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 65: Of Ancient Wards and Hidden Roads

Hidden Forge of Eregion, September 22th 3018 T.A

The narrow corridor gave way to a cavernous tunnel, plunging the company into a deep labyrinth below the Misty Mountains. Here, the stone seemed to pulse faintly with a life of its own, as if it could sense their presence, their breath, their heartbeat. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and old magic, a reminder of the secrets buried in this ancient place. They had left the horses behind at the entrance, their loyal companions unwilling or unable to venture into the depths below.

Elladan paused, glancing around with a mixture of awe and wariness. "It's like walking into a legend," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "The stories never quite captured the depth of this place."

Xena looked up, tracing her gaze along the high, arched ceilings that loomed above them. Roots from the surface twisted down through cracks in the stone, weaving a web overhead that was both beautiful and eerie. "You feel that?" she asked, her voice steady but tense. "It's like the air is watching us."

Legolas nodded, his keen eyes scanning the dark, flickering shadows that danced across the walls. "There is magic here, old and unyielding. This place remembers," he said quietly. "We must tread carefully. It would not take kindly to intruders."

They moved forward, each step measured, their senses heightened as they ventured deeper into the labyrinth. The tunnels were vast, stretching out in all directions, twisting and winding like the tendrils of a living creature. It was easy to see how one could become lost in such a place; without the faint glow of torches and the steady beat of their footsteps, they would be swallowed whole by the darkness.

As they pressed on, they encountered the first of many obstacles—a narrow bridge of stone that spanned a deep chasm. The abyss below seemed to stretch endlessly into the black, a void that swallowed the torchlight and returned nothing. The bridge itself was barely wide enough for a single person to cross, the stone slick with moisture and worn smooth by centuries of abandonment.

Elladan tested the first step, his movements cautious, his gaze focused. He glanced back at the others, his expression a mixture of determination and unease. "It's stable enough," he said, though his tone carried a hint of doubt. "But watch your footing. One slip and it's a long way down."

Legolas went first, his balance unerring, his steps light as he crossed the bridge. He reached the other side without incident, turning to watch as the others followed suit. Xena was next, her movements steady, her gaze fixed on the far side as she crossed. She felt the stone shift slightly beneath her, a reminder of the precariousness of their path, but she pressed on, her resolve unwavering.

Elrohir brought up the rear, his steps quick and sure as he crossed the bridge. As he reached the other side, a faint tremor rippled through the stone, and the bridge shuddered. He leaped the last few feet, landing beside the others as the stone settled once more, the tremor fading into silence.

"Not exactly the welcome I was hoping for," Elrohir muttered, brushing a layer of dust from his tunic. "This place is treacherous."

They continued on, the tunnels winding deeper into the mountain. The air grew colder, the silence heavier, as if the very stone around them held its breath. Shadows shifted along the walls, and more than once, they felt the faintest brush of movement behind them, as if they were being watched.

They soon found themselves in a chamber filled with towering stone statues, each one carved in the likeness of an Elven warrior. The statues were immense, their faces stern and unyielding, their eyes hollow and dark. They held swords and shields, their poses frozen in battle, as if ready to defend the forge even in death.

Xena stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the statues. "Are they… alive?" she asked, her voice low, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

Legolas shook his head, though his expression was wary. "No, but they are not entirely lifeless, either. These are stone guardians, bound by magic to protect this place."

As if in response to his words, the air around them shifted, a faint hum filling the chamber. The ground trembled, and one of the statues moved, its massive stone arm lifting as if to strike.

Elladan reacted instinctively, drawing his sword and stepping into a defensive stance. "Looks like they don't take kindly to visitors," he said, his tone dry but tense.

The statue lumbered forward, its movements slow but powerful, its stone joints grinding with each step. The other statues remained motionless, their hollow eyes fixed on the company as if waiting to see how they would fare.

Legolas nocked an arrow, aiming for the statue's head. He released the arrow, the shaft striking true, but it shattered on impact, the stone barely dented. "Our weapons may not be enough," he muttered, his gaze narrowing.

Xena glanced around, her mind racing. "If they're bound by magic, there must be a way to break the spell," she said. "Something that holds them here."

