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)
Act II
Belonging
Chapter 123: Of Fires, Laughter, and Reflection
Gondor, 3019 TA, July 7th - 21th
The morning sun climbed higher into the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the forested edges of Mirkwood as Legolas and Xena rode out. The towering trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets only the elves could understand. It was a beautiful day for travel, the kind that could almost lull a traveler into forgetting the world's darker corners—almost.
Xena rode slightly behind Legolas, her thoughts preoccupied with the earlier events at the gates. She adjusted her posture in the saddle, her fingers brushing over the braids Legolas had woven into her hair. Her eyes narrowed as her mind lingered on Thranduil's parting words, her irritation simmering just below the surface.
Legolas, ever attuned to her moods, glanced back over his shoulder. "You're unusually quiet," he remarked, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. "Is something troubling you?"
Xena fixed him with a pointed look. "Oh, nothing at all, my prince. Except for the small matter of this braid on my head."
Legolas sighed inwardly, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. "Ah," he said, his tone carefully neutral. "The braid."
"Yes, the braid." Xena leaned forward slightly, her blue eyes narrowing. "Tell me, Legolas, how long were you planning to keep it a secret that your father thinks I'm his 'Princess of Mirkwood' now?"
Legolas winced, the words landing exactly as he'd feared. "It's… ceremonial," he began cautiously. "A gesture of recognition, nothing more."
"Nothing more?" she repeated, her voice sharp. "You braided my hair with that meaning and didn't think to tell me?"
"I thought it might… complicate things," he admitted, turning back to face the road ahead.
"Complicate things?" Xena's tone dripped with sarcasm. "What could be more complicated than finding out your partner's father thinks you've married into his royal family without so much as a conversation?"
Legolas sighed, adjusting his grip on Arod's reins. "Xena, I didn't mean to deceive you. The braids are a sign of respect, of acknowledgment. They don't bind you to anything."
She tilted her head, her tone softening slightly. "And yet, they're on my head. Binding or not, it feels… significant."
Legolas turned back to her, his expression earnest. "It is significant, but only because I wanted you to have something that represented how I see you: as my equal, my partner. Whether you embrace the title or not, the meaning remains the same."
Xena studied him for a moment, her irritation fading into something more thoughtful. "You're lucky you're good with words," she muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Legolas smirked, his usual composure returning. "And you're lucky I'm patient."
As the hours passed, the dense trees of Mirkwood began to thin, giving way to open meadows dotted with wildflowers. The sunlight grew brighter, the air fresher. The road was well-worn but quiet, the sounds of their horses' hooves the only constant companion.
They stopped briefly by a clear stream to rest the horses. Xena knelt by the water, splashing her face and letting the coolness chase away the midday heat. Legolas stood nearby, his bow slung across his back as he kept watch, his elven eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble.
"You're always on edge," Xena said, breaking the silence. She tilted her head to look up at him, droplets of water glistening on her skin. "We're not in enemy territory anymore, you know."
Legolas didn't look at her, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. "Caution is a habit hard to break. The world may be quieter now, but shadows can linger in unexpected places."
Xena rose to her feet, brushing her hands on her armor. "Fair enough. But sometimes, it's okay to just… be."
He turned to her then, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'll keep that in mind."
They remounted their horses and continued south, the road stretching long before them. The landscape shifted gradually, the towering trees of the forest giving way to rolling hills and wide-open skies. The wind carried the scent of grass and earth, a refreshing change from the dense, fragrant air of Mirkwood.
As the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, they found a small grove to make camp for the night. The trees here were sparse, their branches reaching high like open arms, and a gentle stream meandered nearby.
Legolas set about gathering wood for a fire, while Xena unpacked their provisions. They worked in companionable silence, the rhythm of their actions speaking to their familiarity with one another.
Once the fire was lit, Xena stretched out on the grass, her back against a fallen log. "It's been a while since I've had a quiet night like this," she admitted, gazing up at the stars as they began to appear.
Legolas, sitting cross-legged by the fire, glanced at her. "Do you miss it? The quiet?"
"Sometimes," she said honestly. "But I've never been good at sitting still for too long. There's always another battle to fight, another road to travel."
He nodded, his gaze distant. "I understand that well. But perhaps, for tonight, we can let the world wait."
