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 21: A day in the Camp
Old Ford, July 25th 3018 T.A.
A night breeze rustled through the tall grass at the edge of the camp, near the riverside, offering a small measure of relief to the painful memories the nightmare had stirred. It was another night like countless others, spent wrestling with his guilt, with nightmares serving as relentless reminders that he could neither forget nor forgive.
He sat against a large rock, the soft wind tugging gently at him, brushing his silver hair, which hung freely past his shoulders. After last night's bath, he had not yet braided it, and the playful breeze blew a strand of hair in front of his piercing blue eyes.
Gazing beyond the river, he looked towards the forest they had escaped just a day ago. The memories of the previous days replayed in his mind, attempting to distract him from the haunting images of his nightmare.
Perhaps his decision had been unwise; perhaps he should let the guilt consume him, take what was left of him. His ageless face, inscrutable to the outside world, hid the turmoil within. He knew he had long since made peace with his guilt, living alongside it. But this journey through Mirkwood had reopened wounds he had convinced himself were healed.
At last, he sighed and shook his head at his foolishness. He rose silently to his feet, his soft feet making no sound against the ground. He turned towards the camp, knowing his companions were not far away. It would take only a few moments to reach them.
Dawn was almost upon them, and as was his custom, he moved through the camp to ensure everyone's safety. Sleep had long abandoned him, making these nocturnal rounds his solace. Tonight was no exception.
His bare feet met the cold grass with each step, the dew dampening his skin as he gazed out at the open field of green. Two of the horses were already awake, munching contentedly on the grass they had missed for too long. The other two lay by the riverbank, still resting. He cherished these peaceful moments, rare as they were.
The camp was meticulously set up, larger than usual, indicating their plan to stay for a few days. It was a calculated risk, but with the knowledge that the journey ahead could turn perilous, with long hours or even days of riding, he owed everyone a few long moments of peace and rest.
As he approached the heart of the camp, his eyes met with Elros, who was already awake. Elros acknowledged him with a nod before returning to his task, examining and repairing his tunic. Traveling for centuries and undertaking numerous quests had molded Elros into a man adept at surviving in the wild and adapting to the diverse company that traveled with them.
Elros was not merely a random guard of Thranduil's forces; he was one of the few men Thranduil trusted implicitly, often dispatched on missions that others would refuse. Legolas knew that Elros was also a trusted friend of his father, and his presence on this journey to Rivendell was not solely for protection.
There was a time when Legolas had not been fond of Elros. He was not the traditional woodland elf. Old in age, closer to Thranduil's years, with a background steeped in personal and often perilous missions, Elros was not someone one would typically befriend easily.
Despite this, Elros was privy to truths that even Legolas did not know, including some of Legolas's own missteps. Yet, Elros never spoke of these things to the prince—offering neither comfort nor condemnation, simply an unspoken understanding. They were not friends as Elros was with Thranduil. They were allies on this quest, united by the mission to inform Elrond of Gollum's escape. That was the extent of their bond.
Legolas approached the area where their belongings were neatly stowed and reached for his high-quality leather boots. The boots, a deep, rich green, symbolized his profound connection with nature and the forest realm of Mirkwood. Intricate, embossed patterns adorned the sides, showcasing the exquisite craftsmanship of the Woodland Elves.
He leaned against the nearest remaining wall of the once-magnificent stone bridge and lifted his right leg to don the boot. The tall boots, reaching up to mid-calf, offered ample protection and support for his legs. The snug fit was tailored perfectly to his form, ensuring ease of movement and agility.
With practiced ease, he slipped on the second boot, his keen eyes scanning the camp as he did so. His gaze fell upon Thalion and Mírdan, who were still asleep. Trusted companions of Elros, they always accompanied him on missions assigned by the Elvenking. Younger than Elros and more aligned with the customs of the Woodland Realm, they enjoyed good company, wine, and celebration. Yet, they were reliable and steadfast.
Unlike Elros, Thalion and Mírdan were not privy to many of the secrets hidden within the halls of the Elvenking. Nor did they particularly care for such knowledge. This journey marked Legolas's first time traveling with them, a decision driven by the importance of the message they were delivering to Lord Elrond, a directive from his father.
As he adjusted his boots, Legolas felt a momentary connection to the familiar comforts of home, despite the weight of their mission. The air was crisp, carrying the fresh scent of dawn, mingled with the earthy aroma of the forest. The quietude of the morning was punctuated only by the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle flow of the river nearby.
