Author note: Finally I've published this chapter! I've really struggled with it as it's just been so sad to write. I promise things perk up again! My main delay however is that I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED ALL MY NOTES, OVER A YEAR'S WORTH, INCLUDING MY ENTIRE TIMELINE AND PLOT SUMMARY FOR THE WHOLE TRILOGY, so I've had to start doing all that from scratch too. Ermahgerd. It was so frustrating I CAN'T TELL YOU.

Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed for the last chapter, including lots of new readers. I'm stoked people are still finding this and enjoying it :)

The list is now getting too long to thank every single person who follows or favs, but THANK YOU SO MUCH. It makes me so happy to see all your names next to the title of something I dared to publish over a year ago and that has grown so much. x

A fair bit of Tolkien's writing in this one, so I will say again that only my original characters, and everything they say or do that has not previously been written elsewhere, is mine. Obvs.

Book Two, Chapter Two - Many Partings

Three days gentle riding had brought the group to Isengard, slower than planned, for folk were inclined to linger – the journey had been pleasant in the warm weather, and only Keren and Legolas were to be found looking solemn, for the others had many more days together on the road. They had ridden together on Arod, with no one questioning, and Keren wondered just how many people knew of their friendship, for it could not be easily hidden now.

She was sat basking in the sun, a juicy apple in one hand and her water-skin in the other, looking down on fruit trees and fine green lawns, leading down to a clear lake in the centre of the valley. From there she could see the giant tower of Orthanc reflected in the still surface of the water.

Very little she knew of this place, and less still of its new inhabitants. She had been told to expect a people that her mind would tell her were not real.

She and the others had been sat under the trees marking the entrance to Isengard for what had felt a long while, and it was clear from the reaction of a lot of the group that they were not expecting what they saw. Merry and Pippin had told her of their time at Isengard, and Legolas had sat quietly with a smile, as he viewed the wondrous changes the Ents had brought to the valley. The trees and grass were a new addition – for many years it had been the wizard Saruman's domain, when all was turned to fire and smoke, whereas before there had been beautiful gardens, perhaps finer even than the ones created now.

Keren had asked what exactly Ents were, and how they could build and plant so quickly, but neither of the hobbits had seemed able to answer her. She was not to be left wondering for long however.

A strange booming noise began, and heavy thuds that made the ground beneath them shake a little. Keren stared in wonder at the sight of two figures appearing from between the trees walking towards her, and then gasped aloud when she realised the hoom-hom sound was coming from one of them.

"Are they… trees?" she whispered to Pippin. "Walking, talking trees?"

But Merry and Pippin had gone, and were running towards the trees with great shouts of joy.

"To call them trees is to do them a disservice," came Legolas's reply instead. "They are shepherds of the forest. They are the oldest beings in the land, and some of the rarest. And Fangorn, why he has a whole forest named for him. It is there I travel to when we leave this place."

Without wishing to be reminded of their now imminent separation, Keren distracted herself with studying the ents as they walked slowly closer to the group of travellers, Merry and Pippin now trotting along at their heels. With every step, roots instead of toes sunk into the ground, and Keren could hear great creaking sounds as their arms like giant branches swayed with their strides.

They greeted the group, although she noticed they did not once glance in her direction, for none of the great deeds that they were reeling off in praise were anything to do with her. They bent low to converse quietly with Mithrandir and the King, and Keren strained her ears to hear but could only discern a low rumbling.

"The tall, grey one is Bregalad, and the other Fangorn himself. Quickbeam and Treebeard in your tongue," Legolas explained.

The Ents had a strange way of speaking, almost like a pair of bellows blowing in and out, with strange humming and booming noises dotted amongst both unfamiliar and recognisable words. Keren did not follow the hushed conversation. After a time Quickbeam handed a giant set of keys to the King, and Keren wondered what they were for. Treebeard straightened himself up with a creak and a groan, and suddenly his voice grew loud and jovial.

"But I am forgetting my manners! Will you stay here and rest a while? And maybe there are some that would be pleased to pass through Fangorn Forest and so shorten their road home?"

The bark on his face bent into shapes that looked like a smile and a crinkling around the eyes as he addressed Celeborn and Galadriel. Keren's heart rose as she thought of getting to travel beside Legolas for a while longer, but her hopes were quickly dashed by the Lord Celeborn's answer.

"Nay, Eldest. We travel west for a time, with our friends old and new."

With this sentence at last Treebeard's eyes slid to Keren, and she felt unnerved looking into two empty black hollows, which still seemed to judge her. She held his gaze, as one would a wild animal that needed reassurance that their potential foe could be trusted, and felt a sense of immense age and wisdom, more than any that she already met, except perhaps the Lady Galadriel.