She smirked, leaning her head back against the log. "For tonight."
The fire crackled softly, its warm glow casting flickering shadows across their faces. The stars above shone brightly, unclouded and endless, a reminder of the vastness of the world—and the journey still ahead.
The evening was calm, the fire crackling softly as the stars above dotted the vast sky. The grove they'd chosen for the night was quiet, save for the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. Legolas returned to the fire with a small bundle of bread and cheese in hand, sitting beside Xena on the fallen log where she had stretched out.
He handed her a piece of cheese with bread, his movements graceful, as always. Xena glanced at the offering, her lips curving into a faint smirk as she took it. "You know," she began, breaking the bread in half, "if we'd stopped to make camp earlier, I could've caught us some fish."
Legolas raised an elegant brow, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "Fish again?" he asked, his voice tinged with playful complaint. "Do you know how much I dislike the smell of those creatures?"
Xena laughed, popping a piece of cheese into her mouth. "You've mentioned it, mushroom prince. But unlike you, I happen to like the taste. And fishing? It's calming—something you might want to try."
Legolas shook his head, his blond hair catching the firelight as he replied, "I think not. Perhaps you should find another way to calm yourself that doesn't involve slimy, smelly fish."
His comment was meant in jest, but Xena's eyes lit up with sudden excitement, the kind that immediately put him on edge. She fell silent, finishing her bread and cheese with deliberate slowness, and that silence only made him more uneasy.
"What is it?" he asked, watching her closely. "What are you planning?"
She gave him a sly smile, her lips twitching as if holding back a laugh. "Oh, nothing yet," she said casually, though her expression suggested otherwise.
Legolas sighed, gathering the remaining bread and cheese. He carefully packed them back into his travel bag, glancing over his shoulder at her as he did. "Whatever you're thinking, I can already tell it's going to make me regret saying anything."
When he turned back toward his bedroll, he found Xena standing directly in front of him, her blue eyes gleaming with mischief. She moved so quickly and fluidly that he barely had time to react before she blocked his path.
"Xena," he began, tilting his head in mild confusion. "What are you—"
She placed both hands firmly on his shoulders, cutting him off mid-sentence as she leaned in close, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "You said I should find another way to calm down," she whispered. "Well, mushroom prince, since you've vetoed fishing, I think it's your job to entertain me."
Legolas blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Entertain you? What exactly—"
Before he could finish, her lips met his in a bold, demanding kiss that left no room for misunderstanding. The force of her kiss pushed him back slightly until his shoulders pressed against the rough bark of a nearby tree. His hands hovered at her arms, unsure whether to pull her closer or stop her altogether.
When they finally broke apart, his breath was uneven, and his wide eyes met her playful gaze. "Xena, wait," he said softly, his hands lightly gripping her arms to steady both of them.
Xena stepped back just enough to give him an incredulous look, her expression somewhere between amusement and irritation. "Wait for what?" she asked, tilting her head. "You're not shy, are you? We've done this before, Legolas. The kissing part. Even the… more adventurous part."
He exhaled, his hesitation plain. "It's not that," he admitted, his voice quiet but earnest. "You're still injured. I'm worried."
Xena laughed, the sound light and teasing. "Oh, that's what this is about?" She leaned in slightly, her smirk widening. "Relax, my sweet prince. I'm not asking for anything… adventurous. Just a kiss."
Her eyes gleamed as she leaned even closer, her lips brushing his ear. "Though," she whispered playfully, "it's sweet that you were thinking about it."
For the first time, she saw it—Legolas blushed. Not the faint pink tinge she'd noticed before, but a deep, rosy red that crept across his cheeks and down his neck. She stared at him, wide-eyed, before bursting into laughter.
"You're blushing!" she exclaimed, stepping back slightly but still holding onto his shoulders. "I didn't even know elves could blush like that!"
Legolas looked away, his composure faltering further under her teasing. "I'm glad you find this so amusing," he muttered, though his tone was more flustered than irritated.
Xena wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer again. "Oh, don't hide it," she said, her voice softening as her laughter faded. "You're adorable like this."
She leaned in again, her lips brushing his gently this time. Unlike the first kiss, this one was slower, sweeter, filled with a quiet intensity that made time seem to stand still.
