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)

ActIV

Mellon

Chapter 41: Breaking Barriers, Truth Laid Bare

Cardolan, August 26th 3018 T.A.

The further they rode through Cardolan, the more they encountered the harsh truth that haunted this land. Darkness had indeed reached these paths, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake. The towns they passed after that were burned to the ground, with the charred remains of homes and the decaying bodies of the inhabitants serving as grim reminders of the evil that now stalked this world. Not every town in Cardolan had been as fortunate as the one they had just left; eventually, death had found them all.

They stopped frequently to bury the dead, a solemn and necessary task, hoping against hope to find survivors. But there were none. Men, women, children—no one had been spared. The stench of decay filled the air, and the sight of so much death weighed heavily on their hearts. It was not the first time they had witnessed such horror, but something about this particular scene felt more oppressive, more heartbreaking than before.

Perhaps it was because Xena was finally coming to terms with the reality of this world, a world that was as real and brutal as her own. The rising evil here was palpable, and the burning towns and lifeless bodies reminded her all too much of her own past wrongdoings. The elves, who had often annoyed her with their aloofness and superiority, suddenly made more sense. Things were different here—evil was a tangible, consuming force, and this evil was much darker than anything she had faced in her own world.

She realized that she had misjudged the elves, especially Legolas. Yes, he was prideful and arrogant, and his company sometimes seemed overly judgmental, but evil? They were far from it. Even Legolas, who was clearly wrestling with his own nightmares and darkness, was not evil. He was a warrior, like her, but with a purity of heart that she could only envy.

But Xena couldn't say the same about herself. A part of her was still evil, still tainted by the darkness she had once embraced. She had those moments when the darkness resurfaced, and deep down, she feared that she might slip back into that awful person she once was. Without Gabrielle by her side to keep her grounded, the truth of her own nature was harder to ignore. Today, more than any other day, that truth weighed heavily on her.

Legolas had noticed the change in her demeanor, though he said nothing. She had told him parts of her story before, and had confessed to her dark past, but he couldn't reconcile that with the woman he saw before him. She could claim to be evil all she wanted, but the elf didn't believe it. Perhaps she had been once, in her past, but not now. He had seen glimpses of her darkness, that much was true. Xena was far from innocent; she was battle-hardened, scarred, and complex. But evil? No, he didn't see that in her. There was too much light in her to be truly evil, even if she couldn't see it herself.

That night, after they had made camp, they ate in silence. The events of the day had drained them all, even these seasoned warriors. The weight of death was too near, too overwhelming, even for those accustomed to battle. One by one, the company settled down to sleep, but Xena found no rest. She lay there, her mind churning with thoughts of the past, of her nature, and of the darkness that seemed to follow her like a shadow.

Sleep was elusive, and she lay there, staring up at the stars that offered little comfort. It was then that she felt a soft nudge on her shoulder. Startled, she turned to see Legolas standing over her, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Without a word, he motioned for her to follow him.

Xena hesitated for a moment, then silently rose to her feet. She followed him away from the camp, where the others were already lost in their own troubled dreams. The night was cool, and the silence between them was thick with unspoken words.

They walked until they reached a small clearing, where the moonlight bathed the ground in a soft, silver glow. Legolas finally stopped and turned to face her. His eyes, usually so guarded, now held a depth of understanding that she hadn't seen before. He studied her for a moment, as if searching for the right words.

"You're troubled," he finally said, his voice gentle.

Xena nodded, though she didn't trust herself to speak just yet. The weight of the day's horrors and her own inner turmoil was still too fresh.

Legolas took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "You carry a burden, Xena. I see it in your eyes. But you are not alone in this fight. We all carry our own darkness, our own regrets. It does not define us."

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "It's not just the past, Legolas. It's… it's who I am. I've done things… terrible things. And I don't know if I'll ever be free of that."

He reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, the warmth of his touch grounding her in the moment. "You are not that person anymore. We all have a past, but it's our choices now that matter. And I know you, Xena. You have chosen to fight for what is right, to protect those who cannot protect themselves. That is who you are."

