The Price of Pride

80: Words Unbound

ActVII

Friends of New/Old

Chapter 80: Words Unbound

Imladris, October 20th 3018 T.A

The halls of Rivendell were filled with a gentle, golden light as the evening sun cast long, soft rays through the archways and open windows. Legolas walked quietly, his footfalls nearly silent, as he returned to his chamber after a long day of meetings. The nobles of Rivendell had kept him occupied with polite but unrelenting conversations, ones that kept him rooted in formalities he would have rather avoided. Still, now that the darkness had receded and his strength had returned, he felt a renewed sense of duty—a readiness to fulfill his obligations, even if they were less than exciting.

Lost in thought, Legolas rounded a corner and nearly collided with a figure moving in the opposite direction. He stopped short, and there, just before him, was Aragorn, dust from the road still clinging to his worn cloak, his hair disheveled but his eyes bright.

"Aragorn!" Legolas's face lit up with a genuine smile, and he clasped his old friend by the shoulders. "You've finally returned."

Aragorn returned the gesture with equal warmth, a grin breaking through the travel-weariness on his face. "I have, and not a moment too soon, it seems. I half expected Rivendell to be in ruins by now with you left to your own devices."

Legolas laughed, the sound carrying an ease that had been absent in recent days. "Perhaps I should take offense, but truth be told, I've kept myself occupied. Too occupied, some might say."

Aragorn's brow raised slightly, and he gave his friend a knowing look. "Occupied with what? Rivendell hardly seems like a place to breed trouble."

They fell into step together, and without another word, Legolas guided Aragorn toward the gardens, where the fresh evening air was cool, and the trees swayed gently. The gardens were a place where conversations could flow freely, unhindered by walls or listeners. As they walked, the bond between them—the bond of trust and friendship forged in countless battles and journeys—felt as strong as ever.

"Trouble finds its way to me, even here," Legolas admitted after a moment. "Though it wasn't entirely uninvited. I... took on a quest, you could say. For someone else."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You truly have found yourself in mischief. Go on, tell me. I sense there's more to this story."

Legolas hesitated, glancing around them as if to weigh how much to share. "It had to do with the mortal Xena, who was traveling with us to Rivendell. You met her. "

Aragorn's expression shifted to one of deep interest. "And yet you speak of her as a friend."

"More than a friend, in some ways," Legolas admitted, his tone reflective. "She saved my life, and she's earned my respect. She broke her weapon while aiding me, I thought to repay my debt and offered to help her find a sword."

Aragorn chuckled, nodding with understanding. "So, naturally, you threw yourself into a reckless quest. It's good to see nothing has changed."

They shared a laugh, both men easing into the familiarity of their camaraderie. As they moved deeper into the gardens, the scent of flowers filled the air, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the evening. The weight of recent days seemed to lift as they spoke, each of them finding comfort in the presence of the other.