Legolas hesitated for only a moment before he gave in, his arms wrapping around her as he kissed her back. There was no urgency, no rush—just the shared warmth of two people finding solace in each other after so much turmoil.
When they finally pulled apart, Xena rested her forehead against his, her eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. "See?" she murmured. "No harm done."
Legolas smiled faintly, his blush lingering but his eyes soft. "You are impossible, Xena."
"And you love it," she teased, her grin mischievous.
He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I do," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than you know."
As the fire crackled nearby and the stars shone brightly above, they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, letting the night hold them in its quiet embrace. Xena lay on her back atop the soft bedding Legolas had prepared, her arms stretched above her head, her gaze fixed on the stars. Beside her, Legolas rested close, his golden hair spilling over his shoulders as he turned his head to watch her.
"The stars seem brighter here," Xena murmured, her voice soft.
"They always shine brightest in the stillness of the forest," Legolas replied, his tone equally quiet.
She tilted her head slightly to meet his gaze, a small smile playing on her lips. "You sound like you've spent centuries thinking about it."
"I have," he admitted, his eyes softening. "But tonight, they pale in comparison to you."
Xena laughed softly, shaking her head. "Careful, mushroom prince. You'll give me an ego."
Legolas smirked faintly, but he didn't reply. Instead, he turned onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he leaned over her. His hand came up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch light and reverent. The moment lingered, the warmth of his gaze making her breath catch.
Then, slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was both tender and deliberate. The kiss deepened, their movements unhurried as they let the world fade away. The stars above seemed to blur into the background as the night became theirs alone.
Their quiet exchange of affection turned into something more, a shared intimacy that unfolded naturally under the cover of night. Legolas, though graceful and composed, found himself uncharacteristically flustered as Xena teased him softly, delighting in the way his normally unreadable demeanor gave way to blushes and quiet laughter.
By the time they finally succumbed to exhaustion, their bedding was scattered, their gear carelessly left where it had fallen in the midst of their small, private adventure. Legolas lay beside her, his arm draped protectively over her waist as they drifted into a peaceful sleep, the stars still watching over them.
The first light of dawn crept into the grove, painting the clearing in hues of gold and pink. Xena stirred first, stretching lazily as she blinked against the sunlight. She glanced around, immediately noting the scattered remnants of their belongings.
"Great," she muttered, sitting up and running a hand through her disheveled hair. "Where did I throw my boots?"
Legolas groaned softly, rubbing his eyes as he woke beside her. He sat up, his hair even more mussed than usual, though it only added to his charm. "We don't have time for this," he said, his voice still heavy with sleep. "If we linger too long, we'll be late."
Xena smirked, pulling her tunic over her head as she glanced at him. "You're the one who said I needed to rest because of my injury, remember?"
Legolas sighed, his expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Resting was not exactly what we were doing last night."
Xena paused, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, so it's my fault now?"
He gave her a pointed look, though his lips twitched as if fighting a smile. "I'm not assigning blame. I'm simply stating the facts."
"Fine," she said, tugging on her boots. "Then we'll rest properly from now on. No more kissing, no more 'adventurous distractions.'"
Legolas's face fell, his expression resembling that of a scolded child. His brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest.
Xena paused, watching him with a bemused smile. "You're terrible at hiding your emotions, you know that?"
He looked away, clearing his throat, but she caught the faint blush rising to his cheeks.
Her teasing smile softened as she stepped closer, her hand reaching out to take his. "Come now, sad prince," she whispered, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "I wouldn't take away the kissing. What kind of monster do you think I am?"
Legolas smiled at last, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her into a warm embrace. "A generous monster, perhaps," he murmured against her hair, the lightness returning to his tone.
"Flatterer," she teased, nudging him playfully as they pulled apart.
Together, they packed their belongings, carefully gathering the scattered pieces of gear and ensuring everything was in place for their journey. By the time they mounted their horses, the sun was fully risen, casting a golden glow over the forest.
As they rode out, Xena glanced at Legolas, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Next time, mushroom prince, let's try not to lose half our camp during a 'restful' evening."
Legolas chuckled, his voice warm. "As long as you promise not to distract me."
"No promises," she shot back, spurring Chubby forward with a laugh. Their laughter echoed through the trees as they rode on.
