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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
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Chapter 21 - Tired and Fed Up

A loud obnoxious knock on the barracks door nearly made Terrwyn jump out of her skin. “Come in,” she yelled.

The door squeaked as it opened. “Let’s go, Lag. You have a full day’s work ahead of you,” Feredir replied. The sun had barely risen and already he seemed to be in a foul mood. She expected no less.

“I’ll be there in one moment,” she said from behind a privacy screen. Yesterday had been an exhausting day both physically and mentally as Master Curuven taught her many things about the different herbs. Her wrists hurt from all the berry crushing and she slept longer than she would have liked this morning. For first time she was not ready and waiting by the time Feredir showed to collect her. At least he was not making a big deal of it as he waited silently by the door.

Feredir watched from where he stood. She was not ready, unusual for her. It seemed work was finally catching up to her. Actually, she lasted longer than he thought she would. She was of strong will, for a human woman. She was not easily broken. He shamefully admitted to himself that he liked that. Even so, she was a prisoner and he would not let up on her.

Feredir looked at the privacy screen. Her white shirt and tan leggings hung over the top. He heard the sound of rustling clothes dragging across bare skin. Then a white nightgown landed next to her clothes. Water splashed in a basin and Feredir knew she was naked behind the screen. He thought about the feel of her body beneath him the other day and now wondered what it looked like unclothed. She may be annoying and a pest, but he was still a male with a voracious appetite for the female form, no matter whose form it was. His ears trained on the sounds behind the screen, a cloth dipping into water and then traveling along smooth soft skin before dipping in the basin again. The smell of rose water drifted in the air and made him envision her long red hair draped across her shoulders. He could pretend he did not notice until all the Orcs were erased from Middle-earth, but the truth was, he was aware of her beauty right away and every time he laid eyes upon her. Most of the time, he wiped the thoughts from his mind. She was young for a human. He did not know of her past besides the charges brought against her. Maybe she belonged to another, the man he had seen her with the day she arrived. Maybe she was a virgin. Feredir would never steal something so precious away from any female, just to satisfy his own body’s cravings. He was not cruel in that way. The women he chose to bed understood ahead of time that he was not tamable. They shared an understanding that there were no strings attached. He came and went as he pleased. If he sensed that they could not agree to this, he did not pursue them. Terrwyn seemed the type that would latch onto him should he ever make any advances on her. He felt that she was searching for something, something he was sure he could not give her. Besides, there was one big hindrance that could not be looked around. She was an inmate and he was her charge.

Slowly, the white shirt and leggings slid down behind the screen. Feredir listened as the sound of rustling clothes brought him out of his reverie. He shook his head as if ridding himself of his recent thoughts. As long as she did not thank him for . . .

“I never got to thank you for collecting the berries,” she said in that sweet voice.

Feredir cringed. “I only did it so that I would not have to suffer another long day watching you stumble around in the woods.” There, that should keep her from thinking he did it out of the kindness of his heart. He had a reputation to uphold. Actually, he did it because he felt bad about the way he had treated her, always badgering her and trying to get a rise from her. He was not sure why she brought out his ornery side, but he enjoyed watching her get flustered.

Terrwyn stepped out from around the privacy screen. “Somehow I knew you would say something like that. I shall spare you any embarrassment and not mention it again, but I could not let it go without at least acknowledging it.” She picked up her pack that Master Curuven had given her, with some new tools used for crushing herbs, and headed for the door. As she passed Feredir, he could not help but notice how refreshing she smelled.

“You smell different today,” he said bluntly.

She smiled. “Thank you. Actually, I do not know where it came from. Last night when I looked in my chest, it was stocked with oils and delicate soaps, much better than that awful stuff they gave me before.” She stopped and turned to Feredir, who was just closing the barracks door. “I don’t suppose you know anything about it, do you?” she said accusingly.

“I can honestly say I know nothing about it,” he answered. “Come, let’s be going, Lag.”

Terrwyn only sighed and walked off with Feredir behind her.

