Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters or settings from Lord of the Rings or Xena the Warrior Princess
Chapter IV: Chronicles from a Humble Village
Middle Earth, 2940 TA, August 29
In the aftermath of Xena's departure, Gabrielle, Asher, and Erisa stood at the precipice of the celestial nexus, their gazes lingering on the fading remnants of the portal. Emotions swirled within them, a blend of relief for fulfilling their quest's purpose and the sorrow of parting ways with a beloved friend.
As the last echoes of the portal dissipated into the ethereal expanse, a somber silence enveloped the trio. Gabrielle, her heart heavy with the weight of sacrifice, turned to her companions. "We did what was necessary," she murmured, her voice carrying a resolute tone tinged with melancholy.
Asher nodded, his expression a mix of empathy and determination. "Xena understood the price that needed to be paid for the balance to be restored," he remarked, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within.
Erisa, her gaze fixed on the vanishing traces of the portal, whispered, "She knew she had to leave, but her legacy remains."
In the wake of this cosmic resolution, a new path lay before them, one fraught with uncertainties yet ripe with possibilities. Gabrielle, Asher, and Erisa shared a tacit understanding—a bond forged through the trials of their quest and the shared grief of losing a legendary figure.
Amidst the lingering echoes of their journey's end, whispers of new adventures stirred in the air. Unspoken plans and uncharted territories beckoned, weaving the threads of their futures into a tapestry of potential.
In the cosmic fabric of their quest, a new chapter awaited, veiled in the mysteries of realms yet to be explored. As they stood amidst the fading remnants of the celestial nexus, their resolve solidified, and their spirits intertwined with the promise of new beginnings.
She stretched her hand in longing, but it remained futile. Gabriel was distant, freed from her grasp in a world where Xena no longer existed. Gabrielle persisted in that realm, not solitary but amidst new comrades who appeared reliable. Xena slowly faded from this domain, departing neither to Tartarus nor the somber Elysian Fields.
However, where had she arrived?
The enchanted gateway beckoned her, its heart pulsating with an allure too captivating to resist. Lost in the darkness, she could not evade the lush light that emanated from its depths. The ancient ballad of its song lured her deeper. Initially, it felt like she walked into a void, directionless without front, back, right, or left. She bounded over the tufted grass, but instead of rushing towards the creek, her steps halted as if tethered by an invisible force. Behind her, a seemingly pointless gate stood tall—a six-foot structure a puzzling sight indeed!
Marvelous!
As she turned to contemplate, the gate vanished abruptly, leaving her alone on the grassy knoll. Her gaze drifted to her form, her fingers tracing her arms and legs. Every part of her felt corporeal, brimming with life. "Alive?" she scoffed, irony lacing her words. A sense of comfort and tranquility enveloped her, embracing the familiarity of her own body. Recollections flooded in—farewells exchanged with Gabrielle, followed by her vanishing act. Yet here she stood, inexplicably alive and well.
She stood there, the grass moving in steady waves, those long heads of golden seed as calming as harbor waves. There was something about it, their movement synchronized yet independent, their hues so close yet unique. And while they danced in that way, came the song of crickets and the chirps of birds content to be warmed by gentle rays. She recalled the days she was so blessed to travel with Gabrielle looking for a new adventure. She let her mind wander for some time missing those days. Those memories brought a faded smile to her face.
She gingerly stepped forward, relishing the sensation of the grass underfoot—a softness that mirrored warmth, tenderly caressing her soles. Each blade yielded to the summer breeze, swaying in unison like her own hair, creating a living symphony of waves and rustles, accompanied by the steady rhythm of her breaths. Her mind still reeled, requiring a moment to regain focus.
It dawned upon Xena that she stood barefoot, the grass tenderly brushing against her skin. Upon closer inspection, she found herself clad in short grey attire, her Chakram the sole familiar possession amidst the absence of the rest.
