*A/N* Now we get to hear Keira's story. Many thanks to my lovely Beta Creature of Shadow!

*Last Time* Gandalf watched her silently. Mithrandir was no fool, this woman was connected to all of this somehow, he needed to find out why she was pulled from wherever she hailed from to end up in the dungeons of Saruman the White. He frowned.

It was time to get some answers.

Keira looked around at them all, and Aragorn was struck by the lost expression that filled her eyes. Just as he felt lost within the sea of expectations, she seemed cut adrift in this place. Her mind was racing and she fought down the urge to panic.

Everything around her was utterly surreal and yet terribly familiar at once. 'Great.' she thought. 'I finally get whisked away from my hellish life and get thrown into another.' She was having a very hard time coming to grips with the evident fact that she was definitely not in Kansas anymore. Her mind had been focused on survival throughout the recent weeks. During her imprisonment, she had kept to herself, talking to the boy who shared her cell and ignoring the leering stares and lurid comments from her fellow prisoners and guards alike.

She did need to speak their language to know what their intention was. The only time she got any peace was when they slept, she would sing the child to sleep whenever she saw him drifting off and strangely the men had ceased their roaring and fighting. Keira sang her lullabies and the soldiers in the dungeon listened raptly, but always stopped short of asking for her to sing again.

Some sort of antiquated male ego thing she supposed. Truthfully the singing was the only thing that preserved her tenuous hold on reality and preserved her sanity just enough that she didn't go stark raving mad and beg the orcs for death. Something she was sure they would have obliged her gladly.

"I think." Gandalf's voice interrupted her inner monologue. "It is time we heard your tale my dear." She felt swallowed by his gaze. Legolas watched trepidation cross her face and shifted ever so slightly toward her as though he wanted to lend his strength.

"I…I don't know where to start." She supplied, hoping to buy herself a reprieve to think the timeline over herself before sharing it.

"Why not start with the beginning." There was a gentle smile in Gandalf's tone which helped put her at ease. "Where are you from?"

Keira took a deep breath and let it out heavily. Looking down at the pile of her things she reached out and slid tentative fingers over her clothing.

"I am from a place called England." she began.

"What sort of place is eng-land?" interrupted Pippin.

He and Merry had immediately drawn closer to her, intrigued by the prospect of a story they'd never heard. The two of them were sitting at her feet looking for all the world like two starry eyed children waiting to be swept off to a fantastical world in her tale.

She felt bad she would be taking them to such a terrible place.

"Well." she replied. "It is an island country far to the north. Once it was green and damp and beautiful." She paused and took a seat on a stool proffered by Legolas and wrapped her blanket tighter 'round her shoulders. Aragorn and Gimli had settled in with their pipes once more, content to listen to her tale they appreciated the brief reprieve from their own conflict and trials.

"England had a Queen and was a great power in the world, fighting off mighty armies and tyrants who threatened their freedom. The English once controlled much of the world, including my ancestors' home."

"What happened to it all?" asked Merry.

She smiled at him. "What happens to all empires eventually." Her smile faded. "It fell."

She saw understanding on Legolas' face and wondered how old he was. She knew elves were long lived, but all she had to go on were myths and legends from her childhood. Shaking off this train of thought for later, she continued.

"The modern England was a melting pot of cultures and races."

"So there were men and elves and…." Pippin's question died off into silence as she shook her head at him.

"No Pippin, there are no elves where I come from." His round eyes flicked form her to Legolas and back."There aren't any orcs or Hobbits either."

"Truly?" Aragorn sounded disturbed by this.

"What of Dwarves, young miss?" Keira furrowed her brow.

"There are some men who never grow taller then you are Gimli, but I do not think they are the same as your people." She paused trying to find a diplomatic way to say this. "Men call the small ones dwarves or midgets, but I don't think you would recognize them as your kin."

Gimli harrumphed and muttered something sounding suspiciously like 'imposters' before settling back again and puffing on his pipe.

"England is home to many different races of men." She went on. "The Englishmen are not so different in appearance from Aragorn. Darker hair, pale eyes and skin, although there are some who have hair the color of fire or gold. They tend to be from other outlying islands to the north and west."

Keira self consciously touched her shorn hair. "Then there are people like me from far to the south and east where the sun is fierce and hot. Our skin is usually brown like a nut."

