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)

ActIII

Frenemies

Chapter 29: Going Dutch

Glanhir, August 3rd 3018 T.A.

The town of Glanhir, nestled in the location of the Field of Celebrant, had settled into a tranquil silence by midnight. The once bustling streets were now deserted, revealing the true extent of the town's size, previously hidden by the throngs of people.

In the room they had rented at the inn, Xena stirred slightly in her sleep, her senses alert even in rest. She heard the faint creak of the door closing as Legolas stepped outside. He had put on his boots and shirt, and his hair, still loose from the bath, cascaded over his shoulders, partially concealing his elven ears. Yet, his ethereal presence was unmistakable.

Legolas descended the stairs and made his way to the counter, where a few patrons remained, drinking ale and engaging in hushed conversations. Some were too drunk, slumped over their tables, lost in their own stupor. Malik, the mercenary from the City of the Corsairs, sat at the bar, nursing his ale and observing Legolas with keen interest.

Legolas approached the innkeeper and requested a jug of water. As he waited, Malik continued to stare at him, his gaze unwavering. Legolas acknowledged Malik's presence with a slight nod, and the two found themselves locked in a tense exchange.

"You're quite the mystery, elf. Traveling with Xena, of all people. Never thought I'd see the day." Malik remarked, finally voicing the thought that had plagued him since he first saw the elf approach while he was sitting with Xena earlier.

Malik knew exactly who the elf was. The brown and grey attire adorned with elvish symbols made it clear he was from Mirkwood. His blond hair and prideful demeanor left no doubt—he was the prince of the Woodland Realm. Malik, having taken on numerous quests throughout Middle Earth, had encountered elves before and recognized this one immediately. It was a surprise to see him allied with Xena, and even more so when he joined them for protection.

"We share a common goal. Her presence is as necessary as mine," Legolas replied, offering a straightforward explanation. He had no intention of divulging his deeper thoughts to Malik, whom he neither trusted nor liked.

"Necessary? Or convenient? She's a force, no doubt, but she's also unpredictable. Dangerous, even," Malik countered, not hesitating to criticize Xena. He had no loyalties and was just as willing to speak ill of the elf to Xena as he was to speak ill of Xena to the elf.

"We all carry our own dangers, Malik. It's how we wield them that defines us," Legolas responded calmly, speaking the truth without hesitation.

Malik took a long sip of his ale, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Legolas. "You speak like you know her well. But how well can you really know someone like Xena?" he questioned, finding it odd that the prince of Mirkwood would claim to understand her.

"I know enough to trust her with my life. That is more than most can say," Legolas answered succinctly. He felt no need to elaborate further; he knew who Xena was and trusted her, a trust that had developed over time and through shared experiences.

"Trust, huh? Funny word for someone like her. She's got a past, one that doesn't easily fit with your kind," Malik pressed on, trying to sow doubt in Legolas's mind. But deep down, he knew that Xena was the type to eventually earn respect and trust.

Legolas's expression remained calm, but there was an edge to his voice. "Everyone has a past, Malik. Including you. Including me. It's what we do with our present that matters."

"Fair enough. But don't think for a second she wouldn't turn on you if it suited her needs," Malik tried once more to plant seeds of doubt.

Legolas accepted a jug of water from the innkeeper, his gaze never leaving Malik's. Malik's words could not sway him; Legolas had seen much more in his long years to be affected by someone like Malik. "Xena has proven herself. She fights for a cause greater than herself. Can you say the same, Malik?"

Malik smirked, leaning back on his stool. "Oh, I fight for my own reasons, elf. And right now, those reasons are telling me to keep an eye on you."

Legolas turned to leave but paused, glancing back at Malik. "Do as you wish. But remember this: loyalty and trust are earned, not given. Xena has earned mine. Whether you accept that or not is of no consequence to me."

Malik watched as Legolas walked away, his smirk fading into a contemplative expression. The tension in the air was palpable, but the conversation had not devolved into the confrontation that had seemed inevitable. Legolas returned to the room, his mind preoccupied with the exchange. He placed the jug of water on the small table by the bed, his thoughts lingering on Malik's words and the unspoken truths they held. The flickering light of the fireplace cast long shadows, creating a sense of intimacy that belied the tension in the air.

Xena, who had been half-awake, now fully opened her eyes and watched him. She was aware of the heavy silence between them, and the unspoken questions that lingered. Legolas took a seat in the armchair next to the window, his back straight, but his gaze distant. The events of the past few days had weighed heavily on him, and the conversation with Malik had only added to the burden.

