Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters or settings from Lord of the Rings or Xena the Warrior Princess
Author's Note:
XLVIII: The Unseen Friendships
Rivendell, 3018 TA September 5th
As the dawn's first light softly touched the world of Middle Earth, the chamber of Prince Legolas remained dim, the thick curtains holding back the eager sun. Within, Legolas himself lay in deep slumber, an uncommon state for an elf. His unbound hair cascaded over the pillows, creating a silken veil of gold against the white sheets. His tunic, leggings, and boots were scattered haphazardly around the room, evidence of a restless night.
Beneath the linen sheets, the prince's back bore the marks of battles past—a slender, silver scar glistened in the stray beams of sunlight, a lasting reminder of the curse that once bound his mother. Beside it, a newer wound, slowly healing, was stark evidence of yesterday's unforeseen conflict.
The incident weighed heavily on Legolas' mind. The thought that Xena, a comrade he had once fiercely protected, could now turn against him with such vehemence was both puzzling and disturbing. Had the passing years altered her so profoundly, warping her once noble spirit into something unrecognizable? This question lingered unanswered as Legolas sought solace in the rare embrace of sleep.
Meanwhile, the lively bustle of morning life stirred in Elrond's house. Guests and inhabitants alike gathered for the morning meal, filling the dining area with the sounds and scents of a new day. Xena, undertaking the tasks assigned as her penance, assisted Camaeneth in collecting the laundry from the guest chambers. The previous night, she had left her chakram and sword with Gimli, a precaution against the unpredictable surge of aggression that seemed to possess her in Legolas' presence.
Her mind was a whirlwind of contemplation. The previous day's events replayed in her thoughts, her uncharacteristic loss of control deeply troubling her. Once, she had been an agent of chaos, a bringer of destruction. Now, as she moved quietly among the chambers of Rivendell, she pondered the dark influence that seemed to lurk within her, a shadow waiting to emerge.
In the sprawling corridors of Rivendell, Xena moved with a quiet purpose, her thoughts as much a part of her journey as her physical steps. Her time in Middle Earth had been marked by a blend of honorable deeds and moments of self-interest, a reflection of her complex nature. She had strived to right her wrongs and to aid those in need, yet she was not immune to misjudgments and mistakes. Her recent uncharacteristic aggression towards Legolas was a stark reminder of this fallibility.
As she navigated the levels of Rivendell, the lively clamor of breakfast echoed through the halls. Xena knew the dwarves, including Gimli, would already be gathered in the dining area, indulging in hearty meals and perhaps indulging in their favorite pastime of jesting about the Elves of Mirkwood, particularly Prince Legolas. Under normal circumstances, Xena might have joined them, sharing in the light-hearted banter.
However, the previous day's incident had cast a shadow over these usual interactions. Gimli, despite his own reservations about the Woodland Elves, had recognized the gravity of Xena's actions. As guests in Elrond's house, there were lines not to be crossed. A jest was one thing, but an outright assault was quite another. Gimli's reaction to her attack on Legolas had been driven more by the need to uphold decorum than by any fondness for the Elven Prince.
Xena had confided in Gimli about the curse, explaining the unusual aggression she had felt. Gimli's response was a mix of concern and confusion, but he had offered his support, agreeing to stand by her side. Xena had opted not to delve too deeply into the details with Gimli, preferring to keep the matter somewhat confidential until she could consult with Gandalf. For now, she focused on fulfilling the tasks assigned to her as part of her punishment, all the while maintaining a cautious distance from Legolas.
Xena moved methodically, her duties as a chamber maiden temporarily overshadowing her warrior's instincts. The tasks, though mundane, were a stark contrast to her usual endeavors. Camaeneth, with her amiable and helpful nature, guided Xena through the chores, softening the edges of what could have been a tedious punishment.
Upon entering the last room on her list, Xena was immediately struck by the disarray. Clothes and books were strewn haphazardly, creating a surprising chaos that seemed at odds with the typical elven elegance. With a hint of amusement, she thought of the dwarves and their often untidy habits. Methodically, she began collecting the scattered items, placing them into the velvet sack with an efficiency born of her many years of experience in various roles and adventures.