Elrohir pointed to the center of the chamber, where a large, glowing crystal sat atop a pedestal. "That crystal," he said. "It's the source of their power. We need to destroy it."

They moved as one, dodging the statue's slow, sweeping attacks as they made their way toward the crystal. The air was thick with tension, the stone guardians looming above them, their eyes cold and unyielding.

Xena reached the pedestal first, her sword flashing as she struck at the crystal. It cracked under the force of her blow, a spiderweb of fractures spreading across its surface. She struck again, and the crystal shattered, a blinding flash of light filling the chamber.

The statues froze, their movements halting as the magic that bound them faded. They stood motionless once more, their hollow eyes empty, their purpose fulfilled.

The company took a moment to catch their breath, their gazes fixed on the now-silent statues. "Well," Elrohir said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That was one way to make an entrance."

They pressed on, the tunnels growing narrower and more winding as they delved deeper into the mountain. The air grew colder, the shadows thicker, and the faint hum of ancient magic seemed to pulse through the stone.

At last, they reached a massive stone door, its surface etched with intricate runes and symbols. It was the main gate to the ruins of Eregion, the entrance to the hidden forge. Legolas stepped forward, his fingers tracing the runes as he whispered the words of a spell.

The door shuddered, the runes flaring with a soft, golden light. Slowly, the door swung open, revealing a dark, winding staircase that descended into the depths below.

They exchanged a glance, a mixture of excitement and trepidation in their eyes. This was it—the final descent into the heart of Eregion, the place where the forge lay hidden, guarded by secrets and shadows.

They descended the staircase, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The air grew colder, the darkness deeper, as they ventured into the unknown, their hearts filled with anticipation and resolve.

At the bottom of the staircase, they found themselves in a vast chamber, the walls lined with ancient machinery and tools. It was a place of creation and destruction, a forge that had once been the heart of Elven craftsmanship, now long abandoned and forgotten.

They took a moment to take it all in, their gazes sweeping over the room as they prepared to face whatever dangers lay ahead. This was a place of legends, a place that held the power to change the course of their lives. And they were ready to face it, whatever the cost.

The vast chamber was a marvel, a relic of a time when Elven craftsmanship was at its peak. Shadows clung to the high, vaulted ceiling, and the room stretched far beyond what their eyes could immediately take in. The dim glow of their torches revealed stone walls lined with shelves and tables, each laden with tools of a kind none of them had ever seen. Here and there, ancient anvils were scattered, some with half-forged weapons still lying atop them, as if their creators had simply walked away and never returned. The air was thick with the scent of old metal and faint echoes of burning coal.

Elladan, his torch held high, walked slowly, taking in the details with reverence. "I had heard stories of the Forge of Eregion," he murmured his voice a whisper that barely broke the silence. "But I never thought I would lay eyes on it."

Erohir stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the tables. He picked up a hammer, its handle worn smooth, its head still sharp. "This place has stood untouched for centuries," he said, an odd sense of awe in his voice. "It feels almost wrong to be here, like we're trespassing on something sacred."

Legolas moved with a sense of purpose, his footsteps echoing through the chamber as he approached a large stone forge that dominated the far end of the room. An ancient fire pit lay cold and empty at its center, but even now, he could feel the heat that once blazed here, the flames that had forged weapons for ages past. "This forge," he said quietly, his hand resting on its edge, "saw the birth of many things, some of them dark, some of them powerful beyond measure. Celebrimbor poured his heart into this place."

Xena, standing beside him, peered over his shoulder, her eyes following the intricate carvings that adorned the forge. Vines and runes entwined, etched deeply into the stone, their lines precise and deliberate. "It's incredible," she said, her voice soft. "You can almost feel the history here, like it's woven into the very stone."

As they moved further into the chamber, they came upon rows of armor stands, the metal tarnished with age, yet still beautiful in its intricacy. Greaves, helms, and breastplates bore delicate filigree and fine craftsmanship, each piece telling a story of its own. Weapons were scattered across the floor, swords and axes, some broken, others intact but dulled with time.