* * *

Two more weeks passed and not much had changed, especially Feredir. He kept his distance from Terrwyn, only doing his duty. She did not harass him with questions or comments. Everything went on, life as usual for a warden and his ward. Master Curuven stopped sending her out to look for plants. Winter had set in and most of them were in hibernation now. She spent her days sterilizing rags, bandages, bottles and instruments. The Healer taught her one remedy at a time, showing her which ingredients to use, how to mix them and what to store it in. So far, she could make a concoction for burns and minor scraps. She also knew how to properly bandage a wound or splint a broken arm. It was not much, but it was a start and Terrwyn was enjoying it. She seemed to be a natural for this kind of work. So many people had helped her up to this point in her life. Now she felt like she could finally give back to society, even if just a little.

Terrwyn was just finishing putting away freshly sterilized tools, when Master Curuven called for her. She came out of the back room and found Feredir at his usual place, looking as bored as always. The Healer stood beside his workbench with a list of some sort. He smiled warmly the way he always did when he had something new for Terrwyn to do.

“I need you to make your way to the apothecary shop in the center of town. Hand the owner this list and tell her it is from me. You may wait while she fills the order.” Master Curuven turned to Feredir. “Feredir, show Terrwyn around the town for a bit while you wait. I am sure she would enjoy the time away for a while.”

Feredir got up from his chair, put down the book he was reading and nodded to the Master Healer. Then he looked at Terrwyn and tilted his head, gesturing for them to be on their way.

They made their way to the circle where the beautiful fountain stood in the center. As requested by the Healer, Feredir took her to the appropriate shop. While Terrwyn spoke to the owner, handing her the list, Feredir looked around at the different bottles and jars with their unusual contents inside. He observed them curiously, until he came to a jar that looked back at him. He jumped back, slightly startled.

“Eye of crow,” called the owner and Feredir looked away from the appalling thing. The shop owner was an old woman dressed in a long black dress. The only thing not covered by the black lace material was her hands and head. Her long grey hair hug over her shoulders and her wrinkled face studied the elf in her store. “It is used to help improve one’s eyesight, but I doubt you need any such thing.”

Feredir gave her a nervous smile and moved on to a safer shelf that housed simple leaves. He glanced around for Terrwyn and found her looking at an old yellowed map that hung on the wall. With his eagle vision, he could see that it was an old map of Ithilien, before the orcs demolished it during the war years. She did not seem to be the least bit worried about the eccentric old woman who was now approaching Feredir. She looked at him from head to toe, noticing his long black hair and sturdy build, then smiled showing a large gap between her front teeth. “Ah, a Peredhil,” she commented and touched his arm. “Gondorian blood too, a healthy combination.” The old woman glanced behind her where Terrwyn stood before turning back to the handsome elf. She met his silver eyes with her gaze and held him there a moment. Feredir felt a nervous niggling at the back of his mind, as if the old woman knew his thoughts, but she was searching deeper to a place that not even he liked to visit very often. “You hide it well,” she said, then picked up a small corked bottle with some kind of white powder inside. She turned it here and there, then without lifting her head, she peered up at Feredir. “I doubt you’d be needing this either, except maybe with the lady over there,” she said turning her eyes to slits and looking to the side towards Terrwyn.

Feredir looked at the old woman curiously. “And just what is that?” he said in his usual arrogant tone.

“Ground oliphant tusk. It is an aphrodisiac of sorts and can help two souls who have not met yet. I can see you have not truly met the lady over there. You have a job to do and will not let your feelings interfere.”

“Feelings?” he said with a slightly nervous laugh. “There is no such thing between us. She is in Ithilien to carry out her punishment. I am merely her warden, nothing more.”

“Very well. Even I cannot unlatch the door that you keep heavily guarded in the back of your mind. Give it some time and maybe you will come around . . . if you learn to give your gift freely.”

Feredir creased his brow. “My gift? Of what do you speak? I know of no gift.”

The old woman cackled. “Of course not.” Then, as if a curtain lifted, Feredir felt released of her hold. The store, which seemed dark when they first entered, seemed brighter now and the old woman looked normal. He could not explain it, but it was as if something drew him into some sort of spell and time stopped. He turned to Terrwyn but she seemed unaffected by any of it.

