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 68: Silence the Heart

Hidden Forge of Eregion, September 26th-27th 3018 T.A

As Legolas moved further from the camp, he adjusted his weapons and set off, his mind caught between the memories of the Hidden Forge and the reaction Xena had when he presented her with the sword. Her surprise, her slight disbelief—it all reminded him of the times he'd been given gifts he felt unworthy to receive. He had seen the same guarded vulnerability in her eyes and, just for a moment, allowed himself the warmth of that connection. But he wouldn't let himself indulge beyond that moment. He knew better than to let fleeting emotions cloud his path.

The landscape around him was different than he'd expected, though. He paused, narrowing his eyes at the unfamiliar terrain. The grassy opening they had camped in was farther from the river than he had thought. His instincts guided him through the faintly familiar terrain, and as he pressed on, it became clear they had drifted from their intended path, possibly during the chaos of escaping the collapsing Forge. Legolas began to realize they had emerged much further North—somewhere near the old, forgotten path to Goblin-town.

The Goblin-town. Gandalf had recounted the tale years ago—the place was left in ruins after the Great Goblin's defeat. The town was now a desolate memory, avoided by most travelers, for it was said that remnants of darkness lingered there, and the paths remained treacherous. He glanced around, spotting no immediate sign of the horses and realizing with a sinking feeling that finding them would not be as simple as he had hoped. Frustration bubbled up as he turned back toward the camp, preparing himself for the inevitable conversation with the others. They were more lost than he'd anticipated.

Returning to the clearing, he saw Elladan and Elrohir were busy securing the ancient scripts, carefully packing them with what remaining provisions they had. Xena, meanwhile, was examining her newly acquired sword, a thoughtful expression on her face. She looked up as Legolas approached, noticing the slight frown on his face.

"Did you find the horses?" she asked, tilting her head as she took in his expression.

Legolas sighed, folding his arms. "It seems that our exit has taken us much further north than I anticipated," he admitted. "We're near the old path to Goblin-town."

Elladan straightened, his face shifting from calm to concern. "The Goblin-town? You're certain?" he asked, his brows knitting together.

"Yes. I recognize some of the landmarks." Legolas gestured to the landscape beyond, still dotted with jagged rocks and rugged slopes. "If we're as far north as I believe, it could take days to find the horses, assuming they haven't wandered back towards Rivendell."

Elrohir let out a low whistle, exchanging a glance with his brother. "We're practically on the doorstep of an ancient ruin filled with unknown dangers," he remarked dryly, his face bearing a wry smile. "And here I thought we'd be enjoying a leisurely ride back by now."

Xena chuckled, shouldering her sword with a playful grin. "So you're telling me, Prince of Mirkwood, that you dragged us down here, sword in hand, only for us to have to hike back through orc-infested paths?" She crossed her arms, mockingly narrowing her eyes at him. "I thought elves were supposed to have an impeccable sense of direction."

Legolas allowed himself a small smirk in return, despite his frustration. "If you had any better sense of direction, you would have warned me before we took the leap out of that chamber," he replied, a spark of challenge in his eyes.

She rolled her eyes, giving him a dismissive wave. "Please. I knew exactly where I was going," she shot back, a grin breaking through. "Besides, you know you needed this."

Elrohir chuckled, stepping forward to clap Legolas on the shoulder. "Well, we certainly can't blame you, Legolas. It's not every day you get swept up in a mad rush for an ancient treasure," he said with a grin. "But we do need a plan now."

Elladan, who had been studying the terrain with narrowed eyes, nodded thoughtfully. "Agreed. We should assess what provisions we have left and plan our route carefully. If the horses have indeed wandered, it could take us some time to reach them. We'll need to be cautious."

Xena shook her head with a resigned sigh, glancing between the three elves. "This whole trip has been one surprise after another. I suppose it's fitting that we end it by walking through the very wilderness you elves usually avoid."

Legolas smiled slightly at that, his tone lightening a little. "Yes, well, let's not waste any time then. The sooner we start, the sooner we can make it back."