"And your hair is like ink!" blurted Pippin. "I've never seen anyone as dark as you!" Merry's swift elbow caught him in the ribs "Ow! What was that for?"

"Real smooth Pipp." Merry hissed.

Keira laughed."It's fine; there are other races of men whose skin is nearly as dark as my hair." she replied smiling at their shocked expressions.

"You said this empire fell…" Gandalf's gentle prompt brought Keira back to her story.

"Yes." She replied. "But it was not just my country, but the whole world fell into darkness." Legolas watched shadows crowd themselves across her face and fill her eyes. "I was teaching class when the bombs fell."

"Bombs?" Legolas's single word inquiry reminded Keira that she had not seen any technology to speak of here.

"They're a small dense object that when dropped explode with the force of many, many fires." She winced inwardly at her simple explanation. "These weapons are terrible things we never should have created, but once we had them everyone made as many as they could afford." She was quiet for a moment.

"How many fell?" Aragorn asked thinking of the black powder that had almost proved to be their downfall during the battle for Helm's Deep.

She laughed; it was short and devoid of humor. "Enough to kill all men 10 times over." The loss in her words struck all of them.

"What sort of dark magic could do this?" wondered Legolas aloud.

"No magic." she replied darkly. "Just the arrogance of men."

How could she explain to them the desolation and death that came with the war. She realized she had made herself numb to it, in fact she had not considered the implications of the destruction.

"I was teaching when one of my fellow teachers came rushing into my classroom and told us all to hide under the desks." She swallowed. "We had known for weeks that war was brewing and had been drilled in emergency actions. We all dropped to the floor and took shelter. As soon as we did so the world exploded. "

"The windows burst, showering us with razor sharp glass and the roof collapsed as the walls crumbled. The only thing that kept me alive was my desk. It was a solid heavy thing, much thicker than the newer desks for the children." Keira stopped talking for a moment and cleared her throat. "When I was finally able to get out of the rubble I called for the children. Digging though the stone and metal wreckage I called for them till I could no longer shout, and then till I could no longer whisper."

"Did you find any of them?" Merry and Pippin's eyes were wide with horror.

"Yes I did." she replied, squeezing her hands into fists. "But it was too late for them. None survived."

The room was deathly silent. Keira struggled to keep her voice steady. "I'm not sure how long I sat there, holding the body of…" she paused, frowning. "Peter." she said finally. "Peter Goldswain." She breathed deeply. "I finally left him there when my hunger was too great to ignore anymore."

"I was lucky I suppose." she said. "My school was on the outskirts of a small city near London, our capital. The bombs were dropped on the city proper, we were on the edge of the damage. I visited my family first, the closer I got to their homes, the dimmer my hope became. All around me were charred ruins, everything was burned and dead, but what bothered me the most was the silence; it was like the earth just died. There was nothing left."

Her voice broke for a moment and Legolas felt his heart go out to her. He could not imagine such a terrible thing. He was suddenly aware that he admired her strength. He did not know how long ago this was, but her demeanor was not that of someone who had lost everything dear and precious to them.

"I found the bodies of my parents and my sister. Then I stopped looking. I wandered the city for several days, eating what I could find that had not been destroyed and drinking from what rivers and streams had not been boiled away by the blast."

"The streams were boiled away?" It was Gandalf this time. He had seen many things in his long life, but never a fire so fierce it boiled a stream into non existence.

Keira nodded mutely. "The water made me so very sick. I collapsed in the road and waited for death to take me. That's when I met Clive." Legolas felt something uncurl within his gut and lurch unexpectedly. "Clive found me and took me to his shelter where he nursed me back to health over many months."

"Once I was well again he told me it was time for me to earn my keep." She blushed. "I thought he meant to ravish me, but he merely took me out to the wastes to hunt." A dry chuckle rasped in her throat. "Once he realized I had never so much as held a gun, he began to teach me."

Their puzzled expressions perplexed her for a moment before she realized she had used the English word 'gun' having no translation in common tongue. She shifted on her stool and leaned out to the pile of her belongings. Keira fished out her rifle and held it across her lap so they could see it.