The old woman was now behind her long counter at the back of her store. Odd, he did not remember seeing her move over there. It was a strange place indeed and the young ellon felt out of sorts here. He turned away from the curious woman’s stare.

Now she made her way over to where Terrwyn stood admiring the map. Looking once more at the elf and finding him distracted by a jar of dehydrated toads, she spoke to the Rohirrim girl. “That is a map of Ithilien, the old city before it was destroyed.”

Terrwyn smiled politely. “Oh, did you live here then?”

“Aye my lady, I was born here. It was a dark day when the evil came. My family fled from the city just in time. Never thought I’d see it shine once more as it did back then. It’s the elves you know. They brought with them a magic that may never be seen again. I believe it is the last of their magic and they chose to use it here. These lands, though beautiful, are much different from the original layout.” Here the old woman pointed to a spot on the map with her crooked finger. “That there used to be a secret way out of the city.” She laughed, more of a cackle really. “Oh, the boy’s I took there just to show them this secret passage so I could get them alone.”

Terrwyn smiled as her cheeks blushed red. “Oh my, did you ever get caught?”

“Fortunately no, my dear. In fact, it was because of this secret way that my family escaped the night the orcs raided the city. Otherwise, we may not have survived, or had been turned into slaves.” Her voice turned cold as it trailed off.

Suddenly, Terrwyn thought of her brother Hathmund at the old woman’s mention of slaves. As her thoughts took her and she seemed lost in them, the medicine woman watched Terrwyn from the corner of her eye. After a moment of silence and observation, she spoke again. “I wonder if that old passageway still exists.”

Her voice made Terrwyn’s mind come back to the moment at hand. “I am sure it was destroyed along with most other things once the evil armies took over.”

“Perhaps,” the old woman said in a slow drawn out hiss. The word seemed to linger on the air and in Terrwyn’s ears.

“Terrwyn,” Feredir called from across the room. She turned to see him watching her and the spell was broken. “We must be going soon.”

She glanced once more at the old tattered map to an area deep within the gardens that the old woman pointed out. Then she turned to join Feredir where he stood by the front door.

“It will take a while to gather all of these ingredients. There’s no use waiting around here. Come back in an hour and it will be ready,” the old woman called from behind the counter once more.

Terrwyn smiled politely and nodded, but Feredir faced the door, ready to leave the shop. He looked a little befuddled, something she had never seen from him before. “Everything alright, Feredir?”

The sound of his name coming from her lips brought him back from his baffled thoughts. Had she ever called him by name before? He could not recall, but it warmed a layer of his tough skin. He shook it off quickly and regained his composure. “Come then, Lag. Let’s wait outside.” He turned once more to the old woman. She was smiling her toothy grin as if she knew more than she led on.

They exited the store and Feredir took Terrwyn to the fountain at the center of the circle. There was still water flowing, dripping into the pool below. “Won’t the water freeze?” she asked.

“Not this water. It is fed in from a hot spring. The dwarves built it with this in mind. The water is constantly warm and will not freeze, allowing the fountain to run no matter what the season. I must admit, I do admire the ingenuity of the dwarves,” he answered, while swishing his hand through the water.

Terrwyn observed the fountain again with its beautiful elves standing in a circle. “You know what I admire most about elvish design? It is always very flowing in nature. And the fact that there are no corners, everything is continuous and unending. No two pieces of architecture are the same.”

Feredir smiled. “It exemplifies our immortal lives, uninterrupted . . . a world without end.” As he spoke, Terrwyn could not help but notice a slight disappointment in his tone and she wondered about his half-elven background.

“Is it true you must make a choice one day, to live on with your kin or to die a mortal man?” she asked.

“As far as I am concerned, I am an elf and I would choose no other life,” he said harshly. It was obvious this was a subject he was not willing to discuss any further.

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to pry,” she said looking into the crystal clear water.

Feredir glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “What about you then? What was your life like . . . before Ithilien?”

Terrwyn shook her head. “I have almost always been on my own, with the exception of a few kind people along the way. It has been tough from time to time, but I always manage.”

“You seemed to be managing just fine with that older gentleman I saw you with the day you arrived,” he said trying to find out more about her past.

Terrwyn thought for a moment. “Oh, Rosloch . . . why yes, we were . . . together for a while in Gondor.”

