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 22: Of Bows and Chakrams

Old Ford, July 26th 3018 T.A.

After a long journey through darkness, peace and quiet were appreciated. But for how long? The next morning was spent managing the last details. Breakfast was served, and now boredom was slowly creeping in. Xena sat at the river's edge, near the rocks and remnants of the bridge. She threw her chakram against the rocks, her movements precise and fluid.

She would throw it as one piece, aiming at the northern part of the rocks. The chakram would clash and ricochet westward, bouncing off a few more rocks before returning to her hand. She caught it effortlessly each time. Then, she would separate it into two halves and repeat the process with both, showcasing her dexterity and skill.

It was clear she was bored, and if it were her choice, they would have moved on. They had rested enough; it made sense to her practical mind that they should continue their journey. However, the elves seemed to enjoy the peace too much, though even they seemed somewhat restless.

Nearby, Thalion and Mírdan were engaged in a friendly duel, putting their swords into practice. The sound of their clashing blades disrupted the peace along the Anduin River, mingling with the rhythmic clash of Xena's chakram against the rocks.

Elros was close by, spreading out his maps to ensure they followed the right path. He chose a longer but safer route. Legolas, standing next to him, seemed to agree. If traveling alone, Legolas would have chosen the fastest path, but with the company and the desire to reach Rivendell safely, he deferred to Elros's judgment.

Elros glanced up from the map and caught Legolas's eye. "You seem restless," he observed.

Legolas nodded slightly. "The longer path is wise for the safety of our companions, but the warrior in me longs for action."

Elros smiled knowingly. "Patience, my friend. We will have our share of challenges soon enough."

Legolas sighed, his gaze drifting to Xena as she expertly wielded her chakram. "She is restless as well. Humans do not find solace in peace as we do."

Elros followed his gaze. "She is skilled."

Legolas nodded, "She never ceased to remind me of that throughout our entire journey."

Legolas watched with Elros as Xena repeatedly threw her chakram, hitting the same mark with precision each time. The scene awakened Legolas' competitive spirit and curiosity. He tapped Elros's shoulder and then walked over to where Xena was sitting. He had seen her use the round weapon before but had never found the right moment to inquire about it. Now, in this peaceful setting, his curiosity peaked, and he decided to find out more.

As he approached, Xena caught her chakram mid-throw and looked at him curiously. "Legolas," she acknowledged, her tone neutral.

"Xena," Legolas replied, his tone inquisitive. "That weapon of yours intrigues me. I've seen you use it with great skill, but I've never asked about it. What is it called, and how did you come to possess it?"

Xena glanced at the chakram in her hand, then back at Legolas. "This is called a chakram," she began. "It's a unique weapon from my world, originally given to me by Ares, the god of war. The first one I had was called the Dark Chakram, which I took from an altar in the temple of the god Kal. Kal claimed that Ares stole it many years ago and gave it to me."

Legolas listened intently, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and bewilderment. "A god of war? And this weapon, it sounds powerful." He paused, confusion noticeable on his usually unreadable face. Truth be told, Legolas knew little about Harad, so when Xena started speaking about Ares, Kal, and her world, he thought she meant Harad, though it didn't make much sense.

"It was," Xena confirmed. "The Dark Chakram was one of a kind and incredibly powerful. But the one I use now is different. It's two chakrams united, one light and one dark, resembling a yin-yang. In my world, this transformation diffused the power to kill gods and turned them into a new chakram with splittable light and dark halves."

She demonstrated, separating the chakram into two distinct halves before reuniting them again. "Here, in Middle-earth, it doesn't have the same divine power, but it's still a formidable weapon."

Legolas nodded, impressed by the chakram, but his confusion remained. "Is your realm not connected with Middle-earth?"

The question caused Xena to realize she had revealed more than she intended. She hesitated but then decided that sharing this part of her story with Legolas would not put her in any danger. "I don't know if it's connected, but they are two different worlds."

Their eyes met, and Legolas seemed to piece things together, his curiosity deepening. "Then you do not hail from Harad?" he questioned.

"No, I don't," Xena admitted, placing the chakram next to her. "Imagine I landed in Middle-earth decades back. The first place I encountered was the Harad desert. Azrath was the first town I stumbled upon, and they offered me shelter. Telling folks I'm from another world would've sounded crazy, so saying I was from Azrath just made more sense."

