Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters or settings from Lord of the Rings or Xena the Warrior Princess
XLVI: One foe closer - One friend farther
Imladris, 29 August 3018 TA
As Xena entered the verdant embrace of Rivendell's forest, she felt a profound sense of expansion within her - a deep, soulful connection to the ancient life that thrived around her. The air was rich with the scent of moss and leaves, and the light dappled through the trees, casting patterns of shadow and sun on the forest floor. It was in this moment, beneath the nascent rays of the ever-rising sun, that she felt a vibrant sense of aliveness.
Memories of her first journey to Rivendell, alongside a younger Gimli, floated back to her. Back then, Middle Earth was an alien land, filled with wonders and dangers alike. But now, after decades spent traversing its lands, a sense of familiarity had seeped into her bones. The once-foreign landscapes had become part of her story, woven into the fabric of her life.
As they ventured deeper into the elven woods, Xena's gaze was filled with wonder and a touch of apprehension. The beauty of Rivendell, nestled in the western valley of the Misty Mountains, was breathtaking – almost ethereal in its calmness. The flowing streams, the gentle rustle of leaves, and the harmonious architecture of the elves blended seamlessly with the natural surroundings.
Yet, amidst this awe, there was an underlying fear in Xena's heart – a fear of losing herself in the enchanting allure of Imladris. The timeless serenity of Rivendell, while comforting, also reminded her of the enigma of her own unchanged existence, a mystery she hoped to unravel during her time here.
As Glóin's party continued their journey through the woods, the anticipation of the upcoming council and the chance to seek answers from the likes of Elrond and possibly Gandalf filled Xena with a mix of eagerness and trepidation. Rivendell was not just a haven of beauty and peace; it was a place where destinies were shaped, and truths unveiled.
As they journeyed through the lush landscape of Rivendell, Gimli called out to Xena with a mixture of urgency and jest, "Lassy, will you keep up? We must reach Rivendell ere nightfall." He admired the beauty of the land, yet his heart longed for the dark, stone halls of Erebor. "Remember your vow, not to be ensnared by Elven allure," he teased her.
Xena, having once shared with Gimli her adventures with a Woodland Elf and her stay in Thranduil's Halls, found herself the subject of his playful chiding. Gimli had been mockingly aloof for a week, feigning displeasure at her elven associations.
Turning to him, she replied with feigned indifference, "I was merely acquainting myself with these new lands, Gimli. Erebor's majesty is beyond compare, as well you know."
Not easily fooled, Gimli retorted, "A fine attempt, Lass, but your eyes betray your true fascination!"
Xena, skillfully steering the conversation away, conceded, "I won't deny the beauty of Imladris. Yet, living among Elves would not suit me. The solitude of Erebor is more to my liking."
Gimli glanced over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face. "But you've said Imladris brings you peace, haven't you?" he prodded, knowing well how to rile her.
Xena, quickening her pace, blocked his path and pushed him back playfully. "That was but a fleeting thought, Gimli! Despite their grace, Elves are not my kin." She glared at him, half-joking, half-serious. "Let's not speak of this again, especially here amidst their kind."
Gimli chuckled at her reaction, patting her back lightly. "Fear not, I wouldn't dare betray your secret disdain for Elves," he jested. "Unless, of course, there's something in it for me!"
Their banter continued as they made their way through the verdant paths of Rivendell, the beauty of the land a stark contrast to their light-hearted squabbles. The bond of friendship between Xena and Gimli, forged through years of shared experiences, was evident in their playful exchanges, a camaraderie that had withstood the test of time and trials.
Xena let out a sigh, shaking her head with a smirk at Gimli's playful jibe. Over the years, her experiences and time spent predominantly among the dwarves had subtly altered her perspective on elves. While she bore no malice towards them, she found herself less inclined towards their ways, particularly those of the Woodland Elves. Her adventures had ingrained in her a fondness for the more straightforward and earthy nature of the dwarves.
As they approached the Gates of Rivendell, Xena's thoughts momentarily shifted from her musings. The gates themselves were a marvel of elven architecture, blending seamlessly with the natural beauty of the surroundings. Carved with intricate designs that spoke of ancient lore and the deep connection of the elves with nature, the gates stood as a serene yet imposing entrance to the hidden valley.
Beyond the gates, the pathways of Rivendell unfolded in serene elegance, bordered by flowing streams and vibrant gardens. The architecture of the elven dwellings was both majestic and harmonious, with graceful arches and delicate filigree that complemented the wild beauty of the landscape.