This circumstance irked her. Gradually, she began to survey her surroundings, every sight a paradoxical blend of recognition and alienation. The very core of her being sensed it—she had landed in an unfamiliar realm. The realization that she had emerged alive in another world wasn't a jest; it was the inexplicable conclusion after saving all and restoring balance. A fate she hadn't foreseen.
She harbored certainty in one aspect—her vitality. Sensations surged back the instant she stepped onto this foreign grass. Energy pulsed within her, emotions igniting a hunger in her heart—a stark contrast to the void she'd once inhabited in death. Being alive held no disdain; she'd navigate this newfound existence. Yet, the distance from Gabrielle loomed as an obstacle, a predicament that had persisted since the moment she agreed to remain deceased. She knew she'd forfeit her friendship for a greater cause.
The cycle repeated, albeit with a slightly more favorable twist this time. However, the true challenge arose from her lack of bearings—she was utterly clueless about her whereabouts or the nature of this world. Exploration lay ahead, an imperative to decipher her location. Yet, before all that, she needed attire, boots, a sword, and sustenance to sustain her exploration.
The journey across the vast expanse of grassy terrain was a quiet expedition punctuated by the gentle rustle of the wind and the occasional call of unseen creatures. With every step, Xena traversed the undulating landscape, her senses heightened, seeking clues amidst the endless fields that stretched far into the horizon.
The scenery remained unchanged for what seemed like an eternity—a tapestry of lush greenery and rolling hills that unfurled endlessly before her. The path she followed, while seemingly leading forward, teased her with a sense of repetition, an unnerving sensation that perhaps she treaded in circles amidst this expansive landscape.
As she pressed on, her perseverance was rewarded when a cluster of towering trees appeared on the horizon. These sentinels of the landscape stood tall and proud, their branches reaching skyward, adorned with leaves that shimmered in the sunlight. Their presence offered a temporary respite from the monotony of the open grasslands.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity and a desire for a vantage point, Xena hastened towards the nearest tree, scaling its rough bark with the agility honed through years of combat and exploration. Ascending to the highest branch, she surveyed her surroundings with keen eyes, embracing the opportunity to gain perspective.
The panorama revealed a landscape that hinted at life beyond the verdant sea of grass. In the distance, a river meandered gracefully, its glistening waters catching the sunlight, offering a promise of refreshment and a chance to quench her thirst. Further away, nestled amidst the countryside, lay a cluster of structures—a small village, adorned with humble dwellings and a hint of bustling activity.
Determined and guided by her newfound discoveries, Xena formulated a plan. She decided to take respite beneath the sheltering canopy of the trees, allowing herself a moment of reprieve before embarking on her next phase. Her strategy entailed cleansing herself at the nearby river, indulging in its clear waters for sustenance, and then venturing towards the distant village. Her objective: was to unravel the mysteries of this unfamiliar realm and navigate the uncharted paths that lay ahead.
Descending from the lofty perch of the tree, Xena fulfilled her promise of a brief respite, settling against the tree's sturdy trunk. The embrace of the tree's rough bark against her back was a welcomed support as she eased into a seated position, her back reclining against the solid support. The rustling leaves overhead created a natural canopy, filtering the sunlight and casting shifting patterns of light and shadow around her.
As she closed her eyes, the sounds of nature enveloped her—the gentle whisper of the wind, the distant chirping of unseen birds, and the faint rustle of leaves. The serene calmness of the moment washed over her, allowing her to momentarily escape the perplexities of her current predicament. The scene was serene, painted with hues of green and dappled sunlight, a tranquil sanctuary amidst the mysteries that engulfed her.
However, a sudden realization disrupted her tranquility. Opening her eyes, she felt an unusual sensation—an absence of fatigue. Her body, once weary from countless battles and trials, now felt inexplicably rejuvenated. It was a peculiar restfulness, almost unnerving in its completeness.
Folding her legs close to her chest, she scrutinized her body. While undoubtedly hers, it bore no remnants of the scars and wounds earned through her life's exploits. There was an eerie absence of the aches and pains that had once been her constant companions. It was as though her body had been restored to a pristine state, erasing the physical toll of her past adventures.
