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

Author's Note:

This is a LegoRomance (slow-burn)

ActVI

The Shadows

Chapter 57: Of Teasing Glances & Stolen Moments

Imladris, September 19th 3018 T.A

The previous day's events had given Legolas a temporary reprieve from his nightly torment, but as dawn broke, the peace faded, and the constant hum of activity in the House of Elrond returned. Xena had barely stirred before Míresgaliel, one of the maidens assigned to assist her, swept into the room.

"Up with you!" Míresgaliel called cheerfully, yanking open the curtains. The sunlight streamed in, too bright and too early for Xena's taste.

Xena sat up, groggy, leaning against the headboard, watching as Míresgaliel darted around the room with a speed that made Xena's head spin. "What's the rush?" she mumbled, trying to make sense of the flurry of words pouring out of the elf maiden's mouth.

"A feast," Míresgaliel said, her voice bright and excited. "You must attend, Lady Xena! You need to look your best. There will be singing, dancing, and merrymaking! And baths, of course, before you get dressed."

Xena groaned inwardly. Feasts were not her favorite thing, especially this early in the day. "Can't I skip it?"

"Certainly not!" Míresgaliel replied with mock horror. "Go now, to the baths. I'll have your gown ready when you return."

Before she knew it, Xena was handed a basket of towels and soaps, half-dragged out of bed, and gently shoved toward the door. Her hair was hastily pulled into a loose bun, her robe tied lazily around her. She gave a dismissive wave as Míresgaliel offered to guide her.

"I'll manage," Xena grumbled, adjusting the robe and blinking away sleep.

But instead of following the directions to the guests' bathing quarters, Xena wandered down a more secluded path, ending up in one of the private areas typically reserved for the high-ranking lords and ladies of Rivendell. The serenity of the secluded place appealed to her. She hadn't noticed the subtle differences in décor or the faint scent of essential oils that clung to the air—details she would have recognized if she had been more awake.

The private pool she found was perfect. The water was already warm, gently steaming in the morning air, filling the room with a familiar, soothing scent that seemed to wrap around her like an old friend. She barely took notice of the neatly folded robes and towels left at the other end of the bench.

With a small sigh of relief, Xena slipped off her robe and released her hair, letting it tumble freely down her back. She entered the pool, letting the warm water envelope her tired body, sinking in until it reached her shoulders. Her eyes fluttered closed as she allowed herself to relax, enjoying the solitude.

But then… she felt it. That unmistakable sensation of being watched. Her eyes snapped open, and she turned, only to freeze in place. Standing just a few feet away, equally nude and equally startled, was Legolas.

His long, silver-blonde hair cascaded freely down his back, his body as perfectly sculpted as an elven prince should be, glistening from the warm steam rising from the water. His pale skin contrasted with the dark stone of the pool, and his bright, piercing blue eyes were locked directly onto hers.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The air between them seemed to thicken with the realization of what had just happened—both standing in a pool, completely exposed to one another. It wasn't as if they hadn't seen glimpses of each other before during baths or while traveling. But this? This was different. Intimate.

Xena's eyes involuntarily traveled down his body, and despite herself, she couldn't help but notice the details she'd never allowed herself to take in before. The strength in his limbs, the smooth lines of his body, and the way the water rippled around him.

Legolas, for his part, found his gaze lingering longer than it should have on Xena. The warrior woman, with her toned muscles and graceful curves, was standing half-submerged in the water, her skin fair. He had seen her fight, seen her wounds and scars. But here, in this quiet space, she was different. Softer, yet still powerful.

Awkward tension filled the silence. And yet, neither of them moved to cover themselves.

Xena was the first to break the quiet. "Well… this is… awkward."

Legolas blinked, as though finally realizing what was happening. "You could say that," he replied, his voice a bit strained. His eyes darted briefly down, then back to her face. "You're in the wrong bathing area."

Xena raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as if to hold back a smirk. "Funny. I was just about to say the same to you."

"This section," Legolas said, crossing his arms over his chest as if that would help maintain some level of decorum, "is reserved for the lords and ladies of high rank."

She gestured around, her smirk growing. "And I don't see a sign anywhere, do you?"

Legolas gave a small huff of disbelief, glancing up at the ceiling as if looking for divine intervention. "It's implied. You were given specific directions, were you not?"

"Directions? Sure. Did I follow them? Clearly not."