Legolas stood, feeling the snug fit of his boots and the strength they provided. He glanced once more at Thalion and Mírdan, a sense of camaraderie warming his heart. Despite their differences, they were united by their loyalty to the Elvenking and their shared purpose.
He had donned his boots and stepped forward, his eyes idly scanning the camp when they settled on the female wanderer among their company. Something about her made him pause. At first, he couldn't quite discern what it was—her steady breathing or perhaps her unfamiliar scent. His eyes lingered a little longer than intended.
Her head rested on a makeshift pillow, a rolled-up towel, and her long, dark hair lay slightly disheveled, cascading around her face and blending with the natural surroundings. She lay on her side, her right arm extended out in front of her and her left arm draped across her body. Her expression was peaceful and relaxed, a stark contrast to her usual intense and vigilant demeanor. This rare moment of rest highlighted her human side, offering a glimpse of vulnerability.
It was the first time Legolas had seen her in such peaceful surroundings, truly at ease. They had met in the darker parts of the forest, moving from one conflict to the next. The gentle rise and fall of her breathing, combined with the soft rustling of the foliage, created a unique memory for Legolas, one he had not anticipated.
He was aware that once she awoke, the dynamic would shift back to its usual state of tension. Legolas still found her presence annoying, her human traits often grating on him. But something had changed; they had developed a mutual respect. He recognized her as a capable warrior, with a code of honor similar to his own.
Though they often clashed, they no longer viewed each other as enemies but as rivals. This rare moment of vulnerability would soon be gone, and Legolas was uncertain which side of her he would miss more: her peaceful demeanor or the fiery spirit that kept him on edge, challenging his pride and forcing him to act more arrogantly than usual.
Legolas stepped closer, observing her in detail. Her current attire consisted of a pair of leggings made from a simple, durable fabric, perhaps cotton or a cotton blend, allowing for flexibility and ease of movement. The leggings contoured her legs, revealing what her previous gown had concealed.
Her black shirt, made from a coarse, inexpensive fabric, lacked the refined stitching and quality of higher-end clothing, giving it a somewhat rough texture. The basic design featured a simple round neckline and short sleeves, fitting loosely to allow unrestricted movement.
Compared to her previous attire, this outfit was old and cheap, a stark contrast to her previous, more formal wear. Yet, both seemed out of place on her, one overwhelming her and the other lending her a worn look.
Leaning over her, Legolas gently grabbed the blanket resting beside her and covered her up, momentarily forgetting her down-to-earth attire. He glanced at her a little longer, his fingers lingering as they touched her cheek. He withdrew his hand and straightened, turning away and walking off.
Xena slowly opened her eyes, lying still under the blanket, his touch still vivid against her face. She watched his back as he walked away towards his belongings. From her position, she took the time to observe the annoying elf.
His demeanor was calm, his long hair waving gently in the wind. There was something different about him. She had never denied his graceful features and fluid movements. The truth was, the elf could easily draw attention. After yesterday, when she had seen him almost naked, she couldn't deny his physical appeal.
'Wait, what?' she thought, feeling a bit disoriented. The long days spent in darkness and inactivity must have been affecting her thoughts, making her sound more perverted than she should. But beyond the silliness, Legolas was indeed a sight for sore eyes. She had begun to understand that all elves possessed a certain beauty and grace, but Legolas had managed to blend his flaws into the mix, resulting in something breathtaking.
However, Xena still did not like him. His pride and the way he carried himself made her want to punch him most of the time. Legolas certainly stirred something within her, awakening her more challenging nature. She did not trust him, but she respected him.
He had proven himself over the past thirty-five days, showing her that he was not the elf she had been told he was. True, she could not easily read him. He was arrogant and filled with pride, and he did not hide it. He could easily provoke anyone who was prideful and skillful.
Despite his typically soft-spoken nature, he was quick to anger, a trait uncharacteristic of most elves. Xena noticed how the rest of his company reacted to him. Legolas had a firmer temperament and a more antagonistic behavior.
He was competitive, especially in combat or arguments. Battles, to him, were more like a game. In this, they were alike; action was as much a part of his life as it was hers. Both preferred it that way.
Generally, he was an elf of few words, with a low-key personality. But when he did speak, it often ended in a debate on good days and a fight on bad ones. They had many conflicts, and she was sure more would come, as both had fiery tempers. But now, watching him calm and blend with the surroundings, showing a rare moment of softness, she felt confused.
