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)

ActI

Undoing The Quest

Chapter 83: Winds of Umbar

Mithlond, November 15th - December 3rd 3018 T.A

The night before reaching the coast, Xena quietly approached the elves' camp. For days now, she had felt their presence at a distance, watching her with careful vigilance. Tonight, however, she didn't hide from them. The three elves—Elros, Thalion, and Mírdan—looked up from their quiet preparations, mild surprise on their faces. They had suspected she knew of their presence, yet this was the first time she openly joined them. Xena led Chubby to where their horses were tied, letting him drink from the trough they'd filled, then gathered her gear and settled in their circle without a word. When she finally spoke, her tone was quiet but firm.

"We need to talk," she said, her gaze steady, daring any of them to disagree. The elves exchanged a glance, curiosity and wariness in their eyes. They did not challenge her, and after they shared a meal—mostly greens and vegetables, which Xena grudgingly endured—Elros turned to her, ready to address the matter directly.

"Xena," he began, his tone cautious yet authoritative, "if you're aiming to reach Mithlond and find a ship to Umbar, let me be clear: it won't work. Even if I could, I would not call upon that kind of favor. You may have traveled far with us, but this route you plan—it's not so simple."

Xena listened, her expression unreadable. When Elros had finished, she leaned forward, her voice low. "You misunderstood, Elros. Mithlond was never my final destination. I never intended to use the Grey Havens themselves to reach Umbar, but rather to get close enough to find… other means of passage." She met his gaze directly, her meaning unmistakable.

Thalion, his brow furrowed, glanced between Xena and Elros. "You think we'll let you walk into Umbar alone? You're skilled, yes, but Umbar is not just dangerous—it's treacherous in ways that even you may not expect."

Xena's mouth twisted in a small, knowing smile. "I know more about Umbar than you might realize. I lived there for years, long enough to learn the streets, the alleys, and the ways to avoid trouble. This is my mission, and I intend to see it through on my own."

Mírdan, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. "So you've planned to abandon us here, leave without warning, and take a ship we can't follow?" His tone was calm, but there was an edge of frustration beneath it.

"Yes," she replied, bluntly. "You've followed me far enough, and I respect that. I respect Legolas's command, even. But this… Umbar… it's not a place where your presence would go unnoticed. I would be drawing you into danger needlessly."

Elros's expression hardened, a flash of defiance in his eyes. "Needlessly? Legolas charged us with your protection, and you would dismiss that so lightly?"

Xena held his gaze, her voice unyielding. "I dismiss nothing lightly, Elros. I know what Legolas asked of you, and I don't take it for granted. But this mission is not just about me finding Umbar—it's about finding answers, answers that are buried in places where even I'm not entirely welcome. If I bring you, I bring risk. I bring exposure."

Thalion leaned forward, his voice tempered with frustration. "And you think leaving without our help will make things easier? If something happens to you, what are we supposed to tell Legolas? That we simply watched you walk into the lion's den alone?"

Xena looked at each of them in turn, her face a blend of determination and respect. "Legolas sent you to watch over me, yes. But he also trusts me. He knows why I'm here, and he knows I wouldn't leave without reason. I need to do this alone—not just for my sake, but for the sake of my mission. And you know I'm right." Her voice softened, her expression sincere. "If I had wanted to leave you in the dark, I wouldn't be here now. I wouldn't have come to speak with you."

Elros's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. "You're asking us to defy Legolas's command."

"I'm asking you to see reason," she replied calmly. "If you follow me to Umbar, you'll attract attention, and more than that, you'll limit what I can accomplish. Legolas may not like it, but he'll understand." She looked directly at Elros, her gaze unwavering. "He would want what's best for the mission, just as you do."

For a moment, they all sat in silence, the tension thick between them. Finally, Mírdan sighed, rubbing his temples. "She's right, Elros. We can't overlook the nature of Umbar. Our presence could very well make her work impossible."

