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

Author's Note:

Warning: Concepts contained in this chapter include lewd moments! You have been warned! ;)


LXXVI: In the Embrace of Night


Woodland Realm, 3019 TA, May 30th

The darkness enveloped him, a perfect shroud of impenetrable black, akin to a visual form of silence that commanded a deep, almost sacred respect. In this obscurity, with his eyes closed, there existed a profound simplicity – the essence of merely being, of breathing. These moments stretched out with an elegant tranquility, lingering until the evening decided to paint the world with color once again.

Day by day, his soul felt itself being drawn further into an abyss, a deeper shade of darkness, under the unyielding grip of the curse. He was acutely aware of it now, its presence a constant shadow. What loomed ahead seemed increasingly grim, a path riddled with pain and devoid of escape.

He had witnessed the devastating effects of darkness on other kings and noblemen, and this filled him with concern for his father and his beloved homeland. Throughout his journey, he was determined to seek answers, to unravel the mystery of the curse. His thoughts were meticulously organized, a structured plan taking shape in his mind.

In the secret chambers of his heart, there was a growing desire for the human, Xena, to join him on these new travels. She had become a companion of profound significance, her importance resonating as deeply as his friendships with Gimli and Elessar. In her company, there was a sense of camaraderie and understanding that he treasured, a bond forged in the fires of shared trials and unwavering loyalty.

Before he could fully embrace the inevitability of his departure, to sail away in search of solace and peace, there were matters that demanded his attention. The weight of the darkness he endured was not merely painful; it was akin to torture. Yet, he remained, anchored by his concern for her. Though he had discerned that the curse's hold was not as grave as initially feared, his worry for Xena lingered. He longed for a moment to speak with her, to share the truths of his heart.

Additionally, the matter of Althea could not be left unresolved. Despite King Thranduil's counsel, Legolas felt compelled to see that justice was served. Althea's freedom to roam the halls of his father's kingdom, unchallenged and unaccountable for her actions, was unacceptable. Before he could leave Middle Earth behind, he knew he must ensure she faced the consequences of her deeds.

Her status as a noble Eldar, a member of the Elvenking's court, held no sway over Legolas's sense of justice. Diplomacy was not his path; he had no desire to don the mantle of a diplomat in matters where right and wrong were so clearly defined. Althea's transgressions required retribution, a fact he had momentarily overlooked amidst his own struggles. It was a loose end that needed to be tied, a final act of resolve before he could turn his thoughts to the journey that lay ahead, to the peace he sought beyond the undulating waves.

Legolas's thoughts then turned to the impending wedding of Aragorn and Arwen. This joyous event marked a union of two of his dearest friends, and his presence there was non-negotiable. He harbored a hope, perhaps more than just a hope, that Xena would accompany him to the celebration. Her presence had grown to mean much more to him than mere companionship.

Gimli, his steadfast and loyal friend, would undoubtedly be at his side. The bond he shared with Gimli was forged in the fires of countless adventures and trials. It was a friendship that had transcended the boundaries of race and expectation, one that Legolas valued deeply.

But Xena, the human who had unexpectedly entered his life and become an integral part of it, now held a special place in his heart. What had started as a bond forged through shared challenges and experiences had blossomed into something deeper, a connection that he was only just beginning to understand and acknowledge?

Despite these ties that anchored him to Middle Earth, the specter of the curse lingered over Legolas. The pain and torment it brought were constant reminders of the peace that might await him in the Undying Lands. While he was determined to endure, to fight against the darkness that sought to envelop him, the future seemed fraught with uncertainty.

For now, Legolas resolved to focus on the tasks at hand — to stand by his friends at their wedding, to confront the situation with Althea, and to navigate the complex emotions that Xena's presence evoked. Yet, in the back of his mind, the possibility of seeking refuge in the Grey Havens remained a distant yet ever-present thought, a final sanctuary if the shadows around him grew too deep.

Legolas sat reclined in his armchair, the soft glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows across his thoughtful expression. His usually neatly braided hair was undone, cascading loosely over his shoulders, lending him an air of casual dishevelment. Clad in his robes, he had resigned himself to spending the evening and night within the solitude of his chambers, bracing for the nightly ordeal brought on by the curse.