As she drew back the curtains, letting in the morning light, a rush of familiar scents filled the room - the refreshing aroma of summer rain mixed with the earthy scent of pine. These were scents that spoke of nature's healing powers, of tranquility and timelessness. They were comforting yet unfamiliar, reminiscent of the forests of Mirkwood.
Xena's realization came as a jolt. The room's occupant was no dwarf but an elf, and not just any elf, but likely one from Mirkwood. Elves, it seemed, were not immune to the occasional lapse in tidiness. As this revelation sank in, she turned, her eyes adapting to the brightness of the sun-filled room.
There, in the midst of the room's disarray, lay the guest, still ensconced in deep slumber on the bed. The identity of the room's occupant dawned on Xena, bringing with it a mix of surprise and a trace of irony. In this unexpected setting, her thoughts momentarily drifted, pondering the commonalities and differences that bridged and divided the diverse inhabitants of Middle Earth.
Legolas, still enveloped in the remnants of sleep, sensed the presence in the room. His elven instincts, honed over centuries, immediately alerted him to the unusual situation. He sat up, the silk sheets hastily gathered to maintain his dignity, his back still turned to the intruder. The air in the room felt different, charged with a tension that was unfamiliar in the usually serene halls of Rivendell.
Xena, for her part, stood frozen, her shoulder pressed against the cool wood of the window. Her eyes were locked onto the figure on the bed, realization dawning with a mix of surprise and awkwardness. It was Legolas, the very elf she had been actively avoiding, now inadvertently in her presence in the most private of settings. Her mind raced, torn between the protocol of quietly excusing herself and the raw curiosity that held her in place.
Legolas, feeling the weight of her gaze, slowly turned his head, his own expression mirroring her surprise. Their eyes met, a myriad of unspoken words passing between them in that brief exchange. The moment was laden with a complex blend of past conflicts, recent misunderstandings, and the uncharted territory of their current situation.
For a beat, neither spoke, the silence stretching into a palpable entity. Xena's mind whirred, debating her next move, while Legolas, still partially shrouded in the bed's silk, maintained a composed yet cautious demeanor. In this unexpected encounter, away from the prying eyes of Rivendell's other inhabitants, both stood on the precipice of a conversation that could potentially bridge the gap formed by years and circumstance, or widen it further.
Xena's tone, laced with a hint of mockery, hung in the air as she faced Legolas. Her words, intended to lighten the tension, carried a defiance that belied the unease she felt. It was a delicate balance, maintaining the semblance of control in a situation that was anything but ordinary.
Legolas, still wrapped in the silk sheets, watched her with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the facade. His expression, a blend of indignation and disbelief, shifted subtly as he processed her words. The prince of Mirkwood was not accustomed to such intrusions, nor to being the subject of jest.
"Your humor is misplaced," Legolas replied, his voice steady but with an underlying edge. "This is not the conduct expected of a guest in Rivendell."
Xena, aware of the growing tension, felt the urge to retaliate, to let the anger seeping through her defenses find voice. But she held back, remembering her recent conversation with Elrond and the mysterious influence of the curse that seemed to be at play. She needed to tread carefully, to not let the anger dictate her actions.
"I apologize for the intrusion," she said, her tone more measured now. "It was not my intention to overstep. I was performing my assigned duties."
Legolas regarded her for a moment longer, his gaze unwavering. The usual ease and grace of the elven prince seemed to have been momentarily eclipsed by the awkwardness of the situation.
"Very well," he said finally, breaking the eye contact. "See that it does not happen again."
In the stillness of his chamber, Legolas sat deep in thought, his mind reeling from the brief but intense encounter with Xena. The expression he had glimpsed on her face, a mix of darkness and internal conflict, struck a familiar chord within him, awakening memories of his mother's troubled past.
