Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

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
- 25
- 26
- 27
Chapter 26 - The Healer’s Wife

Terrwyn’s whole body ached. Her arms were practically numb from the jolting shock every time she brought her ax down onto a log. The vertebra in her spine felt as though they were about to crack and shatter like a fine porcelain vase. Sweat stung her eyes. Blisters formed on her hands, even with the gloves Feredir gave her. She wanted nothing more than to lie down on the forest floor and cry herself into a never-ending slumber. Then she would glance over to Feredir, sitting nonchalantly in his tree, which seemed more like a throne to her now. That smug son of a bitch would get nothing from her. She just knew that was what he was waiting for. He probably even came up with a set time for how long it would take her to cave under the pressure. She would not give him the satisfaction.

Terrwyn finished another log and was carrying it to the cart when her legs just gave out and buckled beneath her. She dropped to the ground, her arms doing nothing to break her fall, but her face took the brunt of it.

“Terrwyn!” she heard from above. In a split second, Feredir was by her side. She expected sympathy but got none. “What are you thinking, woman? I told you two hours ago to take a break, but you will not listen to me will you?”

“You will only tease and harass me,” she whispered with a raspy voice. “You’ll call me Lag again and I cannot bear to hear it.” She was on the verge of tears.

Feredir knelt next to her, pushing the sweaty hair from her face. He had been rather hard on her. Why did he treat her like this? A part of him cringed every time he did so, though he squashed those thoughts every time they rose. Now he could see how it affected her. She would work herself to death before she would let him see her anguish. “Here,” he said, handing the water skin she had dropped.

Her face flushed to a shade of pale white even too fair for an elf. She did not look good and Feredir worried for her. She sat up and took the skin. “I guess I have no choice but to stop now. Go on then. Get your patronizing out of the way so that I may be done waiting for it,” she retorted.

“I guess I deserve that don’t I,” he admitted. He looked to the ground and sighed heavily. “Look, I apologize for my comments and I promise not to call you that name again. I did not realize how it affected you. It is just a common term the guards use for their wards, another word for prisoner.”

“Well, it feels more like a blow to the stomach every time I hear it,” she growled. Then she realized too, that she needed to be more kind. She could tell this was not easy for him to admit. With a kinder voice, she spoke. “I accept your apology. Thank you.”

Feredir stood up and looked at the cart. She had worked all day and had only managed to chop up two small logs. He looked to his left, picked up the ax and headed to the woods. Terrwyn watched him from where she sat. In all actuality, she didn’t have the strength to stand, but she could not let this go unnoticed. “Feredir, what are you doing? This is my burden to bear, not yours. Just give me a moment and I’ll get back to work.”

He stopped, looked at the cart again and then to Terrwyn. With a smile and kindness in his eyes, he spoke. “You have accomplished a lot for the day, much more than I thought possible for a human, and a woman at that. The Captain may not approve, but I think you have served your punishment well enough. I’ll finish up so that we can get back to town.” He nodded his approval and went to the woods.

She could not stand up for herself in this weak state. Actually, it was a welcomed break and she was glad for it. An ax striking wood sounded and she looked up to find Feredir working on a log. He had removed his shirt. She watched as the muscles in his arms flexed and moved with every strike. The skin of his smooth chest glistened in the filtered light beneath the trees. He had tied his long hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of his face as he worked. She could see the prominent features of his face, his stern jaw, perfectly pointed ears, dark brows set above mesmerizing silver eyes. And his lips so full and kissable. Terrwyn’s memory revisited their run-in in the woods. She had felt those lips upon hers, felt his weight as he covered her, felt his desire hardening against her thigh.

Terrwyn was lost in her thoughts and did not notice how silent it became. “Feeling better now?” he asked, forcing her to shake her thoughts. There he stood like a god. Oh, but he was all elf in this form. She licked her lips, as her eyes seemed to focus on his naked chest.

“Oh . . . yes. I believe I am,” she answered, a slight smile on her face. Feredir sat on a log close to where she sat on the ground and she glanced over to him. “You’ll catch your death, sweating and exposed to the elements like that. There is a chill in the air.”

Feredir laughed. “Elves do not feel the cold as humans do. Besides, the sun has warmed the day nicely.” He tilted his head up and breathed deep. “I think it will be an early spring this year.”

Terrwyn sighed and whispered under her breath. “I hope not.”

Feredir felt her reserve. He knew what the spring meant for her. “They will come for you then, won’t they? Your kinsmen?” he asked.

“Yes, at least that is what I’ve been told. Travel is too difficult during the winter months.”