Elros's expression softened only slightly as he exchanged a long look with Thalion, who gave a reluctant nod. At last, Elros turned to Xena, a trace of respect in his voice, though his tone remained firm. "You're certain of this plan?"

"As certain as I can be," she replied. "This is a dangerous path, but one I have to walk alone. You've done what Legolas asked. You've brought me this far, and I'm grateful. But the rest… the rest is mine to finish."

Thalion let out a low chuckle, though there was a note of regret in his voice. "Stubborn as any elf I've known." He shook his head. "Fine. We'll let you go… but do us the courtesy of making it back alive."

A faint smile played at the corner of her lips. "I'll do my best," she said, grateful for their reluctant understanding.

Elros finally nodded, though his gaze held a warning. "If we sense you in trouble, we will return, regardless of your wishes. Remember that, Xena."

She inclined her head, her voice filled with gratitude. "I would expect nothing less."

With the agreement reached, an unspoken understanding settled among them. Elros, Thalion, and Mírdan knew that, come morning, Xena would likely find a ship to take her to Umbar, and they would be left with the difficult task of returning to Rivendell to report to Legolas. It would not be an easy message to deliver—telling their prince they had allowed her to go on alone. Yet they understood her reasoning and recognized that their presence would only complicate her mission.

Tonight, they spoke in hushed voices, the weight of what lay ahead softening the moment. Xena kept the details of her plan close, though she offered them a brief outline of her intentions. "I'm retracing my steps," she told them, her gaze steady. "Starting with the one who gave me the mission to kill Legolas. Somewhere along that path is the truth I need to uncover."

Elros leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. "Your quest is dangerous, Xena, but so is the task set before the world now. We may not cross paths again soon, but you should know the gravity of what lies ahead." He glanced at Thalion and Mírdan before continuing, each of them sharing the burden of the news. "At Elrond's council, we learned that the One Ring—the ring of Sauron himself—has been found. It was brought to Rivendell by a hobbit named Frodo, and its fate was determined: it must be destroyed."

They went on, recounting the tale of the One Ring and its dark history. Xena listened intently, and though she had heard legends of a powerful ring, she hadn't known the full scope of its power or its ties to Sauron's impending war. "So this Ring must be destroyed," she murmured, absorbing the weight of it. "And you say Frodo is meant to carry it to Mount Doom?" She recalled meeting him with the rest of the hobbits in Rivendell.

Mírdan nodded, his voice solemn. "The task fell to him, and nine were chosen to accompany him—the Fellowship of the Ring. They will attempt what seems impossible: to walk into Mordor and cast the Ring into the fires of Mount Doom, where it was forged."

"Legolas is part of this Fellowship," Thalion added, a note of pride mixed with concern in his voice. "He pledged to protect the hobbit and see this quest through, even if it means facing the heart of darkness itself."

They paused, allowing Xena to take in the gravity of their words. She was silent for a moment, considering the danger of such a mission. "It sounds like exactly the kind of challenge Legolas would take on," she said with a small, knowing smile. "He would not sit idly by while the fate of Middle-earth hangs in the balance."

Thalion offered a wry chuckle. "No, he would not. But Thranduil will be another matter. Legolas's father will not be pleased to hear of his son's peril. He may understand the duty, but a father's heart can be harder to sway than that of a warrior."

Xena's expression softened. "It's a noble quest, but I can see why a parent would struggle to let his child face such dangers. Still, I can't imagine Legolas would let that stop him."

Elros nodded in agreement. "You're right. He is determined, even stubborn, and this mission speaks to the deepest part of who he is. The Fellowship is set to depart around December 25th. Until then, he remains in Rivendell, preparing."

Xena's gaze drifted toward the fire, her mind momentarily wandering to Legolas. She tried to stifle the question that rose within her but found herself asking it anyway. "And… how is he? The nightmares—have they shown any sign of returning?"

Mírdan's voice was calm, reassuring. "He is well, Xena. The nightmares are still with him, yes, but not in the same way as before. He remains troubled at night, but by day, he is his usual self, carrying that familiar pride and strength."