The days of their journey were long but not burdensome. Legolas and Xena rode hard, determined not to miss Aragorn and Arwen's wedding. Though their pace was swift, the companionship and shared laughter made the journey one of the most enjoyable they'd ever taken. The danger was scarce, with only a few stray orcs crossing their path—easily dispatched by their combined skill.
On the third evening, they made camp near the Anduin, its gentle waters glistening under the silver moonlight. Across the river, the golden woods of Lothlórien rose in the distance, their soft glow a reminder of the timeless beauty of Galadriel's realm. The air was cool, the night alive with the distant hum of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.
Xena had gone fishing while Legolas prepared the camp, arranging their belongings and tending to the horses. When she returned with her catch, she ignored his subtle grimace as she began cleaning and cooking the fish over the fire.
"Honestly, I don't see how you enjoy eating those creatures," Legolas remarked, his voice laced with mild disdain as he watched her sprinkle seasoning over the cooking fish.
"And I don't see how you can survive on bread and cheese forever," Xena shot back, grinning. "Fishing calms me. You should try it."
Legolas raised an eyebrow. "The day I willingly touch a fish will be the day you stop calling me 'mushroom prince.'"
Xena smirked. "Deal."
Once the fish was finished, Xena enjoyed her meal while Legolas remained content with his elven rations. Afterward, as she cleaned up, Legolas approached her, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"You missed a spot," he said, gesturing to a streak of fish juice on her arm.
Xena rolled her eyes. "Oh, no. The prince of Mirkwood has noticed my mortal imperfections. Whatever shall I do?"
Before she could say more, Legolas scooped her up effortlessly, throwing her over his shoulder.
"Legolas!" she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-protesting as he carried her toward the river. "Put me down, you pointy-eared tree hugger!"
He chuckled, his voice light with amusement. "You said the river was calming. Allow me to help you 'calm down.'"
Without further warning, he waded into the cool water and set her down. Xena retaliated immediately, splashing him with as much force as she could muster. Legolas dodged most of the water with his elven agility, but the few splashes that landed earned a playful glare.
"So, it's a fight you want?" he teased, splashing her back with precision.
The water battle escalated quickly, laughter echoing through the quiet night as they splashed and chased each other in the shallows. Eventually, they both stumbled deeper into the river, soaked to the skin but grinning like children.
After their impromptu bath, they returned to camp, hanging their wet clothes on nearby tree branches to dry. Wrapped in towels, they sat by the fire, their skin still damp but warmed by the flames.
Xena leaned back against Legolas, his arms draped loosely around her shoulders. She let out a content sigh, her head resting against his chest. "You know, for someone who claims to hate fish, you've had a pretty good time tonight."
"Perhaps," Legolas said, his tone teasing, "but I maintain that the fish had nothing to do with it."
She chuckled, her laughter fading into a comfortable silence. Legolas shifted slightly, reaching into his pack and pulling out something small. He pressed it into her palm, his fingers lingering over hers.
Xena opened her hand to find the brooch, Lasgalen—the Little Leaf. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she glanced up at him. "I thought I left this with your father."
"You did," Legolas said softly. "He returned it to me. But now I'm giving it back to you."
Her eyes searched his, uncertainty flickering across her face. "Legolas, this belonged to your mother. It's the only thing you have of her."
"It was the only thing I had of her," he corrected gently, covering her hand with his. "Now, the most important thing I have is you. I want you to keep it."
Xena stared at him, speechless for a moment. Finally, she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."
She tucked the brooch safely into her pack, her hand finding his as she leaned into him. "Tell me about her," she said softly. "You don't talk about her much."
Legolas's arms tightened around her, his voice quiet but steady as he began to speak. "My mother was a figure of elegance and wisdom. She guided me in everything—diplomacy, the arts, the subtleties of our traditions. She believed knowledge was as powerful a weapon as any blade."
Xena listened intently, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on his hand.
"She was strict," Legolas continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Most assume it was my father who opposed my path as a warrior, but it was her. She wanted me to follow in her footsteps—she was a true queen, in every sense of the word."
"She must have loved you," Xena said softly. "To protect you, to teach you… it's clear both your parents loved you."
Legolas nodded. "I see that now. I made mistakes, as did they. I thought my father resented me for what happened to her, but I was wrong. He's shown me that in his own way."
He paused, his gaze distant. "If my mother were alive today, I think she would have liked you."
