Chapter 15

Legolas had sat next to Aragorn for a while. Silence had kept them for some time for they thought, thought of the journey from which they may never return. Actually, Aragorn had foreseen it, the pain, the tears, and the loss that would accompany the dangerous journey. A vision had come to him in the nights before he left his wife's side. Arwen had seen them as well and had been heartbroken to see her husband leave. "Someone will die," she said, "let it not be you";

He had answered in return, "Let the prophecy be false."

Aragorn had confided in Legolas, and they both worried of whose fate would be in peril.

"You have too much left to do Aragorn, the fates would not take you away," Legolas began, " And I doubt highly that they would pull either Gimli or Eomyr from the earth. It is not their time."

The crackling fire reminded them of their surroundings, and they became aware of the parcel within their care.

"No…" Legolas whispered.

"It cannot be," Aragorn continued his thought.

"The prophecy must be false." Legolas said.

"Perhaps I perceived wrong," was what Aragorn concluded, not wanting to believe that his beloved goddaughter would pass on before he. She was an angel, immortal as far as he could see, too perfect to be destroyed.

Silence enveloped them again, only to be broken with Legolas' shy words.

"She is tormented. Not easily seen, but I feel it."

"Aura seems to lie heavily on your mind." Aragorn replied, now looking over at the slight frame lying next to the fire.

"I suppose that it cannot be helped," he came to his revelation, "My being wishes to protect her of things unknown. She does not wish it, but it is there."

"Legolas, the tale has only begun, the fates will tell what part has yet to be played." Aragorn told him, "We need to rest now Tomorrow will be trying."

Without answer, Legolas took his place by the fire and lay to sleep as elves do, with their eyes open to the world

The camp soon became dark, all the members of its company fast asleep. Legolas, though in dream, continued to observe his surroundings. Aura was beside him, lying quietly, her brow furrowed in a slight worried frown.

"How can she possibly human," Legolas thought, "She is so perfect."

He wished that she would open her eyes, just a little, so he could see her soul, he beautiful soul that he could not understand but that he knew was strong and pure.

Her brow creased slightly more and a gasp escaped her lips. Legolas held back from reading Aura's mind, he did not want to violate the little trust that she held for him, but still he worried. She began to toss and turn, murmuring one word that he could not comprehend. The turning began more violent until he finally heard her

"Father!" she yelled suddenly, he voice frightened her features frozen in an expression that was horrified.

Legolas could no longer contain himself. He sat up and leaned over her.

"Aura," he whispered gently. When she did not awake, he shook her softly as he could and whispered more forcefully as she continued to cry out in despair.

"Aura!" he said, and magically she awoke. Her eyelids opened in surprise, looking at the concerned face over her, and a solitaire crystal tear rolled down her cheek in relief. Not knowing how, he found her in his arms.

"Thank you, thank you." She repeated in between sobs.

He pulled back slightly where he could see her dark blue eyes with specks of gold near the iris.

"It was only a dream," he told her.

"No," Aura shook her head as she lay back down; "it was a nightmare."

Legolas lay back down as well, "A dream all the same," he told her.

Aura stopped him with a sorrowful glint in her eyes.

"My father…" she began but caught herself.

"I thought you an orphan," Legolas interrupted.

Caught in her lie, all she could say was a half-truth, " I had a father once," another tear dropped.

Legolas said nothing but looked at her, wishing to take away all the pain.

"Perhaps we should sleep." Legolas suggested.

Aura agreed to do so, but only within the safety of Legolas' arms. Her back to him, her body against his, she fell into a harmonious sleep. He too, now felt safe, but could not readily fall asleep. He was too fixated on the look of the slight smile on her face and the feel of her slight frame in his arms. He felt as if his touch defiled her perfection. He felt not worthy to be in this goddess' presence, much less to hold her. Finally, Legolas fell into a blissful sleep.