She glanced at him one last time before closing her eyes to take a few more moments of sleep. Legolas continued to deal with his belongings, sorting things out. Nearby, Elros was threading a needle, his focus on the task at hand, but his curiosity got the better of him. Though he had seen it all, from Legolas's reaction to Xena, he chose not to react, silently observing the scene unfold.
In those quiet moments, Xena found herself pondering the complexities of their relationship. Despite the friction, there was an underlying respect and a shared understanding forged through their journey. She allowed herself a small smile before drifting back to sleep, comforted by the unexpected layers of their companionship.
Hours passed, and the camp began to stir. The first signs of waking companions added a subtle hum of life to the serene morning. Legolas was seated on a rocky outcrop some distance away but still within sight of the camp. He was meticulously working on his arrows, securing the fletching, cleaning, and sharpening the points. They needed to be ready for the days ahead until they reached Rivendell.
Elros was still diligently fixing his tunic. Every detail mattered to him, and the need to look perfect was evident. The tunic was a gift from his beloved sister, and he tried to keep it safe and unruined. This was perhaps the only personal detail Legolas knew about Elros. Earlier, before attending to his arrows, Legolas had searched through his belongings to find a stronger thread, a special thread that Tauriel had given him.
Legolas approached Elros, holding out the thread. "Here," he said, his voice soft but firm. "This should be stronger. It's a special thread, given to me by Tauriel. It should help you mend your tunic."
Elros looked up, surprised by the gesture. He accepted the thread with a nod of gratitude. "Thank you, Legolas. This means a lot to me. This tunic is very dear to me. It was a gift from my sister."
Legolas nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I know what it means to hold on to something precious. Use the thread well."
Elros carefully threaded his needle, taking a moment to appreciate the finer quality of the thread. "It's perfect," he said, beginning to sew with renewed confidence. "Tauriel's gift is indeed special."
As Elros worked on his tunic, he occasionally added wood to the campfire and observed the others as they woke. Thalion was busy sharpening his blade, his movements precise and practiced.
Xena was awake, sitting on her makeshift bed and taking her time to fully wake up. She watched the camp come to life with a sense of quiet contemplation. Her thoughts drifted back to Gabrielle and the times they had shared. Usually, it would be the two friends, sometimes having someone else to bring more life to their camp.
The camp was slowly leaving a familiar feeling. For once, she felt an odd sense of belonging. Until now, wherever she stayed and traveled felt like a foreign world. Although she adapted easily and was living in Middle-earth, today was one of the rare days she felt at ease, like she was waking up close to something familiar.
She missed Gabrielle, that was for sure. Today, in the calmness, she felt the absence more than on other days, when she had an annoying elf to deal with. Her thoughts were soon interrupted, bringing her back to reality.
Thalion glanced over at Xena, noting her pensive expression. "You've seen a lot of battle, haven't you?" he asked, his voice gentle but curious.
Xena nodded, her eyes meeting his. "More than I care to remember."
Thalion smiled faintly, appreciating her honesty. "We all have. It's not easy to avoid them in such treacherous times."
Xena returned the smile, a brief but genuine connection forming between them. "Yes, it does." She paused, then added, "But it's these moments of peace that remind us why we keep fighting."
Thalion nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed. And it's good to have companions who understand the weight we carry."
Legolas returned to his spot, continuing his work on the arrows. The sun was rising higher, casting a warm glow over the camp. The river's soft murmur and the gentle rustling of leaves created a peaceful ambiance.
Elros finished mending his tunic, admiring his handiwork. The special thread had worked wonders, and the tunic looked almost as good as new. He stood and stretched, feeling a sense of accomplishment. He walked over to where Legolas was sitting and handed back the thread.
"Thank you, Legolas. Tauriel's thread was just what I needed. My tunic is whole again," Elros said, a hint of gratitude in his voice.
Legolas looked up, his eyes reflecting a rare softness. "It was nothing. I'm glad it could help. Your sister would be pleased to see it well cared for."
Elros nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "She would. She always said the little things matter the most."
Legolas returned the smile, a brief moment of camaraderie passing between them. "Indeed. Sometimes, it's the small gestures that make the biggest difference."
Elros nodded in agreement and he returned to the campfire and Legolas continued with his arrows, the peaceful morning continued, filled with the unspoken bonds and shared understandings that forged their companionship.
As the camp stirred to life, Mírdan awoke, feeling a parched throat. He quickly sprang to his feet, searching for his flask to wash and fill it with water. Elros gestured for him to take the rest of their flasks as well, ensuring everyone would have fresh water to drink. Mírdan didn't expect his day to begin with washing flasks and fetching water, but it was a peaceful change from their usual encounters.
