Author's Note:

(( I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for their lovely reviews. :) It does mean a lot to me; this is my first real fanfiction from a 10+ year hiatus from writing and I was a bit worried about it.

From here on out I intend to update every two weeks. I will update more if time allows, but I will definitely update at that rate if anything.

I first intended to have my chapters alternate between the "real" world and Middle Earth but this chapter was just getting too long. I wanted to have my chapters be about the same length at a time.

Now without further ado, here's Chapter 4. I hope you enjoy! ^_^ ))

"Obstacles in your path should not be regarded as obstacles. They are simply features to the landscape, which have to be negotiated. It only becomes an obstacle if you let it negate your own intention and will."

- Ken McLeod

She awoke with heat on her face. Unlike the fiery inferno that had consumed her senses before, this heat was gentle, comforting. Kaz blinked slowly into the sunlight that filtered through the trees. A gust of wind rustled the foliage above, bringing leaf-shaped shadows to cascade over her face.

She stirred, sensing the rigidity of a tree trunk at her back. Her body ached as though she had slept against the aforementioned tree for hours. The soft sounds of nature chorused around her as her eyes swept the forest, assimilating a panoramic account of her surroundings.

Gnarled roots and rocks and smatterings of moss peppered the ground beneath her. The trees themselves were at about an arm and a half's length apart, thick trunks and staggering height indicative of their age. The bark of the trees was stained a dark mahogany and Kaz had flash of the staggering, rust-colored redwood trees on the west coast.

She closed her eyes once more, uttering a small groan. It didn't take a genius to determine her dream from last night had picked up right where it had left off. Despite the fact she had staggered into the forest in the dead of night, she recognized the feel of the bark under her shoulder blades. She even recognized a few of the snarls and roots she had tripped over gracelessly.

Kaz climbed to her feet, moaning at the kinks and aches that coursed through her body. The bottoms of her feet throbbed as she set her weight on them. She was so over the pain at this point—trudging through the snow and work all day had obliterated her patience. She would be damned if she had to put up with it in her dreams as well.

This is just a dream, Kaz thought, picking up one of her feet and glowing at her sole expectantly. It's not real. Heal, dammit.

And it did.

Kaz knew it would; she remembered how she had "healed" herself after bustling out of the burning building. Yet she could not help but stare in rapt fascination as the long gashes obediently began to knit themselves together. The thin scabs that had begun to form over the wounds peeled off and drifted, useless, to the forest floor.

The whole process took less than a couple of seconds, and Kaz shook off her wonder to shift her weight and inspect the opposite foot. Dried, sticky blood still clung to her skin but her feet were otherwise whole again, completely unmarred. She then stretched, testing her body. Kaz smiled as no protest arose from her once-sore muscles.

If only real life were like this, she mused.

It was at this moment she realized she was still wearing the clothes from "yesterday." She had distinctly remembered putting on a different hoodie and pair of sweatpants before going to bed. Instead of looking down at a pair of sweatpants she gazed instead at her black cargo pants. The pants themselves were smeared with ash and dirt and the bottoms had begun to fray. The hoodie was in no better shape; the elbows worn and smudged with soot from where she had crawled through the burning building. Filth stained the front of the jacket and the sleeves were slightly charred.

Kaz smiled to herself humorlessly. It was morbidly comical that she essentially did not have wound on her, despite the state of her attire. In her world-the real world-the person wearing these clothes would no doubt be in the hospital.

She had also remembered putting on socks. Kaz frowned down at her bare feet. Bits of moss poked up from between her toes. After the mishap with the gashes to her feet Kaz wasn't eager to take a stroll through the forest discalced.

This is just a dream, Kaz thought, zeroing in on her feet. She wiggled her toes with emphasis. Give me shoes, dammit.

Nothing happened. Kaz knitted her brows together in annoyance.

Shoes. Now. Sneakers. Boots. Flip-flops. Anything?

Nothing.

Please?

Still nothing.

Kaz vocalized an exasperated noise as her mind let loose a barrage of incensed expletives. Her feet just stared back at her, seeming to revel in their naked glory.

