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Journey Of A Butterfly	By : Mel99Moe Category: -Fourth Age to Modern times and beyond > Het - Male/Female Views: 5714 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or places of Lord of the Rings/Tolkien. No money is being made. This is for personal enjoyment only.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Chapter 18 - Dusty Rafters

Feredir left the Captain’s office and headed for the center of town. On the outside, he was calm. On the inside, he was fuming. He was one of the best border guards in Ithilien, reduced to a warden of the city. To make matters worse, he was assigned to a female ward. There was no challenge in guarding a female prisoner. She would surely be crying most of the time anyways. This whole thing looked bad on his record.

Not wanting to think about his problems anymore, Feredir decided to head off to his favorite haunt, The Hallowed Leg. This was a seedy tavern on the outskirts of the city, a place where he could shred his guardsman personification and just blend in with the locals. He considered this his last night of freedom. Tomorrow began his tortured life as a warden. If there was one thing keeping him sane, it was the fact that this would not last forever. He would take his punishment for disobeying orders and soon be back with his company.

As Feredir entered the bar, he could feel the tension right away. This was one of those nights where he would end up in a fight or end up in bed with some lucky girl. He hoped for the latter, but one could never tell in a place like this. Right away, he joined some of his fellow border men for a few mugs of bitter ale. He took their teasing and mildly threatened to cut off those parts that made them elves, all in good fun of course. The musicians struck up a lively tune and, feeling no worse for wear, the young elf grabbed a pretty young thing standing by the bar. She protested but he paid her no mind. As soon as he began swinging her around the dance floor, holding her close against his strapping body, she stopped complaining. The music stopped and he captured her with his sultry eyes. No woman, human or elf, had found that she could resist his stare. This was a unique anomaly and it made him very different from other ellon. His eyes looked as if two of the brightest stars had fallen from the heavens. They were silver with just a hint of blue, almost grey, mixed in. No one had ever seen eyes like his before. His enemies all warned each other not to become caught in his gaze or they would be paralyzed and death would be swift. Others of his own kind found that they could not look him in the eyes for long, saying that there was something mystical or magical and feared what would happen if they looked too long. Women could not resist his charms once his glare captured them. Once Feredir set his sights, she would do anything just to keep his silvery depths focused upon her.

He was accomplishing this now as he drew the attention of the beautiful maiden in his arms. She found she could not turn away from him. Her voice had left her moments ago and she could no longer protest his advances. Unfortunately, there had been a very good reason for her objections, which Feredir realized when he leaned in to kiss the chosen beauty. The sound of someone clearing his throat broke the spell and the girl gasped as she looked over Feredir’s shoulder. The dark-haired ellon closed his eyes and prepared for what he would find standing behind him. It was not the first time and surely would not be the last that he would find himself on the opposite end of a huge hairy fist lunging at him. At least, that was what he expected to happen within the next few moments. He released the girl, who backed away from the scene. Then he slowly turned to meet his attacker. His elvish ears identified the sound of muscles tightening and knuckles cracking. Before he could come around to face the giant of a man standing behind him, he felt the air move around him and ducked just moments before said fist made contact with his handsome face. He jumped back out of reach and finally saw just who it was that wanted to beat him to a pulp. A very large, broad shouldered, big muscled Gondorian stood there. His eyes were wild and seemed to shoot daggers at Feredir. The young elf put on his best smile.

“Here now, I did not know she was taken. Let me buy you a mug and we will forget this happened. No harm done, eh?” he said charmingly.

The man was not buying any of it. In fact, he bared his teeth in a snarl just before hurtling himself at his much smaller opponent. He forgot to take into account the stealth-like reflexes of a wood elf engaged in a fight. Feredir leapt out of the way and the man crashed into a nearby table. Anyone near the fight quickly got out of the way. The giant regained his stance and came around to look at Feredir once more, who was still standing in the same spot as before. Again, the Gondorian charged at the elf. Feredir smiled slightly and whispered to himself. “Here we go then.”

The thing about enormous oafs like this one was that they always showed you their next move. Really, the Gondorian was no challenge for the young handsome elf. Feredir was actually enjoying himself. It had been a long while since he had gotten into a bar fight. This was just the thing he needed to get his mind off his troubles. He jumped and ducked with the greatest of ease, further frustrating his opponent. After a while, Feredir was becoming bored with the whole thing. He looked around and found his target, a table with a group of men playing cards. Perfect, he thought to himself. The elf led the giant in that direction. The man was angered to the point he was not thinking, if he was ever thinking at all. Now all he needed was to throw a little grease on the fire.