Near the gates, a group of Rivendell elves stood guard, their demeanor watchful yet welcoming. Among them, Xena noticed a few elves whose attire and bearing marked them as denizens of Mirkwood. Their distinctive colors and style set them apart, a reminder of the varied cultures within the elven kind. The setting sun cast a golden hue over the scene, making the elves appear to glow with an inner light.
Xena rested a hand on her famous blade, a habit born of years of readiness and adventure. She had no particular grievance against the elves of Rivendell, finding their presence less imposing than those from Mirkwood. Her experiences in the Woodland Realm had left her with mixed feelings, a blend of respect and reservation.
As they prepared to announce their arrival and request an audience with Lord Elrond, Xena steeled herself for the encounters ahead. Rivendell was a place of wisdom and ancient knowledge, and she hoped to find answers to her questions here, amidst its tranquil beauty. Yet, the presence of Mirkwood elves served as a reminder of the complexities of her journey and the diverse paths that had brought her to this moment.
As they announced their presence, one of the elven guards promptly assured them that they would be brought to Lord Elrond. The party of dwarves, including Xena, followed, maintaining a respectful demeanor to avoid any unintended offense in the elven domain.
The setting sun cast a warm, orange-gold light over Rivendell, painting the valley in hues reminiscent of fire hearths and ripe tangerines. As night approached, the colors deepened into richer shades, heralding the arrival of twilight. Under this serene canopy, the Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas, met with Lord Elrond to discuss pressing matters.
Legolas reported the escape of Gollum from Thranduil's Halls, an incident that had grave implications. He also spoke of the increasing orc activity, a growing threat that needed attention. Elrond, after hearing Legolas' account, expressed his gratitude and suggested that the prince stay in Rivendell for a while longer, sensing that his presence might be needed in the unfolding events.
At that moment, Elrond's discussion with Legolas was interrupted by a guard, who informed the Lord of Rivendell that additional guests had arrived. Elrond excused himself to welcome the newcomers, leaving the study to greet them. Legolas, seizing the opportunity, bowed respectfully and took his leave, preferring to avoid any potential encounter with the dwarves.
Meanwhile, Xena, trailing behind the guard, found herself captivated by the beauty of Rivendell's architecture. The intricate designs, harmonious with nature, and the gentle music of elven melodies created an atmosphere of calmness. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, allowing herself to be enveloped by the peaceful ambiance. At that moment, her heart felt light, unburdened by the concerns and questions that had been her constant companions.
Her earlier reservations about elven settlements were momentarily forgotten. Rivendell, with its enchanting beauty and serene environment, seemed to offer a respite, a potential haven for her restless spirit. The notion of finding peace in such a place, once unthinkable, now seemed like a possibility, however distant. The realization that Imladris was more than just a sight for sore eyes, but a place where one could find solace, lingered in Xena's mind as she followed the guard deeper into the heart of Elrond's home.
The moment Xena stepped into the study chamber, time seemed to stand still. Her gaze, intense and unwavering, locked onto the figure standing before her. Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, stood tall in his distinctively elven garb, his attire reflecting his Woodland heritage.
The sight of him stirred a whirlwind of emotions within Xena. Confusion, anger, and a sense of betrayal swirled within her. It had been a lifetime since their paths had crossed, and yet here he was, unchanged by the years. Her hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of her sword, the very sword that had once belonged to Legolas' mother. Despite their shared history and the challenges they had faced together, Xena found herself poised for confrontation, her emotions running high.
Legolas, too, was caught in a maelstrom of feelings. Surprise and irritation flashed across his face as he recognized Xena. Her presence in Rivendell, after all these years, was the last thing he expected. Questions raced through his mind - why had she not reached out to him? Why had she disappeared without a trace, leaving him to assume that time had claimed her, as it did all mortals?
The tension in the room was palpable. Legolas eyed Xena warily, noting her hand on her blade. The thought that she might attack him seemed absurd, yet her stance and expression spoke of deep-seated emotions.
The dwarves, sensing the undercurrents of tension, exchanged uneasy glances. They too were taken aback by the unexpected encounter between Xena and the elven prince.
For a brief moment, the chamber was silent, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved history. Both Xena and Legolas stood, each grappling with their own tumultuous thoughts, the weight of years and memories hanging heavily between them. It was a reunion fraught with complexity, a testament to the unpredictable paths that life in Middle Earth could take.
Gimli, quick to react to the escalating tension, firmly grasped Xena's arm and pulled her back, clearing the way for Legolas to pass. His swift intervention prevented a potential confrontation. Legolas, in turn, chose not to engage with Xena. Instead, he focused his attention on the other dwarves in the party, notably recognizing Gloin. Memories of years past, when he and Tauriel had imprisoned Gloin and his companions in Mirkwood, came to mind. He acknowledged it now as a misguided act and offered Gloin a courteous, if brief, nod as he passed by.