"Well, that's just great," she muttered. Apparently her omnipotent dream powers didn't extend to conjuring up a pair of shoes.

Kaz suddenly wondered if she was sleepwalking at this moment. She imagined herself in her bedroom, mimicking the same stance. Was she standing eerily on her bed? Or was she shuffling around her bedroom leaving pasty, alabaster footprints in her wake? If Kaz had half a mind she would turn around and plonk herself back down by her tree until she woke up again.

She wasn't going to do that, though. Apparently Kaz was a glutton for adventure, especially in the relatively secure confines of a dreamscape. Despite her rocky start, Kaz longed to explore this strange little world her imagination had concocted. Perhaps the sunshine had lulled her into a false sense of security. Perhaps her selective memory conveniently benumbed the terror she had experienced at the hands of the opaque creatures from before.

Whatever the case, Kaz lifted her head with bold resolve in an attempt to determine the direction from which she came. She figured she may as well head back to the town-or what was left of it, anyway. Kaz had remembered her fleeting view of the forest from her roost atop the roof. It had stretched on in rolling waves of greenery, the sheer incline suggesting a mountainous backdrop. Since hiking up a mountain didn't sound overly appealing, she decided she'd risk returning to the village from which she fled.

Kaz plodded carefully through the trees, ever conscious of her unshod feet. Though she had been fairly certain of her way back to the village the sight of a wooden structure as it swam into view was a relief.

The village was eerily silent; only the sounds of the forest could be heard. Kaz noticed a couple thick plumes of black smoke-evidence of the recent attack-marring the clear blue sky.

It was at that moment, then, when she realized that she had a problem.

A sturdy, wooden fence-about 12' tall-was erected around the entire village. It had been constructed with trunks of the forest trees strung together with broad, sturdy netting. The large logs ended in whetted points so that the barricade resembled a sort of massive, formidable picket fence.

Kaz hadn't noticed it last night because the roof she had jumped from was taller than and erected flush against the barrier; she had unknowingly vaulted completely over the fence in her haste to grab at a low-hanging branch. That must've been why the creatures hadn't immediately chased her into the forest; it would have created an inconvenient detour for them once they had… well… "finished" with her. Kaz squashed a shudder at the thought.

She looked to her left and right with a heavy sigh. The barrier extended down in both directions, stretching farther than the eye could see. If Kaz were to attempt to find the entrance on foot she'd have to walk a ways. Even then there was no telling what she'd find. The barrier was too tall to scale from her position on the ground, even with her parkour-toned body. The thought of leaping from a tree to or over the barrier made her nervous as well; her brain helpfully supplying a mental image of her being shish-kebab'd by one of those sharpened spikes.

Kaz gazed up at the fence with sudden purpose. She had almost forgotten… this was a dream. How many dreams had she had where she had the ability to fly? Walk through walls? Teleport? There was one time where she distinctly remembered throwing a tiger into outer space. Though she couldn't manage to conjure up a pair of shoes, jumping over a wall shouldn't be that hard, right? She could secure a hand and foothold between two of the wooden pylons to peer over the top.

Kaz backed up, cracking her neck and letting out a slow breath. It's a dream. She then charged the wall, foot over foot over foot and then leap. Her hands automatically flew out, scrabbling for purchase on the rough wood. Before her brain had caught up with the rest of her Kaz had all but wrapped herself around the top of one of the trunks, her nose level with the honed point of the log. I made it.

Heart thudding in her chest, Kaz tilted her head down from where she came and immediately wished she hadn't.

I'm very high up, she thought to herself in awe. I'm so so so very high up.

Kaz wasn't particularly fearful of heights-her parkour hobby would have come to a short end otherwise-but the distance she had just leapt was staggering, almost spooky. She hadn't even needed her feet on the wall to help propel her upwards.

She twisted her head to peer over the other side of the barrier. The village had been built on a slope so from her vantage point Kaz had a very clear perspective of the town-or what was left of it, anyway.

The village itself was not small, larger than she had realized at first blush. It was composed primarily of small houses and barns, about 200 from which she could count; the roofs clustered together into neat rows. A larger, wooden castle-esque structure could be seen to her left. It was the origin of a particularly thick plume of dark smoke that bellowed from its roof.