Xena waved at Mírdan to wait for her. As she got up, she walked over to where their belongings were stored. She grabbed a wooden bowl and a small, practical knife lying nearby, not noticing whose it was. The knife, perfect for her needs, felt balanced and ready in her hand.
Together, they walked to the river, their conversation revolving around food. Xena asked Mírdan what they would eat, and the usual talk of plant-based meals came up. She knew she wanted something more substantial, like fish, to cook over the fire. Mírdan was perplexed. He explained to her that elves do not eat meat or fish out of respect for living beings.
"Respect for living things?" Xena raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet amused. "But don't you see? By eating plants, you're also consuming living things. It's just that they don't bleed or make noise when you harvest them."
Mírdan pondered this. "True, plants are living, but they don't possess the same sentience as animals. It is a matter of minimizing harm."
Xena smirked. "I respect that, but my body needs more than what your green diet can offer. I need strength, especially on this journey. And I'm pretty sure these fish won't mind as much."
As they reached the riverside, Mírdan began washing the flasks. Meanwhile, Xena found a spot where fish were plentiful. The elves might adhere to their beliefs, but she craved something other than green, tasteless fare. She crouched by the water, her eyes narrowing as she spotted a fish. With swift precision, she plunged her hand into the water, grasping the slippery creature firmly.
Mírdan watched, conflicted. While he felt remorse for the fish, he couldn't help but be curious about the human who caught them with such ease. Xena's movements were fluid and efficient. She used the knife she had taken from the camp to clean the fish. With practiced skill, she sliced the fish open, removed the entrails, and washed the fillets in the river.
They returned to the camp with Xena carrying the fish skewered on sticks. Their conversation about different food customs continued, bridging the gap between their cultures with a mix of curiosity and respect.
"Does it ever bother you?" Mírdan asked as they approached the camp. "Killing to eat, I mean."
Xena glanced at him. "It used to. But I've learned that survival sometimes demands tough choices. Besides, I believe in using every part of what I hunt. Wastefulness is the true disrespect."
Mírdan nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps there is wisdom in that."
As they reentered the camp, the morning sun cast a warm glow over the bustling activity. Xena set up the fish near the fire, ready to cook them. The scent of fresh fish soon filled the air, blending with the earthy aroma of the forest.
Elros was already gathering a few plants, aiming for a better meal than usual. He had strengthened the campfire, and Thalion was still working on his gear, ensuring everything was ready for the days to come. Mírdan had returned with flasks of water and was placing them with the rest of their belongings.
Legolas, having finished with his arrows, was placing them inside his quiver, ensuring everything was perfectly aligned. His eyes wandered, catching sight of Xena returning with her attire slightly wet and holding fish in one hand and his dagger in the other.
He observed as she placed the fish next to the campfire and searched for sticks to skewer the fish for cooking. He knew humans and dwarves had different ways of eating, a fact he had become familiar with during his travels with Aragorn and the Rangers. He recalled the first time a ranger from the North had caught a fish and thought it wise to hand it to Legolas for cleaning, a task he had gladly passed on to Aragorn.
Watching Xena now brought back those memories, and his reaction was not much different. However, this time, the fish were already cleaned and ready. Legolas felt conflicted. If asked, he would prefer not to include fish in their meal. But since it seemed their human companion wanted it, he decided not to object.
However, seeing Xena with his dagger sparked a familiar tension. He approached her, his tone calm but with an edge. "Xena, that dagger belongs to me."
Xena looked up, unfazed. "I needed something to clean the fish with. It was the most suitable tool at hand."
Legolas frowned. "You could have asked."
"Asked? Like you asked last night when joining me in the river?" she retorted, her voice sharp. "Naked."
Her comment drew the attention of the rest of the company, who gazed at each other in confusion. Legolas was capable of many things, but invading their female companion's privacy was not something they would expect from him.
Legolas's eyes narrowed. "Respecting one's belongings is different from bathing choices. You humans often disregard the importance of such nonsense."
Xena snorted, skewering the fish on a stick. "Nonsense? Is that what you call it? Your dagger was just sitting there, unused. And besides, I returned it."
Legolas crossed his arms, his posture rigid. "It is a matter of principle. You should not take what is not yours without permission."
Xena's eyes flashed. "Principle? You speak of principles when you've done nothing but look down on me since we met. How about the principle of respecting the privacy of others?"