But at least her eyes have pupils, Keren thought, and suppressed a shudder – she felt that this Treebeard was not a person to offend.

"I beg permission to travel through your lands, Eldest." Legolas's voice behind her made her jump out of her staring match. "I have promised a journey with my friend, Gimli, and the common route to our homes is through Fangorn Forest. I wish for him to see the greatness and beauty of that realm, for little does he know of root and leaf."

Treebeard hoom-ha'd with amusement.

"You have my leave, Greenleaf," he replied. "And you may wander wherever you wish. I know there are many friends waiting for you who will be glad of your company again."

Legolas bowed reverently, a hand to his breast, then straightened up with a grin.

"Come Gimli!" he cried. "Now with Fangorn's leave I will visit the deep places of the Entwood and see such trees as are nowhere else to be found in Middle-earth. You shall come with me and keep your word; and thus we will journey on together to our own lands in Mirkwood and beyond."

Gimli grunted an agreement, and Legolas sprang forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. Keren was suddenly alone, and the moment was upon her. The next parting she would have to make. And yet she found she could not speak, could not even whisper to Legolas to call him back, and before she could get any words out suddenly Elessar was speaking.

"Here then at last comes the ending of the Fellowship of the Ring. Yet I hope that ere long you will return to my land with the help that you promised."

"We will come if our own lords allow it," Gimli replied quickly, and Legolas looked anxious. Keren immediately knew it was because he was unsure that his father would allow it.

Gimli turned to the hobbits, who suddenly looked stricken.

"Well, farewell, my hobbits!" he said, with the appearance of one who was desperately trying to smile for the other's sake, lest all burst into tears. "You should come safe to your own houses now, and I shall not be kept awake for fear of your peril. We will send word when we may, and some of us may yet meet at times; but I fear that we shall not all be gathered together ever again."

His voice quavered at the end, and Keren felt a lump rise in her throat at the sight of the eight companions grouped together, their original number already cut by one through a far more final goodbye. A vision of Boromir wandered through her mind's eye, and she felt a grief for the young man she had once seen sparring with at the top of the citadel, who by rights should also have been here. But then she found her mind seeking Faramir within that memory and ruthlessly shrugged it away.

She walked away a little to give them some privacy in their final moments together, and soon the group had split. Both Gimli and Legolas bowed to the elves of Lothlorien, then turned together towards Keren.

Gimli awkwardly stood to one side as Legolas stood before her, offering her his hand.

"Will you help me with Arod?" he asked quietly.

Keren, knowing that he needed no help, took his hand and allowed herself to be led to where the horses had been tethered. The group were far enough away for them to be out of earshot, and Keren could see Treebeard beginning his farewells, bowing deeply to the elves.

Legolas checked Arod's saddle and reins, and bent to inspect his hooves. Keren gently patted the horses' neck and stroked his nose, and he whinnied gently.

"I knew you would make friends in the end," Legolas said gently.

Keren smiled through the tears that had started in her eyes.

"I am learning that it is only when we say goodbye I realise how good my friends have been to me," she said, unable to meet his eye. "How well they have carried me."

He did not speak, but took her hand.

"I do not think I could have seen…everything through, had it not been for you guiding me through it," she went on. "And you did it so well I was not even aware that almost everything I did was because of you, and your words. You saved me."

"They were just words, and in choosing to listen to them you believe you were saved. But from what? You need not have listened, and then you would simply have gone down another path, and who is to say what that would have brought."

"Somehow I don't think I would have ended up here." Keren smiled wryly, which he returned.

A silence grew between them, and she looked down, eyelashes wet.

"How can I thank you for all you did, and said?" she whispered, still looking at his feet.

"You must not think that we will not meet again," he said eventually. "I will return to Minas Tirith, with or without my father's blessing."

"But what if I am not there?" she said, finally meeting his gaze. "What if…"

She could not finish.

"How long you stay with the elves is down to you. You will be safe in Lothlorien, and you may find you wish to remain. Or you may wish to go home. Either way, I will find you, for both places are dear to me, and my feet will miss those paths before long."

"But what is a short time to you may be centuries for me, and I will be gone, and we shall never meet again."

At this her tears spilled over, and he hugged her to him tightly.

"Do you think I would forget you, and let you live your whole life without more of my confusing advice?" he said with a smile. She felt his voice resonating in his chest as she learnt her forehead against him, and she found she could not keep a smile from her own face. "Nay, Keren, we will see each other again before either of our time here is at an end. This is not the last time I shall see your face, and most glad I am of that."