Upon catching sight of large, half-demolished wooden gate on the opposing end of the village Kaz then realized that she was in the very "back" of the town, perched at a point of the fence closest to the mountains. The destruction seemed the most rampant at the forefront of the village, nearer to the front gates. Many houses had been completely obliterated, reduced to blackened rubble. Lazy fires continued to burn in scattered areas. The air stank with the odor of charred flesh, blood, and burnt wood.

Despite town's size, there was not a single living creature in sight. Where there once may have been the distinct sounds of dogs barking, children laughing, and babies crying there was nothing. An eerie calm seemed to settle over the village in a haze.

Kaz looked down at the ground on the inside of the fence. She exhaled for a few moments, focusing on her breathing before she leapt from her perch, hitting the ground in sudden shock and rolling into a neat landing.

It struck her as she climbed to her feet; a wall of fetor that brought tears to her eyes and nearly knocked her back to the dirt. The reek had been tolerable upon the fence; her vantage point nearer to the sky. On the ground, however, the smell of burnt flesh and fire and death was near overpowering. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as Kaz pulled up the collar of her hoodie to cover her nose and mouth. The interior of her hoodie smelled like nature and her deodorant and was far more tolerable.

In addition to the stench, the utter devastation was more severe at close range. Deceased cattle lie close to her, torsos pried open by slashing claws and their contents spilled over the stained cobblestones. Kaz saw a woman not a few yards away; only the top-most part of her was visible. The woman lay face down on the cobblestones in a pool of dried blood, her lower half crushed by a fallen canopy. A swaddled, deceased baby lay before her, face wrenched open in a permanent scream of terror.

Kaz felt the bile begin to rise in her throat. The courage she had felt before scaling the wall quickly began to wane. Not for the first time, Kaz was horrified at her own subconscious. How could she dream such things?

She staggered to one side, falling to the ground and gagging. Her dry heaving intensified as she moved her hoodie away from her face and unwittingly breathed in the stench of death. There were no contents in her stomach; Kaz merely spat and shuddered as her stomach clenched painfully.

After a tense couple of minutes Kaz finally climbed to her feet, wiping her mouth with one sleeve and repositioning the hoodie's collar over her face. She wanted nothing more than to retreat back across the wall and into the forest, running as fast as her bare foot could carry her. Yet she was determined to see this through. With valor that seemed almost uncharacteristic, Kaz ventured onward.

She attempted to focus solely on her feet-the simple act of placing one in front of the other. Yet her eyes betrayed her, snapping up to regard each corpse she passed. The sight was petrifying, yet she found she could not look away, mesmerized by the sight of death. Her thoughts flicked to how people would gawk while driving past car accidents. The comparison made her shiver involuntarily.

As Kaz pushed onwards her surroundings became more familiar. She recognized the spot where she had nearly been skewered the night before. Her bare feet slapped against the ground as she maneuvered around the deep stains embedded in the cobblestones. Dark crimson mingled with deep obsidian. Kaz wondered fleetingly if the blood of the creatures had been black.

As Kaz descended the same hill she had dashed up the night before the view of the stone square swam into view. That was when she saw them. Her heart caught in her throat as she froze, panic coursing through her body. She made to run when eyes caught her own. Human eyes. The tension eased from her, yet only slightly.

A small group clustered in the center of the stone plaza. They all appeared decidedly human; Kaz counted four men, two women, and two children from their size and apparel alone. However it was difficult to tell from war-borne appearance. Faces and arms were smeared with blood and muck.

Upon catching sight of Kaz, the man who had seen her immediately raised a discolored sword and barked a warning. The effect was instantaneous; the women stepped in front of the children protectively. The men swarmed around them and raised their respective weapons. Kaz was reminded of how animals formed a circle to protect their young from predators. She had seen it on Animal Planet while babysitting Marcus once; she remembered how the adult musk oxen formed a circle around their young, their sharp horns protruding outwards. Kaz stared at the cluster of pointy swords waving in her direction. The comparison was eerily similar.

