One must remember that young elves are eager to teach any new thing they have learned.  In fact, they were so willing that the unsuspecting ran the risk of being taught, whether they wanted or not.  In Keren the elves found an able, if somewhat overwhelmed, pupil.  They did take to heart Lurisa's caution against overworking their poor defenseless mortal charge however, and held class for her only during the day, leaving her at peace in the evening.  This arrangement suited them for it left them free to make merry in the forest throughout the night.  During these tutoring sessions, Thistledown explained that they used Westron translations of names they had chosen for themselves.  When Keren learned to speak elvish more fluently they would teacher her their true, elvish names, and may give her one as well. 

    In appearance Thistledown and her companions seemed no older than Keren, who had passed her 25th birthday not long before learning of her intended marriage.  But they counted their age in centuries, not years, and remembered watching their fathers, uncles and elder brothers march or ride off to join the Last Alliance which ended the Second Age and began the Third, and from which so few ever returned. 

    Thistledown had dark hair, blue-grey eyes and preferred the color blue.  Safronela had hair the color of autumn leaves at their most brilliant hues of red and gold and she wore green.  Other maidens were Daisy, golden haired and clad in yellow, Iris whose hair was black and wore violet, Rosebud with flaxen hair and as her name might suggest preferred any color in which a rose might appear and had a gown for each day.  And finally, Dandelion, who, like the flower for which she was named, had golden hair and wore green.

    Much to their consternation Keren put aside the rich gown they gave her and wore her old clothes except when in presence of the lord and lady.  She wore an ankle length skirt, simple blouse and jacket with her brother's leather boots which she had worn on her journey and found to be very comfortable.  These garments were showing signs of wear which the elf maidens would not abide so they made others like them using fabric spun and woven on their own spinning wheels and looms. 

    The first course of instruction the elves chose for Keren was their elven language.  In private moments her mother had sung to her in a similar tongue so already she had received a good foundation, but could not, as of yet, read Elven script.  After a week of twelve hour days, they brought out their scrolls and books and instructed her in poetry, medicine, care of many types of plants, history of the elves and their allies, and also of their enemies.  Keren had never seen a goblin or troll except in a drawing, though she certainly had heard of them and all the mischief they had wrought in times past.  Some elves doubted they still inhabited their old haunts, while others feared they might return or had never left but gone farther underground.

    The young elves taught her many songs and would have instructed her in a few enchantments but Lurisa forbade them, saying such things were too powerful for a mortal to control, wise though the mortal may be.  Keren did not wish to become what her mother called a sorceress, a mortal woman who used enchantments to manipulate others, and gladly passed up those lessons.

    Occasionally her tutors were called away to serve the lady before completing the lesson so at those times Keren read selections set aside for her in the archives. One such day, nearly a month after her arrival, Keren was in the archives at a table struggling with a particularly difficult passage from The Noldolantë.  Not that she could not pronounce the words but that there were so many new to her which she could not find in her study books.  At last she sighed, head in hand, dropping her arm across the book.  She lifted her eyes to gaze out the window at a glorious sunny autumn day.  Feeling the need to move about, she stood and turned to the door where, much to her surprise, Starfoot had just entered.  She blushed at his good humored smile.

    "You struggle with one of the works of Maglor, I see."

    "That is so, my lord.  How did you know...?"

    "Because I myself struggled with him, and he was my mentor.  No surprise is it to me if others also find his works difficult.  Least of all a mortal maiden.  May I assist you?"

    "Oh yes!  Please!  I would greatly enjoy..." she began, then stopped, embarrassed.  "That is, if it troubles you not."

    "You cannot trouble me," laughed Starfoot, "because I was looking for this very book."

    He pulled up a chair and explained the words' meanings which Keren did not know and watched as she added them to her list of new words with quill and ink.  He was about to expound on the last verse when Thistledown's voice interrupted.

    "Holly Starfoot!  Have you usurped my pupil?"

    He laughed and said "More than mere minstrel would it take to usurp any upon whom you lay claim."

    "Nonsense, 'mere minstrel.'  I was called away on an errand for the lady and was gone only a moment.  It would not surprise me to find you had waited at the door and sprang in as soon as I departed."

    "I beg to differ.  Look at what your pupil has accomplished in your absence before I 'sprang in.'"  He handed the word list to her, which she perused and set aside.

    "You have done enough poetry and history for two days.  All in one morning.  You need recreation," said Thistledown as she bustled about, replacing books and scrolls.