Gloin, not particularly fond of elves, especially those from Mirkwood, returned the gesture with a restrained nod, maintaining a respectful demeanor. Despite his personal feelings, he knew better than to show open disdain for the Prince of Mirkwood, particularly in Elrond's domain. He couldn't help but feel concerned for Xena, wondering what had sparked her sudden anger.
Xena, still seething but restrained by Gimli, was ushered into the chamber. Gimli gently admonished her, reminding her of their status as guests in Elrond's house. Their tense moment was interrupted by a light cough, drawing their attention to Lord Elrond himself.
Gloin stepped forward to greet Elrond, bowing in respect. The Lord of Rivendell greeted them with a warm, knowing smile, as accustomed as he was to the intricacies of interactions between different races. His past experiences with dwarves, including Gloin's own journey with Thorin and Bilbo, had given him insight into their culture and disposition.
Elrond's gaze lingered on Xena. He remembered her from decades past and was taken aback to see her unchanged by time. His knowledge of the world told him that something unusual was at play. She appeared exactly as she had years ago, a fact that piqued his curiosity. Elrond, always keen to understand the mysteries of Middle Earth, silently resolved to learn more about Xena's unique situation. Her presence in Rivendell, unchanged by the passage of time, was a puzzle that intrigued him, and he was determined to uncover its secrets.
Elrond welcomed Gloin and his companions with the grace and dignity befitting the Lord of Rivendell. "We have been expecting your arrival, Master Gloin," he said, settling himself behind his desk and gesturing for them to sit.
Gloin, with a respectful nod towards Elrond, acknowledged the assistance they had received on their journey. "Indeed, Lord Elrond. We owe our safe passage in part to the elves of Mirkwood," he said, recalling the unexpected aid along the old forest road. His words carried a note of gratitude, tempered with the complex history shared between dwarves and elves.
Xena, listening quietly, raised an eyebrow slightly at Gloin's mention of the elves' assistance. She remembered the surprisingly clear passage they had through the old forest road, now realizing that Mirkwood elves had been subtly safeguarding their journey.
Elrond, turning his attention to Xena, inquired, before returning to Gloin "And what brings you far from the halls of Erebor, Master Gloin?"
Gloin, seizing the opportunity to speak, addressed Elrond's query. "The lands around the Lonely Mountain and Dale grow increasingly perilous, Lord Elrond. Orcs, goblins, and other dark creatures are on the rise. I trust Prince Legolas has informed you of the current situation in Mirkwood."
He paused for a moment before continuing, "Furthermore, a Nazgûl visited Erebor, offering the return of one of the Seven Rings in exchange for information about Bilbo Baggins. The shadow of some great evil looms over us, and I fear what is yet to come."
Elrond listened intently, his expression growing more solemn. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke. "Your report aligns with what we know of Mirkwood and the growing darkness. The presence of a Nazgûl in Erebor is indeed troubling."
He looked at Gloin and the rest of the company with a thoughtful gaze. "I suggest you and your company remain in Rivendell for now. Your presence may prove invaluable in the days to come. The forces at play are greater than any of us anticipated, and we must be prepared for what lies ahead."
Gloin, Xena, and Gimli exchanged glances, understanding the gravity of Elrond's words. The safety of Rivendell offered a temporary respite, but the shadows of a looming conflict were drawing ever closer. They knew that their stay in Imladris would not be just a sojourn, but a time to prepare for the challenges that awaited them in the unfolding story of Middle Earth.
Gloin rose gracefully, offering a respectful bow to Lord Elrond. "Indeed, we had intended to extend our stay in Rivendell," he acknowledged, his voice carrying a note of gratitude.
Elrond's gaze shifted between Xena and Gloin, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "It appears your journeys are intertwined once again," he observed. His familiarity with the various races of Middle-earth made Xena's unchanged appearance particularly intriguing to him.
Gloin nodded, a hint of pride in his voice as he spoke of Xena. "She has indeed become a dear friend, akin to family. There are matters she wishes to discuss with you, Lord Elrond."
Elrond reminisced with a gentle smile, "Ah, I recall the day Gimli and Xena first came to Rivendell. It seems like only yesterday." His tone was warm, and inviting yet not intrusive. "Fear not, Lady Xena, there will be time for your questions. For now, rest and rejuvenate. We shall converse more on the morrow."
