Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters or settings from Lord of the Rings or Xena the Warrior Princess

Author's Note:

This is a LegoRomance (slow-burn)

~ XXI: A familiar Village, An unknown Shadow ~

Outskirt of Imladris, 3018 TA, October 27

Legolas was a thoughtful and knowledgeable elf, gifted with his mother's compassion and his father's selfishness. He was able to conceal his feelings behind a cold, lethal look and unreadable facial features. Thranduil had never sent him on a quest or into a fight and he had always returned triumphant. His moves were filled with expertise and ferocity, with fire strikes in his swords and precise accuracy in his arrows. Thranduil felt both pleased and concerned about his son. Related to the rest of the elves, his son was still young. Legolas, though, was wise even for a young ellon.

Legolas was Elvenking's son; he raised him and gave him not just his strengths but also his flaws. Legolas might be arrogant and ruthless due to his sense of superiority and pride. He had seen the darkness that Thranduil was encountering, and it had become a part of him. Like his father, he grew up to be powerful and wise. His mother's gentleness and warmth, though, stayed with him. When disturbed, he became feral and deadly, yet he was compassionate and understanding with people he held dear.

The irony was that Legolas had not only lived in Greenwood, but he had also experienced a different world, particularly during his travels with Aragorn. He had lived among humans and was familiar with their customs. He had also spent time in Imladris. As Legolas grew older, he became less interested in the darkness in which his father was immersed. He began to develop his own characteristics. For the most part, he had a chilly and lacklustre demeanour, preferring to keep in the background. His quick temper and firm mannerisms, on the other hand, would quickly land him in the spotlight.

At the end of the day, Legolas would remain around, and there was no way he could ever back out of his promises. When he formed a commitment with his friends, he kept it till the end, without expecting anything in return. He was brave, and he would confront any danger without fleeing. Being a Woodlan elf gave him the attribute of feeling himself higher and more mighty than other species. As a result, he became competitive. But only his closest acquaintances were aware of such characteristics.

Regardless, he was the prince of Mirkwood, and that aspect had him thoroughly immersed in the Elvish culture from the day he was born, and with his upbringing came a rigorous sense of tradition that his kin handed down through the years. He, like all elves, had respect for Nature and a sense of harmony with other living beings, even if he occasionally stepped on their toes. He was an elf with strong beliefs and a personal code. He was pleased to be a part of that privileged ancestry, for better or worse.

Legolas was aware of his strengths and weaknesses. He'd even changed from the arrogant ellon he used to be. But in all the five hundred long years he had spent in Middle-Earth, he had never been rendered speechless as he had been the previous month when he met the human known as Xena. He could never foretell what would happen when the two met. When she was present, no matter how wise he was, everything might change in the blink of an eye. And if he fought it and attempted to find an answer, he would simply wind himself in a worse tangle and in a foolish mess.

Like this morning.

It was merely a figment of her imagination; it was not genuine. She realized that for someone who lived in the realm of dreams so much, these experiences were difficult, but when she woke up, she would laugh and believe nightmares were absurd. But she wasn't awake just now; she was sound asleep. The issue began there. Xena was never a heavy sleeper. She would be aware of her surroundings even when sleeping. That did not happen last night when she slept out close to the wood-elf. She'd fallen asleep quickly and deeply, ending herself in a recurring nightmare.

There would be a tremendous storm in this new nightmare, causing everything in her dream world to crumble. Everything, including trees, mountains, and villages, would vanish into nothingness, trapping her in perpetual darkness. She would be stuck in a soundless echo far west in the devouring darkness, the echo got louder and alive in the north, and there was an only scorching fire in the east. The flame was beckoning her like a moth to the fire, and she couldn't fight her way out. The figure of the north was the only thing keeping her from stepping into the flames and burn.

These forests were not the same; they were much too twisty and dismal to be Rivendell trees. Except for the tree she was clinging to, nothing felt familiar. 'Don't panic,' she reminded herself; there had to be a reason for this. Xena's eyes widened as she felt her face connecting with something solid. She felt her lips opening and drooling on the solid surface in an instant. She dragged herself to her feet, wiping her lips with her right hand. It took her a long time to come back to reality, and the first picture she saw was of the elf staring at her in bewilderment.

That action provided her with more than she bargained for. As he realized her saliva was all over his sleeve, he stared at her, unimpressed and a little disgusted. She'd just spat on him? He started kicking the ground out from beneath her and watching her fall to the ground in front of him with a long gasp as soon as he had the thought. He muttered something in his own language and stepped up, leaving her seated on the ground.

Once, and not so long ago, it would have been madness to repeat the same action on Xena. The human stared at him, astounded by her own behaviour. She'd slept close to the elf all night, so she wasn't conscious of her surroundings and ended up drooling like a newborn. What was going on with her? Despite her efforts to discover an explanation, her mute immersion in her own contemplation did not hamper her progress.