The pain inflicted by the curse lent a certain intensity to his ethereal Elven features, a juxtaposition of suffering and innate beauty. Tonight, his usual calm seemed frayed at the edges, perhaps a consequence of the curse's deepening darkness, or maybe due to the increasingly complicated feelings he harbored for Xena.

Despite his noble lineage and the expectations of his station, Legolas was, at his core, a young Elf of the Woodland Realm, governed by passions and desires as any would be. This night, in particular, found him restless, his thoughts persistently drifting towards Xena. These were not musings he was entirely comfortable with, for they stirred a tumult within him that he struggled to reconcile with his duties and responsibilities.

The more time he spent with her, the more he realized the depth of his feelings, and emotions that transcended the boundaries of friendship. It was a realization that both intrigued and unsettled him. As an Elf of noble birth, he was expected to maintain a certain decorum, yet the fires that burned within him, especially this night, spoke of a different longing, a yearning that was profoundly personal and increasingly difficult to ignore.

If the circumstances had been different, if Xena were not ensnared by the spell and free to be her true self, Legolas knew he would have sought her out without hesitation. The truth was, his desire to interact with her extended far beyond mere conversation.

In his mind's eye, he imagined a scenario where they could speak openly, without the shadow of the curse looming over them. He pictured a candid exchange of thoughts and feelings, a chance to explore the connection that seemed to have developed between them. Yet, in his heart, he acknowledged that his yearning went deeper than just words.

Legolas found himself contemplating more than just dialogue with Xena. He envisioned moments of shared laughter and understanding, perhaps walks in the moonlit gardens of the Woodland Realm, or quiet evenings by the fire. His thoughts dared to venture even further, to a place where he could express his growing affection for her, not just in words but through actions – a gentle touch, a meaningful glance, maybe even a tender embrace.

These thoughts, while stirring a sense of excitement and longing within him, also brought a tinge of frustration. The reality of their situation, with Xena bound by the spell and the complexities it entailed, placed a barrier between them that he could not easily overcome. For now, these imagined encounters would remain just that – figments of his longing, held close in the quiet solitude of his chambers, as he braced himself for another night under the curse's oppressive shadow.

As the night deepened, the quiet of his chambers became a canvas for his thoughts, each one etching a deeper yearning for what could not be. The gentle crackling of the fire and the soft glow it cast across the room only served to accentuate the solitude that enveloped him.

Legolas's mind, usually so disciplined and focused, now wandered through the realms of 'what ifs'. He thought of conversations filled with laughter and earnestness, of shared silences that spoke volumes, and of moments where their eyes might meet in unspoken understanding. He imagined scenarios where he could reveal the depth of his feelings to Xena, unburdened by the curse or the weight of his princely duties.

Yet, amidst these wandering thoughts, a sense of duty and reality anchored him. He was acutely aware of the responsibilities that rested upon his shoulders, not only as the son of Thranduil but as a prince of the Woodland Realm. There was a balance he had to maintain, a fine line between personal desires and the expectations of his station.

The night wore on, bringing with it the familiar signs of the curse's torment. Legolas steeled himself, drawing upon his inner strength and the training that had always served him well. In these moments of trial, he found a resolve, a determination to endure, fueled by the hope that one day the curse would be lifted, and perhaps, in that newfound freedom, there would be a chance to explore the possibilities that now danced like shadows in his mind.

As dawn approached, bringing with it the promise of a new day, Legolas's thoughts slowly shifted from the realm of dreams back to the reality of his situation. He knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but the thought of Xena, her strength, and the bond they shared, offered a glimmer of hope in the encroaching darkness. With that hope cradled in his heart, he prepared to face whatever the new day would bring.

Xena's turmoil, though no longer fueled by the curse, was now rooted in a different kind of pain – the heartache of knowing she must distance herself from Legolas. The realization that she had to uphold her promise to Althea and keep away from him had cast a shadow over her spirit. In moments of introspection, she found herself grappling with her own nature, the part of her that was willing to sacrifice personal happiness for a greater cause.

As evening approached, she had initially resolved to speak with Legolas, to lay bare her feelings before the inevitable separation. Yet, as the moment drew near, doubt crept in. How could she confess her emotions only to walk away? How could she ask for his trust, then set off on a quest leaving him behind? Her thoughts were a tangled web, each strand pulling her in a different direction, leaving her heart heavy with indecision.

