wind blew between the two cliff faces.

Mountain pass, Keren thought numbly. This is the same mountain pass.

She shivered violently, for she was fairly convinced they had just passed the exact spot where she had seen an unfamiliar young girl, who in the dream had been her sister, slide down the stone wall of the cliff, an orc's curved blade in her heart.

Do not tell, came the thought. Do not tell them.

"All is well," she heard herself say, her eyes fixed to the spot. "The cold wind woke me."

She did not turn to see the elf's no doubt dubious expression.

"It is not far now," the calm female voice just behind her said. "Two day's gentle journeying and we shall be within the borders of our home."

Not my home, Keren thought, never feeling so out of sorts and unprotected. Not mine.

"At the end of this pass we come to Nanduhirion, and from there we follow the Celebrant to the Golden Wood."

Keren did not know how to acknowledge these words, for the place names meant nothing to her. All she could think of was the girl and her baby. How would she have survived a journey of two days?

"How long have we been travelling since we left the hobbits and Mithrandir?" she asked instead. "It cannot be more than two days."

"We have been on the road almost two weeks," was the reply. "You have been… asleep."

Keren, too tired and too shaken to ask more questions, took this as an acceptable answer, sure that she would dwell on it later.

"You might want to put that crystal away now," said the elf.

In comparison to her apparently lost twelve days, the last two went by incredibly slowly. The elves lingered in the dale behind the mountains for hours. Impressive as it was, Keren had a burning desire, now she had shaken the dream off her shoulders, to get some answers to her many questions about her unconscious mode of transport. She was pleased to be back on Leofric and smiled at the thought of what Legolas would have to say about that. The elf who had seemingly sat behind her whilst she was in her dream-like state had not shared her name, and turned out to have been the antithesis of chatty.

Once they finally decided to move on, they followed the course of a small river of clear, fast-flowing water that led south from the great silent lake in the middle of the valley. They kept close to the busy, noisy little stream for another full day, until finally Keren saw ahead green plains, and in the distance tall trees with dark green leaves atop trunks of silver-grey wood. The sun shone on them and the land beneath them appeared golden and warm. She felt a pull in her heart. She wanted to be there.

As the group of travellers grew nearer they began raising their arms in greeting. Keren squinted, and thought she could just make out three tiny figures in the distance beneath the boughs of the outermost trees. Sure enough, they became clearer as she rode closer, until Keren thought she was looking at three Legolas's.

She blinked, and saw that no, although there were similarities in the height and the long, fair hair, they were all facially very different from her friend. And yet there was a likeness between the three of them – the same large eyes, full lips and square jaws. She held her breath, for she had seen those faces before.

"Dhe suilannon, Brannon vuin, Brennil vuin", the one in the centre of the three said.

"Suil, Haldir," Galadriel said. "Rumil, Orophin." She nodded at each in turn, who bowed, a hand to their breast.

Keren was just behind the lady, and hoped her releasing a shocked breath was not audible. It was them, the three elves who had saved her. No, not her. Saved the other Keren.

Looking gingerly over Galadriel's shoulder, she could see it appeared they were having similar thoughts, for their faces were for a short time fearful, then wondering.

Galadriel looked behind her, then smiled.

"You have seen our new guest," she said switching to Keren's language. Keren watched as the elf called Haldir quickly translated for the others, not taking his eyes off her, and she could only assume that Westron was being spoken for her benefit alone.

"This is Keren," Galadriel went on. "She has come here to learn. Much of what she shall learn, she shall learn from you. I leave her with you for a time – tell her all you know, and treat her kindly for she is, like her mother and grandmother, welcome here."

All three's eyes had widened at the sound of her name, and the two who did not speak Westron began muttering and gesticulating wildly to each other.

"A!" cried the third, a stern frown on his face for each of them. "Penig channas? Daro."

The other two stopped talking immediately, faces comedically frozen, and Keren just had the distinct impression the middle one had told them in no uncertain terms to stop panicking like idiots.

"Apologies, my lady," Haldir bowed low. "The sight of our guest has unsettled us. We were not expecting… She is so like…"

Galadriel only smiled, then her horse began a slow walk into the forest. Naturally all the other elves followed suit, most smiling quickly at the three very confused elves as they passed. None of them gave her a word of farewell, even the one she had shared a horse with. It appeared she was someone else's problem now.

The four of them waited, awkwardly studying each other, Keren still in the saddle. The one called Orophin eventually came to his senses and sprang to Leofric's side, offering a hand to Keren to help her dismount. He did not take his eyes off her face the whole time she moved, and released her hand quickly once she was on the ground, as if frightened to touch her too long.

"I remember you," Keren whispered, to which she received an inquisitive frown.

Haldir, after a pause, translated, in a voice that shook a little. Orophin drew back a little in fear, and Keren realised what she said had made no sense.

"I – I had a dream," she said, looking only at Haldir as she spoke, watching him translate. "On the way here, on the mountain pass. You, all of you, were in it. You saved me."

The three elves looked at each other, and it was clear they had not bargained on this.

Haldir, seeming to come to a decision, stepped forward.

"Welcome, Keren, daughter of Orwen," he said, replacing her father's well-worn name with that of her mother's, a name he could not possibly know. "We have much to tell you."

Author note: Eeeee! We made it to Lothlorien! When I started writing this story it felt soooo faaaar awaaay and now I'm here! *Waves at Haldir* In the next chapter he will answer a lot of your (and Keren's) questions...