Xena laughed lightly, shaking her head. "I doubt it. She'd want you with someone regal and royal, not a stubborn warrior who could kick your butt."
Legolas chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Perhaps. But my father would win that argument. He'd prefer someone who loves me."
Xena smirked, tilting her head to look up at him. "And you think I love you, mushroom prince? What makes you so sure?"
He smiled down at her, his blue eyes gleaming with affection. "A few things. Namely, the part where you nearly died to save me. And the part where you were ready to fight my father for me."
She sat up, her brows rising. "He told you about that?"
Legolas's smirk widened. "Yes. There are few on Middle-earth bold enough to challenge Thranduil. You're certainly one of them."
Xena groaned, shaking her head. "Don't laugh. I ended up in his dungeons for your sake."
Legolas chuckled softly. "You didn't last long there. When I was young, he locked me up for weeks after I rode near Dol Guldur."
Her curiosity piqued, Xena leaned closer. "Really? What did you do?"
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Legolas pulled her back against him and began telling her the story of his youthful misadventures. As the night deepened, their laughter mingled with the crackle of the fire and the distant murmur of the Anduin, carrying with it the promise of more shared adventures to come.
The journey was relentless, their pace steady and swift as the days bled into one another. With Minas Tirith still ahead and time running short, Legolas and Xena rode hard, stopping only for brief moments to rest and tend to their horses. Xena, fully recovered, matched Legolas's endurance with ease, the two of them riding as though the wind itself carried them forward.
It wasn't until they approached Edoras that they allowed themselves a longer rest. The golden plains of Rohan stretched out before them under the vast summer sky, the stars gleaming brighter here than anywhere else they had traveled. They made camp near a small grove, a faint breeze rustling through the grass as they built a modest fire to ward off the night's chill.
Legolas and Xena sat close by the fire, the flickering flames casting warm light over their faces. Xena leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the star-strewn sky, her expression thoughtful. Legolas sat beside her, his posture relaxed but his sharp eyes observing her closely.
"You've told me many stories," he began, his voice soft but curious. "But I feel as though there's still so much I don't know about you."
Xena turned her head, raising an eyebrow at him. "Oh? What more is there to know?"
Legolas smiled faintly, his tone light but sincere. "Much, I imagine. You've spoken of Gabrielle before—your friend, the one who brought you to Middle-earth. Tell me more about her."
Xena's smile faded, replaced by a softer, more somber expression. She turned her gaze back to the stars, her voice quieter now. "Gabrielle was my light. My best friend, my family. She believed in me when no one else did—when I didn't believe in myself. She saw something in me worth saving."
Legolas listened intently, his head tilting slightly as he absorbed her words. "And she brought you here, after…?" He trailed off, not wanting to tread too heavily on painful memories.
Xena nodded. "After I died, yes. Gabrielle ensured I had a second chance here. But she… she didn't come with me."
Legolas's brow furrowed in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Xena. That must have been a heavy burden to carry."
"It is," Xena admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "But it's not just Gabrielle. There were others. My son… my firstborn, Solan. I lost him because of my own mistakes. And Eve, my daughter—I left her behind. I left them all behind."
Her words hung heavy in the air, the weight of her grief palpable. Legolas reached out, gently taking her hand in his. His touch was grounding, steadying her in a way that words could not.
"You carry so much," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet admiration. "Yet you keep moving forward. That is no small feat, Xena."
She turned to look at him, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I have no choice but to move forward, Legolas. I can't go back, but I can honor them by trying to atone for the lives I've taken."
Legolas's hand tightened around hers, his gaze unwavering. "And how can I help you in that, meleth nîn?"
Xena gave him a faint smile, her voice steadier now. "Just stay by my side. Help me make a difference where it matters. That's all I can ask."
He nodded, a solemn understanding passing between them. "I will," he promised. "But know that you've already made a difference, not just for others, but for me."
Xena arched an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a small smirk despite the heaviness of the moment. "Oh? And how's that?"
Legolas's smile was faint but genuine. "You've shown me that redemption is not a solitary path. That even in the darkest of times, there is still light to be found—and shared."
She gazed at him for a long moment before leaning into his embrace, resting her head against his chest as his arms wrapped around her. "We're both on the same path, then," she murmured. "Trying to make up for what we've done wrong."