“And now?”

“Now I am here and that’s all you need to know,” she said on the defensive. “And besides . . .” She went on, but Feredir was not paying attention. He looked across the way and saw some troops from his border guard battalion.

“Wait here, Lag. Do not move from this spot. I will return,” he interrupted and dashed off across the paved circle.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“It doesn’t concern you. Just stay right here by this fountain and do not move a muscle. And if someone tries to talk to you, politely tell them to leave you alone. Just act natural. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a minute. I can trust you alone for that long can’t I?”

A thought suddenly came to Terrwyn’s mind, but she smiled sweetly to Feredir. “I will be a good little prisoner and wait right here. Don’t want to be on the wrong end of one of your arrows,” she added. Feredir looked at her curiously for a moment, wondering why she was behaving strangely, then he walked off to meet with this fellow guardsmen.

“How rude,” Terrwyn said to herself, as she watched him walk swiftly towards a group of elvish soldiers, all dressed in black with silver chest plates and shoulder pads. They carried their helm in their hands and had quivers strapped to their backs. Archers, she thought to herself. These must be his men. She observed the way he smiled warmly at them and grasped arms or shoulders with some, probably his close companions. They must have seen much in the way of war or attacks. She could tell that they were a very close-knit group.

She thought about his last words to her just then, always calling her by this degrading name. She recalled the time he called out her name the day she was picking berries. It sounded so lovely coming from his full lips. There was no denying that he was very handsome with his long black hair and well-built body. And his eyes . . . she could spend a lifetime lost in their silver stare. How easy it would be to fall for an elf like him, until he opened his mouth. Feredir was always hard on her, always calling her ‘Lag’ or putting her down. She understood their reason for having to see each other. He was assigned to her and she could not get away from him. Had it been any other situation, she could just leave and never have to listen to him again, but there was no avoiding it. Still, could he not treat her with the slightest bit of respect? Yes, the charges held against her were very serious and so she was a prisoner, but did he always have to be such an Orc? Was it too much to ask that Feredir start calling her by her name?

And what of the help from the elves? She had not heard a thing from Captain Glandur since he told her they would fight for her freedom. So far, she had followed their rules, worked her tired fingers to the bone, and was still able to learn a thing or two about the art of healing. Winter was set in and it would not be long before spring arrived. As soon as the weather was more cooperative, she would go to Rohan to face her real punishment. It seemed that nothing was taking place in Ithilien. The elves were very laid back and seemed unconcerned.

She remembered something Alric told her once long ago. He said that if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself. She started thinking that he was right about that. The elves had been very fair and polite since she arrived, but they had not been much help, at least they had not informed her of any information they might have gathered.

As Terrwyn sat on a bench by the fountain, listening to the dripping water and contemplating her situation, two Ithilien women slowly passed behind her. Something they said made her listen intently.

“I heard they caught a group of Easterlings in the northern parts. They tried to cut across the forests and were stopped,” said a woman with brown hair.

“It was not Easterlings. No, that’s not why it was so unusual. It was them there Southrons. Not since the war have there been any sightings of them in Gondor. They tend to stay out of this area. The fact that they are here now tells me that their number are growing. I think there will be more attacks on our borders,” said the other woman, slightly older than the first with streaks of grey mixed in with black and creases around her eyes and mouth.

“You know how they increase their numbers don’t you?” said the first woman.

The second woman nodded slowly. “Aye, tis a dirty business they do, stealing young ones right out from under their parents noses in the middle of the night. They brainwash them and turn them into slaves or recruit the older ones into their armies.” Her voice was low and the tone sent a shiver down Terrwyn’s spine. She knew all about it. This was how she lost her brother.