"Clearly," he echoed, his gaze flickering once again over her, though he quickly corrected himself. "You should leave."

"Leave?" Xena asked, leaning back against the edge of the pool, her eyes now fully awake, glinting with mischief. "Why? The water's nice. You could always leave if you're that bothered."

"I was here first," Legolas said defensively, though there was the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes now.

"And yet," she shot back, "you're the one still standing there, staring."

Legolas' eyes narrowed, though a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "I am not staring."

"You most certainly are."

"I am merely… assessing the situation," he said, with a slight tilt of his head, as if trying to regain the upper hand.

"Uh-huh." Xena's voice was teasing now, her earlier awkwardness melting away as her confidence returned. She leaned forward just a bit, her arms resting on the edge of the pool. "And what's your assessment, oh great elven prince?"

Legolas took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. "That this situation is entirely improper."

"And yet," she teased again, her gaze roaming freely over him, "you're still here."

For a moment, their eyes met and held. The tension between them shifted, no longer awkward but charged with something neither wanted to admit out loud.

Finally, Legolas cleared his throat and turned slightly, though not enough to leave. "You are impossible."

Xena grinned, standing upright, the water sliding down her body as she did. She caught him glancing—just for a moment. "That's what they all say."

"Perhaps," he muttered, but his voice was softer now, tinged with something unspoken.

The awkwardness between them remained thick, neither willing to give up their claim to the pool. The idea of leaving now, after all the tension and stubborn pride, seemed out of the question for both. So, in silent agreement, they chose to continue their bath, each aware of the other's presence yet pretending it was entirely normal.

Legolas, though still uncomfortable, wasn't worried about Xena seeing him naked—they had been in such situations before, accidental or otherwise. What troubled him this time was that both of them were no longer merely ignoring the incident but staring, lingering on details they shouldn't be.

Xena, for her part, didn't miss a chance to glance over at the elf prince's form when she thought he wasn't looking. She noticed things she hadn't paid attention to before—his lean strength, the grace with which he moved even in such an intimate setting. She couldn't help but find a certain beauty in him, and though she wouldn't admit it, there was something exciting about it.

Their backs now turned to each other, the water splashing softly as they began to wash in silence, each trying to focus on anything but the other's proximity. Xena, after a long pause, finally broke the silence, curiosity getting the better of her. "So, what's this feast everyone's running around for?"

Legolas, who had been methodically scrubbing his arms, turned his head slightly in her direction, his voice calm, though his mind still reeled from their earlier encounter. "It's the celebration of the changing seasons. The end of summer, the beginning of autumn. It is an old tradition, one that has been celebrated in Rivendell for centuries."

He continued, his tone becoming more formal as he explained the intricacies. "There will be food and wine flowing freely all day. Songs, dances, and poems recited in the evening. It's one of the few times the elves of Rivendell gather formally, in fine attire. A chance to celebrate beauty before the cold months arrive."

Xena listened, though her mind wandered as she soaked in the warm water. His voice was steady and calming, and for a brief moment, she imagined what it would be like to attend such an event—although formal gatherings weren't her style. Still, the idea of flowing wine and a bit of dancing didn't sound so bad.

As Legolas was mid-sentence, she reached for the sponge beside her and suddenly skipped to his side, holding it out over her shoulder without turning around. "Here," she said casually.

Legolas paused, momentarily baffled. He glanced down at the sponge in her outstretched hand, then at the back of her head as if trying to decipher what she meant. "What are you doing?" he asked cautiously.

"Wash my back," she said, as though it was the most natural request in the world.

He blinked, clearly taken aback. "Wash your back?"

"Yup," she replied, still not facing him, her voice nonchalant. "What? You've never washed someone's back before?" Her tone was teasing, knowing full well how improper this was, but she also sensed his hesitation, and that only made her more amused.

Legolas hesitated for a moment longer, eyeing her back as though it were a riddle he couldn't solve. It was improper, yes, but after a sigh of resignation, he took the sponge. If they were going to make this day any less complicated, arguing was not the way to go. He let the soap lather on the sponge, and then, slowly, he pressed it against her shoulders.

Xena barely suppressed a shiver as the sponge moved across her skin, though her face remained hidden from him. "See? Not so difficult," she teased again, but her voice had softened slightly.