They moved as a group, each of them busy with preparations for the unexpected trek ahead. The twins divided up the remaining provisions, making sure the precious scripts were well-secured. Xena checked her gear, the new sword resting comfortably against her back, while Legolas surveyed the surrounding land, mentally marking the safest route back to Rivendell.

Before long, they set off, their steps falling into a rhythm as they ventured back through the unfamiliar and ancient landscape. They navigated between rocky outcroppings and twisted roots, all the while exchanging quips and remarks, each of them lending their own strength to the journey. Even in this unexpected turn of events, the camaraderie between them was clear, and for now, that was enough to keep them moving forward.

Legolas strode ahead, his sharp eyes scanning the rocky landscape as they carefully picked their way through the ancient path. The weight of their recent trials hung heavy in his thoughts, and he felt the sting of misjudgment more keenly than he wanted to admit. He had been distracted, and the path they now followed, while familiar in name, was treacherous, possibly still frequented by orcs. But it wasn't the threat of danger that gnawed at him; it was the fact that this quest—this journey to find the sword—had been taken on in haste. And he was no longer able to pretend that it had been anything more than a distraction.

He had convinced himself that it was about the sword, about finding something worthy for Xena, something to anchor his purpose. But now, as he moved through the craggy slopes, his heart knew better. The Autumn Fest and its haunting memories lingered. It had become a festivity where emotions, long hidden and buried beneath his endless sense of duty, had risen to the surface. In the aftermath, instead of facing what he felt, he had plunged them all into this hasty quest.

His pride stung. He was no longer the same elf who never missed a detail, the scout who could outthink any danger. This distraction—this cloud over his mind—had pushed him to act impulsively, and that was a mistake no leader should make. But he couldn't escape the feeling that it wasn't just the quest he was running from; it was something deeper.

Elladan, walking close to Legolas, had sensed the shift in his friend's demeanor. The twin, who had known Legolas for centuries, recognized the turmoil beneath the surface. Elladan had always been more direct, more serious, and he had shared a bond with Legolas that went beyond friendship. It was something forged long ago, in the depths of shared grief and responsibility.

As they walked, Elladan fell in step with him, keeping his voice low, switching to their native Sindarin. It was a language that felt more private, more honest in these moments. He glanced at Legolas, his keen elven eyes picking up on the subtle tension in his friend's movements.

"You carry too much today, Legolas," Elladan began softly, his voice gentle but direct. "I see it in your eyes, in the way you move. Your mind is elsewhere, distracted. This quest was never about a sword, was it?"

Legolas didn't immediately respond, his jaw tightening as he continued to navigate the uneven path. His silence was answer enough for Elladan, who had long since learned to read between the words of his friend. But Elladan wasn't one to let things linger. Not when the stakes were high.

"You've always been focused, clear in your intentions," Elladan continued, his gaze steady on Legolas. "But this time... you acted in haste. You rushed into this without thinking through every detail, without planning as you usually do. You know it, and I know it. What is it you're trying to escape?"

The words hung in the air between them, a direct challenge that could only come from someone who truly understood the weight of what Legolas carried. Elladan knew what it was like to bear the burden of grief, of responsibility, of a past that could never be undone. He had seen it in his own reflection after his mother, Celebrían, had sailed west after the attack that had left her deeply wounded. He had nearly been lost to that grief, to the endless desire for vengeance. But it was Legolas who had pulled him back, who had challenged him to find hope again.

Now, it was Elladan's turn to be the one asking the difficult questions. His voice softened as he spoke again, his tone filled with the kind of understanding that only centuries of friendship could provide. "You don't have to tell me, but I know something shifted after the festival. You're carrying something more than just your usual burdens. It's clouding your judgment."

Legolas exhaled, his breath shallow and controlled, but he did not look at Elladan just yet. His pride and the stoic mask he always wore kept him silent a moment longer. But Elladan was relentless in his honesty, and Legolas knew there was no point in pretending otherwise.

"Perhaps," Legolas finally admitted, his voice low, almost as if he were reluctant to acknowledge it. "Perhaps my mind has been... elsewhere."

Elladan pressed on, his tone still gentle but firm. "Is it the past that weighs on you? Or is it something else? Something new?"

