Author note: Keren's coming home! I honestly never thought I'd make it to Lothlorien, so to go there and back again feels huge! Now I've just got to write the rest...

I remain totally surprised and really happy when I see your comments, and all the new follows and favs coming through. I hope now that this many of you have followed Keren this far you'll stick with her for the other journeys she'll make (and there's gonna be a big one coming up fairly soon!). I'm SO EXCITED for what's coming. And if this story feels never-ending to you - I promise you there is an end, but we've got a way to go yet. Big love x

Chapter Thirteen - Journey's End

Ithilien. To think when she had first journeyed here it had felt a million miles away from home. Now she felt within a stones' throw of Minas Tirith.

The weather was much the same as it had been the last time she walked upon the field of Cormallen, but now the cool air heralded the coming of winter rather than its departure. She had taken off her boots for the first time since Lórien, and was revelling in the feeling of the cool grass between her toes. Soon she would be home in her city of stone, and the chances to walk barefoot and keep the soles of her feet intact were slim to nil. Best make the most of it while she could.

Despite the total defeat of the Shadow, Ithilien was for now still a deserted land. The Anduin ran its noisy course nearby, birds sang in the trees atop the hill, the breeze blew through the willows at the water's edge, and not a soul was there to share it with her other than her two elves, who were currently resting close to the woods. She walked up the gentle incline towards them.

"I might go for a little wander in the woods," she said as she reached them. "I've had enough of the river for a long time."

It was true that the last few days upon Anduin had been interminable - cold, long days with little sleep and the tiniest rations of dried food. She was longing for a hot bath and roast meat with gravy, maybe even at the same time.

"Do not stray too far," Legolas said. "Much has changed, but we are still only a day's march from the borders of the Black Land, and not all of the Dark Lord's servants perished."

Keren smiled at his care.

"Don't worry, I'm only heading for the old oak tree, it's almost within sight and definitely within calling distance."

A strange look came over Legolas's face, and he did not speak again, but watched her go, following the path he had taken the night of the feasting.

"Old oak tree?" Haldir looked sideways at the other elf. "She speaks as if you know it too."

"One of our first meetings took place there," Legolas explained. "I crashed in on her thoughts when she was alone. This time I shall leave her in solitude."

Haldir paused a moment before his next words.

"What if she does not wish for solitude this time? What if she goes there in the hopes that you will follow, knowing it is a place that holds meaning for you both?"

Legolas looked steadily forwards towards the river, and did not answer, though a muscle ticked in his jaw.

"Greenleaf, my friend, may I speak plainly?" Haldir ventured to continue.

"I believe you just have."

"Do not be angry with me for being concerned over two people I hold close in my heart. Keren is the daughter of the woman I loved, the woman I still love, though she is dead. I would not see her come to harm, especially as she has seen so much sadness already. Nor would I have you unhappy."

Haldir did not need to say more, and Legolas knew it was time to talk of his love and grief.

"Forgive me, friend," Legolas replied. "But with those words you raise my cause for unhappiness. You love her mother, though she is dead - you are now doomed to love but a memory. This too is my fate. Every day, every minute, seems to speed by too fast. I - I feel a need to keep her still, trapped in time, always here, never ageing, never dying, as one of us. But that is not her lot, and I hate myself for wishing to make her something she is not and never can be. For all I want is for her to be happy, and I cannot see how she can be if she has to wither and die, whilst I remain ever-young, a cruel reminder of her youth. If the Steward had returned her love I would have let her go, and I tried so hard to distance myself when I saw she had started to awaken to the idea of us as a pair, to save her. But now…"

"At last you have told me what I have long known," Haldir said simply. "You love her."

"More than that, Haldir - she is my bond-mate. I cannot distance myself from her. If I wanted things to be different they could not be. But, surely, the Powers, the One, they would not bond two beings together if all it brought them was unhappiness?"

"Oh, Greenleaf, you are wiser than that. It is useless to question the Valar, for we will never get an answer. Gone are the days when they speak to us clearly, for our people still need to gain their full trust again, although ages have gone by. All now comes in messages and signs, which we are left to interpret as we would. Is it fate or is it choice? We cannot know."

Legolas smiled wryly.