Elladan knelt by a particularly ornate shield, his fingers brushing the edge of it. "This must have been one of the last places they worked," he speculated. "The workmanship here... it's extraordinary. But there's also a sense of haste, as though they knew their time was running out."

Erohir was drawn to a small, cluttered desk set against the far wall, where faded parchment and scrolls were scattered among jars of ink, now dried and flaking. He carefully picked up a scroll, unrolling it with gentle hands. The Elvish script was barely legible, but he squinted, reading aloud in a low voice:

"'The day grows dark, and we toil beneath its shadow. But here in this Froge in Eregion, the fires still burn bright. We shall craft until our hands bleed, and then we shall craft more. For in these tools, we place our last hope.'"

Xena moved closer to him, listening intently as he continued to read. "They knew what was coming," she said, her tone contemplative. "They knew they were running out of time."

Legolas exchanged a look with Elladan, their shared understanding unspoken. "Eregion was a beacon, a place of light and creation," he said. "And yet, in the end, even that was not enough to save it."

Erohir carefully gathered several scrolls, tucking them into his pack. "These need to be preserved," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "If nothing else, they belong in Imladris, in the library, where they can be studied and remembered."

Elladan nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "You and your books," he teased gently. "You would bring the whole of Eregion back to Rivendell if you could."

Erohir chuckled, unfazed. "Perhaps I would. There is so much we can learn from them, from what they left behind. Knowledge like this... it should not be lost."

Xena picked up a helmet, its surface marked with delicate silver engravings that had faded over time. "What do you think they would say if they knew we were here?" she asked, glancing over at Legolas.

Legolas looked around the chamber, a distant sadness in his eyes. "They would probably welcome us," he said softly. "The Elves of Eregion were proud, but they were also generous. They knew their creations were meant to endure, even if they did not."

He turned to face her fully, a rare gentleness in his expression. "For them, creation was a form of defiance, a way to stand against the darkness. And in that, we're not so different."

Erohir, holding one of the scrolls, looked up thoughtfully. "Perhaps that is why this place still feels alive," he mused. "The spirit of those who worked here, it lingers, as if waiting for the chance to finish what they started."

The four companions stood in contemplative silence, the weight of the chamber pressing down on them as they absorbed the history and the emotions that filled the space. It was Elladan who broke the silence, clearing his throat as he straightened up. "We should move on," he said, though there was a reluctance in his tone. "There's still more to explore, and this is only the first of many challenges."

They continued through the chamber, their movements careful and respectful, each of them pausing to examine artifacts that caught their eye. Legolas stayed close to Xena, a sense of shared understanding passing between them. She glanced at him from time to time, catching the glint of something unreadable in his gaze, a reflection of the emotions they both felt but didn't speak of.

Finally, they came to a pair of stone doors at the far end of the chamber, each one engraved with symbols that pulsed faintly with a soft, golden light. The door appeared to be sealed, with no obvious way to open it, but Elladan stepped forward, examining the markings with a keen eye.

"These symbols," he said, tracing them with his fingers. "They're familiar. They're wards, meant to keep intruders out."

Legolas joined him, his gaze focused. "Can you break them?" he asked.

Erohir stepped up beside his brother, nodding. "Together, we should be able to. It will take some time, though."

Xena crossed her arms, watching them work. "Take all the time you need," she said. "If these wards have held for centuries, they won't be easy to break."

Legolas looked back at her, a faint smile on his lips. "Patience, Xena," he said, his tone teasing. "Not every battle is won with a sword."

She returned his smile, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "I suppose you'll just have to show me how it's done, then."

The four of them stood together, the shared task ahead of them binding them even closer. In this ancient forge, beneath the weight of centuries and the memories of those who had come before, they prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As the night wore on, the four companions set up camp near the sealed stone doors, their light flickering against the ancient carvings that guarded the entrance to the next level of Eregion's ruins. Elladan and Elrohir, crouched near the doors, muttered to each other in Elvish, discussing the inscriptions and carefully examining each symbol etched into the stone. Occasionally, Elladan's fingers would trace a particular mark, and Elrohir would nod, offering his own observations. Their focus was intense, a mix of reverence and determination as they attempted to unravel the ancient warding spells that barred their path.