Xena nodded, feeling a small wave of relief. She knew the curse was not yet fully broken, yet it brought her comfort to know that his spirit remained strong. Whatever lay ahead for him and the Fellowship, he would face it with the courage that defined him.

As the dawn broke over their camp, they shared a final, quiet meal. Each of them knew the weight of their next steps, and the quiet morning air was filled with a mixture of resolve and unspoken farewells. When at last it was time to part, Xena stood and looked at each of them, her gaze steady.

"Thank you, all of you," she said, a note of warmth in her voice. "For traveling with me, for watching over me even if I didn't ask for it. And if you see him… tell Legolas that he has my respect. And my hopes for his mission."

Elros, Thalion, and Mírdan inclined their heads, each of them acknowledging her words with solemnity. Elros met her gaze one last time, his expression softened with reluctant respect. "Farewell, Xena. May the winds guide you to Umbar and beyond."

With a final nod, Xena mounted Chubby, and without looking back, she rode toward the coast. Behind her, the elves began their own journey, knowing they would soon stand before Legolas with both pride in their duty and the bittersweet knowledge that they had let her go.

Xena rode to the coast with Chubby, her eyes scanning the landscape until she found a high cliff overlooking the sea. From there, she could watch for a ship coming from Umbar, though she knew it wouldn't be a daily sight. Ships from Umbar came sporadically, typically once a week if the winds and conditions were favorable. She settled in to wait, finding a hidden alcove along the rocky coast where she could keep herself and Chubby sheltered from view.

The days passed slowly, each one wearing on her patience as she kept watch. Finally, on the third day, she saw it—a ship with dark sails, unmistakably Corsair, bearing the black flag of Umbar. She recognized the familiar design of the vessel: sleek, ominous, and unmistakably built for stealth and speed. She'd seen many like it during her years in Umbar, where such ships ruled the coast, bringing raiders and spies from Harad and beyond. Her next challenge would be gaining passage aboard.

Xena took a moment to adjust her cloak, pulling it tight to conceal her leather armor and any hint of her weapons. She kept her hood low, casting her face in shadow. The customs of Umbar and Harad were vastly different, and she'd learned to respect their codes. Beneath her cloak, she wore a pendant carved from dark wood, a gift from Harith, a friend of Far Harad. The pendant's intricate symbols were unknown to her, but it had often opened doors without questions, suggesting to those who recognized it that she held some hidden influence in the South.

When the ship finally docked, Xena observed a mix of Corsairs and men from Harad disembark. Some were spies, others warriors—all clearly aligned with darker forces. This wasn't a group she'd trust, but her options were limited. She moved through the gathered crowd, blending in with her cloak drawn tight, carefully hiding anything that might reveal her recent associations with the elven folk. She approached the gangplank leading to the ship, her gaze scanning for anyone who might bar her way.

As she reached the boarding line, she noticed a wiry man with a snake tattoo curling up his forearm—a familiar figure from her past. Malik. Xena's eyes narrowed; it was rare for anyone from Umbar to be surprised, but the look on his face showed a flicker of astonishment. Malik had known her well in the past, long enough to have assumed she'd never return to Umbar, especially after traveling in the company of elves. And yet, here she was.

Malik moved toward her, his expression wary but tinged with curiosity. As he approached, Xena allowed her hood to fall slightly, just enough for him to recognize her.

"Well, well," Malik said, his voice smooth but edged with suspicion. "I never thought I'd see you back here, Xena. Especially after what I've seen—that you were keeping company with a prince of Mirkwood himself. Why would you risk returning to the lands of Umbar and Harad? Surely the life of the elves has softened you?"

Xena met his gaze evenly, unphased. "I have unfinished business in Umbar, Malik. I need access to the city and a meeting with Darian. This concerns an old matter… a job I accepted once."

Malik's eyes flickered with interest, though he didn't pry into specifics. "So, you're returning to Darian." He gave her an appraising look. "I don't particularly care why you're going back, as long as you can pay."

