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)

ActII

Rivals

Chapter 25: Escape from the Nazgûl

Gladden Fields, July 29th 3018 T.A.

The soft whispers of melodic voices woke Xena from her slumber. Her night had been more peaceful than it should have been, given Legolas's warnings about the Nazgûl. Despite his detailed explanations of their danger, she felt an odd detachment, perhaps due to her unfamiliarity with this world and its perils. After all, it was Legolas who suggested this path, claiming it would be safer. Yet, the Gladden Fields didn't seem safe at all. There was always the chance they might avoid the Nazgûl, so Xena didn't take the threat as seriously as she perhaps should have. Hadn't they faced danger throughout their entire journey through Mirkwood? What had changed now?

As she woke, she placed her arms under her neck and gazed at the campfire. Thalion and Mírdan were still asleep, laying on their bedding with hardly any movement. She had learned that elves could remain remarkably still for long periods, even in their sleep. The only sign of life was the gentle rise and fall of their chests with each breath.

A little further from the camp, she noticed two figures standing with their backs towards her, facing the bank of the River Anduin. She sat up, recognizing Elros and Legolas. They were speaking in Elvish, their voices a melodic murmur. Curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to walk up and see what was the matter.

"...then you don't trust her?" Elros asked. By the time Xena had stood up and moved closer to the riverbank, they had switched to the common tongue. "I thought you were on better terms."

Legolas's tone was measured, but firm. "Trust is not something that can be given freely, Elros. It must be earned, and she has yet to earn it fully."

Xena paused, listening to their conversation a little longer, her irritation growing. She didn't like the idea of being discussed behind her back, especially if it concerned her trustworthiness. Deciding she'd heard enough, she stepped forward, making her presence known.

Xena had heard enough. She stepped forward, her voice steady. "If you have something to say about me, Legolas, I'd prefer you say it to my face."

Both elves turned to face her. Elros looked slightly uncomfortable, but Legolas met her gaze with a steady, unyielding look.

"Xena," he began, his tone neutral. "We were discussing the potential dangers ahead and the trust we must have in each other to face them."

"Trust works both ways," Xena replied, stepping closer. "Just as you don't trust me, I don't trust you either."

Legolas's eyes flashed briefly with a hint of frustration. "It's not that simple. You have my respect. Your fight against evil and your warrior code have earned that. But I don't like you. Your actions, while brave, are unpredictable. You rush into situations without considering the consequences."

Xena's temper flared. "And you think I'm reckless? I've faced dangers you can't even imagine, and I've survived. I don't need you questioning my every move."

Elros intervened, trying to diffuse the tension. "We need to work together, both of you. This mission requires all of us to be on the same page. We can't afford any more discord."

Xena took a deep breath, calming herself. "You're right, Elros. You have my respect as well, but I am careful who I trust. And you can rest assured that I don't like you either."

Legolas sighed, the tension in his shoulders noticeable. "Perhaps we've misunderstood each other. I do not doubt your bravery, Xena. However, since the time I met you, you have kept your secrets. From why you sought me out to why you followed us. Do you think that my lack of faith in you is mistaken?"

Xena nodded. "You aren't wrong, but I don't expect to earn trust easily either. Has anyone told you, you're annoying as hell, elf?"

"I can live with that," Legolas responded, his demeanor calming down. "It's not like you're any less irritating yourself."

"Then everything is good," Xena said with an ironic smile on her lips. "No trouble for our journey to continue."

Legolas nodded, the tension easing slightly. He had been honest with her about respecting her, no longer viewing her with the same distrust and suspicion as when they first met. But respect did not equate to friendship.

Xena felt similarly. The elf irritated her to no end, even though he had earned her respect. What she couldn't tolerate was hearing his opinions about her being discussed with someone else. She preferred direct confrontation.

Elros looked between them, a hint of relief in his eyes. He knew both were prideful, stubborn idiots who could easily start another fight. "Good. Let's prepare for the day ahead."

As the three returned to the camp, the morning sun began to rise, casting a warm glow over the river. The brief confrontation was, for now, forgotten. Thalion and Mírdan were waking up, their movements slow and methodical. The group had a quick breakfast, packing up their camp swiftly and efficiently, readying themselves to ride on.

