Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters or settings from Lord of the Rings or Xena the Warrior Princess
Chapter XV: Friends of New
Imladris, 2940 TA, December 29
Words fail to convey the otherworldly quality of Imaldris. Her senses were intrigued at every step by this haven of the supernatural. In Imaldris, a realm that beyond verbal representation, every corner held a new marvel and every encounter promised fresh interaction. Its magnetic pull was due to more than its aesthetic appeal; it was also a tapestry spun from strands of mystery and magic.
Xena learned the truth about the mysterious elves—beings of limitless power and grace—during her time in Imaldris. Although her experiences with a few of them suggested reliability, a subtle unease gnawed at her intuition, suggesting that there was danger concealed beneath their otherworldly exterior.
Xena's struggle began with the sheer complexity of the races inhabiting this world. Superficial similarities aside, a profound sense of otherness pervaded their essence, especially among the elves. They embodied an almost ethereal perfection, unparalleled in Middle Earth. Whether male or female, their stature boasted a remarkable blend of grace and strength, coupled with senses surpassing those of Men. Resilient to the whims of nature and impervious to diseases, they stood as paragons of physical prowess.
Their striking features, notably their distinctively pointed and leaf-shaped ears, set them apart in an unmistakable manner. Xena observed the fascinating spectrum of hair colors within different elven clans, complemented by eyes that shimmered in varying hues of blue or grey.
As night descended, Xena found herself reclined in her bed-chamber, grappling with a flurry of unanswered questions and a lingering appetite. Lost in contemplation, her mind journeyed back through the days spent in this enigmatic realm. A sense of purpose beckoned her forth—an imminent mission to locate the elusive wizard. Elrond's assurance of the wizard's arrival in Imladris lingered in her thoughts, accompanied by the unexpected decision of Gimli to remain.
Throughout their stay, Xena consciously distanced herself from the elves, still attempting to fathom their elusive ways. Their serene existence seemed a world apart from her own inclinations toward action and vitality. Instead, she found solace in the company of Gimli, the dwarf whose tales wove a tapestry of eccentricity and mirth, offering a more relatable and engaging companionship than the tranquil elves could provide.
In a few rare encounters with Elrond, Xena discovered a depth of wisdom that surpassed her initial assumptions. Their lengthy conversations revealed an astuteness that seemed to penetrate her being, his discernment bypassing the need for probing questions. There was an unspoken understanding, an intuitive grasp of who she was.
Amidst the serene treatment she received within the sanctuary of Elrond's abode, Xena found herself regarded not merely as a passing traveler, but as a warrior worthy of acknowledgment. The hospitality extended beyond mere sustenance and respite; it stretched to bespoke attire tailored for her upcoming journey, a gesture she accepted with gratitude.
Her inquiry for a superior sword was met with several suggestions, each blade meticulously crafted and balanced. Yet, Elrond's unexpected revelation caught her off guard. He insisted that the perfect sword for her lay elsewhere, awaiting the opportune moment to reveal itself. It was a notion that stirred both intrigue and curiosity within her, leaving her to trust in the enigmatic promise of fate.
As Elrond and Gandalf continued their discussion, the air on the balcony carried the weight of uncertainty. The winds whispered secrets of impending danger, and the silhouettes of the two figures against the twilight sky painted a scene of foreboding.
"I fear the return of Sauron is imminent," Elrond confessed, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon as if trying to discern the shadows of fate. "The forces of darkness stir once more."
Gandalf, still leaning against the wooden railing, nodded solemnly. "It is a burden we must bear, my old friend. The time for action approached, and the world of Men is in dire need of unity."
As their words hung in the air, a subtle rustle signaled the arrival of unexpected guests. Xena, flanked by Gimli, emerged onto the balcony, drawn by the gravity of the conversation. The wizard's piercing eyes acknowledged their presence, and Elrond welcomed them with a nod.
"There's no strength left in the world of Men," Elrond continued, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency. "Yet, there is one who could unite them."
Gandalf, his gaze shifting toward Xena and Gimli, added, "He is still a child, unaware of his destiny and lineage."
The wizard's words lingered, creating a momentary hush before he acknowledged the interruption with a wry smile. "I suppose our conversation will have to wait. Welcome, guests. Join us in this pivotal discussion."
Xena and Gimli approached, a blend of anticipation and anxiety etched on their faces. The gravity of the situation weighed on young Gimli's mind, his eyes revealing a mixture of curiosity and concern about his father's fate and the unfolding quest.
"Your arrival is timely," Elrond remarked, gesturing for them to take their place. "There are matters of great importance that concern us all."
Gandalf stood, his weathered face a canvas of mixed emotions at Gimli's abrupt inquiry. Xena, observing the tension in the air, hesitated before addressing the grey wizard.
"I have heard that you were looking for a wizard," Gandalf replied, his voice carrying a weight of experience and wisdom. "How can I help you?"
Xena, her resolve steadying her nerves, responded, "I am not sure you are the Wizard I am looking for, but perhaps you can help me."
However, before their conversation could deepen, Gimli's impatience and worry for his father surged forth. His words cut through the air, laden with concern and urgency. "Gandalf, what about my father? What happened to the company?"