It was clear that Legolas was avoiding sleep, knowing that the nightmares would haunt him, and that he was not ready to show any of that part of himself to anyone. He sensed Xena; he knew she was awake. He focused on her breathing. It was soft and calm, but with an undercurrent of unease, like something was bothering her, something was harming her.

It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, thinking about the town they visited, the diversity of today's encounters, seeing Xena's reaction in a strange environment, and how easily she blended in. Her actions and even Malik's words almost caused him to forget that Xena was not fully healed. And if the wound was getting better, the dust and doom of the Morgul-blade still lurked within her. A little worried and pissed with himself, he turned suddenly and gazed at her lying form on the bed.

She was still turned with her back against him. Legolas stood up and walked over to their belongings, finding the small jar with the athelas paste and a powdered herb that could be used like an antibiotic. Legolas walked over to the small desk and left it there, and then returned to the chair. He sat down, gazing outside, and only then did he tell Xena to treat her wound.

He did not want to interfere with her privacy; Xena managed to place the paste on the wound and take the herb with the water. And that's exactly what she did. She sat up, removed part of the grey garment, and started taking care of the wound.

Legolas sighed, for the first time ignoring his pride and asking, "How are you dealing with the wound? Is it still having a hold on you?"

Xena gazed at him, observing his back and how he sat against the armchair, not showing any emotion or anything. It took her a moment before she assured him, "I'm doing okay, Legolas. It's not easy, but I'm managing."

He nodded slightly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "Good," he said quietly. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

The room fell silent again, the weight of their words settling between them. Xena finished tending to her wound and then lay back down, pulling the covers over her. She closed her eyes, hoping for some rest.

Legolas closed his eyes as well, but sleep was a luxury he had decided he would not have tonight. He would stay awake, keeping watch over her and the night, ensuring that nothing else would harm his companion. Despite their differences, the bond between them was growing, forged in battles and arguments, but unbreakable nonetheless.

Legolas' last thought was to stay awake, but sleep claimed him, and with it came the familiar torment of nightmares. His expression remained serene at first, masking the inner turmoil. Around dawn, Xena woke to the sound of his breathing becoming faster and more labored.

Curious and concerned, Xena rose from the bed and moved towards him. Legolas was slumped in the chair, his long hair loose, cascading like a golden veil over his face. She observed him for a moment, noting the tension in his features, the grief etched into his brow, and the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Gently, she brushed a strand of hair from his face. His expression was one of silent agony, a testament to the nightmares that haunted him. She tapped his shoulder gently, trying to rouse him from his torment.

It took a long moment for Legolas to wake, and even then, he seemed disoriented, as if emerging from a deep and dark memory. His eyes were unfocused, his breathing still heavy. Xena's grip on his shoulder tightened slightly, grounding him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice steady, though laced with concern.

Legolas nodded slowly, the gesture more of an automatic response than a genuine affirmation. His eyes gradually focused on her, recognizing the reality of the present. Xena stepped back, allowing him space to gather himself. She walked to get dressed, casting occasional glances at him as he rubbed his face, trying to dispel the remnants of the nightmare.

The silence between them was heavy with unspoken questions and concerns. Xena sensed that pushing him to talk about his nightmares would be futile, and perhaps even harmful. She respected his boundaries, knowing all too well the shadows of one's past that refuse to be spoken.

Legolas appreciated the unspoken understanding. He had seen enough battles, enough death, and carried enough guilt to know that some things were best left buried. He stood and began to braid his hair, a ritual that grounded him, focusing on each precise movement until his thoughts were clearer.

The room gradually filled with the soft light of dawn, casting a warm glow on their surroundings. The events of the previous night, the tension, and the shared vulnerability had subtly shifted their dynamic.

As they finished preparing for the day, the silence between them was not one of awkwardness, but of mutual respect. There was an unspoken agreement to move forward, to continue their journey with the knowledge that they were not alone in their struggles. With a final glance around the room to ensure they had everything, Legolas and Xena stepped out into the morning light, and walked down the stairs.

Downstairs, the inn's common room was a bustling hive of activity. Legolas and Xena descended the stairs separately, both clearly preoccupied with their own thoughts. The morning light filtered through the dusty windows, casting a warm glow over the wooden tables and chairs. The smell of fresh bread and roasted meat wafted through the air, mingling with the muted conversations of the patrons.

Elros was already seated at a table near the fireplace, a mug of tea in his hand. He glanced up as they approached, giving a brief nod of greeting. "Good morning," he said, his tone polite but weary. "I've taken the liberty of ordering breakfast."

Xena took a seat without a word, her eyes scanning the room as if assessing potential threats. Legolas followed suit, his expression carefully neutral. They sat on opposite sides of the table, avoiding each other's gaze.