"I told her a similar thing once, by the very tree where she is now. And now see how much has changed since then - it is my thoughts that are in turmoil now, and I have forgotten my own advice. Haldir, it shook my whole world, the day I knew she was mine, and I do not think I will ever recover. For even if she feels the same - "

"Which you know, if she truly is your bond-mate, that she does, or will soon," Haldir interrupted.

"Even when she returns my love," Legolas conceded, "it will only bring happiness for a short time. Short even by men's reckoning, nothing for us."

"Happiness should not be measured by how long it lasts," Haldir countered. "I did not bond with Orwen, though I loved her greatly. That was not our fate, and so I knew I had to let her go, though the happy years we had were few. And the crux of the matter, Greenleaf, is if I had not let Orwen go, then Keren would not have come into being."

The birdsong filled the silence as Legolas could not find the words to reply.

"And you, my friend," Haldir went on. "You talk of her unhappiness, but yours I fear will ultimately be the greater. Your doom is to sail West. When you take that journey you leave behind all memory of her and her world."

Legolas sighed. "Until she recognises our bond and chooses to accept it, it does not do good to dwell on the future, I know, but your words will haunt me. I do not have a choice before me, not like the half-elven. I must sail, and I wish to, though I will find no joy in it."

Haldir cleared his throat, and spoke of something that had been troubling him.

"Speaking of half-elven…" he began.

"There will, of course, be no children from our union," Legolas said. "And there this conversation must end."

Keren had climbed up onto the first big branch, where Legolas had sat in the darkness that night over a year ago. This time she had repeated the whispered greeting he had given to the tree, for her time in Lórien had taught her to give proper respect to the ancient beings that had stood for centuries and watched the land about them change.

The glade was very different by day - it seemed smaller, cosy, and far less mysterious. And the oak's leaves were now mostly orange, with only a few already fallen, meaning Keren was far more hidden than Legolas had been in late winter. She felt as if the tree welcomed and embraced her, shielding her from the wide world.

She felt a sudden, urgent desire to be home, although she could not say where that home was. Lórien felt almost as much a home as Minas Tirith. Home just meant happiness, and she had slowly realised she could make her own. If anything else happened to her, she knew she could face it and make the best of it now. She was fairly sure that the Keren who had sat here before all her journeying would not have recognised this one - although they shared the bare feet. And the elf. He was a constant amidst all the change. Somehow, as unlikely as it still seemed, she now could not imagine being parted from him again, although she knew he would not wish to remain in Minas Tirith for long. The forest or the sea would call him soon.

Turning her back on that thought, she smiled as she thought of seeing Palen again, and now, after everything she had learnt, her father too. She would make amends if she could, if it was not too late.

The night was cold and damp - Keren finally fell asleep to dream of the soft beds and warm fires within the walls of her city. When she awoke she was warm all down one side, for Legolas had covered her with his cloak and sat next to her so that she received his body heat. She would miss that alone from all these nights sleeping outdoors. Never again would they be so close, and she found the pull at her heart, and in her body, alarming. More and more she remembered times she had been alone with him, in Rohan, in Gondor, in Lórien, before she had even known what it was she was feeling. It had all been too closely linked to her heartbreak, at first, for her to be truthful with herself. Now… Her heart was threatening to take over, but she was fighting it with every fibre of her being. Only more heartache lay in her future if she followed this course. And yet she could not stop herself from watching him when he moved, his lithe grace and strength making all his movements look so easy and carefree, his face beautiful, slow to smile but dazzling when he did. It was almost painful to her, his perfection. How she could ever have thought that he would have kissed her… But she held that memory particularly close, just in case she had been right.

The sun had risen, and the day had finally come - by nightfall she would be home. No-one would be expecting her, and she had a sudden fear that she would not be made welcome at the houses, or in her father's house. Palen was her best bet, but if Elunis spoke true and Palen was with child…

"I will lodge within the King's house, or wherever he sends me," said Legolas out of nowhere. "I can always ask, if you have trouble, to see if you may also."

Keren was long past exclaiming when elves seemed to read her mind.

"Let's just see what the lie of the land is when I get there," she replied.

The boats were packed up, and they pushed off from the eastern bank for the final stretch along the great river. It was very fast flowing now, wide but deep, and she put all her trust into Legolas's boat craft and tried not to think about falling in this close to home. The elves barely had to paddle at all as the current bore them swiftly downstream, and with the sun still in the sky they had rounded the great bend of Anduin and reached the docks at Harlond, only an hour's brisk walk to the city. Osgiliath, which would have provided a quieter approach, had nevertheless been decided against, as they had no means of transport other than their feet, and the walk was many miles from there to the great gate.