For someone who had lived a life abundant with adventures, the absence of these marks seemed inconceivable. Her body, familiar yet foreign, carried the weight of her experiences but lacked the physical evidence—the scars and traces of her storied past. It was an uncanny disconnection from the very vessel that had borne witness to her trials and triumphs.
Driven by a need for confirmation, she rose, an urgency guiding her steps towards the nearby river. The path she trod wound its way through the verdant landscape, the soft grass cushioning her every step. The river shimmered tantalizingly in the distance, its surface reflecting the vivid hues of the sky above.
With each stride, the scenery unfolded—a canvas painted with nature's hues. The occasional flutter of butterflies, the melody of unseen creatures, and the murmur of the flowing river provided an enchanting accompaniment to her journey. The verdant landscape stretched endlessly, guiding her towards the beckoning waters that held the promise of revelation—her reflection.
Seated at the river's edge, Xena positioned herself close enough for the water to touch her feet. The river flowed gently, its surface reflecting the serene sky above. Leaning forward, she dipped her hands into the clear water, cupping it to wash away the weariness that lingered on her face. As the ripples subsided, her own reflection greeted her—a reassuring sight that confirmed her presence in this unfamiliar world. Her features, unmistakably hers, stared back at her, dispelling the momentary fear of encountering a stranger's visage.
Relief swept over her—a testament to her existence in this new realm, in her own body. Yet, amidst this reassurance lay the sobering reality of her predicament—stranded in an unknown land without her cherished friend, facing uncertainties that loomed ahead. However, introspection was a luxury she couldn't afford for long; answers beckoned, and she was determined to seek them out.
Gazing up at the expanse of the clear, azure sky, she observed the sun's position, gauging the warmth of the surroundings. It hinted at the familiar passage of time she had known in her former world. Judging by the sun's position, it appeared to be midsummer or approaching its end—a semblance of temporal continuity that provided a sliver of comfort. Nightfall, with its celestial spectacle, held the promise of unveiling further revelations.
The next pivotal step demanded her attention—venturing towards the distant village, an outpost of human habitation in this unfamiliar realm. With resolve in her heart, Xena rose from the river's edge, her determination guiding her steps towards the settlement nestled amidst the countryside.
The path meandered through lush foliage and gently undulating terrain, leading her closer to the outskirts of the village. As she approached, the scent of wood smoke and the distant hum of activity wafted on the breeze, hinting at the bustling life within.
The village emerged into view, a quaint assembly of humble dwellings crafted from wood and thatch, arranged around a central gathering point. Villagers bustled about their chores, their attire, and customs unique to this world, yet their daily rhythms resonated with familiarity—echoes of community and livelihood that transcended the boundaries of worlds.
The village, smaller than anticipated, exuded a sense of tranquility amid the bustling activities of the few families residing there. Each dwelling, fashioned from timber and thatch, was nestled within the verdant embrace of nature. Smoke spiraled lazily from chimneys, intermingling with the vibrant colors of the surrounding flora—a harmonious blend of human habitation and the natural world.
Xena observed the villagers as they went about their daily chores, their lives interwoven with the rhythm of this quaint community. Children played gleefully in the dusty lanes, while adults tended to their tasks—some weaving baskets, others attending to livestock, creating a tapestry of everyday existence.
The warrior, keen on attaining suitable attire, spared only a brief moment to survey the villagers. They appeared ordinary, their lives simple and unassuming. Resolving not to linger in idle observation, she set her sights on the immediate task at hand—securing garments and shoes to replace her impractical attire.
The urgency to acquire suitable clothing led her on a quest through the village. She sought attire that would suffice for the time being, disregarding the need for her usual armor and leather boots, essentials for a warrior like herself.