Legolas's face hardened. "I have treated you with the respect you have earned. But respect is a two-way street, Xena. You do not simply take and assume it is acceptable."
Their voices grew louder, drawing the attention of the others. Elros paused in his preparations, Thalion looked up from his gear, and Mírdan watched from a distance, sensing another inevitable clash.
"You think respect is earned by waiting on you elves hand and foot? By not touching your precious belongings?" Xena's voice was filled with frustration. "Maybe you should try understanding that not everyone sees the world through your narrow lens."
Legolas took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "It is not about being waited on, Xena. It is about mutual respect. If our roles were reversed, would you not feel slighted if I took your belongings without asking?"
Xena paused, considering his words. "You would be as good as dead! But I would never touch someone's main gear. This was different."
Legolas sighed. "Different how?"
"It was a simple knife that I returned," Xena's expression softened slightly. "But if it means that much to you, fine. I'll ask next time. But you need to understand that sometimes practicality outweighs formality."
Legolas nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Agreed."
Their argument, though heated, had brought them to a tentative understanding. As they continued preparing the meal, the tension slowly dissipated, replaced by a newfound respect. The scent of cooking fish mingled with the earthy aroma of the forest, and the camp gradually returned to its bustling activity. Elros, watching from the side, smiled to himself. Perhaps there was hope for unity after all.
As they worked side by side, the sun climbed higher, casting a warm glow over the camp. Elros, Thalion, and Mírdan continued their tasks, while Xena and Legolas found a rhythm in their shared duties. The campfire crackled, the fish sizzled, and the aroma of the cooking meal filled the air.
Mírdan was more curious about what Xena meant than interested in the argument. He leaned over to Thalion and whispered, "What did she mean by not respecting her privacy?"
Thalion shook his head, uncertain. "I'm not sure, but something must have happened last night that we weren't aware of."
Their ongoing whispers and gossip caused Legolas to glance at Xena, clearly annoyed and disapproving. He disliked giving any reason for such distractions. The human might not realize it, but one of the most common flaws among elves, especially when idle, was gossiping. His companions were no exception, and when prompted, they indulged eagerly.
Mírdan's persistent questions made Xena regret her earlier comment. As they prepared to sit down for the meal, she stood close to Legolas and hissed, "Are you going to do anything to handle this?"
Legolas reminded her, "It was you who started this in the first place. There isn't much I can do."
Xena retorted, "If you hadn't joined me in the river last night, we wouldn't be having this discussion now."
Their argument reignited, voices rising as they exchanged barbs.
Legolas narrowed his eyes. "Joining you? It was a coincidence, Xena. I had no intention of invading your privacy."
Xena scoffed. "A coincidence? You walked right into the river where I was bathing. You could have waited."
"Elves don't usually need to announce their presence at every turn." Legolas snapped back.
"You still could have turned back once you realized," Xena argued, her frustration evident. "Instead, you just waded right in, as if I wasn't even there."
Legolas's expression hardened. "And you could have covered yourself instead of just standing there."
Xena's eyes flashed with anger. "Cover myself? I was waist-deep in water, Legolas. What did you expect me to do, dive underwater and hope I didn't drown?"
Legolas sighed, trying to maintain his composure. "This is getting us nowhere. If I offended you, I apologize. But you must understand, it was not intentional."
Xena placed her hands on her hip, still fuming. "You didn't seem too offended yourself, considering you took your time getting out."
Legolas's voice grew softer but more intense. "You took enjoyment in watching, didn't you? Perhaps it was night, but I noted your gaze on me."
Xena's face reddened with both anger and embarrassment. "That's ridiculous! I was just—"
Legolas interrupted, his tone firm. "Just what? Observing? You can deny it all you want, but I saw the way you looked at me. If anyone's privacy was invaded, it was mine."
Xena stepped closer, their faces inches apart. "You're insufferable, you know that? Always turning things around, making it about you."
Legolas met her gaze evenly. "I could say the same about you!"
Their intense exchange drew the attention of Elros, Thalion, and Mírdan, who watched with a mixture of amusement and concern.
Finally, Elros stepped in, his voice calm but authoritative. "Enough, both of you. We have more pressing matters to attend to than this petty squabble. We're all in this together, and we need to act like it."
Xena and Legolas exchanged one last glare before stepping back, their argument reluctantly set aside. As they sat down to share the meal, the tension between them remained palpable. The scent of cooking fish mingled with the earthy aroma of the forest, creating a temporary peace within the camp. The companions, despite their differences, found a moment of unity in the shared meal.