"But what do we do with the boats?" Keren wondered as they climbed out of them for the last time, this time onto solid man-placed stone rather than a grass or pebble bank.

"Here one shall stay, to be put to good use by the right person," Haldir replied. "I only need one to travel north."

"Must you go just yet?" Keren asked, but received no reply. She felt a gentle hand go to take hers - Legolas, who could read her sadness and confusion - but it pulled away again as their fingers touched.

They climbed the slippery stone steps up from the harbour pool to the quay, where a nervous looking boy was waiting for them. It was his first day working on the quay, and some of his very first customers were elves - his father had not briefed him for this. He turned pale as they approached.

"Um, 'tis a tharni per small craft, per hour," he said automatically. Keren blinked at the sound of his voice. A city accent, speaking the common tongue. Her accent, her tongue. She beamed at him without realising, making him blush and smile shyly back at the strange girl who was friends with elves. But then her mind caught up with her and she looked at the elves in sudden panic - she had no money, and she did not imagine they would carry Gondorian currency. She hadn't even thought about it.

"We have travelled for many weeks," Haldir said smoothly in Westron, his accent sounding so strange to her ears once more, "from a land far beyond your reckoning, and as such we find ourselves short of coin. One of our boats we leave as a gift to the city, for we do not require it anymore. Whoever needs it can make use of it, and they will find it an exceptional craft. The other will only be moored for a few moments whilst I say farewell to my companions."

The boy turned his head towards the harbour office, where his father sat in a small hut keeping immaculate records.

"Um," he said.

He looked back at them.

"Well, I suppose… um." His bewildered gaze fixed on Keren, human to human.

"Such a boat would be very useful for yourself I'm sure," she said. "It's small enough to move around the harbour easily. I'm sure you'd find it a great help in maintaining order here. And it was crafted by the elves you know. You would be the only man for hundreds of miles with an elven boat." And she smiled for good measure.

"Well, miss, I - "

"Consider it our gift to you," she said, and walked straight past him up the quay. The elves hid a laugh to each other, and followed in her wake.

When they rounded the corner and were on the short street to the Rammas gate Keren burst out laughing.

"I can't believe I did that!" she shrieked. "That poor boy. I hope I haven't got him into trouble."

"Trouble?" Haldir said, smiling. "His father will finish his day's work and come out to discover his son now owns a boat worth more than all others in this dock put together. Either his pocket or his pride will see a great increase."

Keren was still chuckling - the thought of her acting so sure of herself even a year ago - it was impossible to imagine. Always she had been driven by her strong emotions, but never her confidence.

But as they walked the few short steps to the gate her emotions rose to the surface, for now the moment was come to part from Haldir, and she could not easily foresee a time when they would meet again. The street was busy, and she felt she was not able to say a proper farewell, not with all the people bustling around them. She had not imagined parting with him in a crowd, and it hurt.

"Haldir," she began, as they came to a halt in front of the gate. The two guards looked at them strangely, so they moved a little along the wall, out of earshot. "Haldir…"

She could not seem to get much further than his name. Legolas took over briefly, saying his own farewells, and then excusing himself to go and speak to the guards at the gate, leaving Keren and Haldir alone.

"I wish you nothing but joy," Haldir said simply, and the tears that Keren had been holding in burst forth, and she buried her head in his chest.

"Please don't go, not yet, not yet." She clung to him, the last piece of her elven-home. This last farewell of her travels was by far the hardest.

She was unaware of the people who were beginning to stare, forming a little crowd. Elves had been a more common sight in the city since the King had returned, but never had the people seen one holding a crying human girl who was dressed in elvish travelling clothes. Haldir was aware of this however, and switched to Sindarin so the bystanders could not gossip on what was said.

"I must." He spoke into her hair as his arms came around her. "I brought your mother to these walls twice, and each time went no further. I made a vow to not enter this city of men or its lands - it is not my world. I knew if I had entered with her I would not be able to leave, it would have been the step that I could not take back. So I hold true to my promise to myself. I would not inflict my presence on your father, Keren."

"Did - did my father know? Of you and mother?"

"I do not know. Perhaps, one day, that is a conversation you can have with him. But if he does know of my existence then I would not be welcome here, and I honour that."