With that, the group took their leave from Elrond's chamber, bowing in deference as they departed. They were led through the winding paths of Rivendell, each path revealing more of the hidden beauty of Elrond's domain. The architecture blended seamlessly with the natural landscape, the sound of water, and the rustle of leaves creating a symphony of tranquility.
Upon reaching their quarters, each member of the party was shown to their respective bed chambers. The accommodations were comfortable and inviting, furnished with soft beds, clean towels, and ropes. They were also informed of the location of the baths and the warm springs, inviting places for rest and contemplation.
Later, a meal of fresh vegetables and fruits was served, providing a nourishing end to their long journey. The food, simple yet sumptuous, was a testament to the hospitality of Rivendell.
As they settled in for the night, Xena found herself reflecting on the day's events. The promise of answers from Elrond lingered in her mind, a ray of hope in unraveling the mystery of her unchanging appearance. For now, though, she allowed herself to relax in the peaceful surroundings of Rivendell, ready to face whatever the morrow would bring.
Xena sat in her chamber in Rivendell, a room that exuded a tranquil elegance. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of nature and elven lore, while the windows opened to a view of the lush gardens and flowing streams of the valley. The furniture was of fine craftsmanship, made of wood that seemed to retain the essence of the living trees it came from. Soft, ethereal light filtered through the room, lending it a serene ambiance.
Her dinner, a spread of greenery and fruits, was a stark contrast to the hearty fare of Erebor. She nibbled on an apple, her appetite waning at the sight of so much foliage on her plate. "By the Gods, I miss Erebor," she mumbled, longing for the familiar comforts of the dwarven kingdom.
Her reverie was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. "Come in," she called, her voice carrying a sharpness that belied her contemplative mood.
The door opened to reveal an elven maiden with long dark hair and striking light blue eyes that sparkled in the dim light. Xena recognized her from her previous visit; she had been kind and helpful then. The elleth carried a basket filled with bath essentials – towels, robes, soap, and slippers.
The elleth set the basket down and explained, "My lady, these are for your use. The springs of Rivendell are located in the eastern parts, near a gorge of the river. Should you prefer a warm bath, each building in the northern part has one. Please place your garments in the velvet sack provided; I will collect them later for washing."
After arranging the basket, she smiled at Xena, "Is there anything else you require, my lady?"
Xena observed the elleth, Camaeneth, with an appreciative eye, noting the delicate features and grace that were characteristic of the elven folk. The silence in the room was filled with a quiet respect as she examined the contents of the basket. The generosity and hospitality extended by the elves of Rivendell were both surprising and heartening to her. Despite her previous reservations about elves, their kindness was undeniable.
Xena's past experiences, particularly with the Woodland Elves of Mirkwood, had led her to form certain prejudices. She had often found them aloof and self-absorbed, concerned more with their legacy than the troubles of others. Yet, the elves of Rivendell, the Half-elven, seemed different, challenging her preconceived notions.
Her thoughts briefly returned to Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood. Her encounters with him had always sparked a mixture of irritation and begrudging respect. The arrogance she perceived in him was a reflection of her broader view of Mirkwood elves. Yet, Rivendell was proving to be a place where such prejudices could be reexamined.
When addressed by the elleth, Xena replied with unexpected formality, "My name is Xena. No need for formalities, but thank you for your assistance. I don't require anything further."
Camaeneth, embodying the decorum of Rivendell, insisted on maintaining protocol. "We uphold etiquette with our guests, Lady Xena. As a maiden of Rivendell, I have to offer you our best hospitality. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."
Xena nodded, accepting the elleth's insistence on formality. "Then, Lady Camaeneth, I shall let you know if I need anything. Your help is much appreciated."
With a final smile and bow, Camaeneth left the chamber, leaving Xena to her thoughts. The mortal warrior found herself reflecting on the complexities of elven culture and her own evolving perceptions. Rivendell, with its serene beauty and the warmth of its inhabitants, was slowly unveiling new layers of understanding, challenging Xena to look beyond her past biases.
In her chamber in Rivendell, Xena pondered the day's events. The room was adorned with elegant carvings and tapestries that depicted the rich lore of the elves, and large windows open to views of the enchanting landscape outside. It was a perfect blend of artistry and nature, characteristic of elvish design.
She removed her gear, setting her blade and chakram aside. As she took off her boots, the scent of the day's travels filled the air, reminding her of the miles she had covered. Grabbing a towel, soap, robe, and velvet sack from the basket, she relished the cool touch of the stone floor beneath her feet, letting out a contented sigh.