The wizard's sigh resonated with a sense of responsibility as he met Gimli's gaze. "You were not meant to follow, Gimli," Gandalf gently chided before delving into the weighty news. "Your father is safe, but his journey will take time. I had urgent matters that led me to Elrond using the eagles."
Gimli's frustration was palpable, his anguish evident as Gandalf unveiled the bittersweet outcome of the company's quest. "Their mission was successful. Erebor was reclaimed, and the dragon was vanquished. Yet, Thorin, Kili, and Fili... they did not make it."
The weight of loss crushed Gimli's spirit, his grief raw and consuming. As Gandalf tried to provide solace through explanation, Gimli, overwhelmed by the sudden and painful news, excused himself. "Please, I need time alone," he uttered, his voice choked with emotion, before retreating to find solace in solitude.
Xena's inquiry about Erebor and the attacks diverted the attention of both Gandalf and Elrond, drawing them into a discussion about the growing threat and the spreading darkness. Gandalf confirmed, "Yes, the power is escalating, and the orcs multiply, not confined solely to Mirkwood."
"I've encountered them on my journey here," Xena interjected, her tone weighted with concern.
Gandalf, intrigued by Xena's quest for a wizard, sought clarification. "Why seek a wizard?"
Xena recounted her harrowing experience in Rohan, describing a village ravaged by marauders claiming orders from a wizard. The mention left Gandalf puzzled. "None of the wizards I know would orchestrate such chaos. Unless…" He paused, considering the implications, his thoughts leading to an unspoken name, Sauron, the dark lord who wielded power from the shadows. However, the ambiguity surrounding Saruman's allegiance complicated matters, leaving uncertainty in their deductions.
Xena, discerning Gandalf's puzzlement, looked directly at him. "While I cannot be certain, I know it's not you."
Amused by her assertion, Gandalf inquired further, "And why is that, my dear?"
With a discerning gaze, Xena replied, "Let's just say I've witnessed enough evil to recognize that you are not among them." She withheld the personal revelation of her own past darkness, opting instead for an air of assuredness.
"Now, I must resume my search for a sword," Xena announced, her resolve firm as she bid the wizards farewell, her steps purposeful as she ventured forth.
Xena, poised to depart, was halted by Gandalf's inquiry, his voice carrying a weight of purpose. "Elrond said you were to travel to Mirkwood?"
Affirming with a nod, Xena expressed her curiosity, "I have never been there. I'd like to see Dale and the Lonely Mountain. Gimli talks quite a bit about them."
Gandalf's gaze shifted, no longer inquisitive but bearing the weight of understanding as if he'd unearthed an answer sought for years. "Yes, Elrond mentioned your skills, your unique weapon, and your quest for a sword."
"That I am," Xena responded, her attention captured by the grey wizard. "Do you have any suggestions?"
Nodding thoughtfully, Gandalf unveiled a tale of elusive swords crafted by the elves long ago, their rarity paralleled only by their legendary status. "One remains with its rightful owner, but the other was lost in the depths of Gundabad, a perilous place occupied by orcs."
Curiosity ignited within Xena, while Elrond's concern was palpable. Gundabad's reputation preceded it—a perilous land few dared to tread. "How does one navigate to such a place?" she inquired.
Gandalf's words carried the weight of history and danger. "There's no map, but rumors during the war of the five armies suggested it was lost in the depths. You'll have to find your way there."
With a familiar smirk, Xena quipped, "Speaking in riddles, old man." She recognized the gravity of the task ahead, a dangerous venture that hinted at the sword's worthiness despite the peril. "Seems like my departure is sooner than anticipated."
Elrond astonished, regarded Gandalf with a serious tone, "Gundabad, Mithrandir, it's treacherous. She won't survive."
Gandalf, unfazed, reassured him with a knowing wink. "I have my reasons, Master Elrond. Let fate unfold."
With a playful glint in his eye, Gandalf added, "On that note, she was right—you do speak in riddles." His cryptic words hung in the air as Xena had left them and went looking for Gimli who seemed seriously depressed from the news he had just received.
As Xena roamed the halls of the valley, her eyes drank in the breathtaking beauty around her. The echoes of her footsteps reverberated against the polished stone, resonating with a hollowness that mirrored her gnawing hunger. She had spent hours in earnest conversation with Gimli, discussing his kin and the weight of loss, yet now her stomach clamored.
Her yearning for a hearty meal, something beyond the confines of greens and cheese, was met with a grumble of dissatisfaction. "By the gods, she could not eat more green!" she muttered to herself, craving a satisfying indulgence, perhaps a glass of rich red wine complemented by a succulent steak.
In the main halls, a flurry of activity enveloped travelers—dwarves and humans—darting to and fro in preparation. However, amidst the bustling crowd, Xena found herself a mere afterthought, disregarded by those absorbed in their urgent tasks. Their preoccupation left her feeling like a mere specter, a stranger in a space teeming with busyness and unspoken agendas.