Thalion and Mírdan soon joined them, their presence lightening the atmosphere slightly. Thalion stretched and yawned, his carefree demeanor a stark contrast to the tension between Xena and Legolas. "Slept like a log," he announced, reaching for a piece of bread. "What's the plan for today?"

"I need to get another outfit," Xena said, her voice steady but cool. "I saw something yesterday that might work. I'll meet you at the stables by noon."

Elros nodded. "That gives us time to prepare the horses and gather supplies. We should aim to leave as soon as possible after."

Breakfast was served, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, though Xena and Legolas remained pointedly silent towards each other. They focused on their food, avoiding eye contact, their mutual avoidance palpable.

After finishing her meal, Xena stood up. "I'll see you at noon," she repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. She walked over to the innkeeper, reaching for her coin purse to pay for her stay.

"The room has already been paid for," the innkeeper informed her with a smile. "Your companion took care of it."

Frowning, Xena approached the table again, dropping a few silver coins in front of Elros. "I can pay for my own things," she insisted.

Elros looked up, mildly exasperated. "We're good, Xena. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

"I don't need your gestures," she replied, her voice firm. "I pay my own way."

A brief argument ensued, but Elros finally relented, pocketing the coins with a resigned sigh. Xena nodded curtly and left the inn, heading towards the part of town where she had seen the outfit she wanted.

As she walked through the market, the town of Glanhir came to life around her. Stalls were laden with colorful fabrics, intricate jewelry, and an assortment of weapons and armor. The diverse crowd included Rohirrim, dwarves, and people from Harad and Umbar, all mingling in the bustling marketplace.

Xena moved with purpose, her eyes scanning the stalls until she found the one she was looking for. The vendor, an elderly woman with sharp eyes, greeted her warmly. "Looking for something specific, dear?"

"Yes," Xena replied, her eyes locking onto a set of armor-like attire. "I need something practical for travel and combat."

The woman nodded, pulling out a set of pants made from strong fabric along with shirts and a tunic in shades of grey and black. "This should do nicely. Strong, durable, and it offers good protection."

Xena inspected the clothing, testing its flexibility and weight. Satisfied, she reached for the silver coins when someone towering over her paid the old woman. Surprised, she turned to see it was Legolas.

"What are you doing, elf?" she asked in a low tone, her eyes narrowing.

"I promised you that I would get you a new attire," Legolas said confidently, his gaze steady and unyielding.

"I told you, you only had to give a good word in Rivendell to have me an armor crafted to my liking. I don't need you to pay for this," Xena responded, taking the outfit and walking out, with Legolas following closely. "Take it," she offered him the silver coins meant to pay for the outfit.

Legolas ignored her and walked past, declining the coins. Annoyed, Xena followed him, trying to make him accept the payment. Their demeanor shifted as they continued arguing on their way back to the inn, gathering their belongings, and even as Xena changed into the new outfit.

Xena pulled on the black pants, feeling the strong fabric mold comfortably to her legs. The black-grey shirt and tunic followed, fitting her form perfectly. Legolas, who was in the room as she changed, found himself inadvertently watching. The sight of Xena adjusting her new attire was both awkward and intriguing. Her movements were confident and precise, a warrior through and through.

Legolas cleared his throat, trying to look away but finding it difficult. "You don't need to repay me. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

Xena scoffed, fastening her belt. "Goodwill? From you? I'd rather be in debt to a warg." She turned, catching his eye and holding it. The tension in the room was palpable.

"You think I'm incapable of such gestures?" Legolas asked his voice lower, almost a challenge.

"I think you're full of surprises, elf," Xena replied, her tone softer but still edged with irritation. She tossed the silver coins on the table. "But I pay my own way."

Their argument continued as they moved to the stables, preparing their horses. Xena was fastening her saddlebags while still trying to push the coins into Legolas's hand. "Just take it," she insisted.

"I said no," Legolas retorted, adjusting the bridle on his horse. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Because I don't need your charity," Xena snapped back, her eyes flashing.

As they mounted their horses, the argument carried on. Elros and the others exchanged confused glances, unsure of whether to intervene or let it play out.

Thalion nudged Mírdan with a smirk. "Think they'll ever stop bickering?"

Mírdan shook his head. "Doubtful. It's like a sport for them."

Legolas and Xena rode out of the town, their voices still raised in disagreement. The intensity of their argument was matched only by their fierce determination, both to prove their points and to understand each other better.

Elros, following behind, sighed. "This is going to be a long journey," he muttered, spurring his horse forward to keep up with the bickering duo.

((Upcoming Chapter Thirty))

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