"But how can you be so sure?" she whispered, drawing back to look into his face, which despite his words nevertheless looked strained.

"Because I trust myself to follow my own advice – to not let you go now that I have found you."

And with that he kissed her brow, and wiped away the tears that were falling down her cheeks.

Behind his shoulder she could see Gimli approaching, and Legolas broke apart from her to help his friend into the saddle, before mounting Arod himself.

"Cuio vê, Keren," he said, the reins in his hands, and she recognised the strange words he had said to her once before, except this time he had a strange smile that appeared as if he was struggling to hide it. "No gelin idh raid lîn."

"Wait, what does that mean?" she asked desperately this time.

"I have a feeling you will soon learn," he said, with a strange smile.

Then before she could register what was happening he had turned Arod around and galloped off, and she was left with nothing but the settling dust.

The whole group departed from Isengard within a matter of minutes after her parting with the elf, and soon they were on the road again. No one spoke to her as they travelled, and she was trying to process the sudden elf-shaped hole that had been left.

It was but a matter of hours until their next stop, when Elessar made his farewells and travelled south once more. Again Keren kept her distance from the group as they spent their final moments together in fellowship, and instead she stood with the elves, solemnly watching from afar as Elessar knelt before the hobbits and hugged each in turn.

Standing, he walked over to the elves, and bid a fond farewell to Celeborn and Galadriel. The Lady was merry, but Celeborn's parting words to the King puzzled Keren.

"May your doom be other than mine, and your treasure remain with you to the end!" he said.

Keren felt that Celeborn surely had all he wanted, and his immortality must mean that he would inevitably have it until the end of his life.

But I know very little of elves, she realised, despite having the friendship of one of the best.

Still sore from their hasty parting only a few hours since, she turned her mind from Legolas and curtsied low to Elessar as he gave his final farewells.

The sun was setting as he rode away with his best knights around him, and when he reached the peak of the near horizon he turned in his saddle. He raised his hand aloft and held something within it – it was the green stone that Keren had seen him wearing on his breast the first day she had seen him, at Faramir's bedside within the Houses. She recognised it thanks to the powerful bright glow that now emitted from his palm, the glow that Beregond had not been able to see, but she had beheld in wonder. She wondered if all here could see it too. Judging by the sadness present in the hobbits faces, and the lack of awe, she guessed not.

It was only as she bedded down for the night that she wondered why she saw something that only elves and wizards could see. But then as she shut her eyes the thought leapt from her mind, for she felt a familiar wrench begin somewhere inside her – she could never tell if it was in her heart or her stomach – and immediately she began to feel frustrated for surely, surely she could not still be missing Faramir. The old feeling of loss and pain had struck her where it always did. And yet…

Faramir was still there, but beside him there was a new pain now, a pain less sharp and biting. This pain was heavy and sad.

She rolled onto her back to try and alleviate it, and her eyes opened upon a blanket of stars in the black sky, twinkling down at her, making her pain seem suddenly very small and all-encompassing at the same time.

"Goodnight, Legolas," she whispered. "Find me again, my friend."

For six days they travelled west and north, the land becoming wilder and the air beginning to cool. Keren had entirely abandoned all hope of working out how far they had come, how many days they had been travelling, or even where they were. Most seemed to know the paths well, although her and the three hobbits less inclined to study maps often shrugged at each other when a place name was announced, for it meant nothing to them, nor could they use it to distinguish where on Middle-earth they were.

The Misty Mountains were a constant presence to their right as they journeyed north, but they saw no people on the road or in the surrounding lands, until one day they passed two beggars who were hobbling slowly along at the edge of the dusty track. Keren felt pity at their ragged appearance, and wondered where they were going and where they had come from. But as she drew closer a feeling of deep unease took hold, and she found herself slowing her horse and drawing towards the back of the group. She knew not why she suddenly felt so wary, but as she slowly went past them she could see they were not unknown to several of the group, and she felt it wise to trust her instincts, for the older beggar's manners seemed course and cruel.

She heard but one thing from his lips as she passed, and that was enough.

"…bear you back across so wide a sea? It will be a grey ship, and full of ghosts."

She knew he meant the elves passing over the sea into the West, and she cringed at the mean mockery in his voice, not lingering to hear the reply from his audience of Mithrandir and the Lord and Lady. She wanted to get as far away from him as possible, and all along that long stretch of road she was fearful to look back in case he was catching up with them.

That night she slept fitfully, the beggar with his hooked nose and glaring eyes, that fortunately had never rested on her, in her mind, limping towards her down the road.