Legolas sat next to her, his competitive spirit on hold as he was intrigued by her story. "But what caused you to arrive in our world?"

Xena was impressed. Legolas accepted her story without immediate skepticism. He had more questions about how she ended up in Middle-earth than doubts about her sanity. She took her time and explained as much as she knew. "In my world, I was dead. Perhaps a close friend of mine was the reason I was brought here, but I don't have much detail."

Legolas, serious and interested, replied, "I do not have the knowledge to give you answers, but when we arrive in Rivendell, perhaps Lord Elrond can help. He has great wisdom and may know of such crossings between worlds."

Xena nodded, appreciating his earnestness. "I look forward to speaking with him."

Legolas lingered a little longer, his gaze fixed on the round weapon placed beside Xena. He reached out to pick it up but hesitated, glancing at her for permission. Xena gave a small nod, allowing him to handle it. He picked it up, surprised by its weight. As he split the chakram into its two halves, he felt the power in his hands. Xena noticed his growing curiosity, sensing his desire to test it.

"Give it a try," she prompted confidently, knowing that only a few could truly wield it. "Let's see if you can handle it."

Legolas's competitive spirit sparked, and he stood up, holding the chakram. He took a step forward, eyeing the rocks ahead as if measuring the distance. Before Xena could stand next to him, he threw the chakram. The throw wasn't as direct or perfect as Xena's, but it was strong. The chakram hit the first target Xena had aimed at earlier and then the second.

The chakram followed a similar path, bouncing off the rocks with a metallic clang until it returned. Xena readied herself to catch it, but Legolas managed to intercept it with surprising agility. Although his movements lacked the practiced precision of a master, he showed a natural aptitude for handling the weapon. He balanced it in his hands, pride evident in his expression, and returned it to Xena.

"It's a great weapon," he admitted, his tone respectful.

Xena, taken aback by his ability to wield it with ease, nodded as she took it back. Legolas turned to leave but couldn't resist adding with a hint of pride, "I am skillful as well, human."

Legolas returned to the camp, his mind buzzing with the revelations Xena had shared. For someone who initially believed her to be from Harad, her story was astonishing. The dangers they had faced together had prevented him from asking many questions, and her occasional irritations had kept his curiosity at bay. But now, a woman from another world, possessing the power to kill gods in her realm, piqued his interest like never before.

Legolas, usually reserved and seldom interested in the lives of others, found himself intrigued by Xena. Her candidness had given him much to ponder—not only was she from another world, but she had once wielded the power to kill gods. The complexity of her background was overwhelming, and he realized there was much to learn from her. If time and circumstances permitted, he intended to ask her more about her world and experiences. However, he knew they needed to establish a basic rule: no conflicts or readiness to fight each other.

Dinner was served that evening in the camp, the warm glow of the campfire casting flickering shadows as the companions gathered to eat. The aroma of the plant-based soup mingled with the crisp evening air. Xena sat quietly, eating her soup and listening to the conversation around her.

Elros recounted a tale from his youth, his voice animated as he described a daring rescue mission deep within Mirkwood. Thalion and Mírdan chuckled at the more humorous parts, their spirits lifted by the camaraderie. Xena, however, seemed distant, her mind clearly elsewhere.

When a lull in the conversation occurred, Xena spoke up, her tone direct. "It's been days of rest. I think it's time we ride on. What exactly are we waiting for?"

The group fell silent, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Legolas, seated opposite Xena, felt a surge of frustration. He leaned forward, his voice firm. "We will stay for a day or two more."

Xena raised an eyebrow, not used to Legolas's assertiveness. "Why? We've rested enough. The sooner we reach Rivendell, the better."

Legolas took a deep breath, struggling to keep his temper in check. "It's not just about physical rest, Xena. The darkness we faced took a toll on all of us. We need time to recover mentally as well. That includes the horses."

Xena set her bowl down, her gaze steady on Legolas. "I understand that, but we can't afford to delay too long. Every day we stay here is a day lost."

Elros, sensing the tension, intervened gently. "Xena, Legolas has a point. The journey ahead will be arduous, and we need everyone at their best, both in body and mind."

Thalion nodded in agreement. "Pushing ourselves too hard could lead to mistakes, and in the wilds, mistakes can be deadly."

Mírdan added, "A little more time here could make all the difference. We can ensure our supplies are in order, our gear is properly maintained, and our horses are well-rested."