Aragorn was the first to awake, early that morning, and start the fire. It was only later that he noticed Legolas and Aura. They looked at peace together, perfectly matched. Aura's godfather was about to turn away when he noticed it, the elf's eyes. He remembered when he first noticed Arwen sleep with her eyes closed, so vulnerable. He remembered her telling him the next morning that "An elf is always on guard, they learn that anything may happen to them as they sleep. That is why they always sleep with their eyes open. When an elf can ignore his own nature and be trustful enough to close his portals of vision, and be so vulnerable to everything around him, you that the elf has found true comfort, true love."

As if Legolas could sense Aragorn's gaze upon him, he began to stir; opening one eye to the light, then the next. Slowly, not to wake Aura, he laid her unto the ground and joined his friend.

"You looked… comfortable," was Aragorn's morning greeting, both happy for his elf friend but holding a protectiveness over his goddaughter.

"Last night she began to have a nightmare, of her father, she said," Legolas explained to ease Aragorn's curiosity, but this only aroused it more. Aura's dreams had always seemed a little prophetic. One who would upset her was not good will.

They had stood, facing each other in an unnaturally awkward silence for sometime when it was broken.

"There are eyes upon us," Legolas said suddenly and Aragorn felt it too.

"We shall not linger," the leader said. He rushed to Eomyr, then Gimli. Soon they had packed the camp. Aura had awoken and cared for the horses. In less than ten minutes, they had left.

Horses are amazing creatures. They feel the Karma in the air; they can sense danger hours before elves, as they had that morrow. They were jittery, nervous, they were not running, they were running away. When Aura finally looked over her shoulder when they had passed the Gap of Rohan, she saw why. A band of Orcs on their wolves had pursued them since they had departed from the Forrest of Fangorn.

"Orcs!" she yelled.

It was Aragorn's turn to now look over his shoulder and see their pursuers.

"We cannot run from them!" she yelled to Aragorn

"Indeed we cannot!" he yelled back with a playful glint in his eye that signified the battle to come.

Aura's stomach churned, but the same excited glint appeared in her eyes as in Aragorn's. She was the first to stop her horse. She swiftly removed her sword from its sheath, her horse rearing.

"Their deaths will be quick," she muttered, a new being taking her over. She charged towards the oncoming horde and her blue eyes blazed with fire. The four mates only stalled for a mere moment in amazement at the maiden's boldness and soon followed suit. The clash of swords thundered loudly and echoes of the battle resonated, calling others to join. However, Aura turned a deaf ear to the metal and the screams of their opponents tormenting wounds. If she were to begin to think of them as living, she would lose her mind of battle, and he life as well. Aglar became too nervous in the fight, and finding her horse too precious to lose, Aura jumped down into the clash, sending him off to safety. Truly, she preferred this method as she had much more control; her feet dancing gracefully upon the sandy desert ground, her head bobbing under blades directed to her throat, her body twisting beyond reach of jagged iron, her hand slashing down all opponents with the sword in palm. However, her heart was what kept her from safety. The quick glances in Legolas' direction slowed her reaction time.

"He is an elf, a warrior, he is faring well," she told herself, trying to concentrate on her own fight.

Orcs are strong, valiant fighters; they are of pure muscle and very brave, as they do not care whether they live or die by the sword as long as it is by the sword. However, they are only half as swift as any human and half as witted. Their bodies fell quickly and their black blood spilled thickly into pools of death. A glance was thrown again into Legolas' direction, he too had abandoned his horse, and remarkably his bow and arrow, taking up his white knives. His poise had never left, but only became deadly. His eyes had squinted into a deadly glare and all those who fell under those eyes did not live long enough to register it.

But this time, Aura kept her attention upon him too long, giving the orcs surrounding her the upper hand. She was quick enough to dodge the blade, but not the handle that had veered in her direction. Still moving quickly, Aura was now gasping for air from the blow to her stomach. While being slumped over slightly, one of the dark beings kicked her down to the ground, rolling on her back only in time to see three orcs pouncing upon her. She grabbed a fallen opponent's sword and crossed it with her own. As the orcs fell upon her and she pulled her swords apart, she could feel the slow tearing of orc flesh and trickling of dark blood upon her. A grunt escaped her lips as Aura pushed the corpses off her. Quickly, she arose, looking around her constantly, not letting herself be caught off guard once again. However, she could not have prevented the next attack.