Feredir sat silent for a while. He picked up a stick and drew shapes in a sandy spot on the forest floor. Terrwyn watched. “What is that?”

“That is a beech tree, the symbol of my home,” he said quietly.

Terrwyn thought he seemed so lonely hearing him speak of home. She knew he was a wood elf of Mirkwood. In Rohan, they told many stories about the Rhovanion lands. It was said to be very dark and evil, or at least it was at one time. If the spiders did not strike, the wild elves surely would, and they would not miss. Feredir seemed nothing like the vision she had of the wood elves. Now she wondered why he left his home. “What brought you to Ithilien, if you don’t mind my asking?” She suddenly felt very comfortable sitting next to him. He had an air about him that exuded protection, as if she could rest easily as long as he was close.

“I lived my whole life in Mirkwood. I battled many enemies and gave the army all of my time and talent. When I learned that our Prince was establishing a new colony to rebuild Ithilien, I knew it was where I was needed most,” he said proudly. “It is also a part of Gondor, the other half of my heritage. I was always curious about my human kin and I knew moving to Ithilien would put me closer to my ancestors.”

Terrwyn glanced at his chest again, noticing raised white scars. “Are those from the battles you speak of?”

Feredir nodded. “Spiders, orcs, goblins . . .,”he paused and laughed. “Ex-lovers.”

Terrwyn raised an eyebrow, but Feredir cut her off before she could ask. “None of your business,” he said smiling. His eyes turned up to the sky. “We best be getting back soon, before the sun gets much lower and the night air settles in.”

Feredir stood up and offered Terrwyn his hand. He helped her to her feet, on which she was still a little wobbly. As he steadied her, he felt the heat from her hand. She flinched and he turned her palms upward. There were blisters on her hands, proof of how hard she had worked. He furrowed his brow as he observed them. “A woman’s hands should never look like this. I wish you would have told me sooner.”

Terrwyn was taken aback by his sudden changes. She could see that he did not like seeing any kind of injury to a female. “Had I not fallen, I still would not have told you.”

He took her chin in his fingers and forced her to look at him. “Do you distrust me so much that you would torture yourself in this manner?”

Terrwyn tried not to look at his eyes. She looked at his lips, but that was not much better. Every part of him made her body spark. Not looking at him at all was the only solution, but he held her in place. She could not avoid him and rested her green eyes upon him. “It is not distrust, but rather satisfaction. The satisfaction in knowing I did what I was told, that I did not cry and whine, did not falter. You do not fool me Feredir. I know what you think of women in your own mind. We are easily seduced. We always get our way. We are a burden. I am a burden. You would not be here if it weren’t for me. I saw the look you gave me in the Masters healing house. You do not want this. This is a part of your punishment too. You wish to be rid of me so that you can get back to the borders with your friends and warriors. Being a prison warden is far beneath you, beneath your skills as a warrior." She reached up and removed his fingers. Looking to the ground, she frowned. “No, you do not want this.”

The forest seemed unusually quiet at that moment, as if all the creatures themselves were waiting for a reply. When Feredir did not speak right away, Terrwyn knew her answer. Just when she had accepted the fact, the elf spoke. “I did not want it before, but now . . .” He left it at that.

Terrwyn’s heart beat a little faster as he almost admitted something. Did he want to be here after all? Not wanting to sound desperate for an explanation, she said nothing and let the conversation end there. She took a step and fumbled, her body still battered from the days hard work. Feredir reached out and took her arm. “Come on, Naru. Let’s get you home.”

Another name, she thought to herself. Why did he always have to insult her? “I thought you were done with the name calling. What is it this time, lazy, stubborn?”

“Relax, it is not an insult. Naru simply means red, like the color of your hair. I meant no harm in it. I’ll never say it again if that’s what--.”

Terrwyn interrupted him before he said too much. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything. I . . . I like that.”

She smiled up at him and Feredir felt his heart jump slightly. Those eyes, like new spring on a crisp morning would burn into his memory now. How could he ever have been so cruel towards her? She was not just a prisoner. She was a beautiful woman. She was a fiery spirit. His soul ached to see her in pain. Without another thought, he reached down and swooped her up into his arms.

Terrwyn gasped as she was suddenly lifted into the air. “Feredir, what are you doing?” she said nervously as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“You are hurt. I am carrying you to the cart. It’s getting late and we must be on our way. I cannot wait for you to hobble over on your own,” he responded. He was still sweaty and she couldn’t help but notice how the billowy cotton of her sleeve clung to his skin. He held her as if she was weightless in his arms. His masculine scent wafted up to her senses. She could not deny the fact that this was secretly enjoyable.