The way Xena's eyes had seemed to look through him as if she were lost in a world of her own dark thoughts, unsettled him. It was a look he had seen before, in those haunted by shadows and unspoken fears. The elf prince couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her behavior than mere animosity.
Legolas pondered the strange dynamics of their relationship. Once, they had been allies, fighting side by side. Now, an inexplicable tension and hostility had crept in, creating a chasm between them. The change in Xena was abrupt and unexplained, leaving him with more questions than answers.
He considered the possibility of a deeper, unseen force at play. The notion of a curse, one that could alter behavior and cloud judgment, lingered in his thoughts. It was a realm of magic and darkness that he was reluctant to delve into, yet it seemed increasingly plausible given the circumstances.
Determined to understand the root of this change, Legolas resolved to seek counsel. Perhaps Lord Elrond, with his vast wisdom and knowledge of ancient lore, could shed light on the situation. Or maybe Gandalf, whose arrival in Rivendell was anticipated, would have insights into the matter. As he stood up, Legolas made a silent vow to himself. He would not let the shadows of the past, nor the mysteries of the present, cloud his judgment or sway his actions.
Seated amidst the tranquil ambiance of the dining area, Xena's presence stood in stark contrast to the serene elves around her. The past few days had been a whirlwind of chores and silent contemplations, punctuated by Camaeneth's curious inquiries about the incident with Legolas. Xena had grown somewhat accustomed to the elf maiden's company, though she remained wary of delving too deep into personal matters.
As she sat lost in her thoughts, a new figure approached and took a seat beside her. It was Elladan, one of Lord Elrond's sons. His appearance was striking, embodying the grace and nobility characteristic of Elvenkind. His long, dark hair flowed down his back, partially braided in the style of the Elves of Rivendell. His attire was both elegant and functional, consisting of a finely woven tunic in shades of deep green and brown, accentuated by intricate embroidery that spoke of his high status. Over this, he wore a light, well-crafted leather jerkin, which was both a mark of his skill as a warrior and his role as a protector of Rivendell.
Elladan's keen eyes, which mirrored the depth and wisdom of ancient forests, observed Xena with a mixture of curiosity and understanding. He held a demeanor that balanced the regality of his heritage with the approachability of a seasoned traveler, a trait perhaps honed by his numerous ventures beyond the borders of Rivendell.
Xena's gaze lingered on Elladan, noting the contrasts and similarities between him and the elves of Mirkwood. Elladan's demeanor, though marked by the inherent grace of his kind, seemed more grounded and approachable, a refreshing change from the aloofness she had often encountered in Thranduil's realm.
"Stubborn and full of surprises," Elladan remarked, catching Xena's attention with his sudden statement. She turned towards him, a curious tilt to her head. "I once asked Legolas to describe you. I thought perhaps he was exaggerating, but meeting you now, I see he was quite accurate."
"So, Legolas has spoken of me then?" Xena inquired, a hint of curiosity creeping into her voice despite her efforts to appear nonchalant. Her experience with Legolas had been a blend of cooperation and conflict, and she wondered what narrative had been relayed to Elladan.
Elladan chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mirth and insight. "In bits and pieces over the years. It seems your paths have been quite intertwined. He mentioned your courage and resourcefulness, but also a certain... tension between you two."
Xena couldn't help but smirk at this diplomatic description. "Tension might be an understatement," she responded dryly. "Our paths have indeed crossed in ways that were both challenging and unexpected."
Elladan nodded thoughtfully, sensing the undercurrents in her words. "Middle-earth is a land of many wonders and trials. It's rare to find someone who can navigate its complexities with such adaptability. You've certainly made an impression, Xena."
Her expression softened slightly at the acknowledgement. "Middle-earth has been... an unexpected journey," she admitted. "One that's tested me in ways I never anticipated."
As they continued their conversation, Xena found herself gradually opening up more than she had intended. Elladan's genuine interest and empathetic demeanor made it easier for her to share snippets of her adventures and challenges. She remained guarded about the more personal aspects of her journey, particularly the recent troubles concerning the curse, but she appreciated the opportunity to converse with someone who understood the nuances of living in such a diverse and complex world.