Xena wandered through the hallways of Rivendell, seeking the warm springs. The night air was crisp, and the sounds of nature accompanied her steps. The path led her to an opening with a breathtaking view of the night sky, full of stars and a partially obscured moon. There, she noticed two figures in the distance – an ellon and an elleth, engaged in quiet conversation.
The Ellon, revealed by the moonlight, was Legolas, talking with Arwen. Xena's presence went unnoticed as she quietly went to the springs, contemplating the unexpected encounter.
At the springs, Xena found solace in the warm, clear waters, enveloped by the tranquility of Rivendell. After her bath, she donned the provided robe, her damp hair cascading down her back, giving her an ethereal appearance. Collecting her belongings, she retraced her steps back to her chamber.
Upon reaching the opening again, she unexpectedly locked eyes with Legolas. A moment of awkward silence ensued, filled with unspoken tension. Xena reached instinctively for her weapons, only to remember she was unarmed. Their gazes held confusion and annoyance, but neither spoke, choosing instead to maintain their silence.
Xena then sought out Camaeneth to hand over her laundry. Finding the elleth in the washing area, she offered the velvet sack, insisting on taking responsibility for her belongings. Camaeneth, surprised by Xena's gesture, thanked her for her kindness.
"Have a safe night, Lady Xena," Camaeneth said with a polite smile as she began to wash the clothes.
Xena, with a small smirk, nodded and left, her mind still mulling over the complexities of her stay in Rivendell. The encounter with Legolas lingered in her thoughts, a reminder of the unresolved tensions and mysteries that surrounded her in this land of elves.
The morning in Rivendell brought a new day of training and reunion for Legolas. He had learned from Arwen that Elladan and Elrohir had returned, and he looked forward to joining them at the training grounds. As he approached his chamber to retrieve his weapons, he stumbled upon an unexpected scene.
Inside, he found an elder elleth, her expression a mix of frustration and concern, speaking with Camaeneth. The elder maiden was holding his tunic, which bore an unfamiliar white stain. Her tone was one of gentle reprimand, directed at Camaeneth. "You allowed a stranger, one of Lord Elrond's guests, to assist with the washing?" she asked incredulously.
Camaeneth, caught in a rare moment of naivety, nodded apologetically. "How shall we explain this to the prince?" the elder maiden continued, her worry evident.
Xena, after bidding them goodnight, had stayed to help Camaeneth with the laundry. In her efforts to be helpful, she had inadvertently caused a stain on his tunic.
Stepping into the room, Legolas reassured the concerned maidens. "There is no cause for alarm. I can wear the tunic another day, and it can be rewashed then," he said, his tone light and unconcerned.
The maidens turned, surprised to see him. The elder one quickly explained, "Please forgive us, Prince Legolas. In her attempt to help, one of the guests inadvertently left a soap stain on your garments."
Legolas offered a small smile, putting them at ease. "There's nothing to forgive. It's a small matter, and I appreciate the help. Mistakes happen." His casual response and understanding attitude diffused the tension in the room.
As he gathered his belongings, Legolas reflected on the simplicity and harmony of life in Rivendell, where even small mishaps were handled with grace and understanding. The incident, though minor, was a reminder of the communal spirit that pervaded Elrond's house, where everyone, from prince to guest, contributed in their own way.
Camaeneth, with a gentle smile, reassured him "Lady Xena's intentions were kind, and that's what truly matters." His tone was understanding and forgiving, putting the elleth at ease.
As the ellith prepared to leave, Legolas' curiosity got the better of him. "Wait! Was it Lady Xena who caused the stain?"
Camaeneth, a touch of concern in her voice, confirmed his suspicion. "Yes, Prince Legolas. She offered to help with the laundry, and I accepted. She didn't mean any harm. I hope she won't be in any trouble, being a guest and all."
Legolas waved his hand dismissively, his demeanor calm. "No, no trouble at all. I was merely curious. You may leave now."
The ellith bowed again and left the room, leaving Legolas alone with his thoughts. The fact that Xena had inadvertently stained his tunic was a trivial matter, but her involvement intrigued him. A strange tension had marked their previous encounters, and now this unexpected connection through a mundane incident.
He collected his long knives and bow, pondering over the likelihood of a future encounter with Xena. Would their paths cross again under less contentious circumstances? He contemplated the complex weave of relationships in Rivendell, where even the smallest interactions could hold significance. As he prepared for his day, Legolas considered the possibility that their next meeting might bring an opportunity for understanding, rather than conflict.
The training grounds of Rivendell were a place of solace for Legolas and the sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. Away from the bustling life of the elven city, it was here they found quiet and peace, a sanctuary for honing their skills and fostering their deep bond.