"And so this is really goodbye?" Keren looked up at him, tears streaming. "Haldir, really, for ever?"

"Hush, let us not say forever," he replied. "For although where and when is not clear to me I feel we shall meet again, so let us take some comfort."

'I - I will miss you, more than I can - can say," she said, her breath unsteady from the heavy bout of crying. "I have said thank - thank you so many times, but there will never be enough times."

Haldir smiled, thinking back to the day when he had first seen her, peering around the Lady's shoulder on the edge of their land, thinking a wraith had been brought to him. But no, she had been flesh and blood, and had come to mean as much to him as a daughter would, as if - and he felt ashamed that he found himself wishing it - as if Orwen had born him a child after all.

"But you are not my child," he whispered, almost to himself, as he cupped her cheek with his hand, and then Keren knew the pain he also bore at this parting. "You are human, Keren, and here in this world of Men I must leave you, for now. Fare thee well. When a wind from the north blows over your high stone walls think of me and Lórien, think of all you have seen and done."

He bent to kiss the top of her head, his last words to her painfully close to those he had given to her mother, whom he had never seen again. The pain in his heart increased, and he turned back to the docks quickly, moving fast, and he was soon lost to Keren's sight among the crush of people that had now gathered.

She felt Legolas's hand on her shoulder, guiding her away from the crowd, for she could not see properly through her tears. He had informed the guardsmen that they were friends of the King, producing his Lórien brooch as tenuous evidence, which had looked impressive and expensive enough for them to believe him. So now they swept quickly under the gatehouse, and once they were through he reached out his hand to her. She took it, trying to blink her tears away, and as her vision cleared she looked up. The sun had started to set, disappearing behind the mountains, and there at the end of the range, tucked up into old Mindolluin's arms, was Minas Tirith, glowing in the pinkish light of day's-end. It was unchanged for the most part - still damaged by the war. There was the wooden barrier where the great gate had been, although it appeared that building work had begun around it. Some of the great outer walls were still damaged where huge rocks had been thrown from below and above. Keren shuddered at the memory of the sound of those black shadows flying in the air. But the White Tower still stood tall and strong, now bearing the standard of the King rather than the Steward's silver-white flag. The Steward. Where was he now?

Not here. Emyn Arnen. The Prince of Ithilien. Remember? Her memories came stuttering back. She shivered, thinking of that day she had been up there, atop the seventh level, and had seen Faramir for the first time. But Legolas's hand in hers was warm, and real, and solid - it stopped her from living in the past.

They walked the last two hours of their long journey from Lórien hand-in-hand, Legolas ignoring the gawping faces of people they passed in the Pelennor, Keren oblivious, thinking of Haldir, until they reached the end of the fields and were stood outside the gate of her city, at long last. This gate they passed through with no trouble, the guards smiling in delight at the sight of an elf, but giving Keren a curious look as she passed by. She looked like one of their people, but bore herself like the elf next to her, and was dressed all in elvish clothes.

Without her knowledge, word travelled faster than she did through the city, so by the time they had climbed up to the fourth level, far more people had found themselves needing to be by a doorway or window of their house, to see the strange Gondorian-elf-woman.

One of these people had seemed more interested than most, as she rushed across the street when her neighbour beckoned her over.

"What did she look like, the woman?" she asked old Derneth.

"Well, 'tis more a girl, what I have heard," Derneth replied, slightly confused by the anxious tone in which the question was asked. "Short and slight and young, and all dressed in elf clothes, with the handsomest of elves with her. Alwis here - " and she nodded to her younger friend who was hanging out of the window of the house next door - "said so beautiful was he she did not look at the girl until they were almost out of sight."

"Oh, I didn't even see her face, I came racing back home to get another look at him," Alwis said with a wink.

"That's assuming they're going up to the top," said Derneth.

"Well where else would folk like that be going?" Alwis laughed. "Not coming to call on us."

But Alwis was in for a shock. For just as she finished speaking the strange pair emerged around the corner and headed straight for the small house across the street, that their neighbour had just run out of. The elf and the girl halted outside briefly, the elf - who was indeed beautiful - seeming to encourage the girl, who looked nervous. She raised her hand to knock on the door.

"Wait a minute, I've seen that face before. Isn't that…" Derneth tailed off.

"My sister," said Palen.