It was Arwen who appeared and gave Xena a hand to help her rise. Elleth laughed softly. "Forgive Legolas, it's been ages since he had someone droll on him," Arwen apologized. "Or possibly no one has ever done such a thing."

Xena rolled her eyes; of course, her day would begin with meeting paths with the obnoxious elf. "There is always a first time," Xena snarled, directing her focus to Legolas, who had come up to Aragorn to inquire about the distance to the settlement.

This time, it was Aragorn who broke the tension that was about to break out between the human and the elf. "We're going; the village isn't far away," he said, motioning them to follow.

As previously stated, the gang of six prepared to depart. The hobbits extinguished the fire and grabbed a few coverings to send to the horses. Aragorn and Legolas untied the horses and proceeded down the road toward the river. They were barely fifty hundred yards away from the settlement. The six of them arrived at the village early in the morning.

The hobbits were now protesting about the promise that had been made to them. They want a good breakfast. Aragorn and Legolas exchanged glances, both aware that staying in the settlement with the hobbits for too long was not a wise decision. They consented, though, and treated everyone to a hearty breakfast at the nearby tavern. After that, Aragorn and Legolas led them to the market to purchase the goods on the list and return on time.

Arwen stayed with Xena, her first interaction with a human village. The hamlet cottages were imprinted in the vast valley as though put by a fastidious collector. The community was like a family; for better or worse, everyone knew everyone else. Despite their disagreements, they were devoted, caring, and protective of one another. It reminded her of any other town she had travelled through in her prior life.

She was wandering around the settlement, looking for any distinctions or acknowledging anything that would indicate she was in Middle-Earth. The only items that didn't fit were the hobbits and the elves. The remainder was just a human-populated village.

Xena continued to walk around the market, losing herself in the controlled anarchy it housed. She'd halted a few times to examine the leggings and fabric, imagining what modifications her clothing might need when the weather became colder. Buyers and dealers were shouting at each other, as merchants walked back and forth. Arwen had a keen eye and saw the items Xena was hunting for. Xena kept strolling through the throng until Arwen came to a halt and purchased the materials and leggings.

She observed an elderly person staring at her from the opposite side of the market a few minutes after she parted ways with Arwen. He was dressed in a coat that covered the majority of his torso and face. The elderly gentleman stared at her and motioned for her to follow him. Before Xena could pursue him, he dashed off into a neighbouring alley and vanished. Xena followed, intrigued by the man's antics, spotting weird inscriptions across the wall as she went into the alley.

The alley became darker as one moved farther into it, with shadows covering almost every corner. She could hear people chatting but could only see their forms. She observed the same guy at the end of the alley, saying "This way, Xena!" before turning and walking away through the wall. Xena halted for a split second, not only perplexed as to how the old man knew her name but also because it was only then that she realised he was a ghost figure.

Despite this, she continued on the same way until she arrived at the end of the alley. She heard the old man's voice again, but this time it was louder and deeper. "You arrived," he said, "he is waiting."

Xena spun around, looking for the source of the voice, but she couldn't see anybody. Suddenly, she felt a hand grasp her by the neck and push her against the wall, dragging her into some unknown darkness and dread. She was ready to start resisting when the guy spoke again, this time in a deeper voice, "broken promises," the voice said many times.

Then, at the same time, another voice could be heard stating, "Forgotten secrets... Last moments... Daying mother... The child survived."

And with that, the final sentence echoed in her mind like a scream, bringing her a severe headache: "The child is alive."

"The child is alive..."

Then it was all gone. Xena was freed, and she clutched her neck, gasping deeply. The alley's blackness faded away, and everything became light. She gazed around as though she had just seen a ghost. However, no one was present. There are no shadows or noises. She took one final look at her before stepping away.

Xena emerged from the alley and saw Arwen, who was searching for her. She didn't tell anybody about it since she felt it was better not to. What she had heard and seen may have been a figment of her mind. She could only assume what the voices were saying. Nothing made sense, at least not for the time being.

After Arwen found Xena, they rejoined the others and returned to Rivendell. Xena was unimpressed by her visit to the human village. Except for the scene with the elderly guy and the voices, of course. She didn't linger to mingle with the locals or learn about the area. A part of her yearned for adventure, and a little part of her yearned for Rivendell. How could one month in Rivendell have resulted in such a disparity?

She couldn't answer many of her own questions, but for the first time, she recognised what Lord Elrond had proposed. She would have ended up living this life if she had managed to flee. She would go from town to town, attempting to assist people she didn't understand. However, by remaining behind, she became a part of something larger. She couldn't explain why, but she finally agreed that remaining in Rivendell and joining the Fellowship was the proper decision.

((Upcoming Chapter Twenty-Two))

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