    "Ah ah, not that one.  The only reason I tarried here was the book I sought was in use," said Starfoot as he snatched the volume before Thistledown could grasp it.

    "A likely story," said she, and ushered Keren from the room.

    Again, Starfoot laughed and continued studying the passage with which Keren had struggled.  Maglor was known as one of the greatest poets and singers, until he disappeared, but those events were long ago and far away as mortals count time and distance.  Starfoot in his mind relived a meeting with his former mentor, at the same time musing upon the capricious nature of women, of any race.

"You must not allow the fellows to be so friendly," said Thistledown to her charge as she lead her out into a glade near the dwelling.

    Keren was taken aback by this and looked questioningly at her tutor, who in her turn gazed back in wonder.

    "You truly do not know of what I speak," Thistledown said at last.

    "But I do," stated Keren emphatically.  "It just causes me to wonder that you are so concerned.  I know well the misfortunate consequences of a union between mortal maid and elf, for my mother instructed me to beware that I not bestow my heart on one who would do ill to accept it, though at the time I thought her sayings merely fancies.  What could an undying elf see in a frail, mortal woman?  Perhaps you see more in Starfoot's attention than I do, but I assure you, he has not presumed upon my assumed innocence."

    Now it was Thistledown's turn to step back.  "Assumed innocence?  Why do you say such things."

    "I was five times betrothed and have aided my sisters-in-law when their time to give birth came.  Though I am yet a maid, I am not ignorant, or as innocent as some may think."

    "Of what 'misfortunate consequences' do you speak?"

    "It is simple animal husbandry applied to speaking beings.  My mother spoke of mules.  A mare bred to a donkey produces a mule which has the strength of a horse and the endurance of a donkey.  But a jenny bred to a stallion produces a hinny, an animal which is both weak and foolish.  Is it not true that mortal women paired with elven men produce offspring having the fiery spirit of elven kind but lacking their wisdom, the willfulness of mortal man but not the self control?"

    "Your mother taught you well," said Thistledown.  "Would that I also had known her.  But one more possibility there is which you mentioned not but no doubt was known to your wise mother.  Should mortal woman's child be more elf than mortal, she would likely expire in the birthing.  Mentioned she this possibility?"

    "She did and were I assured of such a child I would gladly give up my life to produce one.  But that is so unsure I should not risk the other possibilities."

    "Would that more mothers were as careful in their instruction of their daughters as was yours," murmured Thistledown.

    The two friends, tutor and pupil, wandered about for several hours in conversation, for Thistledown also wanted to show Keren the boundaries of the elven realm of Dor Luin, which nestled in the foot of the Blue Mountains.  They climbed a high foot hill, and Thistledown pointed out land marks Keren could identify.  A ring of tall cedar trees circled the realm, marking the boundary past which none could go without leave of the elves.  It was just outside this ring Keren had encountered Lurisa and her ladies in waiting, as they waited for her.

    The elf maiden was eager to be out and about for the day had yet to pass into twilight when she would join her friends at the edge of the woods to make merry, as elves will do at every chance.  She lead Keren on a merry run through the trees down the hill.  They bounded, laughing and squealing over rocks and tree roots. Keren feared she would fall but Thistledown and her friends had often run this way so she knew every step and did not falter.  They were soon threading the cedars and had collected a number of other elves as well.  Daisy teased Keren about the noise her boots made and Rosebud laughed at her short, ankle length skirt, autumn colored hues and lack of ornamentation.  Safronela said she thought Keren's manner of dress suited her well and the others were showing their lack of knowledge about mortals.  Jack and Sam agreed and suggested they visit a few towns near the river to hear the noise of other footsteps with which to compare Keren's before they judged too quickly.

    They cavorted and danced well beyond the fir trees and were approaching the old road when suddenly all froze and stood listening.  Keren had not the senses of the elves, but even she could hear the noise which had stopped her companions in their tracks.  It was a shuffling of many hard-soled feet, all passing on the other side of the road.  A whisper spread from one elf to the next.  A single word: goblins.