Despite the confusion that clouded her mind, Xena knew one thing for certain – she couldn't leave things unsaid, couldn't depart without some form of farewell. Legolas deserved that much. He deserved an explanation, however incomplete or unsatisfactory it might be.

So, with a heavy heart, Xena steeled herself for the conversation ahead. She would find Legolas, speak to him with as much honesty as her promise allowed, and try to convey the depth of her feelings without revealing the full extent of Althea's machinations. It would be a delicate balance, a dance of words and emotions, but it was a step she had to take. For both their sakes, she needed to bridge the gap between them, even if it was to say goodbye.

Under the shroud of night, Althea arrived as she had promised, her demeanor somber, bearing an old, worn map and a collection of notes gathered from the alchemist. Xena half-expected her not to honor the meeting, but it seemed Althea had few options left. Their exchange was devoid of conversation; Althea handed over the map and notes, her eyes avoiding Xena's gaze. She reminded Xena of the few days she had to distance herself from Legolas, as per their agreement.

The irony of the situation was not lost on Xena. There had been no formal start to any romance with Legolas, yet these days granted by Althea were a bittersweet gift. Instead of seeking out Legolas immediately, Xena decided to confer with King Thranduil, who was already poring over his own maps, considering potential routes for the journey.

Upon her arrival in Thranduil's study, Xena found the Elvenking deep in contemplation, his fingers tracing possible paths across the parchment.

Xena greeted, unrolling the map and notes she had received. "Althea has provided these. They might hold the key to our journey."

Thranduil looked up, his keen eyes studying the materials. "Let us see what secrets they hold," he said, beckoning Tauriel and Haldir to join them.

The four of them spent hours examining the map and notes, discussing potential dangers, and strategizing their course. Tauriel, ever the pragmatic warrior, pointed out various pitfalls and obstacles they might encounter.

"We should avoid the Marshes of Nindalf," Tauriel suggested. "They are treacherous and easy to lose one's way."

Haldir, with his experience in reconnaissance, added, "The mountain passes could be swifter, but they are often watched by lingering foes. We must weigh speed against safety."

Thranduil, his gaze fixed on the map, nodded in agreement. "Our path must be cunningly chosen. We tread a land still scarred by war."

Xena listened intently, absorbing their knowledge and expertise. "I trust your judgment," she said. "I may not know these lands as you do, but I will follow where you lead."

As dawn began to break, a plan started to take shape, a route cautiously plotted through Middle Earth's perilous terrains. The journey to the Southernlands would be fraught with danger, but with the combined skills and wisdom of her companions, Xena felt a cautious optimism.

With their course set, Xena's thoughts inevitably drifted back to Legolas. She knew that before setting out, she must find the courage to face him, to share a parting that would be as painful as it was necessary.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the trees of the Woodland Realm, their planning session came to a close with a decision to depart in three days. Xena, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, found herself instinctively wandering the halls, her steps eventually leading her to Legolas's chamber.

She paused outside his door, her gaze lingering on the wood as if it were a barrier to an inevitable confrontation. With a deep breath, she knocked softly. Upon hearing a voice from within, she entered, quietly closing the door behind her and securing it.

The room was dimly lit, the early morning light casting a gentle glow. Legolas sat in his armchair, a figure of contemplative solitude. His eyes, which initially held a distant look, focused intently on Xena as she approached.

Her stride was steady, her gaze unwavering. There was a palpable change in her demeanor, a seriousness that Legolas had not seen in her since the curse took hold. As she stood before him, their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a realization dawned on him. The playful malice, the childlike whims that had characterized her behavior under the spell's influence, were absent. The curse had lifted.

The air between them was charged with unspoken words and emotions. Legolas, his heart aflutter with a mix of relief and apprehension, waited for Xena to speak. This moment, free from the shadow of the curse, held a significance that neither of them could ignore. It was a crossroads, a point where the paths of their hearts and destinies converged, awaiting the words that would set their course.

In that moment of stillness, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the intensity of their shared gaze. A multitude of emotions swirled between them – unspoken, yet powerfully present. They were both acutely aware of the undercurrents of feeling that flowed beneath the surface, yet neither dared to give voice to them, knowing the potential pain such admissions could bring.