"Who are you?" the front most man demanded. His voice was strong and made to be intimidating, yet Kaz could perceive the weariness in his voice.

She was sure she made for a peculiar sight for the lot of them. Kaz was just as smudged and disheveled as the others, yet the type of her clothing stood in stark contrast. As the women wore modest dresses and aprons Kaz wore a navy blue hoodie with dark cargo pants. As the women wore bonnets and braids in their long hair Kaz's lopped-off locks were hidden under a dark beanie. As the group was outfitted in soft leather boots her feet were dirty and bare.

"Ka-er… Klara," she answered warily, raising her hands, palms unclenched, in a position she hoped was nonthreatening. At the removal of her hands Kaz's hoodie-mask slipped below her nose and she tried holding her breath to buffet the smell.

Kaz wasn't sure what prompted her to answer with her given name. Perhaps she felt as though her nickname would be a bit too much atop her strange appearance. Kaz wondered when she began to feel sympathy for the players in her own dream.

"You are a woman?" the man replied, surprise evident in his voice. Kaz experienced a flash of annoyance. It was not the first-nor will it be the last-time she had been mistaken for a boy. However it stung each and every time.

"Aldrich, stop. She is just a child," one of the woman pleaded from behind him. Kaz's gaze drifted to her, catching a glance of her face from between the shoulders of two men. Her voice had been feminine, but from beneath the dirt and grime that marred her visage Kaz could scarcely make out that she was a woman as well.

"Look at her clothing, Palma," the man argued, his eyes raking over Kaz's slight frame. "Look at her feet. Where are her shoes? She is strange creature. She does not hail from Upbourn."

Upbourn? Is that what this place is called?

"-she may be a spy of the east, sent in the skin of a child to deceive us."

It was at that moment Kaz recognized one of the men in the group. Above all else she recognized his eyes as he stared at her. She recognized his bow; his muscles were taut as he drew back an arrow.

"Thank you," Kaz blurted, fixating on him. The man faltered, surprised to be spoken to. "Thank you for saving me last night."

Aldrich's head swiveled to look between the two of them.

"Allard?" Aldrich asked. "How do you know this child?"

Allard eyed her for a moment, recognition dawning in his eyes.

"A Uruk-hai meant to run her through with its sword," Allard answered carefully, his eyes trained on Kaz. "I intervened."

"Are you certain?" Aldrich pressed. "She did not maintain league with the beast?"

"It was no ploy," Allard answered softly, certain. "Though she was a distance away, her fear was real. The Uruk-hai's intent was real."

Aldrich's gaze turned back to regard her. Though the other man's answer seemed to diminish a bit of his anxiety Aldrich didn't seem wholly convinced.

"Then explain yourself, child. You are not of Upbourn; from where do you hail?"

The whole exchange seemed so surreal it took Kaz a few heartbeats to realize that the man was expecting an answer from her.

"C-Chicago," she responded, tripping over her words. The looks on the men's faces did not dawn in recognition as Kaz had expected. In fact, their grips on their weapons tightened.

"Shi-cah-go," Aldrich replied, sounding out the syllables as though they were foreign on his tongue. They very well may have been; it was obvious that her dreamscape reflected nothing of modern geography.

"In Illinois," Kaz offered, realizing then how stupid that was. If they didn't know what Chicago was then they certainly did not know Illinois. "It's um… far away."

Aldrich's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "From the east?"

The cogs and gears in her mind spun. Didn't he just accuse her from being a spy from the east?

"From the west," she immediately replied, eyes glued to the glistening tip of Allard's arrow. Though she was sure she was dreaming Kaz knew that being punctured by that thing would still hurt. A lot.

Now Aldrich appeared confused. "The west? How far west do you speak of?"

"Really far. Really west," Kaz said automatically. She knew she wasn't making a very convincing argument; the threat of being speared by pointy things succeeded in chasing all instances of higher thought from her mind. All she could hope was that Aldrich hadn't been very far west.

"Farther than the town of Bree? Farther than the lands of the little folk?"

"Yes," she replied, nodding her head. She wondered at the "little folk" Aldrich spoke of, but decided not to press it. It wouldn't help her cause. "Farther than that. Across the ocean, even."

