The Price of Pride

58: Gifted Gowns & Won Sandals

ActVI

The Shadows

Chapter 58: Gifted Gowns & Won Sandals

Imladris, September 19th 3018 T.A

Xena stepped out of the bathing area with quickened steps, the basket Míresgaliel had given her tucked firmly under her arm. The sensation of Legolas's lips still lingered on hers, subtle yet undeniable. She couldn't help but recall the last time she had kissed him, back in The Wold. That kiss had been raw and impulsive, driven mostly by her own fiery emotions and the heat of the moment. It had meant little back then—a release, nothing more.

But today, it felt different. The kiss was soft and brief, yet there was an intimacy in it that she hadn't expected. It didn't seem to hold any deep meaning, but the feel of his lips, the warmth of the brief connection, stayed with her longer than it should have. Her thoughts wandered as she walked, musing on the curious tension between them, a tension that seemed to grow more pronounced each day.

By the time she reached her room, she had almost forgotten about the basket under her arm and the stolen moment in the pool. But there was Míresgaliel, standing by the window, a knowing smile on her face. "I see you've taken good care of your hair," she commented approvingly, noticing the subtle shimmer in Xena's locks. "The elvish oil—it works wonders, doesn't it? But I'm surprised you found it... it's usually kept in the private bathing areas."

Xena felt a twinge of amusement. Of course, Míresgaliel wouldn't know that Legolas himself had applied the oil to her hair, after they'd both shared an unexpectedly intimate bath. For a brief moment, Xena entertained the idea of telling her, just to see the reaction on the elf maiden's face. The thought was almost too tempting.

But instead, she only shrugged, playing it off casually. "I must've stumbled into the right place. Elvish baths are confusing, you know. All the twists and turns. But the oil's nice... I'll give you that."

Míresgaliel looked momentarily confused but let the topic drop, too pleased with Xena's appearance to press further. Xena smirked inwardly, imagining how scandalized Míresgaliel would be if she knew the truth of what had happened in the bath with the Woodland prince.

Perhaps another time.

Xena's smirk faded the moment Míresgaliel presented the gown she was expected to wear for the upcoming fest. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at the elaborate garment lying across the bed. "Míresgaliel, is this what I'm supposed to wear?" Xena's tone was dry but tinged with genuine curiosity as she eyed the delicate fabric with mild disdain. She was a warrior—used to leather, steel, and the weight of her armor—not whatever shimmering thing was laid before her now.

Míresgaliel stepped forward with a serene smile, the soft cadence of her voice soothing yet unyielding. "Yes, Lady Xena. This gown was crafted for the rarest of occasions, woven by hands that understand the power and grace you carry within."

Xena stared at the gown, perplexed by its craftsmanship. It wasn't like the other gowns Arwen had crafted for her. This was different—more regal, more personal. The fabric shimmered in the dim candlelight, shifting hues from golden amber to misty blue as Míresgaliel spread it out for her to see. The bodice was a marvel of elven artistry, with intricate golden vines and leaves spiraling across the breastplate, as though nature itself had woven the gown. It was breathtaking, and yet it unnerved her.

As Míresgaliel moved to assist her into the gown, Xena hesitated but eventually relented, standing still as the elf worked with practiced ease. The fabric slid over her body, hugging her frame snugly but comfortably. Despite its delicate appearance, the gown was surprisingly durable, designed to emphasize her strength without hiding her femininity. The vines and branches stitched across the bodice gave her the look of someone both fierce and elegant, like the embodiment of a warrior princess.