"This is a rifle." She said. "This gives me the ability to strike things from a long distance away very quickly. Clive showed me how to aim, steady my hand and breathing to fire straight and true. He also taught me how to defend myself a little with a knife."

As she spoke, an admiration crept into her tone. Clive had been her savior and a gentleman. He had spent his time before the bombs teaching rich people survival skills; he had been a special ops soldier many years before, and turned his expertise into a lucrative business. Clive had been almost ten years her senior, a large burly man with rusty colored curly hair and lively blue eyes. Once she realized he didn't expect her to be his woman, she had warmed up to him easily.

Clive had been raised in the rough and tumble streets of London's East End. His childhood had prepared him for his military service and for this new world they lived in better than anything else could have. He taught her many things, including lessons on the darker side of mens hearts. The more she learned about her savior, the more horrified she became.

As the trees died and the never ending cold descended upon the wasteland, slowly leeching the color from the world, Keira watched her connection to the only friend she had whither and perish quietly in the shadows.

There was a dark side to Clive that she hoped with all her might would never be turned on her. Seeing him butcher a nest of bandits simply for the enjoyment of inflicting pain made Keira's insides writhe. Clive terrified her, but she depended on him to survive so she said nothing, did nothing. What never ceased to amaze her was his ability to make her think he was normal again. He used to tell her she was the deadliest schoolteacher in the world, it always made her laugh and protest that she was no such thing. Each time she felt at ease, inevitably, Clive would unleash his brutality on another hapless target; Keira had known it was only a matter of time before she would bear the brunt of his irrational rage and she needed to be away from him before that happened.

"How long ago did this happen?" Aragorn this time.

"Almost six years." Keira gathered herself and slogged ahead to the more recent parts of the story. "Clive and I found the boy in some ruins a few days before I was taken. Poor kid was skin and bones when we found him, refused to speak to either of us."

The kid had actually derailed her departure plans. After many months of planning she had finally polished her plan enough to be confident of it's success.

"I had to beg Clive to take him with us." she said almost to herself. "He wanted to leave the child for the scavengers to take."

Legolas' lips parted in an unvoiced utterance of anger. Children were precious no matter their origins, to even think of leaving one to die if starvation was appalling to him. A quick glance around the room saw his feelings mirrored on the faces of all Keira's listeners.

"Why would he do such a thing?" cried Pippin in horror.

Keira looked at the hobbit with a gaze so filled with sadness, Legolas felt a tug in his gut. His stormy eyes watched her face move itself into a position that held less sorrow, but the anguish in her own verdant gaze shone forth.

"He believed the boy would die anyway and then we would have to bury him. He called it a waste of precious energy." Her voice was tight and controlled.

"But you were able to convince him otherwise?" Aragorn again.

"No." A small shake of her head. "I just picked him up and started walking. I told Clive I would do the extra hunting for food and he didn't have to worry himself over the child."

"And did that work?" Merry chimed in.

Keira shrugged, a short but graceful movement. "I don't know, the boy was only with us three days before those orcs came to take us." She noticed Gandalf move ever so slightly and realized that he desperately wanted to know what the other wizard had been up to. "I was outside our home returning from hunting, Clive had gone scouting to find a new location for us to stay. We moved every few months to avoid detection from the roaming packs."

"Packs of what?" asked Pippin.

"Ease up young hobbit!" Gimli grumbled again. "She can't get her tale out if you keep pestering her."

Keira shook her head gently and answered the question anyway.

"People." she said flatly. "There were packs of people who were tired of hunting for animals." She saw him open his mouth to ask.

"They were hunting other people." She said it without inflection and those words sent chills racing up their spines. Keira found herself the study of six pairs of incredulous eyes.

She shifted uncomfortably. "So yeah, the orcs appeared just as I was getting to my door, I had no chance to even fight back. I was bound and held while they went inside and grabbed anything that looked interesting, including the little boy. 'To persuade me to cooperate' the uruk captain said. We were taken to a place not far from there and waited for several hours before a portal was opened."

Mithrandir listened, if , even more intensely than he had been as yet.

"Once on this side, we were stripped of everything we had and I was hauled in front of Saruman." she shuddered minutely. "He was terrifying!" Her voice grew heavy and dark. "He asked me questions and when I refused to answer, he stole the information directly from my mind."