In the morning she felt a little better, for the countryside was now lush and green. The sun shone, and there was no sign of any ominous figure clad in dirty white robes. On reflection Keren realised what had caused a large part of her discomfort – the man had reminded her of Mithrandir. She looked over at the familiar site of the wizard in his white robes atop his white horse. The nose was large but not hooked, and the face was not scowling but smiling, eyes closed, head back, soaking in the sun's rays.

Suddenly he opened his eyes and turned his head to look straight at her, unblinking. She had the uneasy sense he had known she was staring before. He beckoned her over with a tilt of his head, and she, uncertain, went to his side, their horses clopping along at a steady walk.

"You are wondering who our scowling friends were?" he said by means of an introduction.

She knew not what to say in reply; she barely knew how to address him.

"The younger is of no concern to you, for he has chosen to be a nobody. The elder is of little concern to you, or indeed to anyone now," Mithrandir said, almost sadly. "And yet the greatest of us he once was, in his day."

He looked sideways at Keren and chuckled at her shocked face.

"Oh, yes, he is a wizard. Was. Well. It's complicated."

Keren blinked.

"I suppose you could say that he was once…me," Mithrandir said inexplicably.

When Keren still did not speak – for what was there to say? – the wizard went on.

"Mithrandir you call me, Grey Pilgrim," he said. "But you are out of date, as I believe you have already been told. Gandalf the Grey was my name to others, but they would also be wrong. Now I am Gandalf the White. And when I was reborn as such, I did not realise (for such things were unprecedented) that there was not enough room in Middle-earth for two white wizards. So it seems that Saruman's days as the White are over, for already he is turning to brown and grey, as you saw. An old shadow of what he once was."

He said this all matter-of-factly, as if reciting Keren a well-known but dull story. She, however, was most confused.

Reborn as such? Did wizards, like elves, have the gift of reincarnation? She was afraid to ask, for this did not seem like a two-sided conversation. He may have belatedly realised this, for suddenly he smiled.

"But Mithrandir you first called me, and, if it will be of some comfort, Mithrandir I may remain to you. Although soon the time will come for our parting, and my name in any guise will be but a memory to you."

Keren looked solemnly back at him, wondering if he even remembered her name.

"Put Saruman out of your mind, for evil is passing from this land, and his time will soon come. But I'm sure," he went on, "that you will have plenty to think of which means that you will never give him a moment's thought."

He chuckled, and clicked to Shadowfax to walk on, leaving Keren alone with her thoughts.

Several days more of gentle riding took them past rippling streams and empty fields, until they reached a ford crossing a larger river. Mithrandir shouted that they had passed into the realm of Eregion, and the hobbits' faces brightened, for that was a name they knew.

"We must be getting near to Moria," Sam said, with a hint of foreboding.

"Correct, Master Gamgee," said Mithrandir. "But you will be pleased to hear our road does not go beneath ground this time. We reach Rivendell by roads once closed to us, and if that is not a sign that we succeeded in our quest for peace, I don't know what is."

The next morning they awoke atop a hill to a fine mist in the valley below them. Far in the distance lay the Misty Mountains, and all bar Keren were quick to recognise the three largest peaks of Caradhras, Celebdil and Fanuidhol.

The group was a quiet one that morning, but the hobbits were especially subdued.

"What's the matter, Pip?" Keren wondered as she saw the hobbit looking out across to Caradhras.

"Well, it's a funny feeling," he said after a little while, still staring ahead. "Under that mountain, Gandalf died. And we grieved. And yet… here he is, sat smoking a pipe with Frodo like before. Who, by all accounts, if you please, should have died too."

He looked over at her and shrugged.

"Sometimes I feel like I haven't got a grasp on the world at all," he said. "At times like this I feel very confused about the whole thing. Life. Death. All of it. And what it's for, I suppose."

Keren had no answer other than what she had been thinking herself over the past few weeks.

"Well, at least we have friends to help us muddle our way through it," she said.

At this she was surprised to see tears form in Pippin's eyes.

"Pip?"

He sniffed, and shrugged again.

"I'll miss you," was all he said.

She looked at him steadily, and she knew with certainty that this was one friend she most definitely would not see again once they parted.

"And I you."

A week passed atop the hill, for it became apparent that all wished to delay the inevitable parting. The elves had travelled well out of their way with Mithrandir and the hobbits, for they had held long counsel with the wizard on their journey. But now all their important talk was done, and there was no reason for them to prolong their journey any further. They must turn east and return to their home beyond the mountains, Keren with them.