"He thinks so?" Xena arched an eyebrow skeptically. "By now, he should realize that it's more than just thinking. After all, I'm not the one nursing an injury." Her words carried a mix of pride and jest, but as they echoed in the air, a hint of regret shadowed her expression.
Elladan's demeanor shifted to a more solemn tone. "I wouldn't consider that a triumph, Lady Xena," he replied, his gaze steady. "Striking from behind isn't the act of honor, and from what I've gathered about you, that's not your typical way."
Xena held his gaze for a moment, reflecting on his words. "Seems your friend is quite the conversationalist among his own," she remarked with a slight edge in her voice, realizing that Legolas had been more open about their adventures with the sons of Elrond than with her. "But you're right. It was a thoughtless act."
Elladan shook his head, his expression conveying a mix of understanding and curiosity. "You know, my lady, trees adapt to their environment. Their branches sway with the wind and bend in the rain, yet the tree itself remains steadfast through the years. Change happens, but the roots stay true. It takes years for a tree to gain such strength, but once it does, it rarely wavers."
As Xena continued with her meal, Elladan's analogy lingered in the air. "Some trees never grow strong enough to withstand the elements, but you, Lady Xena, seem like one with deep roots. The respect you've garnered from the dwarves speaks volumes. It suggests that something other than your own will drove you to harm Legolas."
Xena paused mid-chew, considering Elladan's observations. She was aware of the sons of Elrond's wisdom and their ventures with the Rangers of the North, alongside the now-grown Estel. The thought that Estel, once just a child during her earlier days in Middle Earth, might be living a life beyond normal human years piqued her curiosity.
"You witnessed the incident yourself. You saw it was me who acted," Xena replied, cautiously steering the conversation away from the sensitive topic of the curse. She hoped Lord Elrond had kept their earlier discussion private, but she couldn't be certain the sharp eyes of Elrond's sons hadn't picked up on something amiss.
"I was there, indeed," Elladan leaned in slightly, his voice carrying a mix of concern and inquisitiveness. "And what I saw was a display of anger and hatred that didn't seem to fit with the person I've come to learn about. It didn't feel like it was truly a part of you." His gaze was probing, searching for the truth beneath the surface. Elladan had noticed the abrupt shift in Xena's demeanor during the incident, a change that went beyond mere anger. It was as if another presence had influenced her actions.
Xena's gaze briefly scanned the area, ensuring their conversation remained private. Despite her typical aversion to being ordered around, Elladan's assertive tone and the gravity of the situation compelled her to sit back down.
"I may not be able to control this... whatever it is," she conceded, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I've spoken with your father about it. We're waiting for Gandalf's return for more insight."
Elladan's expression remained serious. "And until then? You'll just hope not to cross paths with Legolas, to avoid any further incidents?"
She hesitated, knowing any justification might sound hollow in the face of such wisdom. "I want answers, yes. But if my presence here is a threat, then perhaps leaving is the wiser choice," Xena admitted, her tone reflecting a mix of reluctance and concern.
Elladan nodded, understanding the complexity of her situation. "Your safety and that of others here is paramount. We'll find a way to manage this until Gandalf arrives. In the meantime, it's best to minimize any risks." His words were firm yet empathetic, recognizing the struggle she was enduring.
Elladan's expression softened as he listened to Xena, his eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and concern. "You see, Xena, Legolas is not one to readily acknowledge his vulnerabilities, especially those influenced by dark forces. The curse's impact on him was significant, though he may never openly admit it," he explained.
Xena shifted in her seat, her posture relaxing slightly as she pondered Elladan's words. "I know he's strong, and I know about the burden he carried. But understanding that doesn't make it easier to deal with... whatever this is," she replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of respect and frustration.
"True," Elladan agreed, "But remember, Legolas has always been willing to face peril head-on, especially for those he cares about. His missteps during your journey together were likely amplified by the curse's influence. I believe he deserves some understanding, just as we are trying to understand your situation now."