For a moment, Legolas felt the urge to deny it, to bury the truth beneath layers of stoic detachment, as he had always done. But Elladan had earned his honesty, just as Legolas had earned his. They had shared too many dark nights of soul-baring talks, too many battles where their lives were on the line, to hide from each other now.

"It is both," Legolas admitted, his eyes flicking briefly toward the distant horizon. "I've spent so long holding on to the past—what I've lost, what I've failed to protect. It haunts me. The choices I made, the paths I didn't take." He paused, struggling to find the words to explain the deeper conflict within him. "But now... something has shifted. There's a new weight, something I hadn't expected. And it... it confuses me."

Elladan glanced at him, his brow furrowing. "And you thought a reckless quest would help you avoid facing it?"

Legolas gave a rueful smile, though there was little humor in it. "I thought it would give me clarity," he admitted. "But it has only made things more complicated."

Elladan nodded, understanding far more than he let on. "We all carry our burdens differently," he said quietly. "But we must face them, Legolas. You've carried guilt for too long. You've denied yourself peace, thinking it was your punishment. But perhaps it's time to stop running from your past, and from whatever this new... confusion is."

Legolas finally turned to look at Elladan, their eyes meeting in a rare moment of vulnerability. Elladan's words struck deeper than he wanted to admit. He had spent centuries telling himself he didn't deserve peace, that his path was one of endless duty and sacrifice. But now, standing in the shadow of the Misty Mountains, with Xena's face flashing in his mind more often than he cared to acknowledge, he wondered if Elladan was right.

"What would you have me do, then?" Legolas asked quietly, his voice rougher than usual. "If I can't even make sense of my own heart?"

Elladan placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder, his expression soft but firm. "You don't have to make sense of it all at once. But stop punishing yourself for things beyond your control. You've done enough. You deserve more than this endless self-denial. And as for your heart..." He gave Legolas a knowing look. "That's a path you'll have to walk yourself, but I think you already know what's in there."

Legolas gave a small nod, the weight of the conversation settling heavily in his chest. They continued walking in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, the tension between them easing but still present. It wasn't the first time Elladan had challenged him like this, and it wouldn't be the last.

As they approached the rest of the group, Legolas felt a small spark of clarity return, but it wasn't enough to ease the storm within him. He had always been the prince who carried the weight of his people, the one who never faltered. But now, he realized that perhaps it was time to stop running, to stop hiding behind his duty.

Perhaps it was time to face what had been there all along.

As the sun dipped below the mountains and the evening shadows lengthened, the group pressed on. Despite the weariness tugging at their limbs, they were all driven by a shared urgency to reach their horses and leave behind the eerie memory of the Hidden Forge. Yet, for all the determination pushing them forward, there was an unspoken heaviness in the air, a weight that each of them seemed to carry as they walked through the fading light.

Xena trudged on with her new sword slung across her back. Its weight was unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome. She had carried blades before, but this one was different, almost as if it bore the memory of the ancient halls they had traversed. She couldn't help but wonder about the circumstances that had brought them here, to this path, to this quest, with an urgency that seemed to stretch beyond her need for a new weapon. It was the unsaid things, the emotions left unacknowledged at the Autumn Fest, that she suspected had truly driven them here.

Walking a few paces behind her, Elrohir clutched his precious scripts, holding them close as if they were a lifeline. He noticed Xena's silence and, with a glance at the fragile, ancient parchment, he struck up a conversation to break the quiet.

"These scripts… they're more than just words to me," he began, his voice soft. "I've spent years trying to find things like this. It's how I... keep the darkness at bay."

Xena looked over at him, curious. There was a note of vulnerability in his voice that she hadn't heard before. "I can understand that," she replied, nodding thoughtfully. "We all have our ways of coping. My past... it wasn't an easy one. I had to find my own ways to keep moving forward."

Elrohir gave her a sidelong glance, his expression pensive. "You've mentioned before that you seek redemption. I think we all do, in one way or another." He hesitated, then added, "For Elladan and me, it's always been about our mother. When she left, it felt like the world shattered. Hunting orcs... it's our way of making amends, even if we know it won't bring her back."