Mírdan remained curious about what had happened last night between Xena and Legolas, but he kept his questions to himself as he ate his meal. Thalion enjoyed his food, indifferent to the earlier events, while Elros silently hoped they wouldn't end up in another argument today, savoring the rare peace. Xena focused on her fish, pointedly ignoring Legolas, who remained equally silent, eating his meal with deliberate calm.
The sun had climbed higher in the sky, signaling the end of noon. They enjoyed their meal at a leisurely pace, relishing the absence of immediate danger. A stronger breeze swept through the camp, mingling the various aromas—the woodland elves' herbal scents, the fish, and the fresh summer river smells.
Xena first detected a familiar scent she had noticed a few times in the dark forest. Last night it had been stronger: the scent of summer rain mingling with the earth, a refreshing aroma that seemed to penetrate deep into her being. It was intertwined with a hint of mint and citrus, adding a fresh, clean fragrance. To her surprise, she realized the source was none other than the annoying elf, Legolas.
She had noted from day one that the elves possessed a pleasant scent, but today it was particularly strong, heightened by the cleanliness and calm of their surroundings.
To his dismay, Legolas was not experiencing the same olfactory pleasure. The fish scent, which usually didn't bother him, was overpowering today due to Xena's activities. Fishing, cleaning the fish, and cooking them had left a lingering fishy aroma that was too strong for his keen senses.
After their meals were over, another argument erupted, drawing everyone's attention.
"Xena," Legolas began, his tone strained, "the smell of fish is overwhelming. Could you please wash up?"
Xena raised an eyebrow, her irritation flaring. "Really, Legolas? You're going to complain about the smell now? You're not exactly a bouquet of roses yourself."
Legolas's eyes narrowed. "At least I don't smell like a fish market. It's distracting."
"Well, excuse me for providing some actual sustenance," Xena shot back. "Not all of us can survive on leaves and berries."
Mírdan, unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, leaned forward, his eyes wide with interest. "What exactly happened last night?" he asked, his voice breaking the tension.
Xena and Legolas both turned to him, their argument momentarily paused. Elros sighed, sensing the conversation taking a deeper turn.
Xena placed her hands on her hips, a defiant look on her face. "Legolas here decided to take an impromptu bath while I was already in the river."
Legolas's expression remained stoic. "It was unintentional."
Xena scoffed. "Unintentional or not, it was awkward. And now you're complaining about a little fish smell?"
Legolas clenched his jaw, his frustration evident. "This isn't about last night. It's about respect. We are in close quarters, and strong odors can be...distracting."
Thalion chuckled softly, adding his own commentary. "Legolas, maybe you should appreciate the human's efforts to provide a hearty meal."
Xena smirked at Legolas, feeling a small victory. "See? Even Thalion agrees."
Legolas sighed, his resolve softening slightly. "Fine. I appreciate the meal, Xena. But please, for the sake of everyone's comfort, try to be mindful of the smell."
Xena rolled her eyes but nodded. "Alright, I'll wash up. But you need to lighten up, Legolas."
As Xena moved towards the river to clean herself, the group felt the tension ease. Elros gave a small smile, relieved that the situation hadn't escalated further. Thalion resumed his gear maintenance, while Mírdan shook his head, still amused by the ongoing dynamics.
The sun continued its climb, casting a warm glow over the camp. Despite the arguments, a sense of unity slowly began to form among them. They were learning to navigate their differences, one heated exchange at a time.
In the evening, Xena took another long bath in the river, her irritation simmering just below the surface. The nerve of Legolas, calling her smelly! In all her years, she prided herself on maintaining not just basic hygiene but an almost military level of cleanliness. Yet here she was, being chastised by an elf. She wished she could have called him smelly in return, but Legolas's scent was anything but unpleasant. In fact, his clean, refreshing aroma was almost intoxicating. The elf had many perfections that Xena found infuriatingly admirable.
Thankfully, Legolas did not make an appearance. She dried off and donned her freshly washed attire, feeling slightly better. When she returned to the camp, everyone was gathered around Elros, who was in the midst of recounting an old tale from Mirkwood.
Elros's voice was steady and calm, carrying a sense of ancient wisdom. "It was during the Second Age, long before the great wars that scarred our lands. Mirkwood, then known as Greenwood the Great, was a place of vibrant life and untouched beauty. The trees were tall and majestic, their leaves whispering ancient secrets to those who listened."
Xena settled down, her curiosity piqued as she listened to Elros continue.