Kaz had really no idea if there was an ocean, but she figured there'd be one the farther west you go. You're bound to run into one eventually, right? World being round and all that. Well, real world. It'd be just her luck if her dream world was flat.

"Ocean?" Aldrich parroted, furrowing his brows in confusion.

Aw, shit. Maybe she was wrong; maybe this world didn't have oceans. If anything, though, Kaz was stubborn. She persisted with her story.

"Um… big body of water? Sand and waves?" she offered hopefully.

"You're from across the Great Sea?" Aldrich questioned. The suspicion leapt back into his voice so thick Kaz was certain she could cut it with a knife.

Ah, so they have a sea, not an ocean.

"Yes," Kaz answered, his suspicion forcing her mind to catch up with her mouth and tread carefully. Self-preservation at its finest. She had the distinct impression that if she were to say something wrong in the next few breaths Kaz would have an arrow neatly protruding from her chest.

"I come from an island on the sea, Illinois," she continued hesitantly. "My family sailed here for… new opportunities."

"That doesn't explain why you're in Upbourn," Aldrich stated after a brief hesitation. "The closest western shore is 250 miles from here."

Shit.

"We were looking for somewhere to stay… we got lost," Kaz finished lamely. She tensed, fully expecting to be riddled with sharp pointy objects at any moment.

The group, however, was oddly silent for a moment as they mulled over her words.

"Her family may have been looking for Rohan," Allard supplied helpfully. "They may have bypassed the city by mistake and followed the river Snowbourn to Harrowdale. It would not be the first time."

Kaz sent out a huge wave of mental thanks in Allard's direction. Though the names he supplied sounded like gibberish to her it seemed as though Allard was unknowingly supporting her lie. A huge, relieved grin threatened to break open her face but she squashed it immediately. It would be rather embarrassing for her emotions to betray her at this point.

"Where is your family now, child?"

Sorry Dad, she thought as she spoke. "They're dead… the beasts…" Kaz gestured around at the bodies strewn around her, plastering a dejected look on her face. She felt immensely guilty about killing off her fake family. Her guilt intensified as Aldrich's expression immediately softened, empathy apparent in his eyes.

"They were slain by orcs," he answered quietly, so quietly Kaz had to strain to hear him.

"Orcs?" she questioned before she could stop herself. Aldrich, however, just nodded. He had lowered his weapon at this point, to Kaz's immense relief. Allard and the three other men followed suit, one by one.

"You do not have orcs that far west. They are horrendous creatures as you can see," Aldrich gestured at Kaz with his free hand, the one not occupied with his sword. "Come hither, child."

Hesitant, but not seeing any other choice Kaz padded down to the small group. Though many of the men continued to eye her in distrust, they begrudgingly parted to reveal the additional members of their party. The woman who had spoken earlier, Palma, met her gaze and smiled. Kaz found herself smiling back in response.

Aldrich asked if she was hurt and Kaz shook her head, remembering how she had healed herself after her encounter with the burning building and jagged roofs. He seemed stunned at this-after all, the state of her clothing suggested otherwise-but didn't press the matter, instead venturing over to speak with the small group of men. It seemed as though she had been automatically shuffled over with the women and children. Kaz didn't mind; Palma and the others were far less intimidating than the bristly men with pointy weapons.

A dirty child's face peeked out from behind the other woman's skirts and peered up at her in curiosity. The boy could not have been older than five years of age. A girl stood by his side, staring at her. She seemed to be about thirteen yet she stood nearly as tall as Kaz. The familial similarity between the two was staggering-each had round faces, deep brown eyes and wavy russet locks.

"Klara," Palma said her name slowly, as though testing it out. Kaz wondered absently how well "Kaz" would have been received. "My name is Palma," she gestured towards the boy, who was still staring at her "this is Tranter," she then gestured to the girl, "and this is Juliet. And this…" Palma nodded towards the other young woman in the group, whose skirts Tranter still clutched at, "…is Clothilde. She is Tranter's mother. Juliet is Tranter's cousin, Clothilde's niece."