Xena sighed, the logic in their arguments undeniable, but her impatience was still evident. "I see your points, but the longer we stay, the more vulnerable we become."

Legolas's expression softened slightly, appreciating her concern. "We won't stay longer than necessary. Just enough to ensure we are all ready for the journey ahead. Trust me on this, Xena. We all want to reach Rivendell as soon as possible, but we need to be smart about it."

Xena nodded reluctantly, recognizing the wisdom in his words. "Alright, but let's not make it more than a day or two. We need to keep moving."

Legolas nodded, grateful for her concession. "Indeed. We shall depart as soon as we are prepared."

The tension eased, and the group returned to their meal. Elros resumed his story, lightening the mood once more. Xena listened, her mind more at ease knowing they would not linger longer than necessary.

As the evening wore on, the companions shared more tales and laughter, eventually settling down on their makeshift beds under the open sky. The warmth of camaraderie gave way to the quiet of the night, with each member drifting off to sleep.

Legolas, as was his custom, quietly left the group to find rest away from the others. His nights were haunted by nightmares he preferred to endure in solitude. But tonight, Xena noticed his departure once more.

Something about his nightly routine stuck with her. The elf always chose to sleep away from the rest, and while she understood the need for isolation at times—she often sought it herself—there was something different about Legolas's behavior. In the dark forest, she had assumed he was keeping watch, but here, in the relative safety of the old fold, it made little sense for him to walk away.

Curiosity gnawed at her. Why did he seek isolation to sleep? What was he hiding?

Dawn found Xena with her questions from the previous night still unanswered. She woke up to find the rest of the camp still asleep and decided to look for Legolas. It wasn't difficult to spot the elf; he was already awake, practicing with his bow and arrows. He had found a perfect spot and was meticulously aiming, drawing, and releasing arrow after arrow with swift precision.

Xena stood nearby, watching him. She couldn't help but admire his skill. His posture was solid, and his movements were fluid, showcasing his expertise. Though her pride wouldn't allow her to admit it openly, she knew Legolas was one of the best archers she had ever seen. Not that he needed to hear it; his confidence bordered on arrogance, and he was undoubtedly aware of his mastery.

When the last arrow was used, Legolas stopped and acknowledged Xena's presence. She approached as he was gathering his arrows.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Legolas deftly avoided the topic, shifting the conversation. ""I know you're eager to move on." he said, straightening up.

Xena's brows furrowed slightly. "I just don't see the point in staying here any longer. We've rested enough. The journey to Rivendell won't get any shorter."

Legolas sighed, not wanting to revisit the same argument. "The rest is necessary, Xena. For everyone. We've faced darkness and battles that have taken their toll, not just physically but mentally as well. Even the horses need time to recuperate."

Xena placed her hands on her hip, her competitive nature flaring up. "I understand that, but we can't afford to delay too long."

Legolas paused, gathering his thoughts. "It's not just about physical rest. The mind needs time to recover too. Rushing into the next leg of our journey without being fully prepared could be more dangerous."

Their philosophical clash was palpable. Xena valued action and pragmatism, while Legolas understood the importance of caution and recovery. Their mutual respect, however, kept the discussion civil, albeit tense.

"Look," Xena began, trying a different approach, "I know you care about everyone's well-being. So do I. But we have to find a balance. If we stay too long, we're sitting ducks."

Legolas nodded, appreciating her perspective even if he didn't fully agree. "And if we leave too soon, we might not be ready for what lies ahead. It's a delicate balance, and it's my responsibility to ensure everyone is at their best."

Xena's eyes narrowed slightly, but there was a glint of understanding. "I get it. But don't underestimate our resilience. We're stronger than you think."

"I don't underestimate any of the company," Legolas admitted, "though you still have a lot to learn."

He attempted to change the subject, aware of how easily Xena could get fired up. He intended to subtly outline that she still had things to master and that she would struggle to reach the proficiency of the elves. However, his words backfired, sparking another argument.

Their heated exchange quickly escalated into a debate about archery. Legolas, trying to prove his point, offered Xena his bow, confident that it would illustrate the challenge he was referring to. "Try using my bow," he suggested a hint of a challenge in his voice.

Xena accepted, and her competitive spirit ignited. She recalled aiding Ulysses in stringing his bow, so she didn't expect using Legolas's bow to be much different. But she knew that Legolas was unaware of her past, so she would let her actions speak for her.