Legolas gathered them together, his expression serious. "When we reach the Gladden Fields, we need to ride fast to pass through as quickly as possible. I won't put us in unnecessary danger if it can be avoided."

Everyone agreed, understanding the gravity of his warning. As the sun rose higher, they mounted their horses and started their journey once more. The tension from the earlier argument had dissipated, replaced by a shared focus on the path ahead.

The ride was brisk and purposeful, the group moving with a united determination. The landscape gradually changed as they approached the Gladden Fields. The once green and open fields became marshier, the ground softer underfoot, and the air grew thick with humidity.

Legolas led the way, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. Elros rode beside him, his own vigilance matching that of his friend. Thalion and Mírdan flanked them, their expressions grim but resolute. Xena brought up the rear, her senses alert to any movement around them.

The closer they got to the Gladden Fields, the more their unease grew. The possibility of the Nazgûl's presence weighed heavily on their minds. But they were prepared, their resolve strengthened by the knowledge of the risks and the necessity of their mission.

As they entered the marshlands, the pace quickened. The horses navigated the soft ground carefully, their riders urging them onward. The sound of hooves splashing through shallow water and the occasional squelch of mud were the only noises breaking the heavy silence.

Legolas's voice cut through the air, low but commanding. "Stay close. Keep your eyes open."

They rode on, the tension palpable. Every shadow seemed to move, every rustle of reeds sent a shiver down their spines. Yet they pushed forward, driven by the urgency to cross the Gladden Fields before nightfall.

Suddenly, the eerie silence was shattered by a guttural roar. From the shadows, a group of orcs burst forth, weapons raised and eyes gleaming with malice. The company drew their weapons in unison, the clash of steel ringing out as they engaged their attackers.

The assault began violently and abruptly. There were no buildups, no wasted action; each movement was planned to flow seamlessly into the next, with the sole intention of killing them. The orcs' weapons were old and damaged, their tactics brutal and without honor. Their sole goal was to kill the company.

Elros swung his sword with lethal precision, his blade moving faster than ever. His years of training as a hunter and warrior were evident in every strike. He was a force of nature, cutting down orcs with an efficiency that spoke of countless battles fought and won. His movements were fluid and deadly, each slash of his sword taking down an enemy with ruthless efficiency.

Legolas's bow sang as he released arrow after arrow, each one finding its mark with deadly precision. He noticed the number of orcs increasing, and his main thought was to escape. Even if they could win the battle, it wasn't worth the risk, especially with the potential presence of a Nazgûl. His priority was to bring the message to Lord Elrond and keep his company safe. In different circumstances, he would have stood and fought, but not today.

Her body jolted from one way to the other in sync with the appropriate assault lines. To an outside viewer, it would seem like a simultaneous whirlwind of movement, with blinding velocity, a blur too quick for the eye to follow. Her combat screams, "Alalaes," echoed across the battlefield as she flipped and jumped in ways the elf had never seen before. The situation had grown dire, and no corrections were possible. She used her chakram, slicing through the enemy as effectively as Legolas used his bow and arrows.

Thalion and Mírdan fought equally strongly, their bows and swords slicing through the orcs. They rode through the enemy ranks, cutting and riding forward with the sole plan of escape. They were not there to win the battle, only to survive it.

Next to them, Legolas fought an equally inhuman struggle, slicing and slaying through the orcs while displaying all of his abilities. He leaped and avoided as many blows as possible, unaffected by gravity. A dangerous and frightening spark appeared in his grey eyes as he occasionally turned his focus to his companions, reminding them to ride forward and try to escape.

The air was thick with the sounds of clashing steel and battle cries. Elros moved with the grace of a dancer, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. Each movement was a testament to his skill, his blade finding its mark again and again. The orcs fell before him, their blood staining the ground.

Legolas's arrows flew true, each one a deadly whisper in the chaos. He moved with the fluidity of a river, his eyes sharp and focused. He knew that their only chance was to escape, to put as much distance between them and the orcs as possible. His mind raced with strategies, each one discarded as quickly as it was formed.