The women walked on, but Terrwyn's thoughts turned to Hathmund. She looked around at her surroundings. Suddenly anger grew up from the pit of her stomach until it surrounded her heart. Here she was, incarcerated and well taken care of with no idea if her brother was still alive. The elvish captain had not even mentioned her brother after she told him her story. They might want to help her, but they would not help find her brother. That was none of their concern. Alric was right. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

She glanced over her shoulder to Feredir. There he was laughing it up with the other elves. She did not care how gorgeous he was, he was a pain, unfair towards her and always demeaning her. If she heard him call her that name one more time, she was going to hit him. He had pushed her to her limits, always threatening to stick her with an arrow. Terrwyn looked around again; the crowds were growing as the day went on. She was beginning to lose sight of Feredir as more people walked by. She thought of the hidden passageway that the old woman told her about. Could she do it? Could she build up the courage to run away? She may not be an elf or have their stealth, but she had all the smarts of the Rohirrim. No one would look twice towards her, still hidden by her winter cloak.

Laughter rose above the crowd. She’d know that voice anywhere. Feredir was probably laughing at her expense, telling his friends how easy it is to make her angry. “Well, not anymore,” she said to herself. “Let him see if he can shoot something that is not there.”

Terrwyn took one more look in the elf’s direction. She laughed to herself. He actually thought she would do as he said and stay put by the fountain. Well, forget him and forget his stupid name-calling. She had enough of it, enough of everything. It was time to start worrying about herself again. Her original plans did not work out. Now she would take things into her own hands. With that, Terrwyn slipped away into the crowd, making her way to the gardens.

* * *

Feredir was laughing about something his men told him that happened out on the borders involving another one of their comrades. He looked up and over to the fountain, noticing how crowded the circle was becoming at this late hour of the morning. He stretched his neck as he tried to see through the people. He would catch a glimpse of the bench where he left Terrwyn and realized he had not checked on her in a while. Of course, she would still be there, he thought to himself. Surrounded by guards, surely she wouldn’t try anything . . . stupid.

“What are you looking for, Feredir?” asked one of his friends.

“Oh nothing, just thought I saw someone,” he answered. It seemed he was slightly uneasy, as he looked left and right, pushing people out of the way. He started walking in the direction of the fountain without saying a word to his friends.

“Feredir, where are you going?” one of them asked.

“I . . . I need to check on something. I’ll be right back,” he yelled back, still heading for the fountain. By the time he reached it, the bench was empty and there was no sign of Terrwyn. He leapt up onto the bench and then onto the edge of the fountain, looking all around the area. She would not be easy to miss with that long red hair. Unfortunately, she was nowhere in sight.

“Terrwyn!” he called out, but no one stopped to look at him. He called for her again, but still nothing. Now Feredir was in a full panic. He had lost her. He never thought she would actually run away. He was watching her, wasn’t he? Well, maybe he was not always looking at her, and maybe he got a little involved with hearing stories from his friends about the border. He missed his border patrol and wanted nothing more than to get back there.

He hesitated and thought about his options. What he should have done was to go straight to the captain and report his predicament. Those were the rules. He should follow the rules since that was why he was here in the first place. However, the other half of his conscience, the unreasonable side was telling him to go off on his own and find her, drag her back by that long red hair and never let her forget this. No one had ever escaped from Feredir, not on his watch, and no one, especially this . . . this Rohirric woman was going to break that record.

“Now, where did you go, Lag?” he said to himself as he looked over the crowded area. She would not have ducked into a store. That was too obvious. She could have followed the crowd to the front gate, hitched a ride on a delivery cart and secretly pass through, but that was risky, even for her. No, she’s not gotten far, but which way? Then a thought came to him. He remembered looking at her in the apothecary shop. She was looking at something, the old yellowed map. Yes, that’s it, an old map of Ithilien. He remembered seeing another such map hanging in the window of some store here on the circle. Feredir took off in the direction of that shop.

When he got there, the map was still hanging in the window as a tribute to the old city. Quickly, his eyes scanned over it, starting at the ancient building in the center of the city. That place had long since been destroyed, but now it was the circle in which he stood now. The only place that was remotely the same was the gardens. Quickly, he looked them over and noticed a doorway marked along one of the outer areas. It looked like it led to a tunnel or perhaps an old sewer. Something told him this was where she went. If this old passageway was still there, she could slip out of the city unnoticed and come out on the eastern side of the forest, which ran along the river. He had to find her, and quick or it would be his hide on the line. “I’ve got you now, Lag,” he said to himself and dashed off towards the gardens at the hurried run.
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Journey Of A Butterfly