The Price of Pride

74: A Blade, a Burden, and Bonds Unseen

ActVII

Friends of New/Old

Chapter 74: A Blade, a Burden, and Bonds Unseen

Imladris, October 15th 3018 T.A

Dwarves were a mysterious race to her, known in their own tongue as the Khazâd. Xena knew only the basics about them—hints of their rich, complex history and occasional sightings of Dwarves during her time in Umbar. But face-to-face encounters? Those had been few and far between. Her knowledge was as limited as it was vague, filled with half-remembered tales and the occasional story picked up in passing. Yet today, fate had decided she'd meet one of the Khazâd directly, and his name was Gimli.

Their first encounter hadn't exactly gone smoothly; blunt words and fiery tempers had almost derailed the conversation before it began. But, much to her surprise, it hadn't taken long for them to find common ground. Speaking with Gimli came easier than expected, and their sparring session had quickly transformed mutual irritation into something resembling respect. By the time they parted ways, he had even extended her an invitation to join him for dinner, where he would be meeting with other Dwarves.

However, the reason for the invitation was less formal than she'd assumed. Gimli, in a low, conspiratorial tone, had shared a secret: they'd managed to smuggle in a few pieces of bacon. Meat was hard to come by in Rivendell, where the fare was lighter, more refined. But at the mention of bacon, Xena hadn't hesitated—she accepted at once.

Now, she sat in her room, leaning against the edge of the bed as Míresgaliel, an elven maiden, entered with an assortment of healing supplies—bandages, potions, and fragrant herbs. The last adventure had left her with a few cuts and bruises, and Míresgaliel made it a point to visit daily to tend to her wounds.

As she set the supplies on a small table, her soft, melodic voice drifted through the room. "Your scars are healing well, Lady Xena, though you would do well to be more cautious." Míresgaliel's touch was gentle as she applied a cool herbal salve to Xena's arm. "You've earned these marks through bravery, but remember, we must honor our bodies, lest they grow weary before their time."

Xena smiled slightly, amused by the subtle reprimand. "I'll try to keep that in mind, Míresgaliel. But I'd be lying if I said I'm not used to a few scars. They're part of the work."

Míresgaliel's silver eyes lifted, a glint of understanding mixed with gentle reproach. "I imagine one must grow used to such things, wandering as you do. But here in Rivendell, we value the balance between strength and wisdom. Sometimes it's wiser to step back than to charge ahead."

"Tell that to my sparring partner this morning," Xena replied with a smirk. "Gimli—he's a Dwarf, here for the council. He doesn't seem the type to step back from anything, either."

Míresgaliel's expression softened with faint amusement. "A Dwarf? It's not every day we see the Khazâd here, let alone one who finds companionship among our guests." She began wrapping a fresh bandage around Xena's wrist, her touch as light as a whisper. "And yet, you've earned his trust enough to spar? You must have a unique talent for bridging distances."

Xena shrugged, though there was a flicker of pride in her eyes. "I wouldn't call it a talent. He's as stubborn as they come, and I suppose... so am I."

The elf's laughter was soft, like a gentle breeze rustling the leaves. "Ah, stubbornness is not without its charm, I suppose. Yet, few among our people share the same kind of bond with the Khazâd. Most would consider it... unusual."