Xena's movements were a blur, her body a symphony of lethal grace. She moved with the speed and precision of a predator, her chakram slicing through the orcs with ease. Her cries of "Alalaes" echoed through the battlefield, a testament to her indomitable spirit. She fought with a ferocity that took even the seasoned warriors by surprise, her movements a blur of deadly intent.

Thalion and Mírdan rode through the orcs, their swords and bows cutting a path of destruction. They fought with the desperation of those who knew that their lives depended on it. Their eyes were fixed on the horizon, their only thought to escape.

The battle was a chaotic dance of death, each warrior moving with a purpose born of necessity. They fought with everything they had, their weapons singing a deadly song. The orcs were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless, but the company fought on, their determination unwavering.

Despite their efforts, the orcs were numerous, and the battle was grueling. Wounds were sustained, and exhaustion began to take its toll. Thalion and Mírdan managed to ride forward, guiding the way out of the enormous orc horde. Elros was right behind them, securing the way for Legolas and Xena to follow.

Legolas kept reminding them to keep riding out of the chaos, even if they escaped first. The plan was to flee as fast as they could, not remain behind and fight. Xena and he followed the same path out, behind the rest of the company.

Just when it seemed the tide was turning against them, and they were about to escape, a bone-chilling scream pierced the air. Legolas had heard the stories and knew what was coming. He called out to them to run, knowing that running was their only chance of safety.

The shriek of the Nazgûl was followed by another, sending chills down their spines. The wraiths' presence seemed to sap the strength from their limbs, the darkness they brought almost tangible. Legolas's heart sank as he saw the wraiths approaching. The fear he had warned them about was now a reality.

Two or three Nazgûl appeared, their dark forms looming over the battlefield. They might have heard the battle, but it was not the only thing that called them. It was Legolas. Among Sauron's forces, it was no secret that he wanted the prince dead. The order had been given centuries ago, but it was still valid.

The Nazgûl targeted Legolas, seeing him as a great prize for Sauron, especially since they had not found the ring yet. After Gollum's escape, Sauron had ordered them to find the One Ring and every night the Nazgûl rode out, but until today, they had not managed to bring any news. Today, they might return with a trophy.

Legolas knew what they were dealing with. His order was direct: "Elros, Thalion, Mírdan, keep running! Get to safety!"

Thalion and Mírdan did not disobey their prince's command. They kept riding, determined to escape. Elros, however, delayed, waiting for Legolas and Xena to catch up.

Legolas and Xena were fighting off the last of the orcs when the Nazgûl descended upon them. The wraiths' presence was overwhelming, their dark aura sapping the will to fight. Xena felt a cold dread settle over her, but she steeled herself, refusing to give in to fear.

"Run, Xena!" Legolas shouted, his voice urgent.

The plan was clear: run and escape. Xena and the others rode hard, fleeing from the Nazgûl and the orcs that had ambushed them. Legolas was right behind her, his face set in determination. The Nazgûl were catching up, their speed terrifying. Yet, it seemed they might manage to escape.

But as they neared what seemed like safety, the situation changed. The Nazgûl rode with inhuman speed, slaughtering any orc that crossed their path. They were relentless, their focus solely on capturing Legolas. The remaining orcs were left behind.

Thalion and Mírdan were ahead, maintaining a safe distance. Elros rode behind them, occasionally looking back to ensure that Xena and Legolas were keeping pace. Thranduil had sent Elros not just to deliver a message but to protect his son. Knowing Legolas's capabilities, Elros kept a strategic distance, ready to intervene if necessary.

Xena rode behind Elros, her mind focused on escaping. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure Legolas was following. Instead, she saw the Nazgûl closing in on him, their dark forms almost surrounding the elf. It became clear: they were targeting Legolas.

Her thoughts raced, and she recalled the quest she had accepted long ago, one that involved an order for Legolas's death. The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning—the Nazgûl were after Legolas specifically. She turned her horse around, her only thought to help the annoying yet valiant elf.

Legolas was now surrounded by the Nazgûl. He had stopped running and turned to face them, his eyes sharp and determined. His goal was not to fight them head-on but to find a way to escape.

The fight was intense. Legolas moved with the grace and speed of his kind, dodging and weaving through the Nazgûl's attacks. His swords flashed in the dim light, deflecting their strikes. Two of the Nazgûl pressed him hard, their dark blades aiming to end his life. Legolas parried and dodged, using every ounce of his agility to stay ahead of their deadly blows.