It was clear this had shaken her deeply. Legolas considered the effect this chain of events could have to the grip on one's sanity. He found himself amazed at her willpower and hardiness. By the valar, the woman still had enough spirit left to threaten Aragorn's life, he didn't want to know the horrors it would take to break her. Moreover, he had no desire to see her endure any more pain or suffering. He found himself surprised by this, and scoffed inwardly at his foolish thoughts.

"What did he ask you about?"

Keira looked over at Gandalf with a wry smile. "Nothing I should not have told him. Simple things like what year it was and what my home was called. He asked me about fighting and if I was a warrior. When he dove into my head, he saw everything I knew. I imagine he was looking for different types of soldiers and warriors to make the orc better."

Gandalf sat up a little straighter. "What makes you say that?"

"The men in the dungeon with me were from my world, but not my time, Gandalf." She waved her hand toward the piles of armor and weapons. "They spoke many different languages, but even the one who spoke English, he and I could barely understand each other because he was speaking a much earlier version of the same language."

"But how..."

Legolas' query was interrupted by Gandalf in a gruff voice. "I've almost deciphered Saruman's writings, won't be long now."

"Won't be long until what?" Her voice sounded thin in her own ears.

"Until I am able to get you back to your home where you belong. Your presence here is not natural."

"Oh." She felt a stab of regret. 'I suppose it was silly to think I could stay. I don't even know anything about this place.' She frowned, thinking hard. An image of Clive floated across her inner eye, scowling at her. Visions of a stained wasteland filled with death, of small dark holes in the ground to hide in crowded around and would not relent.

'Not that I have anything to stick around for anyway.' She thought of the terrifying orcs and urukai, the cries and screams of the dungeon. She found over the weeks that she would recognize the word for mother in almost any language. All but the most fierce of men had cried out for their mothers before the torture ended their lives.

Legolas' countenance came into her thoughts unbidden. His intensity and ancient eyes drew her like a moth to a flame. It frightened her. The immensity of her emotional reaction to him was a welcome sting, jarring her free of the dark contemplations of the evils both worlds shared.

The elven prince became subtly aware of the girl's eyes on him. Her gaze was fleeting and not repeated, but it seared him just the same. He could hear the reluctance in her to return to the place which spawned her tale of sorrow and struggle. 'She should not have to return to that horror.' he thought.

Almost as though he knew what they were thinking, Gandalf spoke first.

"I do think it's about suppertime." His eyes slid over to Merry and Pippin. "Don't you, young hobbits?" the troubled expressions on both their faces were wiped away at the mention of food.

"What's for supper?" Aragorns' gentle tone shook them from their silence.

"Oh we've got stewed coney and potatoes with a bit of salted pork and fresh apples on the side." Pippin said on his way out the door and down to the kitchens.

Keira allowed herself to be led from the room, but only after collecting what was left of her clothing and body armor. She had been safe thus far in the care of these people, but she knew from bitter experience that this world was harsh and dangerous. If the others kept their weapons and armor near at all times, she thought it only logical that she should follow suit.

When they reached the bottom floor she was immediately ambushed by the two hobbits, who settled her down with a plate of food and proceeded to ask her questions as fast as she could answer them. They wanted to know what her home was like before the war and if she had a sweetheart waiting for her. They peppered her with tidbits from their own home, a place called the Shire, which from all accounts sounded like Ireland. Keira allowed her mind to be distracted by their boisterous tales of mischief and accounts of their travels thus far.

Aragorn took this opportunity to speak with Legolas. He had noticed his friend watching the mysterious woman intently and was curious about what he saw.

"Melon-nin..."

Legolas looked at him, at once responding to his native tongue automatically.

"She is fascinating yes?"

The elven prince gazed hard at Aragorn for a short moment. "She is...strong."

The ranger heard a hint of sorrow in his friend's tone and wondered about it. The woman's tale had been a sad one bereft of hope, but the world she described was so fantastical he had a hard time identifying with it. Legolas' eyes returned to Keira as she kept up lively conversation with the hobbits. Their conversation would stop and start after new words were explained, and almost automatically she was giving them the translations for her own tongue.

'She carries such burdens, but still has time to laugh and teach others.' Legolas found himself again amazed at this woman's resilience. 'Such a shame she must return to her world, it sounds utterly wretched...' He let this train of thought trail off into nothingness. It would not do to become attached when her time with them would be so brief.