As Legolas approached, Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances, each mirroring a hint of playful disbelief in their eyes. They fell into a brief, companionable silence upon seeing Legolas join them, his long knives sheathed at his back and his bow in hand.
Elladan, with a hint of mischief in his voice, teased Legolas, "We were beginning to think you'd lost your way. Or perhaps, you were waylaid by an admirer eager for your attention." He stood hands on hips, his expression one of mock seriousness.
Elrohir, not missing a beat, joined in the banter. "Nonsense, Elladan. Our young friend here was merely skulking, wary of the challenge he faces against our superior skill." His words were light, yet edged with the competitive spirit that often marked their training sessions.
Legolas, raising an eyebrow in response, offered a smirk. "Shall we then?" he said, gesturing with a small bow for them to lead the way. "Let our deeds on the training field speak for themselves."
The three warriors moved towards the range, their camaraderie evident in their jests and laughter. As they prepared to engage in their friendly contest of skill, the air was filled with the sounds of bows stringing and the soft thud of arrows finding their targets. In these moments of friendly rivalry and shared mastery, the bonds between Legolas and the sons of Elrond were further strengthened, each finding joy and respite in the other's company.
The training ground was alive with the energy and skill of the three elven warriors. Legolas, with his youthful agility and precision, effortlessly scaled a nearby pine tree, his movements fluid and sure. The targets were set at varying distances and heights, challenging each archer's skill and adaptability.
Legolas expertly notched an arrow to his bow, his focus unwavering. Despite his relative youth compared to Elladan and Elrohir, his prowess with the bow was unmatched. He moved from branch to branch with ease, his eyes always on the targets. With each leap and bound, he drew and released his arrows in swift succession, each shot a testament to his exceptional archery skills.
Elladan and Elrohir, moving with practiced coordination, followed Legolas through the pines. Their steps were swift, their movements a dance of speed and grace. Though they lacked Legolas' deadly precision, their technique was remarkably efficient, honed through centuries of practice. They communicated with subtle gestures, dividing their focus to cover different areas of the training ground.
The competition was friendly yet intense, a display of camaraderie and rivalry. Arrows whistled through the air, their flights punctuating the tranquility of the morning. Elladan focused his efforts on the eastern targets, while Elrohir covered the north, their arrows finding their marks with impressive accuracy.
The training session had drawn an audience; several of Rivendell's guards, along with other residents, had gathered to watch. The spectacle of Elrond's sons and the Prince of Mirkwood showcasing their archery was not an everyday occurrence. The onlookers were captivated, admiring the skill and camaraderie on display. It was a moment of joy and friendly competition, a celebration of the bond that united these warriors of Middle-earth.
As the morning progressed, the training grounds of Rivendell became a gathering place for more than just the elven warriors. Arwen, followed closely by Xena and Gimli, made their way to the area. Xena, who had only recently met Elrond's daughter, found herself admiring Arwen's ethereal beauty. The memory of seeing her converse with Legolas the previous night lingered in Xena's mind.
Arwen, with her innate grace, had suggested the idea of a tour after learning of Xena's interest in the training grounds. She knew that the friendly archery competition between her brothers and Legolas would be a spectacle worth witnessing. As they approached, the intense archery session was winding down, with Legolas emerging as the victor of this round.
Xena observed Legolas as he moved closer, noting the lightness and joy in his demeanor. It was a stark contrast to the stoic and sometimes pained expressions she remembered from their past encounters. Here, in the serene surroundings of Rivendell, he seemed rejuvenated, almost youthful. The burdens of his duties and the shadow of darkness that often hung over him appeared to be lifted, if only momentarily. The tranquil ambiance of Rivendell seemed to offer a respite, a brief escape from the weight of the world beyond its borders.
Gimli, standing beside Xena, watched the elves with a mixture of admiration and friendly rivalry. Despite his natural dwarven reserve towards elves, he couldn't help but acknowledge their skill and grace.
Arwen, smiling at the scene, turned to Xena and Gimli. "You've arrived just in time to see the conclusion of their contest," she said, her voice as melodious as the Rivendell streams.
The group stood together, united in a moment of peaceful observation, each lost in their thoughts but together in their appreciation of the skill and camaraderie displayed before them. In Rivendell, the lines between races blurred, allowing moments of shared joy and mutual respect.
Legolas, catching his breath after the spirited competition, straightened up and found himself face-to-face with Xena. She stood with her arms resting on her blade, her eyes narrowed in a challenging gaze. Despite her apparent desire to confront him, the presence of Elrond's children and the Rivendell guards made any hostile action impractical. Legolas, acknowledging her presence yet choosing not to engage, turned his attention to Arwen.