Eventually, Legolas rose from his chair, his tall, Elven stature casting a looming presence over Xena. His eyes, usually so calm and composed, now held a tempestuous depth, a look that Xena had never seen in him before. It was as if the layers of princely decorum and restraint had been peeled back, revealing a raw, more primal aspect of his being.

Xena, caught in the intensity of his gaze, felt a stirring within her. She could have chosen to address his pain, to delve into the depths of his suffering and offer solace. Instead, she found herself drawn into this new, uncharted dynamic that Legolas presented. It was a game of silent understanding, a dance of deepening connection that neither needed to define.

As they continued to lock eyes, time seemed to stretch on indefinitely. Words were unnecessary; their mutual understanding transcended language. Legolas moved towards her with a grace that belied the tumult within him. His steps were measured, each one closing the distance between them, his focus solely on Xena.

When he reached her, Legolas wrapped his left arm around her, pulling her into an embrace that was both protective and possessive. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, an unspoken assurance that in this embrace, they found a refuge, a haven from the complexities and challenges of the world outside.

Xena, enveloped in his embrace, felt a surge of emotion. In Legolas's arms, there was a sense of safety, of belonging. For a moment, all the weight of promises made, duties to fulfill, and curses to break, seemed to dissolve. In that embrace, they found a moment of peace, a fleeting sanctuary where their hearts could speak without words, where the connection they shared was enough to sustain them, if only for a while.

The curse that plagued Legolas, a shadow that often clouded his existence, seemed for the moment to recede into the background. In this rare respite, he resolved to not let the darkness dominate him, to seize this time with Xena, to be present with her.

As he leaned in, their lips met in a tender, yet intense, embrace. The contrast between the warmth of his lips and the coolness of hers was striking, like fire meeting ice, each bringing a distinct essence to the union. Xena's initial reaction was one of resistance, her hands pressing against his chest as if to maintain a distance between them. But Legolas's persistence, the firm press of his lips against hers, held a silent plea, a longing that sought to bridge the gap widening between them.

Xena's struggle was not born of reluctance to be in his arms or to return his affections, but from the burden of the secret she carried – the knowledge that their paths were about to diverge once more, under circumstances she could not yet reveal. The intensity of the moment, however, overpowered her resolve. She surrendered to the kiss, her resistance melting away as she became lost in the sensation, the connection that they shared.

As they kissed, a whirlwind of emotions surged through Xena. Her heart raced, skipped, then raced again, caught in the gravity of the moment. Legolas, in his embrace, shone with a brilliance that eclipsed the looming shadows, if only for a while.

When the kiss finally broke, a shared breathlessness hung between them. Legolas gently kissed Xena's forehead, a tender gesture that spoke of affection and care. He drew her closer, wrapping her in an embrace that felt like a sanctuary. In his arms, the weight of unspoken truths and impending separations faded into the background, replaced by a sense of belonging and a connection that defied the challenges they faced.

For now, they held onto each other, finding comfort and strength in their shared embrace, each moment precious, each second a treasure in the uncertain journey that lay ahead.

Xena raised her arm and gradually parted his hair to show his face. Her eyes expanded in response to the radiance of his skin. She indecently snatched a kiss from him before stealing another. Legolas returned her kisses, grinning as he did so. He gently turned her so that her back was towards the mattress. He stopped and looked at her for a bit. His issues were already forgotten, and her concerns had been put to rest.

They exchanged sensual stares that were as lengthy and intense as they could be. Everything that began so delicately and smoothly grew fierce and solid. They separate and take trembling weak breaths. Legolas, unable to restrain himself, took her head in his hands and dragged her into a searing, passionate kiss. Xena smiled knowing that Legolas was ready to attempt to seduce her. The kiss induced electric tingles and a need to play. She encircled him with her hands, anticipating more than she had bargained for. Today, she may play the role of wicked.

She was as interested in seducing him as he was in seducing her. With the kiss came the soft, balanced touch of her body, which was the ideal combination of relaxation and tension. Slowly and violently, tension surged among them. The temptation already existed. It was always written in their eyes: chemistry, a love seed, and an invitation to discover more about the other. Tonight was an opportunity for their bodies to express themselves without the need for words.