"In those days, a great elven king named Oropher ruled Greenwood. He was a wise and noble leader, beloved by his people. Under his reign, the elves of Greenwood prospered, living in harmony with the land. But the peace was not to last."
Elros's eyes took on a distant look as he delved deeper into the story. "From the depths of the mountains to the east, a darkness began to stir. Sauron, the Dark Lord, sought to extend his shadow over all Middle-earth. He sent emissaries to Oropher, demanding allegiance. But Oropher was proud and defiant. He refused to bow to Sauron's will."
The campfire flickered, casting shadows that seemed to dance with the story. Thalion and Mírdan listened intently, their faces illuminated by the flames.
"Oropher gathered his people and prepared for war. They moved swiftly, their hearts burning with the desire to protect their homeland. In the Battle of Dagorlad, at the very gates of Mordor, Oropher led his warriors with unmatched valor. The battle was fierce, the ground soaked with the blood of elves and orcs alike."
Elros paused, his expression solemn. "Oropher fought bravely, but he was ultimately struck down. His body was lost in the chaos of battle, and the elves of Greenwood were left to mourn their fallen king. His son, Thranduil, took up the mantle of leadership, vowing to protect his people and honor his father's memory."
Xena glanced at Legolas, noting the way he listened to Elros with a mixture of pride and sorrow. The story of his grandfather's sacrifice clearly resonated deeply with him with the human not knowing that Legolas was his grandson.
Elros continued, "Thranduil led our people back to Greenwood, but the forest had changed. The shadow of Sauron had touched it, turning parts of it dark and perilous. Thranduil established his kingdom in the north, building halls within the earth to protect us from the growing darkness."
The fire crackled as Elros concluded his tale. "And so, Greenwood the Great became Mirkwood, the forest we know today. Despite the darkness, the spirit of Oropher lives on in Thranduil and in all of us. We remain vigilant, guarding our home against any who would seek to destroy it."
As Elros finished, a contemplative silence settled over the camp. The weight of history and the sacrifices of those who came before them were palpable. Xena felt a newfound respect for the elves and their enduring resilience. She glanced at Legolas, who met her gaze with a thoughtful expression.
Elros added softly, "Remember, our past shapes us, but it does not define us. We have the power to forge our own paths, to create a future that honors the sacrifices of our ancestors."
The group sat quietly, absorbing the lesson in Elros's words. Despite the day's tensions, there was a sense of unity in their shared purpose and the knowledge that they were all part of a larger story, one that continued to unfold with each passing day.
Late that same evening, Elros, Thalion, and Mírdan took a stroll by the river to relax and enjoy the rare peace. Xena remained in the camp, sharpening her sword and savoring the moments of solitude. The campfire burned low as nightfall approached.
Suddenly, she felt the cold touch of metal on her shoulder. Glancing up, she saw Legolas standing there, his dagger extended toward her. Xena placed her sword on her makeshift bedding and took the dagger, assuming he was offering it to her. "I have my own weapons, elf," she informed him.
"I'm not gifting it to you," Legolas replied. "The smell of fish lingers on the dagger. Clean it."
Xena stared at him in bemusement, surprised by his tone. "Nope," she said, tossing the dagger back to him. "I already cleaned it before I returned it to you. If it still smells, that's not my problem."
Legolas was taken aback. This was a rare moment where his sheltered upbringing was apparent. Although he performed many basic duties while on patrol or quests, there were certain tasks he preferred to avoid. Cleaning a fish-smelling knife was evidently one of them.
"You used it, you clean it," Legolas commanded, his voice carrying an authoritative edge.
"It's not going to happen," Xena replied lazily. "Deal with it. It's not like you've never cleaned a knife before."
An awkward silence fell between them as they locked eyes. Xena tilted her head, slowly realizing that perhaps he hadn't. "It's gross and too smelly... please clean it," Legolas admitted, his tone softening.
Xena raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. She was starting to piece together more about Legolas. "I've seen you clean orc blood from your knives and arrows without hesitation. You'll be fine."
"That's different," Legolas confessed, revealing a spoiled side rarely seen.
Xena waited expectantly. "Different how?"
Legolas sighed and walked over to his belongings, retrieving a small pouch of powder used for cleaning cooking equipment. He handed it to her. "Use this."
Xena shook her head but took the powder and dagger. "Fine, since I used it last, I'll clean it for you, spoiled elf."
She made her way to the river, Legolas following silently. Xena used the powder to clean the dagger, finding the situation somewhat absurd. Legolas leaned against a nearby rock, watching her. The moment was strangely light-hearted, a stark contrast to their usual confrontations.
