Chapter 14

They rode out, early the next morning, leaving the safe haven in Rohan. Aura felt incredibly free, the wind sweeping away all her fears. She had never been in a true battle and she was running towards an army, but at this time, none of that mattered. As it was now, she was riding through a golden valley, her brotherhood at her side; nothing had ever felt so perfect. But scenery past by her eyes, as weeks did as well; and the memories of it faded just as quickly as the time seemed to fly.

"Under the shelter of trees, we shall find camp." Legolas told them one night, as the light began to fade. To the woods, they rode and safe haven they did find for the night. A fire was set and food was warmed. Aura was elected the chef of the gang, as she would not trust the mens' cooking, and as she cooked, she took the liberty of teaching the males how to as well. No matter how good the food was, Aura found no hunger within her. She was still awed by the strange new life that she led. She studied the carefree faces of her comrades when her thoughts were interrupted by a jolly voice.

"I wish to know how this lass managed to defeat the elf at a duel." Gimli laughed, followed by the others. Legolas' face remained stone cold, hiding the fury boiling inside him. The wound in his ego was still raw and the teasing stung like salt.

Aragorn turned to Eomyr saying, "If only you could have seen Aura fly through the air and land right on him. I would do anything to see it again."

"Would you teach me how, sweet maiden?" Gimli shyly asked. Aura giggled at the thought of the dwarf attacking anything in such a manner.

"But Gimli, you have no sword!" she laughed.

"We'll get him a stick!" Aragorn offered gaily, lifting his mug in a toast. Surely enough, the king found a short, sturdy stick to Gimli's liking and Aura began to show her student her move.

"You must catch your opponent by surprise, as he is not to expect the swing of the sword, and may not block it. You must not hit him either; if he is swift, he will back away, if not, he will be killed anyway. It is the momentum of the first swing that will allow you to swing around the sword… err… stick." She explained and then showed him the movement.

It seemed peculiar, this beautiful maiden teaching the dwarf lord to fight. She, so fragile looking and innocent, looking lovingly upon the rough and rugged dwarf. The tall, angel-like lady, side by side with the short and stubby warlord. The two Kings and the Prince found it quite humorous as Gimli's weapon would not stick in the ground, but would slip due to its curved nature, bringing him to the ground. Eventually, he did master the move, but had no mark to aim at.

"I believe it would be better if I had a target." Gimli grunted "Legolas! I know that you may take a fall quite well!"

Legolas, although his pride still hurt, could not deny the pleasure to his friend and took a stance in front of Gimli. A mighty swing came powered by the little body and Legolas stepped back. The stick was plunged into the ground and Gimli flew into Legolas.

"I got you!" Gimli roared "One kill ahead of you, elf!" to the cause of great laughter.

"You did very well." Aura exclaimed to her dear friend.

Aragorn, observing the scene, approached Legolas, who had the dwarf still on him, and looked down upon him quizzically. "It simply isn't the same, is it?" he asked his elf-friend who finally laughed at the situation.

"No, it isn't." he replied. The boys laughed heartedly, leaving Aura staring at them blankly, wondering what they meant. Aragorn looked over to her in more than mild amusement as he realized that she had not understood the meaning behind the mild farce.

"Could she have really had such a sheltered life that she cannot recognize such affection?" he thought. The pinched confusion on her brow gave him his answer.

Instead of trying to comprehend, she turned around and went to find Aglar. The black stallion greeted her with a great neigh.

"I prefer your company, I believed." She told him, "I don't believe I will ever understand men, or male elves for that matter." She told him.

"I'm not sure that I would want to understand them. They are far too complicated." Aura decided, and then realized, "He makes me so unsure of myself."

However, Aragorn's warning interrupted her revelation, "Do not stray far, Aura!"

"I am only but steps away." She answered.

"All the same, difference in steps at night may seal ones fate." Aragorn wisely told her and she listened for he was her elder and knew much more of the world than she. She obediently approached the fire.

"I will stay close." She promised and Aragorn simply nodded. The mood in the group had now become more somber, and a loneliness filled Aura's heart. Perhaps it was the secret she kept that made her feel alone, perhaps it was her father's illness that tormented, but these moments made her feel much lonelier. Aragorn, seemingly reading her thoughts, put his hand on her shoulder and told her,

"You are not alone, I am here and I will not leave you to despair."

It was her turn to nod, feeling only slight comfort. She forced a smile and decided to ease her mind through dreams. She lied down next to the fire and stared into the heat, letting the movement of the flames transport her to the dream world.

Darkness encompassed her first. Liquid movement took her and her body was no longer her won. Blue haze gave her sight again. His face, so much more shallow now, gazed at her. His eyes had sunk deep into its sockets; the portals, stripped of any wisdom they ever held. No, they were not his eyes at all. They were possessed. They tortured the face she loved. They carved his cheeks to be thin, they creased his forehead gravely, they made it encompass a mocking hate. Her father but not her father at all.

"You know me," the terrible voice growled, "Never had I appeared before you, but you know it is I."

"You may be many things," her voice was cold and echoed, "You are not my father."

"Nor did I say so," The monster laughed, "You answer with your eyes but your being knows."

"You are the Dark Master." She breathed. The evil glowed from the eyes of her father's shell.

"You know, a child may not deny her father. Why do you fear me, daughter? Surely you know that I may not harm you." The voice soothed.

"I am not your child nor are you my father." Aura growled with immense hate.

"I am father to the world, may you not be my daughter, my Aura?"

"You are no father but the sword held at the throat of Middle Earth." She spat.

"Ah… a sword. Yes. My sword. I wish for its return." He reveled.

"You wish to rid yourself of the world." Aura barked.

The figure became fiery, it raged in its blue light and its eyes burned.

"I shall regain the power of the sword. You, my child, will stop your search."

"I shall not. Elrond will not be left to your torturous will." She yelled.

"Then your father shall." The creature growled.

In a flash, the presence left her father. A glint of recognition was revived and warmth filled his look.

"Father!" she exclaimed as she ran to him. He smiled warmly in welcome, inviting her in an embrace, but a most powerful force held her back.

"Then your father shall." The voice echoed in her mind and a cry rose in Aurora's throat.

"Father!"

An invisible slash carved a mark in the King's face and a short cry escaped. A second slash came to his abdomen. "Father! Oh Father!" Aura continued to scream. The large cold voice echoed, "Watch Aura, your father suffers upon your own account."

A blue flame burned at the bottom of her father's robe. Slowly, it climbed up the fabric, burning through it. However, the King remained calm. "I love you Aura," he said, a single tear rolling down his cheek. The fire rose, engulfing his body and eventually, an inhuman scream filled the nightmare.

All Aura could do is scream to her father through convulsing tears.