Xena's gaze softened. She had heard whispers of their mother, Celebrían, and how her departure had cast a shadow over the twins. It was a pain she could relate to—loss and the hollow drive to right things that could never truly be restored. "I know that feeling," she said quietly. "The need to make things right, even when you know you can't change what's already been done."

They walked in silence for a few moments, the weight of shared grief settling between them. It was Elrohir who finally broke the quiet again, his tone shifting as he sought to lighten the mood. "Legolas, though," he began, a faint smile touching his lips, "he carries more than his share of shadows. His burden is different from ours. But sometimes I wonder if he'll ever truly allow himself peace."

Xena glanced at him sharply, a question in her eyes, but Elrohir shook his head. "There's more to his grief than the loss of his mother," he admitted, almost reluctantly. "He doesn't just feel responsible—he feels like he failed her entirely."

Xena's brow furrowed as she thought back to the quiet, haunted look she had seen in Legolas' eyes more than once. He had confided some of his pain to her, but there were always layers he kept hidden, shadows he would not name. She had sensed it in him, the unspoken weight he bore. Before she could reply, Elrohir continued, his voice low.

"He blames himself. It's not just about losing her. He feels that it's because of him that it happened. I can't imagine carrying that kind of guilt." He paused, catching himself, and then, as if to steer the conversation back to a lighter topic, he added, "Which, I suppose, is why he suddenly decided we needed to find this ancient sword."

Xena stiffened, realizing where this was going. "The sword," she replied quickly, almost too quickly, "it was important. Legolas owed me one after mine was broken, so we came here."

"Yes," Elrohir said with a smirk, "but isn't it a bit strange to venture so far just for a sword?"

At that moment, Legolas, who had been walking just ahead, overheard and turned to face them, his expression guarded but curious. "Are we discussing the reasons for this quest?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Xena met his gaze, her mind racing for a plausible answer. "It was a perfectly good reason," she insisted, crossing her arms defensively. "I needed a sword, and you said there was one worth finding."

"Exactly," Legolas added, nodding with exaggerated agreement. "The sword was lost to history, and I thought it would be fitting for you."

Elrohir, seeing right through their charade, merely shook his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure," he replied, barely containing a grin. "So, you both just happened to feel an urgent need for a sword that just so happened to require days of trekking through forgotten ruins?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Legolas started, but his confidence wavered under Elrohir's knowing look. He glanced at Xena, who seemed equally flustered.

Elladan had caught up to them by now, falling into step beside his brother, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Please, don't stop now," he teased, crossing his arms. "This is getting interesting."

Xena and Legolas exchanged a quick glance, each hoping the other would have a more convincing answer. But in the absence of one, they continued with their impromptu excuses.

"The sword," Xena began again, "it's ancient. And it seemed like a worthy quest. Why not add to our armory?"

"Yes," Legolas agreed, as if reinforcing her words would somehow make them true. "The forge is a place of legend, and we couldn't pass up the chance to see it for ourselves. And it wasn't just about the sword. It was... well, an educational experience."

Elladan snorted, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "An educational experience? In the dead of the Hidden Forge, in forgotten passages, with traps and curses? Surely there are easier ways to expand one's education."

Xena glared at the twins, but her frustration was softened by a reluctant smile. "Well, we're here, aren't we? The journey itself was an adventure."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged knowing glances, their smirks deepening. "Of course," Elrohir replied, a hint of mischief in his tone. "But it seems to me that the two of you were running away from something rather than just looking for a sword."

Legolas opened his mouth to protest, but Elladan cut him off with a grin. "It's all right," he said, a note of warmth in his voice. "We've all run from things at some point. Just make sure you know what it is you're running towards."

With that, the twins stepped back, letting Legolas and Xena continue ahead. As they walked, the two fell into a companionable silence, the awkwardness fading as they both grappled with the unspoken truths left hanging in the air. Despite the need to move on, despite the excuses and the justifications, they both knew that the journey had uncovered something neither of them was quite ready to face. For now, it was enough just to keep moving, to walk side by side through the shadows and let the path unfold before them.

((Upcoming Chapter Sixty-Nine))

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