As he continued, his hand steady, his touch light, Legolas found his voice once more, speaking as though he needed to focus on something other than the smoothness of her skin beneath his hand. "Before the darkness began to spread, this festival was an opportunity for elves to find their… partners. It was common during such celebrations for those who were unattached to gather in the evening by the fires, to drink, dance, and…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "…to form bonds."

Xena raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing, listening as he continued.

"Many elves found their lifemates during these festivals," Legolas went on, his hand now sliding lower down her back, almost too low, before he stopped abruptly. He froze, realizing where his hand had traveled.

Xena, feeling the sudden halt in motion, smirked to herself. "Enjoying yourself back there?" she asked slyly.

He exhaled sharply, pulling his hand away, his composure cracking just enough for a flush of color to rise to his pale cheeks. "We… we are violating propriety," he muttered, trying to maintain his usual stoic demeanor, though the redness in his face betrayed him.

Xena turned around suddenly, grabbing his hand and the sponge with it. She stepped forward until they were face to face, their proximity much too close. Her eyes locked on his, and for the first time, she saw it—a light blush coloring his usually stoic face. She blinked, genuinely surprised.

"Are you… blushing?" she asked incredulously, her grin widening. "I didn't know elves could blush."

Legolas looked away, slightly embarrassed, which only made her grin grow. "Turn around," she ordered, her voice now playful, "your turn."

Legolas hesitated, but eventually turned his back to her. His long, silver hair fell across his shoulders, and he felt her soft touch on his skin as she began to wash him in the same gentle manner he had done for her.

"You're enjoying this far too much," he muttered under his breath, though he couldn't deny the strange sensation of allowing someone to be this close to him—something that hadn't happened in centuries.

As she scrubbed his back, Xena found herself smiling. "Oh, I am. Believe me, I am."

He tried to speak again, "This… it is improper for both of us. Our… privacy, it—"

"Yeah, yeah," Xena cut him off with a dismissive wave, her fingers deliberately teasing as they brushed against his shoulder blades. She sensed his discomfort, and it only made her more determined to rattle him. "If it's so improper, then why haven't you stopped me?"

Legolas clenched his jaw. "Because stopping you would only fuel your desire to irritate me further."

"Smart elf," she quipped, finishing up her task but not before letting her hands linger just a bit longer than necessary, causing him to shift uncomfortably. "And look at that, you're still blushing."

She stepped back, satisfied with the reaction she had elicited from him. But Legolas, though graceful and controlled, wasn't going to let her win so easily. He turned back around, a mischievous glint in his eye, and with one swift motion, he reached out, flicking water in her direction. The splash hit her squarely in the face, soaking her hair.

Xena gasped, blinking in surprise as water dripped down her cheeks. "Did you just—?"

Legolas smirked, his composure now fully returned. "What? You looked like you needed to cool down."

Xena glared at him, her jaw dropping slightly. She hadn't expected him to retaliate so brazenly. "You're going to pay for that."

"Perhaps," he replied, his smirk widening. "But at least I'm no longer the only one blushing."

Xena's face flushed instantly, her eyes narrowing at him. She opened her mouth to retort but found no words, only more indignation as she wiped the water from her face, realizing with irritation that he had indeed made her blush.

Legolas tilted his head, his voice now lighter, filled with amusement. "What's the matter, Xena? Lost for words?"

Xena lingered in the water for a moment longer, unwilling to let Legolas have the last word, her pride pushing her to keep her cool. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, noticing how he had also fallen silent, his gaze fixed on her. But despite the teasing, she knew she couldn't stay much longer—Míresgaliel would come looking for her soon, and the last thing she needed was for someone to stumble upon them like this. It was one thing to irritate and playfully tease Legolas, but it was another to put him in a compromising position. She respected him enough not to cause that kind of trouble.

With a sigh, she began washing her body and hair quickly, her movements brisk and efficient, no longer indulging in the relaxed pace of their earlier interaction. Legolas, standing just a few steps away, couldn't help but notice the shift in her demeanor. He tilted his head slightly, his voice low but questioning.

"Why the sudden hurry?" he asked, his gaze following her movements.

Xena, drying herself with a towel, turned briefly to meet his eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching upward in a small smirk. "Míresgaliel will be after me if I don't return soon. And trust me, she's not someone you want to cross." She paused, noticing the way his eyes flickered over her. "Though I've noticed your staring, elf. Don't think I'll let you off that easy. We're not done."