Amidst her search, she encountered a young local girl, no more than eight years old. The child's innocence and curiosity captivated Xena's attention, drawing her toward this beacon of youthful exuberance. Approaching the child cautiously yet with a warm smile, Xena attempted communication, unsure of the language barrier that might impede their interaction.
To her surprise, the child responded, understanding Xena's gestures and expressions—a phenomenon that hinted at a deeper connection, transcending linguistic barriers. In a realm where comprehension emerged as if guided by some unseen force, the language itself became secondary in the face of this inexplicable understanding.
Gesturing to indicate her need for clothing, Xena attempted to convey her requirements to the child, hoping the young one would comprehend her request. With a blend of sign language and mutual understanding, she prompted the child to seek out attire suitable for her needs. The child, with an eager nod, darted off towards one of the nearby dwellings, returning moments later with a bundle of clothes, presumably procured from her mother.
As Xena accepted the offered garments with a grateful nod, the child's face lit up with a radiant smile, a silent assurance that she understood the warrior's needs. Attempting to convey her gratitude despite the language barrier, Xena's expression softened, and she offered a reassuring smile in return.
As Xena received the bundle of garments, a grateful smile graced her lips, accompanied by a heartfelt "Thank you." To her surprise, the child's eyes lit up in understanding, acknowledging the gratitude expressed in a language that needed no translation.
Eager to test the attire offered to her, Xena appeared ready to leave, her movements indicating an urgency to try on the clothes. However, the child, seemingly reluctant to let the moment pass, stepped closer, a curious expression playing on her young face.
"Wait," the child uttered in a voice tinged with innocence and curiosity, her gaze fixed on the warrior standing before her. Her hesitation dissolved as a string of gestures followed, a wordless plea to engage Xena in a conversation that surpassed language barriers. "You did not tell me who you are?"
Xena's lips curved into a serene smile in response to the child's persistent curiosity. The young girl's eagerness for knowledge was palpable, her eyes reflecting an insatiable hunger for understanding.
"Fair enough," Xena replied, her tone gentle yet resonant, acknowledging the child's pursuit of understanding. "I am Xena," she revealed, her words carrying a quiet strength that bespoke volumes beyond a mere introduction.
The child regarded Xena with a mixture of fascination and reverence, an understanding slowly dawning within her youthful gaze. The name "Xena" held a weight that transcended the confines of their current conversation. It reverberated through the village, stirring echoes of ancient tales and legendary exploits.
In that exchange, the child found herself face to face with a living legend—a warrior whose name echoed through history. Xena's presence, her stature, and the air of quiet determination she exuded spoke volumes, leaving an indelible impression upon the child's heart.
As Xena gracefully stepped back from the child, she sought a hidden alcove tucked away from the bustling activity of the village. Settling in this secluded spot, she unraveled the bundle of garments that the child had kindly procured.
Amongst the simple yet finely crafted items lay a long, flowing gown fashioned from a soft, azure-hued cotton fabric. Its elegance lay in its simplicity, the fabric draping gracefully to form gentle folds that caught the sunlight, a testament to the village's craftsmanship. Accompanying the gown were a pair of comfortable, unassuming slippers—modest yet functional, perfect for traversing the village's pathways.
As Xena examined the attire, her gaze flitting over the gown's exquisite details—a delicate embroidery adorning the neckline, subtle patterns embellishing the sleeves—a sense of gratitude welled within her for the thoughtful offering.
Engrossed in the task of appraising the clothing, the child's voice disrupted her reverie. "Where are you from?" the young girl inquired, her curiosity unabated.
Xena, her attention briefly diverted, quirked an eyebrow in mild intrigue. "What makes you sure I am not from here?" she inquired with a playful yet enigmatic tone, gauging the child's perceptions.
"I know everyone in this village, and I have never seen you here," the child replied earnestly, her gaze unwavering. Her conviction carried an air of honesty, underlining her certainty about the village's familiar faces.