Once the dagger was clean, Xena returned it and the powder to Legolas. "Are we good now?"
Legolas accepted the dagger, nodding without further complaint. "Yes, we're good," he replied, a hint of gratitude in his voice.
As they walked back to the camp, the evening air was filled with the sounds of the forest, and a sense of mutual understanding settled between them. Despite their differences, they had managed to find a moment of accord, however fleeting it might be.
As they returned to camp, Xena resumed sharpening her sword, the rhythmic sound of metal against stone filling the air. Legolas carefully returned the dagger to his pack, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he spoke.
"It was a gift," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Given to me by my father, who received it from my grandfather." He turned to face her, his eyes serious. "I left it out accidentally."
Xena paused, the realization softening her expression. She nodded, now understanding why Legolas had reacted so strongly to her using his dagger to clean fish. "It still doesn't change that you're a spoiled elf," she replied with amusement, her tone lighter than before.
"Not spoiled, well cared for," Legolas corrected, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"We call it spoiled," Xena insisted, grinning.
Legolas chuckled, shaking his head. "Elves do have a certain standard to maintain, you know."
Xena rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, yes, the high elven standards of cleanliness and grace. Heaven forbid an elf smells like fish."
Legolas smirked. "And heaven forbid a human goes a day without causing trouble."
Xena laughed, a genuine sound that filled the camp with unexpected warmth. "Trouble? Me? Never."
Legolas raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall quite a few instances of you causing trouble, Xena."
She pretended to be offended, placing a hand on her chest. "Me? I'm the picture of innocence."
"Yes, the picture of innocence who dragged me into the river last night," Legolas teased.
Xena shook her head, her laughter contagious. "You walked in on me, remember?"
Legolas shrugged. "Details, details."
Xena leaned back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe next time, I'll just throw you into the river."
Legolas grinned. "You could try, but I doubt you'd succeed."
"Is that a challenge?" Xena's tone was playful, her competitive spirit ignited.
Legolas raised his hands in mock surrender. "Perhaps not. I wouldn't want to ruin that delicate human ego of yours."
Xena shook her head, still smiling. "You know, for an elf, you have a surprisingly good sense of humor."
"And for a human, you have a surprisingly sharp wit," Legolas retorted.
As the banter continued, the tension between them melted away, replaced by a newfound camaraderie. The campfire burned lower, casting a gentle glow over their faces. The sounds of the night enveloped them, creating a serene backdrop to their playful exchange.
Finally, Xena stretched and yawned. "Alright, elf, I suppose it's time for us to get some rest. We've got a long journey ahead."
Legolas nodded, his expression softening. "Agreed. Good night, Xena."
"Good night, Legolas," she replied, her tone warm.
Xena settled down for the night, her thoughts drifting as she gazed at the stars. Legolas, seeking solitude, walked a short distance away to his usual isolated area, keeping his nightmares and thoughts away from everyone and anything. The rest of the company also retired for the night, the peaceful ambiance soothing their weary minds.
The night passed quietly, with only the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional call of nocturnal creatures breaking the silence. When morning arrived, it brought with it a soft, golden light that gradually bathed the camp in warmth.
Xena was the first to wake, stretching and taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air. She glanced around, noting that the camp was still and serene. The fire had burned down to embers, casting a faint glow that mingled with the early sunlight. She rose quietly, careful not to disturb the others.
Elros stirred next, his eyes opening to the peaceful scene around him. He sat up slowly, taking a moment to appreciate the tranquility before beginning his morning routine. He moved quietly, collecting the flasks and ensuring they were ready for the day.
Thalion and Mírdan woke soon after, exchanging groggy nods before setting about their tasks. Thalion checked his gear meticulously, ensuring everything was in order. Mírdan, ever curious and energetic, started packing up his gear, his movements quick and efficient.
Legolas emerged from his secluded spot, looking surprisingly refreshed despite his usual restless nights. He joined the group, his demeanor calm and composed. He exchanged a brief, understanding glance with Xena before addressing the group.
As they finished their tasks, the companions gathered for a simple breakfast. Xena shared some of the dried fruits and nuts she had packed, while Elros offered a few pieces of lembas bread. Thalion and Mírdan contributed with some fresh berries they had found nearby.
The meal was quiet but comforting, the group taking a few moments to enjoy the food and each other's company. The shared silence spoke of a growing bond, an understanding forged through their journey and the challenges they had faced together.
((Upcoming Chapter Twenty - Two))
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