Suddenly, Legolas didn't see the third Nazgûl approaching from behind, its blade aimed for a deadly strike. Xena, having watched what was happening, rode back toward Legolas instead of running. With a fierce battle cry, she launched herself at the nearest Nazgûl, her sword clashing against the dark blade. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through her, but she held her ground, her eyes blazing with defiance.

Both the Nazgûl and Xena fell from their horses. Xena jumped up faster than the Nazgûl, who managed to get up and launch an attack against her. She dodged or struck back at every blow, ending back-to-back with Legolas, who had also leaped from his horse and was dealing with the other two Nazgûl.

Legolas seemed angry that she had disobeyed his command, but the Nazgûl did not give him any time to call her out on it. He managed to call for their horses to run before they could be hurt by the Nazgûl.

Elros, who had noticed that Legolas and Xena were fighting the Nazgûl, rode back with his only mission being to bring Legolas out of the fight. He saw that both Legolas and Xena were trying to escape, having already realized they could not win against the Nazgûl.

With Elros joining the attack, the balance shifted slightly. They slowly stepped back, aiming to reach their horses and run. But then, in the blink of an eye, Xena noticed a Nazgûl's blade aiming directly for Legolas's heart. She would not let anyone die on her watch, even someone she found annoying.

Seeing the wraith bearing down on Legolas, Xena didn't hesitate. With a fierce battle cry, she launched herself into the fray, her sword clashing against the Nazgûl's dark blade. The force of the blow sent a shockwave through her, and the blade cut deeply through her right side.

The cut burned, unlike any wound she had ever received. It felt as if it attacked not just her body but her very soul, like a dark poison overwhelming her. But she stood her ground.

"Xena, no!" Legolas shouted, his voice filled with fear for her safety.

Ignoring his plea, Xena continued her assault. The Nazgûl's power was immense, and each strike sent a jolt of dark energy through her. The cut burned, and the darkness only awoke more wrath within her. She staggered, blood flowing from the wound, but she didn't fall. Instead, she used the last of her strength to land a powerful blow on the Nazgûl, momentarily driving it back.

Legolas, seeing his chance, unleashed a flurry of arrows, each one finding its mark with deadly accuracy. The Nazgûl weakened and temporarily repelled, let out another bone-chilling scream before retreating into the shadows.

With Elros's aid, Legolas's flurry attack, and Xena's fierce determination, they managed to weaken the Nazgûl for a moment. Elros rode on, and Legolas called the horses, rushing to Xena's side. She was losing her balance, the strike taking its toll. There was no time to observe the wound closely. Escape was their only option.

Legolas grabbed her, leaping onto his horse and pulling her up in front of him, calling her horse to follow. "Hold on, Xena," he urged, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.

Xena, barely conscious, nodded weakly. The pain was intense, but she clung to Legolas, trusting him to get them to safety. They rode hard, the remaining Nazgûl unable to keep up with their swift escape.

They rode forward as fast as they could, Thalion and Mírdan leading, with Elros, and Legolas supporting Xena behind them. It was the hardest ride they had ever endured, the Nazgûl relentless in their pursuit.

Legolas and Elros called out to the others, urging them to keep riding ahead. Legolas's right hand pressed firmly against Xena's wound, trying to stem the bleeding. There was little more he could do while they rode. Xena, teetering on the edge of consciousness, fought against the pull of the deep darkness threatening to engulf her. The wound was serious, but not fatal—at least, not yet. She realized it was the Nazgûl's blade that was causing her such turmoil, its dark magic poisoning her.

They rode straight for two days, the Nazgûl never far behind. Each time the wraiths got close, the company pushed their horses harder, driven by sheer desperation. Legolas kept a constant watch on Xena, his concern growing with each passing hour.

By the night of the second day, they reached safer ground. They rode a few yards into the forest, the dense trees offering some semblance of protection. Finally, they noticed that the Nazgûl were no longer behind them. The wraiths could not follow them into the outskirts of Lothlórien. Only then did their relentless chase come to a halt.

((Upcoming Chapter Twenty - Six))

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