Each night as Keren lay down to sleep near to the hobbits, she looked over at the elves and the wizard sat around the fire. Never did they speak, but instead sat smiling and sharing glances just as if they were. Trying not to think too hard about that, Keren would always fall asleep slowly, memories flying through her head of all that she had been through, and was still happening, and now, rising up faster and faster, the dread at saying goodbye to Merry and Pippin.

The seventh day had not dawned fully when Keren awoke, but she knew, from the bustle that awoke her, that the day of departure had arrived. All who had risen were tending to their horses or checking over their packs. Keren jumped up, fearing a hasty departure and a missed farewell with the hobbits, and went to see to Leofric, who she was almost on speaking terms with now. He chomped lazily at the grass as she inspected his hooves and tightened the saddle, things Legolas had taught her how to do. Leofric had carried her well for many leagues, despite not being her horse in the first place, despite being the first horse she had ever ridden alone, despite them not immediately seeing eye to eye. She was still far from a natural horsewoman, but she no longer bounced about like a sack of potatoes, and he almost always followed her commands now. He seemed happy and ready for another long march.

The sun still had not yet fully risen when all had been made ready. The hobbits and Mithrandir parted solemnly from the elves, who mounted their horses with a fluidity that was definitely not human, in Keren's opinion. No tears were shed, for in truth the hobbits were all a little afraid of the people of Lorien. And now Keren was to go with them. They seemed solemn and serious, even sad, and she wondered if time would pass horrendously slowly with them as they travelled on.

The Lady Galadriel's eyes met Keren's, and she could see the unspoken message in them before the Lady turned her horse and led the slow procession off down the hill. Keren had a few minutes, but not too long or she would lose the elves, and therefore her way.

She hurried over to the hobbits, who stood in a semi-circle before her, Pippin already crying.

She could not think of anything to say, and so she knelt before them and enveloped Merry and Pippin in a hug, sobbing. Frodo and Sam, always a little distant after their time in Mordor, looked on with sadness for their friends.

"Please don't go," Pippin said in her ear. "Come with us."

"You'd be welcome in the Shire." Keren heard Sam's voice from over her shoulder.

"We'd be honoured to show you our home," came Frodo's quiet voice. "If you wish. But I feel it is right that you leave us here, somehow."

Keren drew back a little.

"Frodo is right, Pip," she said, sniffing. "I have to go with them. I have to find out who I am. And maybe, once I've dealt with that small matter, I can come and visit," she said with a little laugh through her tears.

They all smiled sadly in response, for this meeting had an air of finality hanging over it that all could feel. They had had great fun, great adventures together, but now their time was done. Keren's life was moving away from theirs.

"Oh, I'll miss you," she said in reply to the silence.

Merry began to cry, for he had greatly loved Palen – parting from her had been hard, and now saying goodbye to her sister was parting with the final link to her.

Pippin wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Goodbye, Keren," he said. "Take such good care of yourself. And I hope we meet again, somewhere."

"Thank you for everything, Pip," she replied, tears streaming down her face. "I could not have wished for a better friend. I wish we had had years together. I wish a lot of things. I wish… I wish you happiness. All of you."

She looked around at this, her strange and unexpected group of friends. Half a year ago she had not known what a hobbit was, and now she would find it hard to imagine her life without them in it.

A horn sounded from the valley below.

"I had better go," she said sadly, for the last of the elves were leaving the hilltop. "Farewell, my hobbits. Thank you. Goodbye."

"Thank you for what?" came Pippin's reply.

"Thank you for bringing laughter to me when I thought I could not even smile," she said.

The moon had risen, and she had been riding with the elves a full day. She was at the back of the group, and no one was speaking to her, so she was left alone with her thoughts – thoughts of all the partings she had made over the past couple of months, from everyone and everything that was safe and familiar, who had had a part to play in leading her to where she was now, on a narrow path of rock, surrounded by shimmering silent figures out of legend.

The Houses. Ioreth. The Warden.

The city. Palen. Her father. Beregond.

Pippin. The hobbits. Mithrandir.

Faramir.

Legolas.

She really was on her own now.

For the first time in weeks she took her crystal from its pouch, where it had been hanging from her waist all through her travels, a silent companion.

Now I need you, now it's your time, she thought. You are all I have left.

It glowed silently in her palm, and gentle, haunting music came to her ears.

Oh, Elbereth Gilthoniel,

Silivren penna míriel

O menel aglar elenath!

The elves had begun to sing. Sudden weariness took her, and she knew no more.

Author note: Ok I sobbed like a baby. I love Pippin. I love what he brought to Keren (and to me). Bye Pip x