Kaz nodded as she absorbed this information. She had been afraid she'd never remember all of these peculiar names, but their strangeness actually helped stick them in her memory. She then wondered how Palma fit into this strange, little family yet her question was answered as Palma continued.

"I am Aldrich's wife."

Makes sense, Kaz thought. Palma had seemed awfully familiar with the latter as she told him to stand down earlier.

"That is Allard, whom you seem to already have met. Allard is Aldrich's younger brother. The other men are Rhett and Warden, they are farmers here. There is another, Tompkin. He is scouting the village."

A familiar guilt nagged at Kaz as Palma relayed this information to her. Aldrich and the men seemed wary of Kaz but appeared to accept her fabricated story. Perhaps to them, the alternative was far more morbid for their weary minds to bear facing. Or perhaps a young, skinny girl just didn't pose much threat.

Palma, however, seemed to trust her implicitly. It was obvious the woman had been prepared to accept her without question, even before she had fumbled through her origin story. An honest person by nature, the series of lies Kaz had uttered niggled at her psyche.

She felt remorseful for lying to a figment of her imagination. Imagine that.

"I know you," a voice said suddenly. It was scratchy with disuse and meek with ingrained shyness. Kaz looked up to meet the gaze of Clothilde. As recognition dawned in the other's eyes Kaz nearly gulped. Was this the point of her dream where the characters turned against her? Had she been caught?

"You rescued my children," she continued, "I looked out of the window when I heard shouting and saw you leading away the beasts." Clothilde smiled bashfully, lowering her gaze from Kaz's own. "You saved my child and Juliet, thank you."

Those were the children whose screams I heard, Kaz thought with sudden realization. She looked down at Tranter and Juliet, an unknown emotion fluttering in her breast. She knew that the two children weren't real-she knew that-and yet she couldn't stop the wide grin from spreading across her face and relief and delight coursed through her. The children had survived; she was looking right at them.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Kaz gushed, looking at each of them. Tranter, as shy as his mother, ducked behind Clothilde's skirts at the sudden attention. Juliet had a small smile on her face. "When I heard the screams I just… I'm just so glad you're alright."

It was at that moment when another man arrived on the scene. Aldrich and the other men did not react as they did with Kaz, so she figured this must be Tompkin. Tompkin regarded her curiously before his attention focused on Aldrich.

"There is no one left alive in the village," he reported. "The mayor's head is on a pike outside his house. The horses and cattle have all been slaughtered. The orcs left nothing."

The group seemed to visibly deflate at the news. Kaz felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up into Palma's sympathetic face. It was then Kaz realized her "family" was supposed to be dead at orc hands. She steeled her expression into one of sorrow, covering Palma's comforting hand with her own. Guilt ate at her.

"We must venture to Edoras on foot," Aldrich said decidedly. "We must bring them the news that orcs have come down from the White Mountains. We must tell of Upbourn's fall."

Suddenly Aldrich's full attention was on her once more and Kaz floundered.

"Klara of Chicago, what is your intention thus far? Do you intend to travel with us to Rohan?"

"Um…" Kaz replied, ever-so-eloquent. Palma, however, rescued her from having to come up with a reply. The grip on her shoulder tightened.

"Of course she is coming with us," Palma snapped. Kaz could feel the latter issue Aldrich a withering look over her head. Aldrich balked. Though Aldrich had assumed leadership over this little group, it was apparent that Palma wore the pants, so to speak, in their marriage. Kaz hid a smile at the information.

Aldrich recovered quickly. "Well then, it is a day and a half walk to Edoras. We will follow the banks of the river Snowbourn. It will be wise for Klara to find some suitable shoes. Palma, see to it that the women find weapons. We need to be prepared; the orcs are still out there. We will leave within the hour."

And then Aldrich turned to consult with the other men. Palma looked at Kaz, issuing her a reassuring smile.

"Off you go then, we can't have you frolicking through Harrowdale without shoes," she said, giving Kaz a gentle push, "Hurry, though. Those beasts may be back and we must make haste."

"Where am I going to find shoes, though?" Kaz asked incredulously.

Palma looked pointedly at the carcasses littering the square.

Oh.