The moon hung low and light in the predawn sky. The air whispered to itself sweet nothings full of the promise of the coming day. Legolas stood silent and still upon the balustrade, savoring the final few moments of the night's watch. They had remained cloistered at Isengard for longer than they anticipated. Gandalf drew closer with each passing day to understanding and being able to open the door to Keira's home. The remains of the fellowship grew restless, and Keira spent most of her time tending to the child who had yet to awaken.

Aragorn feared for the boy's life and spoke with Legolas and Gandalf of returning for a time to Imladris, where the boy could benefit from Lord Elrond's expertise. Gandalf had disagreed immediately saying that if he did not unravel Saruman's writings soon they would need to leave for Rohan as soon as they were able.

All he would say was "Events are already in motion that we cannot ignore." before immersing himself again in his studies.

Legolas spent his time hunting in the wood and honing his archery skills. With each foray into Fangorn Forest, he further solidified his vow to return after the war and re-acquaint himself with the trees and their memories.

A small sound drew him from his musings. Looking over, he saw Keira's slight figure, lean and lithe in the moonlight. She stood with her back to him gazing out over the wood and mountains beyond. He stood and moved silently toward her. as he approached he deliberately made a soft sound with his foot alerting her to his presence. She did not respond.

"Keira."

Her head jerked a little and she replied without turning. "Legolas."

A small frown furrowed his brow and he stood next to her in silence and just waited. It was evident to him based on her taciturn response that something weighed heavily upon her mind. He looked down at the top of her head and lost himself for just a small moment in the play of the moonlight on her shining black tresses.

"I do not want to return." It was a bald statement, full of unspoken desperation. "There is nothing for me there," she continued, "nothing but more death." Her gaze wandered over the treetops and down to the river murmuring quietly to itself in the pre-dawn stillness.

Legolas sensed such despair from her in that moment he grasped her shoulder in an unconscious attempt to stop her from throwing herself off the parapet to her doom.

She read his intention clearly and laughed, a short brittle sound.

"I do not desire an end to my life Legolas." she said. "Merely a chance at a better one."

"Surely there must be something you miss about your home."

She jerked her shoulder from his grasp and stepped a small way apart from him. "I miss everything about my home, I miss my family, my friends, the trees of the wood and the song of the sea!" Her small frame shook, and he could not tell if it was from the passion of her words or the chill of the morning air. "I miss music and the feel of rain on my face...the laughter of children-" her speech cut off as though a door had slammed shut.

His heart went out to her as he recalled her account of digging children from the rubble.

"But I do not belong here..." her words came out so plaintive and small he felt his gut twist.

"Keira."

"No, don't Gandalf is right. I should not be here but I...I wish I could stay."

The elven prince found himself at once understanding the truth of her words but confused as to why she would wish to stay in a place where she had been so mistreated. "Keira, why do you want to stay so badly? What holds you here?"

She turned at this ad looked at him, the sky behind her a pale color heralding the coming dawn. Her expressive eyes spoke to him without words.

"You have an enemy here." she said. "You know where you must go and what you must do to defeat him without question." She breathed in slowly. "I wish I had an enemy to fight such as this."

Her eyes held him. Still and cautious, as though she might bolt if he moved too quickly, Legolas stepped toward her and met her gaze with an intensity that made her shiver. "You should not need to fight Keira." he whispered. "We cannot drag you into our war."

Her face fell and in the instant before she turned away from him he saw a bitter pain enter her eyes. "No I suppose you can't." she replied. She looked back at him again but the spell had been broken, and she smiled at him crookedly. The kind of smile that only existed to stop tears.

"Come." he said placing an arm around her shoulders. "Dawn has arrived and the hobbits will be making breakfast." She allowed him to guide her into the keep without comment. He respected her silence, and did nothing to try and coax her to speak. She had much to consider.

Upon entering the keep and arriving in the warm kitchen, they both settled into the hearty meal the hobbits had prepared. 'If there's one thing a hobbit can do better than any race, it's present a cozy home in the strangest of places.' Legolas thought with a smile.