"You are right," Xena affirmed with a nod, acknowledging the astuteness of the child's observation. "Let's say I am from a place far away," she continued, choosing her words carefully to offer a glimpse without divulging the complexities of her origins. "And I needed your help," she added, a touch of gratitude lacing her words, acknowledging the child's assistance in her time of need.
As the child's curiosity waned after a string of questions, she bid Xena farewell with a nod and a youthful skip in her step, leaving the warrior to her solitude. Xena, now alone, found a secluded spot shielded by verdant foliage to don the simple yet elegant attire—a flowing blue gown that cascaded gracefully around her frame, complemented by the unassuming slippers that offered comfort with each step.
Taking a moment to adjust to the unfamiliar clothing, she discovered a clever solution to keep her Chakram secure without the burden of carrying it in her hands. With resourcefulness born of experience, she devised a clever method to affix the weapon discreetly, ensuring its presence and readiness without hindering her movements.
Feeling both at ease and prepared for exploration, Xena set forth into this new realm, her senses attuned to the sights, sounds, and scents of the unfamiliar landscape. The village buzzed with its daily rhythms as villagers went about their chores, the sun casting a warm glow upon the rustic surroundings.
As she ventured further into the countryside, Xena's focus shifted to the task at hand—navigating this uncharted territory and securing sustenance. Her surroundings held an air of mystery, inviting her to unravel its secrets while providing a canvas for new discoveries.
With her Chakram securely hidden within her attire, she strode purposefully, a silent determination driving her forward. Her quest for sustenance led her along the winding pathways, guided by a combination of intuition and the village's familiar scents that hinted at the promise of a meal waiting to be discovered.
Xena surveyed the village, a testament to toil and resilience, where hardworking individuals labored amidst the fields and rural landscape. The villagers, their faces etched with the marks of toil, went about their tasks with a determination that spoke volumes of their commitment to their homes and families. Families seemed scarce in the modest settlement, suggesting a community bound by shared purpose and mutual support.
Upon spotting what seemed like a tavern, Xena ventured inside, her attire a stark contrast to the rustic surroundings. Lacking the currency of this unfamiliar world, she approached an elderly woman seated across the bar, a figure who exuded a seasoned air and the wisdom of years lived.
"Hey," Xena greeted her with a polite yet earnest tone, her gaze meeting the old woman's eyes. "I do not have any money. Is there any work I can help you with, for which I can get paid?" Her offer carried the weight of a seasoned warrior willing to contribute her efforts in exchange for a means to integrate into this new world.
Before inquiring about potential work, Xena scanned the tavern, searching for tasks reminiscent of her past experiences. However, the limited scope of the small village offered few apparent opportunities. Despite the simplicity of the place, she recognized the need to start somewhere, using her skills to contribute and earn her keep.
The old woman regarded Xena with a mixture of curiosity and assessment, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "There is always work," she mused, her gaze taking in the warrior's appearance. She offered bread and cheese, a gesture of hospitality that Xena accepted gratefully, her hunger subtly masked by her composed demeanor. "How did you end up here?"
As she nibbled on the simple fare, Xena observed the surroundings, her awareness heightened by the conversation. Feeling somewhat out of place despite the clean attire, she chose to disclose minimal details about her circumstances. "It's a long story," she explained, cautious to avoid divulging too much and inviting skepticism. "I am a little lost, unfamiliar with these lands. I seek to find where I am and a place to stay, some work to sustain myself," she conveyed, careful in her choice of words.
The old woman, her eyes filled with empathy, offered a pragmatic solution. "You can sleep in the stable. My sons were called to aid the war, leaving only women, children, and the elderly in our village," she explained a hint of sorrow in her voice. "Eastfold is our village. You are close to Rohan, although it's quite a distance. It's the nearest city from here."
As Xena mentioned "Rohan," the unfamiliarity in her voice betrayed her lack of knowledge about the town and its storied history.
The old woman chuckled at Xena's query, her laughter carrying the warmth of familiarity with the tales of Rohan. "Ah, Rohan," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's a land of horse lords and vast grassy plains, a place where valor and honor are prized above all else. The people there have a bond with their horses like no other, and their loyalty is as unyielding as the sun that bathes their lands."