Legolas had taken a few steps back from the twins, his expression thoughtful. While he was well-versed in Elven lore, this kind of intricate magic was unfamiliar territory for him, a skill more commonly practiced among the elves of Rivendell than those of Mirkwood. He glanced over his shoulder, catching Xena's eye as she secured her gear and came over to join him, curiosity clear in her gaze.

"They seem to know what they're doing," Xena said, nodding towards Elladan and Elrohir as they continued their work.

Legolas nodded, his gaze steady. "They do. The elves of Imladris have a deep understanding of these wards—of magic rooted in history and in the very land itself." He paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Mirkwood elves, on the other hand, are more accustomed to dealing with tangible threats. We leave the magic to the scholars."

Xena chuckled softly, crossing her arms as she leaned against a nearby rock. "I suppose that makes sense. But this seems like it's straight out of a legend. It's not every day you go spelunking under the Misty Mountains in search of an ancient sword." She shot him a sidelong glance. "Which brings me to a question I've been meaning to ask you."

Legolas raised an eyebrow, inviting her to continue.

"What made you decide to take me along on this little treasure hunt?" she asked, her tone half-joking but with an edge of curiosity. "We've been through a lot together, but this seems... different. This quest for a sword, specifically for me—I can't help but wonder why."

He met her gaze, the flickering light of the campfire reflecting in his blue eyes. "In truth, I thought it would be a fitting gift for you," he replied, his voice measured. "A sword worthy of someone with your strength and resilience. I saw how you lost ... broke your blade, and I know what it means for a warrior to be without their weapon."

Xena's expression softened slightly, but she didn't interrupt.

"It is more than that, though," he continued, his gaze distant as if he were looking at something beyond her. "I needed the ride, needed the purpose. I have found that seeking something tangible—a sword, a path—helps distract from... other matters." He hesitated as if choosing his words carefully. "And I wanted you here, with me. I suppose I thought we both needed this journey, in our own ways."

She studied him for a moment, noting the subtle tension in his posture, the way his jaw tightened when he spoke of distraction. She had seen him battle orcs and face down threats with unflinching bravery, yet here he was, with a rare vulnerability slipping through his usually composed exterior.

"Funny," she said, tilting her head as she looked at him. "You don't strike me as someone who needs distractions. But I get it. We all have our ghosts." She paused, then added with a smirk, "And as far as quests go, I suppose it could be worse. At least we're not chasing after some lost prince or fighting off an entire battalion."

He chuckled a genuine sound that seemed to ease some of the weight between them. "Indeed. I will admit, I had expected a bit more resistance from you at the idea of this quest. And yet, here you are."

"I may be a warrior, but even I can appreciate a good adventure," she replied, her smirk widening. "Besides, I trust you. Even if that means risking my neck to find a sword in an ancient ruin. It's not the craziest thing we've done."

Legolas nodded, a hint of warmth in his gaze as he looked at her. "It's true, this is not the first time I've led you into danger."

"Nor will it be the last, I'm sure," she added, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. "Just promise me that if we find anything cursed down there, you'll let me know before I touch it."

He laughed, a sound that echoed softly through the darkened chamber. "You have my word. Though I suspect that with you by my side, any curse would think twice before daring to interfere."

She laughed along with him, and for a moment, they both fell silent, comfortable in each other's presence. The warmth of the fire contrasted with the cool stone around them, and she felt a strange sense of peace settle over her, as if despite the danger, this was exactly where she was meant to be.

Elladan called over to them, breaking the moment. "We've found the key to opening the door," he said, glancing back at them with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "It's going to take some time, but we're getting close."

Legolas nodded in acknowledgment, his expression shifting back to one of focus. He glanced at Xena once more, giving her a slight nod, a shared understanding passing between them.

"I suppose we should let them work," he said quietly.

"Right," she replied, a faint smile still lingering. "We've got all the time in the world, after all."

As Elladan and Elrohir continued their careful work, Legolas and Xena settled down nearby, both quietly preparing for whatever lay beyond the ancient doors, each of them carrying their own reasons, their own unspoken hopes, for the journey that awaited them.

((Upcoming Chapter Sixty-Six)

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