    Thistledown took Keren by the arm and said "Fly!  Back to the trees!  The trees of guard!  Fly!" but at that moment a goblin shambled into the clearing, saw the elves and let out such a hideous shouting growl that if Keren had not been held fast by her tutor, she would have fled screaming in any direction and in her terror become lost.  In all fairness, hers was not the only voice which cried out.  Other goblins appeared and at the sight of them, the elves turned and fled but found themselves cut off from sanctuary.  Having no time to work their enchantments, they dashed about saying powerful words as they went but to little avail for they only held off and did not defeat the goblins who gnashed at them with their teeth threatening unspeakable things and mocking the elves fear.  One fearsome goblin lunged forward and caught hold of Iris skirt.  Keren, hearing her friend's scream, was jarred back to her senses and remembered the knife hidden in the shaft of her boot.  She snatched it out in a flash and struck the arm of the goblin.  He shrieked in pain and anger and turned on her, his own knife at the ready. He feigned once, twice, a third time.  She saw he was trying to separate her from the others and in one bold lunge toward him she drove her knife upward into his chest, jerking it away and jumping aside.  The other goblins were in a fury at this loss to a mere woman.  The maidens had all they could do just to prevent the goblins from moving any closer and Jack and Sam were busy with knife work of their own.  The armed elves and Keren formed a triangle with the others in the center, slowly inching their way to the trees of guard.  Keren was sure all was lost but at last they reached the cedar trees and what would soon be safety.  The enchantment about the trees would not kill the goblins but would send an alarm bringing other elves to the defense.  Few goblins could bear the force of such a barrier, however formidable some may be.  These followed Keren and Thistledown, who were the rear guard and in turns lunged at them, only to receive a gouge here, a slash there from Keren's knife.  She herself was plenty scratched and bruised but stood firm, finding these real goblins far more frightening than the imagined ones she and her brothers had fought, once upon a time.  Keren heard the words of Thistledown's enchantment and was heartened even more to hear encouragement and praise for valor.

    Suddenly a goblin sprang around Keren and struck Thistledown so that she fainted.  Keren, hardly aware of what she did, plunged her knife to the hilt between the goblin's rib.  He turned on her with a fury which jerked the knife from her hands and sent her stumbling against a tree.  The goblin limped toward her, growling horrible sounding words and noises and reached a clawed hand to her face.  Keren closed her eyes, screaming and kicking at him with all her might.  A noise cut the air, sort of a "whoooooooosh-thummmm!"  When Keren opened her eyes, she saw the lifeless glazed eyes of the goblin still staring at her with an arrow through his throat.  She pushed him away with her foot and he fell on his side.  Elven archers had arrived. Among them came the chief captain, Neldoras.  In his hand he wielded the sword which had been at Morfindel’s feet.  Now it glowed with blue fire, flashing brightly each time it struck a goblin.

    Keren ran to Thistledown and helped her to her feet.

    "You fool of a mortal!" came a shout from an elvish archer.  "Why put you yourself in such danger!?"

    She turned on him.  "And what would you have me do?!  Stand still, wailing like an infant while these monsters snatched away my friends in front of my own eyes?!"

    "A woman's place is to seek the protection of..."

    "And what if there is no protector?!  My brothers never taught me to be so helpless!!" she shouted and found herself face to face with Holly Starfoot, for in her anger she had not recognized his voice and his face was changed from his usual good humored expression into a stern, cold visage she liked not at all.  If a goblin is a fearsome creature, an elf in his wrath is terrible indeed.  But this look quickly changed.

    "My apologies.  There was no fault in your actions but in my harsh words.  I was afraid for you.  Tend to your companions," said he and with a word to his horse they sprang away, following the goblins, rejoining the chase.

    Keren nodded, pulled her knife from the back of the goblin, wiped the blood on the grass and returned it to its hidden sheath.  She then joined her friends tending Thistledown and Iris. 

    “How did they know where we were?” she asked, feeling dazed and unsure of her feet.

    “The trees of guard speak to each other,” responded Thistledown in a tired voice, ever the tutor.  “They send news to us, and others who inhabit Dor Luin.  And the sword on the dais glows...”

    “Be still,” Sam told her gently, taking her hand in his.

    When Keren knew that she could do nothing to help her tutor and friend, she slowly began to circle about, looking at each goblin, wanting to ensure they were dead.  "What do you do with dead goblins?" she asked.

    "Burn them, of course," said Jack, not even looking at her.  He was too concerned about Iris to answer questions of an unlearned mortal and Thistledown was in no condition to speak.

    Keren nodded, took a pair of gloves from pockets in her jacket and asked, "Where?"