Legolas rested his chin lightly against her hair. "Yes," he said. "But we're not alone anymore."
For a while, they sat in silence, the fire crackling softly beside them. The warmth of their shared moment settled over them, pushing back the lingering sadness. The stars above seemed to shine a little brighter, as though acknowledging their resolve. They stayed by the fire a little longer, the night passing in quiet peace. In the morning, the journey would resume, but for now, they savored the stillness, knowing it was moments like these that made the long road worth traveling.
The days leading up to Minas Tirith blurred together, the long hours of riding broken only by brief stops to rest their horses and gather their strength. The landscape changed as they crossed the plains of Rohan, moving from the rolling golden hills to the jagged foothills and lush river valleys that marked the path to Gondor. The wind carried the scents of summer—fresh grass, wildflowers, and the faint tang of distant water.
Legolas and Xena rode with purpose, their pace brisk but measured. There was little time for leisure, yet the quiet camaraderie they shared made the journey feel less arduous. As the days passed, they spoke of many things—memories of past battles, thoughts of their friends awaiting them, and the looming joy of Aragorn and Arwen's union.
On the final night before reaching the White City, they camped near the River Erui, its gentle flow a soothing accompaniment to the rustling of the trees. The stars shone brilliantly, their reflections shimmering in the water. Though both were eager to reach their destination, they allowed themselves a moment to breathe, knowing the wedding festivities would leave little time for such quiet reflection.
As they sat by the fire, Legolas turned his gaze to Xena, who was polishing her armor in preparation for their arrival. Her movements were precise, her focus unwavering, yet he could see the faint glimmer of excitement in her eyes.
"You're eager," he remarked with a soft smile.
Xena glanced at him, her lips quirking upward. "Of course I am. It's Aragorn's wedding. I'm not missing that for anything."
Legolas chuckled, leaning back against a tree. "You've always had a way of making your priorities clear."
"And you?" she asked, setting her armor aside. "Are you ready to see your closest friend wed?"
His expression softened, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "It feels… surreal. We've fought so long for this peace, and now, to see it culminate in such joy—it's more than I could have hoped for."
Xena leaned closer, resting her hand lightly on his. "You deserve to celebrate this, Legolas. Both of you do."
He turned his hand to entwine his fingers with hers, his voice quieter now. "And what about you? Do you feel ready for such celebrations?"
She smirked, her tone teasing. "I'm always ready for a party. Don't worry, mushroom prince—I'll even try not to embarrass you."
Legolas shook his head, smiling. "Somehow, I doubt that."
Before dawn, they broke camp, the morning air cool and crisp as they saddled their horses. The faint glow of the rising sun painted the horizon in hues of gold and pink, illuminating the road ahead. Arod and Chubby moved steadily beneath them, their steps sure as they neared their destination.
The final stretch of the journey was marked by the gradual transformation of the landscape. The grassy plains gave way to well-trodden roads lined with stone markers, and the distant silhouette of Minas Tirith began to emerge, rising like a crown against the pale blue sky. The closer they drew, the more the city revealed itself—its gleaming white walls, tiered levels, and the great tower that stood as a beacon of hope and resilience.
By the time they reached the gates of Minas Tirith on the morning of July 21st, the city was already alive with activity. Banners of white and silver fluttered in the breeze, and the streets bustled with people preparing for the grand event. The air was filled with a palpable sense of joy and anticipation, a stark contrast to the somber days of war that had once gripped this land.
As they approached the gates, the guards recognized Legolas immediately, their eyes widening at the sight of the prince of Mirkwood and his companion. They bowed respectfully, stepping aside to allow them entry.
The two riders dismounted, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as they took in the vibrant energy of the city. Legolas turned to Xena, a faint smile playing on his lips. "We made it."
Xena stretched her arms, grinning despite the weariness that lingered in her muscles. "Just in time, too. I'd hate to miss the look on Aragorn's face when he sees us."
Together, they led their horses through the bustling streets, the excitement of the day carrying them forward. For the first time in what felt like ages, their journey wasn't about survival or duty—it was about celebrating life, love, and the triumph of hope. Ahead, the grand halls of Minas Tirith awaited, and with them, the reunion of friends and the promise of a joyous day.
((Upcoming Chapter One-Hundred-Twenty-Four))
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