He watched Keira from the corner of his eye and was glad to see that she had relaxed somewhat and was eating well. As they finished breakfast, Gandalf cleared his throat and looked at Keira. She straightened, much of the tension returning to her small frame. Silently, she waited for the wizard to speak. she was pretty sure she knew what he was going to say, and had spent the last few days preparing herself for this, mentally stamping down any hope that she could stay with ferocity and resolve.

"The time has come my dear." he spoke gently, but without preamble. "I have deciphered Saruman's writings and will be able to open the door to your home." She kept still for a few beats before replying, and when she spoke, Gandalf admired her control, knowing full well she did not want to return.

"Alright." she said. "Let me get my things."

"Oh, not quite yet my dear." Everyone at the table looked at him. He looked back at their confused stares with a small crooked smile. "Can't send her through if I don't know that it leads to her home, now can I?"

Keira felt the tension within come close to breaking. Gandalf seemed oblivious to his moment of unintentional cruelty and moved back to the stairs.

When it became evident no one was following he stopped and turned. "Well, come along."

They all sat for a short moment before the hobbits trotted from the room, curiosity brimming in their eyes. Keira stood without comment and walked from the room, leaving Legolas and Aragorn to trail in her wake. They all assembled in one of Saruman's imposing receiving rooms and waited for Gandalf to finish his preparations.

Keira unconsciously drew closer to where Legolas stood silently with Aragorn, and when she realized what she was doing, she moved with purpose to stand with them. Aragorn glanced over with mild interest and watched the way Legolas responded to the petite woman. She stood a little ahead of him, to his left and the elven prince automatically touched her lightly at the small of her back. A touch that she thought nothing of. She reciprocated his silent connection by moving even closer to her encouraging his hand to slide toward her waist on the far side where it rested comfortably as she leaned into his chest.

This struck Aragorn, as he had never before been privy to the elven prince displaying interest in a female of any race. He was always impeccably polite and held propriety at the forefront of his interactions. Displays of affection were rare among elves when not in private, which made Aragorn resolve to ask him about it later.

Gandalf stood once all the pieces were in place and looked at Keira with a sad smile. "I will need you to tell me if the place shown in the portal is your home. I must ensure I have the formula right and can repeat it before I will send you through."

Keira nodded and swallowed silently. Her green eyes watched him as he began some form of ritual. It was unlike any she'd even seen or heard of in movies, but oddly familiar never the less. Gandalf muttered several incantations under his breath and the air in the chamber suddenly began to swirl around them, catching Keira's newly shorn hair and leaving a net of stinging nettles across her face.

She shut her eyes for a moment in self defense.

A step, a shout and a thunderclap.

All sound and motion stopped abruptly and a brilliant light erupted from the center of Gandalf's work. A shimmering, pale yellow light spun to form a portal suspended several inches above the polished marble floor and Keira looked into it with wide eyes. In the center of the swirling light was the image of another place. A familiar place, to her dismay.

Legolas felt her tense up beside him and applied gentle pressure to her hip. He looked at the image floating before them, and was shocked to his very bones. She had told them of the destruction and the death, but this seemed too severe to be real. Before he was able to say anything, she moved. One hesitant step at a time she moved forward and he followed. Once Legolas moved, it was as though a spell had been broken, and the others drew near as well to get a better look at the world on the other side.

"Does this place look familiar my dear?"

His voice made her frown, looking intently at the image before her that wavered and rippled like water. She was looking desperately for anything that was incongruous with the hellish world she called home. Sadly, every detail was just how she remembered it. Colorless, desolate and terrifying. She nodded to the wizard and reached out to touch the surface of the image.

To her horror, before her skin made contact with the portal, the surface of the image reached out and caught her fingertips. Keira pulled back reflexively and succeeded in pulling her hand free with a jerk. A silvery liquid clung to her hand and a few drops were flung through the air, coming to rest upon the green of Legolas' jerkin. His eyes snapped down and she watched as he rubbed the liquid curiously with his own lithe fingers before looking back at her in confusion.

His stormy eyes settled on her hand and widened. She followed his gaze and let out a strangled sound. The shining substance was stretching and expanding. Sliding up her skin, it encased nearly all of her right arm and the other end was extending out from her fingertips through the air to rejoin with the surface of the portal. Keira felt her throat get tight and panic being to rise.