"I have work to do, and I cannot remain here feeding your curiosity, young one," the woman added with a smile, gesturing toward the corner of the tavern. "If you can read, you'll find some books there that might help you."
Grateful for the guidance, Xena moved to the indicated corner, finishing the remaining bread and cheese before delving into the trove of books. The wooden shelf held a collection of weathered tomes, their spines worn with age, promising untold stories and insights into the world she found herself in.
Seated amidst the modest yet welcoming interior of the tavern, Xena leafed through the first book she laid her hands on, reading the title inscribed on its cover: "Tales of Rohan." A flicker of contentment adorned her features at the realization that she could indeed read, a skill that would serve as a gateway to understanding this new land.
As she immersed herself in the tales woven within the pages, the old woman returned, bearing a flagon of wine that she placed gently on the table. Observing Xena with a mix of curiosity and interest, she couldn't help but remark on the rarity of a lady with both education and an air of unfamiliarity with the village lifestyle.
"A lady that can read, and with your looks, you could find some work in Rohan," the old woman suggested a note of encouragement in her voice. "We here are more accustomed to toiling in the fields for our living. But, you seem to possess a different kind of strength. Rohan always has room for those willing to help."
"I might take a look," Xena responded, her tone carrying a hint of intrigue. "But I might borrow your stable a little longer."
"Stay as long as you want. But if you decide to stay and dine on my food, you'll have to lend a hand with a few chores," the old lady quipped with a smirk, implying a fair trade for hospitality.
In the following days, Xena settled into a routine within the village, her days filled with purposeful tasks and her nights spent poring over the tales of Rohan. Agnes, the kind-hearted old woman, welcomed her into the rhythm of village life, where mornings began with the chirping of birds and the scent of dew-kissed fields.
Assisting Agnes with various chores, Xena found solace in the simplicity of their tasks. Her willingness to lend a hand earned her a place among the villagers, their interactions woven with camaraderie and shared moments. Peaceful moments she had not lived for a long time. Here in this unknown land, she found a place to start over.
Between chores and conversations with the villagers, Xena gathered invaluable tidbits about the journey to Rohan. She learned of the closest towns en route and the essential supplies necessary for the travel ahead. Although she lacked a detailed map, the villagers' insights and her resourcefulness fueled her determination to venture toward Rohan's horizons.
Days turned into weeks, and the humble village became a temporary haven—a place where she could reflect on her journey thus far and prepare for the path ahead. As she grew accustomed to the routines and rhythms of the village, she found herself appreciating the simplicity of life and the bonds forged in unexpected places.
She would keep herself busy all day long, most of the night she would miss Gabrielle and would talk to her as if she was with her. With each passing day, her preparations for the journey became more deliberate. Gathering provisions, seeking advice from the villagers, and tending to her newfound responsibilities, Xena laid the groundwork for her departure.
She was slowly drawn into this new world, day by day, and she almost forgot how she ended up there. She started to need to travel again, to step into her new adventure. Soon time was coming, and the village was too small for her. The need to explore and find out more about this unknown world became a necessity.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and gold, Xena sat beneath the starlit sky, a serene calm enveloping her. She reflected on her time in the village, grateful for the hospitality and guidance bestowed upon her by Agnes and the villagers. Feeling a sense of readiness and determination pulsating within her, Xena knew that the time had come to bid farewell to the comforting embrace of the village and embark on the road leading to Rohan—a realm of horses, legends, and untold adventures awaiting her arrival.
With a heart filled with gratitude and a spirit brimming with anticipation, Xena bid farewell to Agnes and the village, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the unknown journey to Rohan beckoned her forward. With firm resolve and unwavering determination, she set forth, ready to carve her path in this new realm, armed with the knowledge gained and the tales she had unearthed, a warrior on the precipice of a new adventure.
((Upcoming Chapter Five))
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