His words, simple and sincere, cut through the darkness that had been weighing her down. For the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could believe that she wasn't beyond redemption.

Xena sighed, feeling the weight of Legolas's faith in her settle heavily on her shoulders. It scared her, the trust he placed in her, because she knew he didn't truly understand what she was capable of, what she had done. She kept her darker past hidden, letting only fragments of it slip out. Her strength, her fury—it wasn't just an act, but a shield she wore to hide the brokenness inside. She had been shattered long before Gabrielle, long before Hercules had shown her the error of her ways.

But that broken part of her, the darkness that lurked in the corners of her soul, was something she couldn't live without. It was a balance she struggled to maintain. She took a step away from Legolas, finding a spot where they could sit and talk. She sat down and waited for him to follow. Enough with the secrets—tonight she would tell him the truth.

She began by speaking of the woman she had been, a warlord whose path of destruction had left towns in ruins and lives shattered. She didn't go into all the details, but she spoke of how the burning towns they had passed reminded her of her own past, of the places she had left smoldering in her wake. She confessed that while she hadn't deliberately killed women and children, they were often the collateral damage of her brutal conquests.

As she spoke, Legolas listened in silence, his face unreadable. The details of her former life made him look at her with a mix of disbelief and sorrow. He had suspected that she carried darkness within her, but not to this extent. Yet, he didn't interrupt her, didn't offer empty reassurances that such darkness could be forgotten. Instead, he told her what he would tell himself—that she had to live with it, and live with the purpose of saving as many lives as she could from now on.

His understanding took her by surprise. The proud prince of the Woodland Realm, who often seemed aloof and untouchable, understood her. He understood that the need to aid others was driven by a deep-seated guilt, a desire to atone for the wrongs that could never be fully erased. Even Gabrielle, who knew her better than anyone else, couldn't fully grasp that part of her. But Legolas did, and it made her feel less alone.

His understanding was enough to make her breathe a little easier, to think that perhaps in this world, she wasn't entirely on her own. She had friends, not many, but people who would call her back if she ever lost herself again. She turned to him, her eyes serious, no longer holding back the truths she had been keeping from him.

She told him everything. She revealed that she had followed him with the intent to kill him, that she had been contracted to do so. "The contract was simple: kill an elf," she began, her voice steady. "I didn't know who he was, only that he was supposedly a force of evil who had betrayed his own mother to the forces of Sauron and eventually killed her. The quest had been posted years ago, back when Sauron was still known as the Necromancer. The contract was issued by one of his lieutenants, a figure known as Alakar."

Legolas's reaction was not one of shock or outrage, but of quiet contemplation. When he admitted that he had already guessed she was after him, Xena looked at him in bewilderment. He had known, and still, he had allowed her to travel with him. There was a hint of pride in his demeanor, as if he knew it would not be easy for a human to simply kill him. Xena didn't argue with him on that point; she knew she could have tried, and maybe even succeeded, but that was not the path she had chosen.

What truly unsettled Legolas was not the contract on his life, but the mention of Alakar. His expression grew serious, much like Aragorn's had when Xena mentioned the name. She noticed his concern and pointed out that Aragorn had reacted in the same way. Legolas was not surprised; he had seen her speaking with Aragorn and knew how deeply his friend cared for him. It made sense that they would have discussed this.

What shocked Legolas was the name itself: Alakar. Of course, he knew who Alakar was. The sorcerer's reputation was well-known in Mirkwood, his powers and dark deeds spoken of in whispers. But this was different. The quest Alakar had issued, the bounty with Legolas's name, felt personal, almost targeted. Legolas began to wonder if his nightmares were more than just figments of a tormented mind—perhaps there were truths hidden within them.

For now, however, he kept his fears to himself. He still blamed himself for his mother's fate, believing that, in some way, he had delivered her into Alakar's hands. Maybe Alakar had merely seized the opportunity, using her capture to twist and torture her into becoming the Dark Queen, but Legolas believed it was his own actions that had led her there.

He spoke of it to no one, not even Xena. But now, with this new information, those nightmares felt more real, more valid. The shadows of doubt crept closer, and Legolas wondered what truths might yet come to light.