Tearing her eyes from the portal she was again struck by the emotion on Legolas' expressive face. The shimmering piece of the portal he had touched was expanding on his body was well, not just on his hand but across his torso and legs. They were both being pulled inexorably toward a world he knew nothing of, save it was bereft of hope, yet the look in his eyes was only for her. It was an expression of determination and camaraderie that strangely lifted her spirits and terrified her all at once.

Who was she to deserve such loyalty and support?

She could dimly hear the alarmed cries of the hobbits and Aragorn, and she saw Gandalf leafing through scraps of paper with great urgency. She didn't have her weapon, he only had his long knives. Her mind flashed the images of his bow and quiver leaning against the wall in the dining hall. They were about to be in a very bad situation, but she strangely wasn't afraid. He would be with her.

He saw a small ghost of a smile flit across her features before being replaced with a panicked light. The portal had a firm grip on both of them now and was pulling them through it relentlessly. The parts of his body that were encased instantly grew unbearably cold and drove the breath from his lungs.

She craned her neck and turned her head away, reaching out with her left hand for assistance. He reached for her, grabbed her hand and was aware of Gandalf shouting to the others not to touch them.

She looked at him, and as the liquid filled her mouth and covered her nose, their fingers interlaced and they were pulled through with violent force.

Legolas was not sure how long he lay there with his eyes shut. He had attempted to open them after feeling solid ground beneath him. The air smelled pungent and dry, and a strong metallic taste in his mouth told him he was bleeding. His first attempt to open his eyes presented him with a world that was spinning to rapidly, it was all he could do to not empty the contents of his stomach.

Keeping his eyes shut, he listened instead. He could hear Keira's harsh breathing not too far from him. She was moving around and he heard small stones underfoot and odd clanging sounds. There was a mild breeze stirring wayward strands of hair across his face. He swallowed hard and breathed deeply to still his roiling belly.

He became aware of a shadow over him and opened his eyes. Thanking the valar the world had ceased to spin, he squinted up at a familiar silhouette. Keira crouched next to him, perched upon some rubble. Her eyes were locked on the horizon, roving back and forth, her mouth set in a grim line, her body tense. Following her cues he checked his knives and stilled himself before stretching his senses to see.

The wasteland that met his eyes stole the breath from him. His mind rebelled and for a terse moment, refused to accept what he was seeing. Nothing moved. Nothing shone. No birdsong floated on the breeze, no bustling sound that should have accompanied a city as the one she described. Jagged bones of buildings jutted forth from the landscape like broken tombstones.

Legolas stared. His soul cried out, searching for trees or the spirits of nature. Nothing was left to answer his call. He felt carved out and hollow, his skin brittle and suddenly on the verge of shattering.

"Legolas."

Her voice came to his ears, quiet and urgent. He turned to look at her. Those beautiful eyes of hers gazed at him with such intensity he had no choice but to listen.

"We must not stay here." she said evenly. "It is not safe...the packs..." Her voice trailed off and she willed him to understand and follow her lead. She didn't know how they did things were he came from but she desperately hoped he would follow her and not cling to some antiquated male dominant custom.

'The packs?' he thought muzzily. 'Packs of what?'

He was hit with a flash of memory. She was telling her story and Merry had asked just that question. Her reply had shocked him speechless and did so again. 'People.' she had replied. 'They hunt other people.'

His mind began to rebel and it took all his self control to look at her again and reply. "Do you know where we are?"

He saw a flash of relief in her eyes and filed it away for later scrutiny.

"Yes I do." She scanned the horizon again. "I'll lead you, but you must follow my steps exactly. There are bombs in the ground sometimes that have not yet exploded."

His eyes widened and he looked around. He withdrew his long knives and made to hand her one, but was stopped by a shake of her head. She smiled at him in thanks, but gestured with a cylindrical piece of metal she held in her hand. Even though he had not seen a weapon quite like it before he could see the value of it's compact hefty weight.

It was suddenly crystal clear to the Prince of Mirkwood that he was in a wholly unfamiliar place and would have to reply on Keira to guide him. Taking in the hard alertness in her eyes and the ease with which she handled her improvised weapon, he didn't think that was such a terrible thing. She moved off silently through the rubble and he followed with care wondering what perils this world held for them.

A/N Till next time! Please review...it's motivates me!