He was acutely aware of Xena's aggressive stance, the third time she seemed poised to draw her weapon against him. But Legolas was not inclined to test her resolve today. His own anger simmered beneath the surface, yet he recognized that this was neither the time nor the place for a confrontation.
Xena, however, was not to be so easily dismissed. She stepped in front of Legolas, blocking his path, and pressed her hand against his chest to command his attention. "Spar with me," she demanded, her voice firm. "Hand to hand, no weapons."
Her challenge drew the eyes of the gathered onlookers. Legolas gave her a bemused and slightly exasperated look. Shaking his head, he replied with a touch of irony, "I do not fight with children." His voice was soft yet carried the authority of his princely status. He offered her a small bow, gently tapped her arm, and stepped around her.
Internally, Legolas pondered over her challenge. Their paths had not crossed for decades, and yet her immediate desire was to engage him in physical combat. He resolved not to indulge her, keenly aware of their status as guests in Elrond's house. If Xena had lost sight of the decorum required in Rivendell, he would not follow suit. The Prince of Mirkwood maintained his composure, choosing to uphold the respect and dignity befitting his station and their surroundings.
Xena's emotions churned within her, a storm of disbelief and anger. Her hand unconsciously tightened around her chakram, her knuckles whitening with the grip. Elladan, noticing her agitation, approached and tried to offer some comfort. "It is not a personal slight, my lady. Legolas holds a policy of not sparring with guests," he said, his voice soothing.
"Legolas?" Xena echoed, her tone tinged with a mixture of sarcasm and bitterness. "He would do far worse," she muttered under her breath, causing the twins to exchange puzzled looks.
Meanwhile, Legolas was engaged in conversation with Arwen, standing near a pine tree a short distance away, his back to the group.
Elrohir joined them, his curiosity piqued. "You've met Legolas of Mirkwood before?" he asked, his interest evident in his tone.
"In another time, in a land far from here," Xena replied, her fingers still lingering on her chakram. She was perplexed by her own reaction, unable to fully comprehend the depth of her anger towards Legolas. It was more than an annoyance; it was a deep-seated resentment, the origins of which were not entirely clear to her.
As she stood there, the realization dawned on her that her emotions were tied to a past that was complex and layered. Her history with Legolas was not just a simple tale of comradeship; it was woven with challenges and conflicts that had left a lasting impact on her. The presence of Legolas in Rivendell had stirred these old feelings, bringing them to the surface in a way she had not anticipated.
In a moment that seemed out of character for Xena, her emotions got the better of her. It was as if a cloud descended upon her, obscuring her usual clarity and reason. Deep within, something inexplicable and uncontrolled surged, guiding her actions in a way that she herself could not comprehend.
Her intent had never been to cause harm to Legolas. Anger, yes, but actual physical harm had never crossed her mind. She sought his attention, a recognition of her presence that she felt was being deliberately ignored. In a split second, driven by this mysterious inner force, her chakram flew from her hand. It whirled through the air, ricocheting off nearby trees with a metallic clang, before striking Legolas on the arm, slicing through both fabric and flesh.
Almost immediately, Gimli's strong arms were around her, restraining her with a firm grip. The act, so sudden and violent, was unlike anything he had ever seen from Xena. For a moment, everyone was stunned into silence, the training ground eerily quiet.
Legolas, holding his injured arm, stepped forward to confront Xena, his blue eyes dark with a mix of pain and bewilderment. The blood from his wound was a stark contrast against his pale skin, a vivid reminder of the unexpected attack.
Xena, still in Gimli's hold, looked at Legolas, her expression one of shock and confusion. The sight of blood, his blood, brought her back to reality, and she realized the gravity of what she had done. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of her actions. It was as if a cloud had enveloped her thoughts, compelling her to act against her will, against her nature.
The onlookers, including Elladan and Elrohir, were equally shocked, unsure how to react to this sudden and unprovoked assault. The tranquility of the morning had been shattered, replaced by tension and uncertainty. In the midst of this confusion, questions hung in the air – what had driven Xena to such an extreme act, and what did it mean for the peace of Rivendell?
Legolas, struggling to contain his own rising anger, addressed Xena with a mix of disappointment and disbelief. "What drives you to such a low act? To strike like an orc, from behind and unprovoked?" His voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of frustration. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension and shock of the onlookers.
He found himself bewildered by Xena's actions. The Xena he knew, though stubborn and formidable, adhered to a warrior's code of honor and respect. This unexpected and uncharacteristic aggression left him not only angered but deeply confused.