Xena nodded, taking in Elladan's words. "I guess you're right. We've both been affected by things beyond our control." she said, a sense of resolution in her tone.
Elladan smiled reassuringly. "That's all we can ask for. In these dark times, misunderstandings can be as dangerous as any physical threat. It's important to find clarity and unity where we can." His advice was not just for Xena's situation, but a broader wisdom that seemed to resonate deeply in the heart of Rivendell.
Xena held Elladan's gaze, her expression a blend of acknowledgment and subtle challenge. "Understand this," she began firmly, "I assisted Legolas in lifting that curse because he once saved my life. I believe in settling my debts, in honoring those bonds. Yet, acknowledging this doesn't alter my view of him. Yes, he's capable and brave, but also undeniably arrogant and pampered. That's just who he is, a prince of the Woodland Realm, with all the pride and grandeur that comes with it." Her words carried a weight of experience, reflecting a nuanced understanding of Legolas' character shaped by both respect and realism.
Elladan's laughter echoed softly in the dining area, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, the famous pride of the Woodland Realm," he mused, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed posture. "It's true, Legolas and King Thranduil can be quite... self-assured at times. But as you've seen, they're more than just their pride."
Xena's smirk lingered, her gaze distant as she sifted through her memories. "Yeah, they have their moments of humility. Legolas, especially," she conceded, her tone softening slightly.
Elladan nodded thoughtfully, clearly satisfied with what he had heard. "I've always considered Legolas as part of our extended family. We've shared many experiences, both joyful and harrowing. His journey, particularly the struggles and the burden of the curse, has shaped him in ways few can understand," he said, his voice conveying a deep sense of empathy.
Xena listened, her expression showing a newfound understanding. "I can see that now. I guess we all have our battles, visible and invisible," she replied, a hint of introspection in her voice.
"Indeed," Elladan agreed, standing up from his chair. "And now, we must each face our own, while supporting each other in whatever ways we can. Remember, Xena, unity and understanding are our greatest strengths, especially in these dark times." His words were not just for Xena, but a reminder of the broader fight against the encroaching darkness, a fight that required every ally, every bit of wisdom, and every ounce of courage they could muster.
Elladan's demeanor shifted subtly, adopting a protective stance akin to an older brother safeguarding his kin. "Your insight into Legolas is commendable, but there's much more beneath his exterior of pride," he advised. "Keep your distance for now, until we unravel this curse. And eventually, you must confront him. Regardless of the outcome, Legolas is resilient, a true son of Thranduil, capable of facing life's harshest truths."
Xena acknowledged his counsel with a nod, absorbing his words as Elladan prepared to depart. A spark of curiosity lit in her eyes. "Before you go, which of the twins are you?" she inquired, seeking to distinguish between the seemingly identical sons of Elrond.
With a light smirk, Elladan responded, "I am Elladan. You'll recognize Elrohir easily enough – he'll make a concerted effort to charm you."
A wry smile crossed Xena's lips at the playful nature of the twins. "I highly doubt I'll fall under Elrohir's spell. But let him try," she quipped, her tone laced with both amusement and a hint of challenge.
"You know, Legolas was quite dismayed when you showed no interest in him. It was quite a blow to his pride," Elladan commented with a mix of jest and sincerity. "Your indifference sparked something of a contest. Now, Elrohir's determined to show that while you may be immune to the charms of a Mirkwood prince, you might yet be swayed by him."
Xena rose to leave, her expression amused. "Just how old are you and your brother?" she teased, "Tell Elrohir I'm not so easily won over."
"We are well aware of that," Elladan replied, a hint of humor in his voice. "Legolas has made it quite clear that you're a tough one to impress."
"I'm starting to think your friend talks a bit too much," Xena remarked playfully. As they strolled through the halls of Rivendell, their conversation continued, revealing a more amicable and lighthearted side of Elven culture. It was evident that Xena was gradually forming a friendly rapport with the twins, gaining a deeper understanding of their world.
((Upcoming Chapter Forty-Nine))
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