He glanced down at Chubby, clearly taking note of the horse. "And I assume you'll be bringing that beast with you? Passage for you and the horse won't come cheap. Prices have risen since you left." He folded his arms, a smirk crossing his face as he waited.

Xena reached into her pouch and pulled out a gold coin, holding it up between her fingers, its edge catching the light. "One gold coin, Malik. That's more than enough to cover my passage—and the horse."

Malik's smirk widened, but his eyes gleamed with greed. He extended his hand, and Xena placed the coin into his palm, his fingers closing over it. "You always knew how to negotiate, Xena," he said, tucking the coin away. "Welcome aboard. Just remember, these aren't the safe folk you once knew. You're riding with some of Sauron's allies now."

"I know the company I'm keeping," Xena replied coolly, pulling her hood back up. "Just make sure we reach Umbar."

Malik chuckled, stepping aside to let her pass. "For a gold coin, I'll get you there myself if need be. But I'm curious, Xena—after all this time, what has you running back to the dangers of Umbar?"

Xena glanced back at him, her gaze hard. "Let's just say some debts are overdue."

Malik's laughter followed her up the gangplank, but she ignored him, her mind focused on the task ahead. She led Chubby onto the ship, finding a quiet corner where she could keep him settled. As she watched the crew and other passengers board—many of them spies and agents from Harad, all looking as though they'd slit a throat for a coin—she tightened her grip on her cloak. She was surrounded by dangerous men with dangerous loyalties, but this was her path, and she would see it through.

As the ship pulled away from the shore, Xena settled in for the voyage, her thoughts already turning to the next steps. Her journey to Umbar had begun, and with it, the quest to uncover the truth that had eluded her for so long.

The voyage to Umbar stretched across fourteen long days, each one filled with tension and uncertainty. The Corsair ship cut through the sea with practiced ease, its black sails taut against the wind as they headed southward, ever closer to the lawless port city. Xena kept to herself in a small, dim corner of the deck, her cloak pulled close, her eyes ever watchful. She was no stranger to the uneasy alliance between the Corsairs and the men of Harad, and the eyes that lingered on her from time to time were anything but friendly.

Malik, never one to waste an opportunity, made his presence known from the start. He observed her often, a smirk playing on his lips as he sauntered across the deck, occasionally stopping to exchange words with the captain or to give orders to the crew. His snake tattoo gleamed under the sun, curling up his arm like a warning. He seemed to enjoy her discomfort, as though testing her resolve to see if the years among elves had softened her, if she'd become someone other than the Xena he remembered.

On the fourth day, Malik approached her as she was tending to Chubby, who was restless from the confined quarters. Xena sensed him coming and turned to face him, her gaze steady.

"Still clinging to that beast?" Malik sneered, crossing his arms. "You know, Xena, it's not like you to be so sentimental. A Corsair ship isn't exactly built for… pets."

Xena shot him a cold look. "Chubby's not just a pet," she replied, her tone cutting. "And I don't need you or anyone else telling me what's practical."

Malik chuckled, unfazed by her sharp words. "You haven't changed. That's good to know. But don't think you're safe here, even if you've paid. You're traveling with Sauron's allies, and some of them would kill you just as soon as look at you if they knew your full story."

Xena shrugged, unfazed. "Let them try."

Malik gave her a mocking bow, but there was a hint of respect in his eyes. "Good. I'd hate to think you'd gone soft."

As the days passed, Xena grew accustomed to the rhythmic creaking of the ship, the endless swaying of the deck beneath her feet, and the salty air that permeated everything. She stayed careful, using the time to observe the crew and understand the dynamics of the men around her. She recognized some as Haradrim warriors—tall, dark-eyed, and grim-faced—men who lived under the shadow of Sauron's influence. The Corsairs, on the other hand, were more rough-edged, pirates and raiders who cared only for plunder and power. She knew the precarious alliance between these two groups, forged by Sauron's dark promises, was one of necessity rather than trust.