    Sam looked up from tending Thistledown and pointed to a large, flat slab of stone about twenty yards away.  After putting on her gloves, Keren dragged the goblin nearest her toward it.  The creature was not so heavy as she had expected, about like dragging a deer to be dressed. She had piled three on the slab before anyone noticed what she did.  Jack and Sam would have bade her stop her labor but Thistledown cautioned them, saying "If you make her stop one thing, be sure you have another for her to do. She has never killed before except for food and is deeply troubled.  Let her work.  Or better yet, I can tend to our hurts.  Go help her."

    Jack and Sam looked at each other, then at the goblins, then at Keren hauling on the arm of a large ogre, pulling it slowly to the slab.  They grimaced but nodded and bounded away to fetch other goblins to the fire.

    "Need you wood or have you other source of fire?" asked Keren.

    "We've another source," said Jack.  "We'll not waste good wood on the likes of them."

    Keren nodded and walked away until Sam called after her, instructing her to leave the largest goblins for them.  Again she nodded, passed by a particularly huge one and found a goblin more her size.

    The other elves joined their labor and worked long and hard into the night.  At dawn as the last goblin they could find was tossed on the heap, the elven soldiers rode home, rejoicing.  They had slain every goblin but one and long though they pursued that one, he escaped.  78 goblins they counted and consigned to the flames three miles away.

    "We've 21 here," said Jack.

    The captain of the elvish host nodded and dismounted.  “It was a providence that you chose to explore at this place, at this time,”  he said and strode to the maidens to ask of their welfare.

    "We have no permanent hurts," said Iris, "but look to the mortal, Keren.  She is not well."

    He turned and saw her strip off her gloves and cast them on the heap, then back away, shivering and trembling as from a bitter winter wind.  He called to her, "What ails you?" and she shook her head, a wild look in her eyes, turned and ran toward the elven halls.

    At that moment Starfoot rode up and swung to the ground by the captain.  They spoke briefly then race after Keren.

    "She'll run herself to death if we don't stop her," said Neldoras.  "She should never have been permitted to handle those goblins."

    "She is running in the right direction at least," observed Starfoot.  "Maybe it is only fear which assails her."

    "Maybe, but let us not leave her alone until we know."

    Presently they came upon her, leaning against a tree, gasping for breath and shaking uncontrollably.

    "O-o-on-ly s-s-sc-rat-ch-ch-es," she stammered through chattering teeth.  "S-s-s-o c-c-cold."

    "There is poison on Goblin weapons, and even on their claws.  A single scratch is enough," observed Starfoot.

    "To kill a man," added the captain, softly.

    Starfoot helped her sit on a wide tree root.  Though she had no major wound, she had many cuts and scratch about the arms and legs and both elves began immediately to fear for her.  They applied such healing ointment as they had with them.  She tried to stand but could not and groped about for the trunk of the tree.  The elves feared it was already too late to help her.  Starfoot called to Nimthalion, his horse, who trotted to his side obediently.  The elf mounted and the captain lifted Keren to him.  With but a single word from Starfoot, the horse stepped into a smooth, ground covering single-foot.

    "You dear, brave creature," Starfoot whispered to her as he held her.  "Live!  If you've any sense of fair play, you must live so I may have a chance to berate you properly."

    A faint smile touched her lips but passed.  "Oh, Starfoot, I know not what ails me.  I feel such sadness."

    "Sadness?  For what?"

    "For those miserable goblins, because they have no escape from their ill fate.  For myself because I miss my family and fear I'll never see them again.  And for my friends, Thistledown, Jack, Sam and you, because of the harsh deeds you must do to prevent deeds more terrible still."

    "You sweet, sweet child," he murmured and kissed her brow.

    Now, with elves, a simple kiss can tell what is amiss with a body.  Immediately he knew Keren had need of strong medicine, for her injuries were rapidly poisoning her.  He bade his horse halt and took her face in one hand, holding her about the waist and kissed her, hoping maybe the fire of his spirit might join with hers and burn away the goblin illness which sought to claim her.  No kiss of a lover's passion, but one akin to that which a despairing father will bestow on a dying child, begging that a little life should pass from him to make the child whole again.

    Keren remembered her first and most beloved suitor by whom she had been kissed many times.  After his death, she was sure she would never feel such bliss again.  How different was Starfoot's kiss, like a fire, burning through her, healing her and leaving her knowing nothing until she at last opened her eyes and found herself still in his arms, on a speeding horse, drawing near to the elven gates.