Feredir placed her easily onto the wagon seat. His eyes fixed on her, capturing her as they did in Master Curuven’s office. She wondered if he knew he was doing this. Of course he knew, she thought. He is an elf. It is part of his elf magic.

“Let me fetch your tools and secure the load, then we’ll be on our way,” he informed her.

Terrwyn merely nodded and watched him walk away. He picked up his discarded shirt and put it back on. As he buttoned it up, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Now she knew he was putting on a show for her. She could have been mad, accused him of falsely seducing her, but she could not. If Feredir wanted to act the part of rescuer, she would gladly be his damsel in distress, at least for this once. After all, the she felt in her arms and back was very real. Her muscles felt as if they had liquefied. All she wanted to do was collapse onto her barracks cot and sleep for a week.

* * *

They arrived back at the stable and Master Curuven was waiting for them. There he stood, tall and very slim in his long white robes. Terrwyn thought he looked like royalty with his hair braided at the sides. The wind blew the front of his robe open, exposing grey leggings and boots a few shades darker. His face was long and slender just like everything else about him. His platinum hair was as straight as a bowstring and hung to his waist. Curuven was the symbol of ancient elven knowledge. He must have been thousands upon thousands of years old. Terrwyn suddenly realized just how privileged she was to be able to learn anything from him. Her first lesson was kindness and forgiveness, for that was what he gave her even after trying to escape. He still showed his concern as they approached.

“My dear girl, you look as if you’ve been dragged by that wagon, not riding on it,” he called, a worried look on his face.

“She has paid for her crime, Master Curuven. It is my suggestion that she be allowed to rest a few days. Her hands need tending to. They are swollen with blisters,” Feredir answered for her. He stood up and started to reach down to pick her up again, but Terrwyn held up her hand to stop him.

“It’s alright. I can walk. Please.” She was embarrassed to have the Master Healer see her carried like a child. Feredir nodded, but stayed close just in case she started to stumble. He did, however help her down from the cart. She shuffled over to the Healer.

“I’ll not try anything so foolish again, Master Curuven,” she called to him. “You tell the Captain that I have learned my lesson and leave the wood chopping to those who get paid for it.”

Curuven smiled. It was good to see that she still had a sense of humor. He also noticed a prominent change in Feredir. It seemed that keeping him as her guard was the right decision after all. He would notify Captain Glandur just as soon as he was done here. The Captain had been uneasy about his decision. He would be glad to know. “Come my dear. I have a carriage here waiting for you. We’ll get you fixed up in no time. My wife will tend to your wounds and aches. She has been worried for you.” He paused and glanced at Feredir. “And mad at me for allowing all of this.”

Feredir laughed. “I do not wish to be in your boots, Master Curuven.”

“Let this be a lesson to you my young warrior,” the tall Healer jested, then winked. Feredir chuckled quietly and Curuven waved him over. “There’s plenty of room for all three of us.”

“If it is alright with you, I will stay and settle the horse myself. It was quite a heavy load,” Feredir called.

“Very well.” The Healer leapt up into the carriage but stopped before ducking inside. “Oh, and you may have the next couple days to yourself, Feredir. The Lady Terrwyn will be resting in my healing house. Enjoy your reprieve.”

Feredir bowed, hand over heart to Curuven before going about his business. The Healer entered the carriage and they were off to his office.

* * *

Master Curuven carefully led Terrwyn into the healing ward of his office. There were three separate rooms for his patients where he could personally watch over and take care of them. Most injured ended up at the main healing house where nursemaids took care of them. Terrwyn felt a little uneasy taking up one of his special rooms. “Shouldn’t you save these spots for the more gravely injured?” she asked worriedly.

“Nonsense,” he argued. “You are my assistant and have first priority. You know, it was very busy here today. My wife had to help with the patients, and she was none too happy about it. Said she was missing out on her writing time and that makes her very testy.”

Terrwyn laughed at the comical way he put it. She wondered why he whispered the last part when she heard a beautiful womanly voice call from the back. “Is my husband exaggerating again?”

From around the corner emerged a most wondrous creature. She was every bit as tall as Curuven, slim and long just the same. She had long dark hair, white creamy skin, and wore a floor length white gown made of some silky light material that made her look like an angel. She seemed to glow and the healing room actually lit up as she entered it. On her head, she wore a lacy scarf with pearls sewn around the edge. Her eyes were icy blue set over high cheekbones. Terrwyn could not help but stare. She looked like a queen, not a healer’s wife.