Legolas raised an eyebrow, amused by her challenge, but he said nothing. As she wrapped the towel around herself and began preparing to leave, something in the air shifted again. He watched her, his gaze no longer just casual, but something more—something deeper. He allowed himself, for just a moment longer than he should, to admire the curve of her form, the way her wet hair clung to her skin. It wasn't just that she was beautiful. She was unique, in a way that intrigued him far beyond what he had expected.

But as Xena turned to leave, he called out to her, his voice stopping her in her tracks. "Wait."

Xena turned, towel wrapped around her body, another in her hands as she tried to twist her hair into it. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw him stepping out of the pool, water dripping from his body. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze briefly swept over him, taking in the full sight of the elf prince, completely nude in all his glory. She stumbled back a step, caught off guard by the unexpected sight, her cheeks flushing despite herself.

Legolas, quick and fluid in his movements, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, smirking as he caught her lingering stare. "Enjoying the view?" he asked, his voice holding the slightest hint of mischief.

Xena's mouth opened, then closed, words failing her for a moment. She wasn't one to be caught off guard often, but something about the ease with which he moved and the casual way he'd turned the tables on her made her heart race. "Oh, don't flatter yourself," she shot back, though her face betrayed her with its deepening blush.

Legolas didn't let her off the hook. He grabbed a smaller towel and a small bottle of oil from a nearby bench, stepping closer to her. His voice, though still playful, had a more serious undertone now. "Turn around."

Xena hesitated, narrowing her eyes at the sudden command. "What?"

"Turn around," he repeated, his tone firmer this time, leaving no room for argument.

With a huff, more out of curiosity than obedience, Xena turned, her back facing him. She felt him come closer, his presence unmistakably near. A second later, his fingers brushed against her hair, causing her to shiver involuntarily. He had poured the oil into his hands, and now, with the lightest touch, he began to run his fingers through her long, wet strands.

Xena had to bite her lip to keep from gasping aloud. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he worked the oil into her hair, moving with a patience and care she hadn't expected. The scent of the oil mixed with the natural scent of him— summer rain mingled with a hint of mint and citrus. It was intoxicating. Her skin prickled under his fingers, and though she tried to keep her composure, she could feel a warmth spreading through her, a blush rising on her cheeks that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

Legolas, too, was feeling the tension in the air. The intimacy of the moment was not lost on him, though he kept his touch steady, focusing on the task. But as his fingers worked through her hair, smoothing the oil through each strand, he couldn't ignore the soft warmth of her skin so close to him. This was no longer just a playful exchange—it was something more.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice low, almost a whisper. "This oil… it's what we use to keep our hair… as you once asked."

Xena turned her head slightly, catching his gaze over her shoulder, their faces now mere inches apart. His words took her back to a question she had asked long ago, in a different setting, about the secret behind the elves' perfect hair. His answer was simple, but the way he said it, in that soft, low tone, made her heart skip a beat. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, neither moved.

The world seemed to still as they stood there, their faces so close that Xena could feel his breath on her skin. Legolas looked at her as though searching for something, his gaze flickering down to her lips before returning to her eyes. He wouldn't kiss her—she knew that. He was an elf, bound by traditions and propriety. Elves didn't kiss because the moment felt right. They kissed because it meant something more.

But she wasn't an elf.

Before she could second-guess herself, Xena leaned in, her lips brushing softly against his in a fleeting kiss. It was brief, almost too brief, but it was enough. She pulled back just as quickly, licking her lips as if savoring the taste.

"That's for splashing water in my face," she said with a smirk, her voice playful but laced with something deeper.

Legolas stood there, frozen, his mind reeling from the sudden kiss. He hadn't expected it—hadn't expected her to close the gap. His fingers lingered near his lips as though trying to hold onto the sensation for just a moment longer. He didn't move as she gathered her belongings, wrapped the robe over her towel, and prepared to leave.

"Thanks for the hair," she said casually, glancing over her shoulder as she made her way toward the door.

Legolas didn't respond immediately. He remained still, his thoughts tangled. The kiss had caught him off guard, too sudden and too intimate, but also… not unwelcome. As he stood there, his mind wandered, and for a brief moment, he wondered—if things were different, if his life weren't weighed down by nightmares and guilt, perhaps he would have followed after her. Perhaps he would have kissed her back, in a way that a kiss should be given.

Perhaps…

But for now, he simply watched her leave, the faint taste of her lips still lingering on his.

((Upcoming Chapter Fifty-Eight))

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