One night, on the eighth day, a sudden commotion broke out on deck. Xena was jolted awake by shouts and the sound of steel clashing. She leapt up, grabbing her chakram, and darted to the deck, her senses immediately assessing the situation. A group of Haradrim warriors had clashed with some of the Corsairs, their voices raised in a language she didn't understand, though the intent was clear. Blades gleamed in the moonlight, and the air was thick with the threat of violence.

Malik appeared amidst the chaos, his voice rising above the din as he attempted to restore order. "Enough!" he shouted, shoving two of the men apart. "There will be no blood spilled on this ship! Save it for Umbar, if you must." His gaze landed on Xena, and he raised an eyebrow. "What, come to join the fight?"

Xena folded her arms, her chakram gleaming at her side. "I'd rather not waste my energy on squabbling fools," she replied coolly. "But if anyone crosses me, I'll finish this argument myself."

Malik smirked, nodding approvingly. "Keep that attitude. You'll need it." He turned back to the feuding men, ordering them to stand down and reminding them that they would all be welcome in Umbar if they kept their weapons pointed outward, not inward.

Xena lingered on deck, watching as the men reluctantly returned to their posts, the tension simmering down but not disappearing entirely. She could feel Malik's eyes on her, studying her with an expression that was hard to read.

"You've still got that fire in you, I see," he said, his tone more thoughtful than mocking. "But don't think that means you'll find allies on this ship."

"Never expected to," Xena replied, her gaze fixed on the dark horizon.

After that night, the atmosphere on the ship grew darker. Suspicion and unease hung over the crew, and the Corsairs and Haradrim kept to their own groups, each eyeing the other with distrust. Xena took advantage of the tension, using it as a cover to move more freely on deck. On the tenth day, she overheard whispers of a plan to raid a Gondorian coastal outpost before reaching Umbar. The idea was met with enthusiasm by the Corsairs but concern by the Haradrim, who had orders from Sauron himself to avoid unnecessary engagements until reaching the city.

Late that night, Xena found Malik by the prow, gazing out over the moonlit sea. She approached quietly, her voice low. "A raid on Gondor would be suicide."

Malik glanced at her, his face unreadable. "Maybe. But then, these men live for the thrill of it. Sometimes, death in battle is better than waiting in shadows."

"Spoken like someone with nothing to lose," Xena observed. "Or someone who's gotten too comfortable in the chaos."

He laughed softly. "And what about you? Here you are, riding a Corsair ship bound for Umbar, alone and without your elven friends. Are you comfortable with the chaos?"

Xena met his gaze evenly. "Comfort has never been a part of my life, Malik. I'm here for answers. And I'll get them, no matter what it takes."

Malik nodded, a faint hint of admiration in his expression. "Well, we'll be reaching Umbar soon enough. Just don't expect a welcome home." He glanced at her with a wry smile. "There are those who haven't forgotten what you left behind."

Xena's eyes hardened, but she said nothing. She knew that returning to Umbar was a risk, that old alliances had soured and enemies waited in every shadowed alley. But the answers she sought lay there, and she would face whatever threats came with them.

On the fourteenth day, the dark silhouette of Umbar's coastline appeared on the horizon. Xena felt a mixture of resolve and wariness settle over her as the ship drew closer to the harbor, its sharp towers and shadowed buildings rising against the hazy sky. Malik caught her gaze one last time as they approached the docks.

"Remember, Xena," he said, his tone low, almost a warning. "This city has a long memory, and it won't care if you're friend or foe. Tread carefully."

She gave him a curt nod, her gaze fixed on the harbor as the ship glided toward the docks. The Corsairs and Haradrim began to disembark, each heading into the darkened streets with their own purposes. Xena led Chubby down the gangplank, her every sense on high alert. She had returned to Umbar, a city as dangerous and volatile as the waves that brought her here. With one last glance back at Malik, Xena stepped into the shadows of Umbar, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

((Upcoming Chapter Eighty-Four))

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