She took the bow from him, her movements confident. It was clear she knew what she was doing. She nocked an arrow and began to draw the bowstring. That was when she realized the true challenge. The power and weight required to pull the bow were immense, far beyond what she had anticipated. She felt her hand burn, but she refused to give up.

Legolas watched, impressed by her determination. Her movements were slower than his, but she managed to use his bow effectively. She hit the target a few times, her accuracy commendable. After a few shots, she handed the bow back to him, her expression triumphant. "I told you I have many skills," she said, taking her leave and hiding her palms to conceal the toll the effort had taken on her.

Legolas took the bow, noticing that the edges were slightly wetter than usual. It was only then that he realized it was blood from her palms, a testament to the strain she had endured to prove her point. He gazed towards the path she had taken, a mix of worry and puzzlement in his eyes.

As Xena walked away, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride mixed with pain. Her hands throbbed, but she had proven her point. She knew Legolas would be concerned, but she also knew that respect was often earned through such trials.

Legolas, still holding his bow, felt a newfound respect for Xena. Despite their differences and the constant clashes, her strength and determination were undeniable. He resolved to keep a closer eye on her, not out of doubt, but out of admiration for her tenacity.

The camp slowly came to life, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the forest. The companions prepared for another day. Xena sat on her bedding, still reflecting on her encounter with Legolas. It was clear that both human and elf were too prideful to give up on their new rivalry, each wanting to prove something.

Just then, Legolas appeared. He walked over to his belongings and rummaged through them, finding a small jar, a clean cloth, a bowl of water, and a few bandages. With these in hand, he approached Xena and knelt beside her, placing the items next to her bedding.

Xena tilted her head, her long hair falling like a veil to one side as she looked at him in confusion. Legolas said nothing but gently took her left hand and turned it palm up. As he suspected, using the bow had caused a raw, burning cut across her palm. He looked at her, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. Dipping the cloth in the clean water, he began to clean her wound.

Xena blinked, still confused. Most of their encounters had been confrontational, each ready to hurt the other. This unexpected gentleness from Legolas took her by surprise. She pulled her hand away, her tone harsher than intended. "I can take care of my own wounds."

Legolas ignored her tone and gently reclaimed her hand. His touch was light and careful as he cleaned the wound and applied a paste of Athelas. He explained as he worked, "Athelas was first brought to Middle-earth by Númenóreans, but by the end of the Third Age, the knowledge of its healing properties was lost among all but the Rangers of the North and the Elves. To most men and hobbits, it's just a useless weed."

Xena watched him, her curiosity piqued despite herself. "So, you're saying it's a kind of elvish remedy?"

"Indeed," Legolas nodded, his fingers moving deftly as he wrapped a bandage around her palm. "I am not a healer, but as a warrior, I know the basics. Battles and patrols often leave us with injuries that need immediate attention."

He continued to speak as he treated her other palm, sharing more than he usually would. "I learned to use Athelas as a paste from Aragorn and the Rangers of the North. It's effective for wounds like this."

Xena listened intently, her initial resistance fading as she absorbed the information. She had never heard of Athelas before, and Legolas's explanation was thorough and intriguing.

When he finished, he stood up and looked down at her. "My bow may be used by others," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "but only one can truly master its use. And that is the best archer in Middle-earth, which happens to be me."

Xena rolled her eyes, unwilling to admit his point openly. "You always have a clever answer, don't you?"

Legolas's smile widened slightly. "Perhaps. But the truth remains. Just as you are the master of your chakram, I am the master of my bow."

Despite herself, Xena couldn't help but acknowledge his skill. She knew he was right; his prowess with the bow was unparalleled, just as her mastery of the chakram was unique. "Fine," she said, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "You're not bad with that bow."

Legolas chuckled softly. "And you are formidable with your chakram. Perhaps one day, we will see who is the better warrior."

Xena smirked. "Perhaps. But for now, thank you for the help."

Legolas nodded, his expression turning serious. "Take care of your hands. We have a long journey ahead, and we need everyone at their best."

Xena watched him as he walked away, feeling a strange mix of respect and camaraderie. Their rivalry might never fade, but moments like this built a deeper understanding and mutual respect between them.

As the camp continued to wake, the morning sun rising higher, the companions prepared for another day. Despite the competitive tension, there was a sense of unity and purpose, their bonds strengthened by these shared experiences and the mutual respect they held for one another.

((Upcoming Chapter Twenty - Three))

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