Xena, held firmly in place by Gimli, seemed lost in her own tumultuous emotions. Despite Legolas' words, her fury did not abate. It was as if a well of rage had been tapped within her, a fury so intense that it clouded her judgment and actions. Her eyes, normally so sharp and clear, now seemed distant, clouded by an inexplicable rage.
She couldn't fathom why her anger was directed so fiercely at Legolas. She knew him and respected him as a fellow warrior, and yet, from the moment they reunited, her only impulse had been aggression. It was as if some unseen force was driving her to act against her nature.
Legolas, observing her turbulent state, spoke again, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "You are still young, and there is much about the world you do not understand. I will attribute your actions to this lack of understanding." His words were an attempt to find some rationale behind her behavior, to attribute it to youth and inexperience, rather than malice or true intent.
The situation was complex, and Legolas found himself grappling with a mixture of emotions – anger, confusion, and a lingering sense of concern for Xena. What had changed her so drastically? Was there more at play than met the eye? The tranquility of Rivendell had been disrupted, and the answers to these questions seemed as elusive as ever.
The guard, visibly concerned, addressed Legolas with a mixture of respect and disbelief. "My lord, are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes shifting between Legolas and Xena, trying to make sense of the situation.
Elladan, with a brotherly familiarity, clapped a hand on Legolas's shoulder, his tone light yet reassuring. "It would take far more than this to harm Legolas," he said, aiming to diffuse the tension and concern.
Legolas, managing a slight smile at Elladan's remark, turned to the guard. "There is no need for concern," he reassured him. "Let us consider this an insignificant accident, not worthy of further attention." His words carried the weight and authority of his princely status, reminiscent of his father Thranduil's commanding presence.
"As you wish, my lord," the guard replied, acknowledging Legolas's desire to downplay the incident.
Elladan, still beside Legolas, leaned in closer and whispered, "Aren't you the least bit curious about what caused her to act so rashly?" His smile hinted at his curiosity about the strange and sudden outburst from Xena.
"None whatsoever," Legolas replied quickly, his gaze fixed on Elladan, indicating his desire to leave the matter as it was.
Elladan, his eyes glinting with a touch of mischief, pressed further. "You wouldn't want to delve deeper into the matter, would you?"
"Absolutely not," Legolas affirmed, managing another small smile. "And let's keep this incident from your father," he added in a lower tone, half-jokingly. He understood the complexities of their current situation in Rivendell and preferred to avoid any unnecessary complications or escalations. Legolas sought to maintain the peace and harmony of Elrond's domain, even if it meant keeping this unusual altercation under wraps.
Xena's glare remained fixed on Legolas, her mind churning with a tumult of emotions. If not for Gimli's intervention, she might have escalated the confrontation further. Legolas' nonchalant attitude, treating the incident as something trivial and to be kept hidden, only fueled her inner turmoil. The voice in her head labeled him a 'sly elf,' reflecting her frustration and confusion.
Gimli, taking charge of the situation, pulled Xena away from the scene, already beginning to reprimand her for her uncharacteristic behavior. He knew well the principles of respect and decorum that were valued among the dwarves, and such an open assault on a guest, especially in Rivendell, was a grave matter.
As they moved away from the training ground, Xena felt the fog of anger that had clouded her mind start to lift. Her realization was immediate and alarming. She interrupted Gimli's scolding, voicing her concern. "Gimli, something is wrong. I don't like Legolas – his arrogance and pride annoy me – but I don't hate him."
Gimli, his brow furrowed in confusion, looked at her intently. "You attacked him without provocation. If you don't hate him, then why?" His tone was a mix of worry and seriousness. "I hardly recognize you, lass."
Xena's expression was one of genuine worry and confusion as she tried to make sense of her actions. "I'm serious, Gimli. Something isn't right. Whenever I'm near him lately, my judgment gets clouded, and I'm overwhelmed with anger. It's like I'm driven to reach for my weapons."
Gimli listened, his expression softening from confusion to concern. It was clear that Xena was struggling to understand her own actions, actions that were so out of character for her. She had always been a disciplined warrior, and her uncontrolled aggression towards Legolas was alarming, even to herself.
The revelation that her aggression might be something beyond her control added a new layer of complexity to the situation. The usual reasons for conflict – personal grievances or past experiences – didn't seem to fully explain her actions. As they continued to move away from the crowd, both Xena and Gimli were left pondering the mysterious and unexplained change in her behavior, wondering what unseen force could be influencing her actions in such a profound and disturbing way.
((Upcoming Chapter Forty-Seven))
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