"Alas, Xena," Legolas whispered softly, a tone of longing in his voice. In this moment, he found himself caught in the thrall of a profound and passionate affection for her, a feeling that seemed to eclipse all else. For once, he allowed himself to be guided by his heart, to savor the present, setting aside the burdens and concerns that so often weighed upon him.

In the privacy of his chamber, they stood close, the air between them charged with unspoken emotions. Legolas gently reached for the edges of her robe, easing it from her shoulders in a gesture that was as much about revealing the truth of their hearts as it was about physical closeness. Xena's hands moved to his attire, her fingers working deftly to unfasten his robe, revealing the warrior beneath.

For a brief time, they could set aside the scars of their past, the wounds and sorrows they each carried. Tonight was about them, about exploring the depth of their feelings for each other, unfettered by the outside world.

Xena, under Legolas's tender guidance, found herself lost in the moment. Her breath quickened, and her heart raced as his hands traced the contours of her body with a reverence that spoke of deeper emotions. Legolas's eyes, a mesmerizing shade of grey-blue, held her gaze, drawing her into an unspoken promise of understanding and connection.

In that moment, time and place seemed to fade away. There was only Legolas, only this connection that transcended words, a bond that was as profound as it was unexpected. The world outside, with its trials and tribulations, receded into the background, leaving only the truth of what they felt for each other.

In that intimate space, the connection between Legolas and Xena transcended the physical, becoming something more profound, akin to an intoxicating elixir that bound them together. Each touch, each look, deepened the sense of enchantment they shared, drawing them further into a realm of shared passion and understanding.

The air around them seemed charged with electric energy, the very essence of their beings intermingling in a dance of closeness and emotion. It was as if they had tapped into a primal force, one that coursed through them with an intensity that was both overwhelming and exhilarating. At this moment, they surrendered to the tide of their feelings, allowing themselves to be swept away by the sheer power of their connection.

Their laughter and soft exchanges punctuated the silence, echoing beyond the confines of Legolas's chamber, a testament to the joy and liberation they found in each other's presence. For Xena, it was a moment of profound release, a liberation from the constraints of thought and duty. Legolas, in turn, radiated only passion and depth, a beacon drawing her further into the depths of their shared experience.

The room, once cool and shadowed, now felt warm and alive with their presence. Time seemed to stand still, yet also raced forward, as they navigated the delicate balance between savoring the moment and surrendering to the culmination of their shared desire.

In the stillness that followed, their souls seemed to entwine, a melding of spirits as profound as the joining of their bodies. In the aftermath of such intensity, there was a sense of unity, a feeling of being part of something greater than themselves. It was a night that neither would soon forget, a memory etched into the very fabric of their beings, a testament to the depth of their connection and the transformative power of their love.

After a night filled with shared experiences and unspoken understandings, both Legolas and Xena found themselves enveloped in deep fatigue. It was the kind of weariness that comes from a profound journey of emotional and physical connection. For Legolas, it was a rare respite, a moment where he could find peace and escape the grip of his curse. He closed his eyes, feeling a peace he hadn't known in a long while, with Xena resting beside him, a comforting presence in his arms.

Xena, too, was caught in the embrace of sleep, her body and mind yielding to exhaustion after a night that was as draining as it was exhilarating. She nestled close to Legolas, finding solace in the warmth and safety of his embrace.

The day that followed was one of quietude. Noon came and went, and evening faded into night again, yet they remained in the seclusion of Legolas's chamber. There was little need for words; their actions and shared experiences had spoken volumes. The need for conversation, for addressing the realities that awaited them, lingered at the edge of their consciousness, but for now, it was kept at bay.

It was only on the following day, after a long and restful sleep, that they would face the necessity of conversation. There was much to discuss, decisions to be made, and truths to be shared. The talk that awaited them would not be easy, but for the moment, those concerns were distant.

In the stillness of the night, they lay together, lost in the comfort of each other's arms. The darkness of the room seemed to embrace them, a fitting cocoon for two souls who had found a temporary escape from the trials of their lives. They surrendered to sleep, allowing the night to claim them, content in the knowledge that, for now, they had each other.

((Upcoming Chapter Seventy-Seven))

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