“It’s a good thing you came along when you did mate. Had I gotten her away from the dance floor--.” He stopped mid-sentence and gave the man a ridiculous wink. This sent the giant charging at him like a bull. Feredir stood still, not moving a muscle until the very last moment. The Gondorian went crashing into the table behind Feredir, sending cards and money flying everywhere. This was just the diversion Feredir needed to take the attention off him. The table full of men dusted off the splinters from the smashed table and glared at the giant. The bar became deathly quiet. Then a chorus of knuckle cracking broke the silence. The leader of the card-playing group turned his eyes to slits.

“I was winning that hand,” he growled. With that said, the bar exploded into a wild ruckus of flying fists and falling bodies. As if a wave was created by a disturbance on a calm lake, the fighting spread from one table to the next until every man in the place was involved.

Feredir looked around, satisfied with his accomplishment and casually strolled to the bar, dodging the occasional flying mug on the way. He picked up a stool that had been knocked over and had a seat. The bar maid, a black-haired, olive skinned woman, came over to where he sat. The blouse she wore looked two sizes too small, cinched at her midriff and the tops of her bosom pushed up and almost spilling out. She had a thin waist and ample hips, a curvaceous dark skinned beauty.

Feredir smiled charmingly and she gave him a curious look. “A glass of your finest wine, please,” he said sweetly.

The bar maid bent down to retrieve the bottle of wine, giving Feredir a full view of her cleavage. He knew exactly where she kept the best wine, which is why he ordered it in the first place. She stood back up only to find his silver eyes glued to her body. With a slender finger, she touched his chin, tilting his head up to meet his gaze. She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with this?” she said accusingly.

“All I did was engage in a dance with a beautiful maiden,” he replied, the corners of his mouth upturned in a wicked smile. “And how is my favorite wine wench this evening?”

“Making my fair share of tips until you came in and distracted my cliental,” she answered sarcastically. She glanced around the bar. “Well, my services will not be needed for a while.” She turned around and retrieved two wine glasses from the rack behind her. “Care to go somewhere a little quieter?” she said waving the glasses in the air.

Feredir bit his lower lip, picked up the bottle of wine and nodded, gesturing to a set of stairs that led to some rooms on the second level. Then his sights came back to her as he looked at her seductively. “After you, Feona?” She nodded and smiled wantonly. “I do hope you’ll reconsider the use of that glorious divan this time,” he added.

“We’ll see,” she answered as she came around the other side of the bar. The place was still in chaos and no one noticed when they slipped upstairs, Feredir following close behind and pinching her along the way.

* * *

A very sated Feona was leaning across the tall end of her burgundy divan, panting and out of breath. Feredir was kneeling behind her, resting his head on her back. Both of their long bodies glistened with sweat after a strenuous session of lovemaking. Feredir’s long black hair clung to his face as he tried to catch his breath. “Mmm,” he purred, his chest rumbling against her back. He pulled from her and sat on the luxurious seat.

Feona did the same, joining him on the divan, one of her legs draped across his. “I’m glad we tried that,” she panted, still out of breath. “I had no idea that would feel so amazing.”

Feredir laughed. “And you were worried about your good couch.” He watched as Feona got up and strolled across the bedroom to a table that held a pitcher of water. His eyes traveled across her sculptured rear, thin waist and long legs. Had it not been for her dark skin, she could almost pass for an elleth. Her black hair hung half way down her back, swaying back and forth as she moved. She poured two glasses of water and turned around, walking seductively back to Feredir. Her big full breasts jiggled as she came to him, brown erect nipples ready to be assaulted again. He found the v-shaped patch of curly black hair at her juncture to be most erotic, something only humans had. His own was dark like the hair on his head, but not thick or curly, more like fine fuzz. Feona loved to trace a finger along the thin trail that ran up the middle of his pelvis. She too found him to be quite mesmerizing when given the opportunity to explore his naked form.

She handed him the glass of water and watched as he swallowed it in just a few gulps. He sat the glass on a side table and spread his arms out across the back of the divan, looking up at her with intense silver eyes. Feona sipped and sat her glass down too. Then she sat on his lap, straddling his legs and facing him. She ran her hands along the length of his arms, down to his wrists and back up to his shoulders. Her slender fingers felt along his chest and abdomen, tracing every muscle as it rippled beneath his smooth skin. He was a wood elf there was no doubt. She thought about how quickly he could go from relaxed to rigid, from calmness and trust to deadly stealth with no warning what so ever. This thought excited her and her hips started to writhe against his thighs as her hands still explored his magnificently toned body. She allowed herself to be captured by his wanton stare. Oh, those eyes were like none she had ever scene. To have him looking at her like this made her body come alive. Then, as if he had read her mind, Feredir went from his relaxed position to grabbing her waist and lifting her off his legs. She felt weightless in his grasp. He brought her forward and lowered her onto his awaiting arousal. Feona wondered how he could make love more than once and never lose his unlimbering stamina. He was ready at a moment’s notice and would not leave her until she was completely depleted of any energy or use of muscles.