Tonight, Xena saw a different side of Legolas. He knew more than he let on, and there was a fearlessness in him that she hadn't fully appreciated before. Two things became clear to her: he trusted Aragorn implicitly, and he trusted her. In a different scenario, she might have expected him to be offended, to demand a duel for the betrayal. But Legolas was far from that.

The fact that Xena had accepted a contract to kill him didn't seem to faze him. It was clear to him that she was smart enough to understand that the contract was issued by the enemy, and she had no intention of fulfilling it. Xena didn't need to admit that to him—Legolas already knew. What truly concerned him was Alakar.

Alakar was a name that carried weight, a sorcerer known for his cruelty and his dark powers. The idea that Xena had accepted a mission tied to him and hadn't completed it put her in danger. Though Xena wasn't afraid and was confident she could handle whatever came her way, Legolas warned her not to take Alakar lightly.

"You must be careful, Xena," he said, his voice serious. "Alakar is not a foe to be underestimated. If he discovers that you accepted a mission and failed to fulfill it, he will not let it go."

Xena nodded, absorbing his words. She wasn't one to shy away from danger, but Legolas's concern touched her. She knew he was right; Alakar was a threat she couldn't afford to ignore.

As they sat in the quiet of the night, the weight of their conversation settled between them, thick like the mist that clung to the ground. Xena could feel the shift in the air as she posed the question that lingered in her mind, the one about Legolas and his nightmares. She had sensed his reluctance, seen the way his expression changed whenever the subject of sleep was mentioned. But this time, she felt it was necessary, not out of curiosity, but out of concern.

Legolas didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stood up abruptly, taking a few steps away from her, his back to her as if the distance might shield him from the vulnerability the question demanded. His normally composed demeanor was fractured, and for a moment, Xena feared she had pushed too far. The silence between them grew heavy, oppressive, and she waited, giving him the time he needed to gather his thoughts.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, almost hesitant. "You were right," he admitted, each word seemingly pulled from a place deep within him. "The nightmare… it comes to me every night." He paused, as if the act of speaking it aloud was painful, his voice tinged with the weight of his own sorrow. "I, too, have my own darkness, Xena. My own wrongdoings that perhaps run as deep and unforgiving as yours."

He couldn't bring himself to face her as he spoke. The vulnerability it required was something he wasn't accustomed to, especially not with someone who had only recently become a trusted companion. But he continued, revealing just enough for her to understand without delving into the details that haunted him.

"It is my way of paying for what I've done," he said, his tone resigned, as if the nightly torment was something he had accepted as part of his existence. "There is nothing more to say. It is a burden I carry, one I don't wish to burden others with. My crime, my penance."

Xena listened without interruption, recognizing the familiar pain in his words. She didn't need to pry or demand answers; she knew when someone was speaking from a place of deep-seated guilt. Legolas wasn't ready to share the specifics of his torment, and she respected that. There were wounds that words couldn't heal, only time and understanding could.

Rising from her seat, she walked over to where he stood, his back still turned to her. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder, the simple gesture conveying what words could not. She didn't offer empty reassurances or try to convince him that his guilt was misplaced. Instead, she stood by his side, her presence a silent promise that he wasn't alone in his suffering.

Legolas didn't move, but he felt the warmth of her hand, the solidarity in her silence. For the first time, he had admitted to someone the depth of his torment, the nightmares that plagued him every night. It was a small step, but an important one, and Xena's quiet understanding was more comforting than any words could have been.

As they remained there, the night closing in around them, they both understood that they had crossed a threshold in their relationship. They had shared their secrets, their fears, and in doing so, had forged a bond that went beyond mere companionship. In this world filled with darkness and uncertainty, they had found a sliver of light in each other, a shared understanding that neither was as alone as they had once believed.

The silence between them was no longer heavy, but instead, it was filled with a mutual respect and a burgeoning trust. In that moment, they both knew that whatever lay ahead, they would face it together. And for now, that was enough.

((Upcoming Chapter Fourty - Two))

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