The elleth floated, not walked into the room and her sweet eyes and smile instantly turned to that of concern. “You look exhausted, my child.” She shot her husband a cold glare. “This is uncalled for. You know this, Hervenn. Have we lived amongst men for so long that we are beginning to behave just as brutishly?”

Terrwyn did not want to see the elleth upset and spoke up. “No one did this but me, my lady. I’m afraid I was trying to prove a point and might have taken things a little too far. I knew better than to work myself to exhaustion, but I did so anyways. Master Curuven was only following orders by the Captain of the Guard, and so was Feredir.”

The fair elf raised an eyebrow. “Feredir is your guard? Now I understand why you worked your fingers to the bone. Quite assuming that young ellon can be.” Then she leaned down close to Terrwyn’s ear. “And quite handsome wouldn’t you say?” She stood back up and giggled as she watched a pink tinge spread across Terrwyn’s face and neck.

Just then, Curuven appeared at her side, smiling and ignoring his wife’s foul mood. “You’ll have to excuse my wife’s comments. She is part Noldor.” He leaned towards the elleth and sensually kissed her cheek. She gladly offered it to him. “But I married her anyways,” he laughed. He took her hand, raised it to his lips and whispered something elvish before he kissed it. Then he looked at Terrwyn, who was sitting on the edge of her bed. “I would like you to meet my hervess, my lovely wife, Limil.”

“It is very nice to meet you my lady. I’m sorry to stare, but you seem so surreal. Your beauty is unmatched to any elf I have met,” Terrwyn said, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Limil gave her a sweet motherly smile and brushed the hair from the young woman’s face. “We’ll have you fixed up in no time and resting peacefully, my child. Now let’s get you into a warm bath and some comfortable bed clothes so that you may relax and heal.” The elleth turned to her husband.

“It is already done, my sweet. I will let you show her to the bathing room and tend to her,” Master Curuven said. He bowed to Terrwyn and smiled. “I will come and check on you when you are finished. You are in good hands with Limil.”

“Thank you Master Curuven. You are both too kind,” Terrwyn answered and yawned.

* * *

Terrwyn finished with her warm bath. Eucalyptus leaves were added for her sore muscles. Lavender scented oil sat on a table, which she dabbed on here and there. This would help her sleep. A very pretty yellow nightgown hung on the back of a chair. It was soft and silky and slide easily over her skin. It had been a very long time since she soaked in a tub, or wore something so soft. Since coming to Ithilien, Terrwyn had only taken sponge baths and worn stiff cotton bed garments. Still, someone kept her chest stocked with soft towels for drying and flowery soaps. She still wondered who left these few luxuries for her. She thought for sure it was Master Curuven, but when she asked him about it, he said it was not him. It was just one of those little mysteries that made life here more interesting.

She came out of the bathing room to find Limil waiting to help her back to the bedroom. The elleth helped Terrwyn into the bed and made sure she was comfortable. She sat up, resting her back against the headboard. Limil handed her a cup. “Here, drink this. It will ease your pain and help you sleep soundly. You will not stir until morning, I promise you that.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Terrwyn said reaching for the offered cup.

“Please, call me Limil. We use no titles around here. My husband only does it because it makes him feel important,” she teased.

Terrwyn could feel the love these two shared. She longed to find that kind of love of her own one day, if she lived that long.

Limil seemed to hear her thoughts. “You are very troubled. I can feel it. I know why you are here and I find it preposterous, these accusations against you. I may not seem like it to you, but I have lived long enough to see many generations of men. They can be very pig-headed and only see what they want to see. I feel for you, child. Trust that the elves here are doing what we can to help you prove your innocence. The Captain’s scouts are returning from Rohan within the week. Hopefully they will have some information.”

“You are too kind, Limil, but I’m not sure what they will find, if they find anything at all. The fact is I did kill someone, but it was in self-defense. Unfortunately, the only witnesses to the crime are the dead man’s companions. They will continue the lie just to save their own skin. All evidence points to me and makes me look guilty of theft and murder. It just feels so hopeless.” Terrwyn finished drinking her tea. Her eyelids became very heavy and she slowly settled in until she was lying down. She tried to keep talking to Limil, telling her story, but the elleth shushed her.

“Sleep now and give this no more thought. Dream of happier times and rest,” Limil whispered while petting Terrwyn’s red head. In an instant, she was fast asleep, letting her dreams carry her away.
- 25
- 26
- 27
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Journey Of A Butterfly