Feredir thrust up into her, holding her by the hips and pulling her down on him. He was very well endowed, as most elves seemed to be. Being a bar maid for the past ten years, Feona had her share of elvish lovers, but none were as raw and aggressive as Feredir. He was her first and only half-elf. The mixture of elf and human blood was what made him so alluring, and when he came by her tavern she made sure he was always well taken care of. Right now though, he was taking care of her.

Suddenly, he got up, taking her with him and remaining buried in her warmth. He carried her to the bed and they lay down. He hovered above her, his long hair surrounding them like a curtain of midnight sky. Feredir began moving inside her again. Feona’s legs came up and he bent them against her chest. Her fingers twisted in his soft waves, pulling him down for a kiss. His rhythm increased and soon he was pounding into her body. Feona moaned as her climax took her for a second time. Feredir pulled from her and came to rest at her side. His fingers never stopped their ministrations and continued to circle her dark course curls, moist with her essence. He barely gave her a moment to catch her breath and he was up and standing at the edge of the bed. “When did he move?” she thought silently, never even feeling the bed jostle or a rustle of the sheets. Still panting, she raised her head and found him standing there, fully erect, sweat beading on his chest, muscles moving beneath his firm skin as he breathed rapidly. His eyes pierced her all the way to her soul.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled as his lips spread into a vicious smile. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Then, taking her by the hips, he raised her lower body off the bed. Only her shoulders and head remained on the mattress. He plunged deep, making her gasp at the intrusion of his wide girth. He moved deliberately in and out, pulling out slowly and thrusting hard as he pushed back into her depths. Somehow, Feona managed to bring herself up on her elbows. To be able to see his hardened length disappear into her writhing body made her even more excited, but to watch his face as he found his pleasure was pure bliss. Feredir could be warm and loving, but she liked him best when he was this sexual beast. He had given her satisfaction first, holding off until he was sure she was satiated. Then he would take his pleasure after suppressing himself time and time again.

“Come for me,” she demanded, watching his eyes close and his head throw back. His lips curled exposing shining white teeth.

The bed was moving, making the loose floorboards squeak loudly. Neither one knew that the fighting downstairs had ended a while ago, and now the patrons’ attention was focused on the rafters of the tavern ceiling. Men smiled, elbowing each other. Women sighed, wishing they were up there. And one slightly grumpy dwarf shook his head as dust and dirt fell from the rafters, landing in his tall mug of dark ale. “Elves!” he muttered, and drank from his glass anyway.

Feona watched this glorious creature as his climax peaked. He opened his mouth and released an animalistic yell as he spilled into her body. She chanted some foreign exclamation as she spoke in her native tongue of the far South. The rush of blood traveling through her body made her skin tingle. Every nerve was alive as Feredir touched her and she jumped and twisted involuntarily. The elf laughed to himself knowing he did what he set out to accomplish. He came to rest at her side, depleted of all his energy, rare for this half-elf. He gathered her into his arms, contouring himself against her back. Feona moaned and held his arm wrapped around her waist. “You are so amazing, Feredir.”

He moaned and smiled against her neck. “And you are absolutely beautiful, my wine wench.”

Feona laughed and turned in his arms to face him. She looked into his eyes, but noticed he would not look directly at her own. The time was past now. He had claimed his prize. There was no need for seduction anymore. She ran her hand through his hair. “You know if you ever decide you want to settle . . .” She regretted the words the moment they left her lips.

Feredir felt her embarrassment and kissed her lips. It was enough to dismiss the moment. He watched her as she drifted off into a deep gratifying sleep. Then he got up from her bed and went to a small window across the room. He peered out through the sheer curtains, looking out across Ithilien. Here was someone who would take him as he was, rough and unpredictable. Yet, he knew he could never love her, not fully and unconditionally. Feona was beautiful and kind. She was able to keep up with his hungry desire and would give him as much pleasure as she received, every night probably. Still, that would not be enough. There was one element missing, one he had never felt before . . . love. He was not sure he would ever find it, or even if he wanted to. Being a warrior was his top priority right now. It was enough. Love was overrated anyway.

He scolded himself for thinking such thoughts. No, he was fine just the way he was and as soon as he got back to the border, he would be even better. All he had to do was get past these next few months as prison warden, and then he could get back to his normal life. He smiled to himself, satisfied with his answer, but deep down he knew there was something still missing, very deep though it was.
- 17
- 18
- 19
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Journey Of A Butterfly