Solace from the overwhelming commotion, she descended to the lowest part of the balcony, seeking refuge in the gentle glow of a crackling fire. In a sheltered corner, a scene unfolded before her—a child, accompanied by a woman who exuded a maternal aura, engaged in the careful preparation of a meal. The rhythmic dance of the flames cast flickering shadows upon their figures, adding a sense of warmth and calmness to the secluded enclave.
Intrigued by the intimate moment shared between the child and the woman, Xena lingered in the shadows, observing the tender exchange as they busied themselves in the art of culinary creation. The air carried a sense of familial affection, a stark contrast to the bustling corridors above. For a moment, the quietude of that corner of the balcony offered respite from the whirlwind of activity within the valley's halls.
The child's innocent curiosity echoed through the serene corner of the balcony, his words carrying a blend of hunger and bewilderment at the overwhelming dominance of green in their meals. "I don't understand how food could be formed of green," he lamented, his youthful voice tinged with perplexity. "We were served breakfast, hardly a feast, and yet we ate more than our fill. I'm still hungry. It's been like this for years."
His mother, dedicatedly tending to the fire and the food they'd gathered, offered assurances. "We have preserved food, and I've gathered berries, roots, and herbs from the kitchen. They'll enhance the flavor of our meal."
Amidst their conversation, the child's optimism surfaced. "It's going to be a fine day," he remarked, a hopeful note in his voice. "Have you told Gandalf to come and see us out here?"
As the child drew closer to his mother, the sound of wood crackling beneath the mother's hands joined their conversation. "I believe he'll sense it in the air," she replied with a gentle smile, adding logs to the fire.
Eager to hasten Gandalf's arrival, the young one proposed grilling the steaks, hoping their savory aroma might draw the wizard's attention sooner.
Yet, the enticing scent didn't beckon Gandalf or any elf. Instead, it captivated the attention of Xena, who observed the tender interaction between the child and his mother. As she lingered, her eyes adjusted to the light, revealing the truth—the pair before her were not elves but humans, akin to her own kind. The realization brought a sense of connection, a shared humanity amidst the magical aura of the valley.
"Naneth, who is that?" the child paused what he was doing and pointed at the tall woman who was staring at them "I think she has been looking at us for some time now. She could be an elf maiden," the child turned and looked at his mother again worried "It's the fire... are we allowed to lit a fire?"
The child's gaze met Xena's, who stood at a distance, seemingly catching on to their conversation. Her nod and reassuring gesture quelled their concern, coaxing a sense of ease. As she strode over to them, both mother and child observed her approach. Unlike the elf maidens they had encountered, Xena exuded an ethereal beauty, clad in armor that hinted at her distinctiveness.
"I am called Xena," she introduced herself in a subdued tone, her gaze warm yet guarded. "I'm not an elf, and the fire wasn't my intention. The aroma of those steaks caught my attention."
Gilraen, courteous and inviting, extended an offer. "Yes, my lady. Would you care to join us? I'm Gilraen, and this is my son, Estel."
Xena corrected them gently, "The name is Xena. Yes, I've been lacking a proper meal for days."
Curiosity mingled with surprise as Gilraen regarded the tall woman. "Too much green?"
"Indeed," Xena affirmed, settling near the fire. "So, what's your story? How did you end up living here?"
The question, unusually forthcoming for Xena, hung in the air. There was something about the way Gilraen spoke and the demeanor of the young Estel that piqued her interest, compelling her to spend the afternoon conversing with them. Though Gilraen concealed the truth about her son's true identity as Aragorn, and Xena held her own secrets from another realm, their interaction wove of shared stories, carefully curated to conceal their deeper truths. In that fleeting moment, beneath the tranquil facade of the valley, a bond of unexpected camaraderie blossomed between the three, their tales intertwined within the gentle flicker of the fire's warmth.
In the calm embrace of Rivendell, Xena found herself lingering longer than anticipated. Her initial intention to depart swiftly gradually faded, replaced by a newfound attachment to the valley's inhabitants.
The bond she'd forged with Gimli during his period of mourning tethered her to his side. As he slowly regained his footing, their shared moments grew, his presence a comforting constant. Yet, it wasn't solely Gimli who anchored her; Gilraen and Estel, with their enigmatic stories and spirited curiosity, captivated her attention.
Estel, a youthful soul brimming with eagerness, held a keen interest in myriad subjects, especially in the art of swordplay. Despite his ongoing training with an unfamiliar mentor, Xena found herself drawn into impromptu sparring sessions, sharing insights and tips with the aspiring young warrior.
Hours melded into days, and as Gimli gravitated toward spending more time with Estel, Xena sensed the ebb and flow of connections. The unspoken camaraderie between the dwarf and the young boy bloomed, leaving Xena feeling a gradual sense of detachment.
With each passing day, her yearning to explore new horizons, to unearth the elusive sword, tugged at her. The allure of the road, the promise of undiscovered lands, and the quest for the elusive weapon called her back into the embrace of adventure.
Thus, with a bittersweet farewell, she bid her newfound friends adieu, her heart heavy yet buoyed by the anticipation of the journey ahead. As she departed Rivendell's peaceful haven, she embarked on a meandering path, eager to traverse the unknown landscapes that awaited her, the elusive sword a beckoning call on the horizon.
((Upcoming Chapter Seventeen))
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