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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 27 - In Dreams

It was late in the night and Terrwyn was in a deep sleep brought on by the heavily medicated tea that Limil brought her. Dreams ran rampant changing rapidly until she was in a lush green forest. She felt her body and her mind slow way down. This place was the same as the dream she’d had back in Halfirien. Thick ferns covered the forest floor. The smell of moss was unmistakably familiar. The air was heavy with moisture, as if she could cut it with a knife. The tree canopy grew so close that barely any sunlight made it to the ground. She felt very comfortable here and even more so when she felt a presence close to her. Her heart leapt wildly and she laughed. Someone special was here. She climbed the nearest tree as if she’d done it a thousand times already. There was nothing more relaxing than the feel of climbing and jumping from tree to tree. In this environment, she was free of all inhibitions. She was invincible, able to be herself, though she did not recognize this new woman. She was very different from the young Rohirrim that grew up on the open plains. This girl, her new self, felt as though she remembered the trees, knew them by look and by feel. It was a very odd, but very native sensation.

In her dream, Terrwyn was laughing and trying to keep far enough ahead of this other presence, but she wanted to be captured by him. He was familiar to her, trusting, loving. She stopped on a rather large tree limb only for a moment while she caught her breath, and a pair of strong arms grabbed her. Someone pulled her close to their chest and breathed heavily on her neck. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine and an ache began to grow deep within her core. She recognized his scent, leaves and moss and . . . cheap wine? Where did that come from? The arms around her waist tightened and she found she could not breathe. The one she waited for was no longer there, replaced by someone threatening.

“Let me go,” she cried out in fear.

A familiar man’s voice laughed. “Oh, I am not done with you yet.”

“No!” she screamed. It was him. It was Bregmund. But it couldn’t be. He was dead. She had seen to it that night in the stables.

He laughed again and his rotten breath filled her head with fear. “Too bad it was not you who was kidnapped, then he would be living your wonderful life,” he growled as he pointed to the forest floor.

Terrwyn looked down and saw her brother Hathmund, still a child, being dragged away by a group of Southrons. “Hathmund, no!” she yelled, but it was as if her voice would not carry to the forest floor. She struggled in her attackers arms. “Please let me go. He needs me. He needs my help.”

“No help will come to him and he will die. But you, Terrwyn, you will live. Everyone you have ever loved is gone, but you are still here. Why? What makes you so much better that you are allowed to live while the rest of your family lies rotting in the ground?” Bregmund’s voice was harsh.

“No. No, let me go. I have to save him. I have to go after him. Please, before it is too late,” she pleaded with her captor. He just laughed and tightened his grip until she felt she would suffocate and pass out. Terrwyn continued to beg, calling for Hathmund in between pleas. Her world began to go dark. Bregmund was squeezing the life right out of her. The dream slowly disappeared, darkness taking its place.

Then, just as she thought her life was through, she heard another familiar voice. Someone was calling her, worried and anxious.

“Terrwyn. Terrwyn, wake up,” he said.

She tried to call for help, but she could not breathe. She felt her body lift from the bed and suddenly she gasped taking in as much oxygen as she could. Someone was still calling her name. She opened her eyes just a crack. Black hair, silver eyes and a look of concern, it was her guard.

“Feredir,” she whispered. Then she started to come out of her deep sleep. “Help me Feredir. I have to find my brother. He was just here.”

“There is no one here, Naru. It is only you and I,” he calmly said.

Terrwyn shook her head, still half in a daze. “No, no I saw him. I saw him just moments ago.” Her voice was becoming louder as she was about to go into a fit of hysterics.

“No, Terrwyn,” the elf said sternly. “It was naught but a dream.”

She calmed herself and realized he was right. She looked around her. This was the patients healing room. She was in Ithilien, recovering. It was all a dream. Tears filled her eyes and she could hold back her emotions no longer. Feredir pulled her up into his arms and held her against his chest as he sat on the edge of her bed. She was crying so hard, he didn’t know how to calm her again. He rocked back and forth, shushing her and whispering soothing elvish words in her ear. She wrapped her arms around his strong body and buried her face in his neck. The elf kissed the top of her head, then her forehead. She lifted her face to his and looked deep into his mesmerizing gaze. Filled with despair for her past and safety in his arms, her emotions jumbled together. Why her heart raced at a time like this, she did not know, but she didn’t want it to go away either.

Feredir captured her stare. She looked so lost right now, so pitiful, so helpless, so . . . beautiful. His elvish heart wanted nothing but to comfort her, take away her pain. He leaned closer, never taking his eyes from her. Terrwyn leaned into him, mimicking his moves. Tears stained her cheeks and he wiped them away with his thumbs before cupping her face in his hands. Before he knew it, his lips were gently brushing against hers, so soft and supple. Sweet bliss it was to taste her again. He expected her to pull away, but was answered by the feel of hands reaching into his thick mane. He kissed her, only lips upon lips coming together and parting several times. Each time they touched, his blood pulsed faster through his veins and he wanted her. Feredir needed her like no one else he’d known. It was not just a need for release, it was a need to comfort, to protect, to satisfy another and take nothing for himself.

Terrwyn allowed his kisses to take her away from this despair. His mouth covered hers as he deepened the kiss, full lips so sensuous, soft but masculine. They would ravage her if she allowed it, but it was more than that. She could almost hear his thoughts, wanting to take away her pain and sadness. He hadn’t known what else to do to calm her from her hysterical sobbing. She could sense him telling her that he was here to keep her safe from these evil dreams. This was his world and she desperately wanted to be a part of it.

Terrwyn answered him by offering her tongue up for reward. She wanted to taste him, drawn back to that sense of ferns and moss. Feredir moaned and drew her tongue into his mouth. Dancing and darting together, their senses came alive, bodies aching with need as their tongues flicked wildly together.

Too soon for her liking, Feredir pulled away from her, his lips still parted and swollen. Terrwyn brought her hand up and touched them with her delicate fingers. Gods, he was magnificent and she wanted him. She wanted to feel his weight upon her once more, hips gyrating against her own. She wanted him inside her, thrusting and pulsing within her body. For some reason he had stopped, but this would not do. Terrwyn was still in his arms and leaned into his chest again, burying her face in his neck, nipping at his skin, smelling his elvish masculine scent, remembering that hidden strength she’d felt before, wanting him to take her completely. Her mouth traveled to his ear, sucking the lobe between her teeth then running her tongue along the outer edge to that unusual tip. He tasted wonderful and moaned to her ministrations. Hearing his voice made her body slick beneath her nightgown. She moved so that she was lying back on the bed and brought him with her as she did. There was nothing more satisfying than having him on top, covering her body.

Feredir looked down upon her fair face, red hair spread across her pillow. His own hair hung down around them like a curtain of midnight black. She looked back at him longingly, green eyes sparkling and smiling up at him. By the gods, he wanted her. His eyes traveled down to her heaving chest. The thin material of her nightgown contoured the shape of her breasts. Her pebble hard nipples protruded through the silky fabric. He wanted to take them in his teeth, suck her tits into his mouth. He wanted to push them together and slide his elfhood between them while feeling her nipples harden against the palms of his hands.

No, no this was not right. This was not what he wanted. Terrwyn was not just another woman to add to his list. She was not just another affair. This beautiful young Rohirrim was much more than that. She deserved more than just a meaningless screwing. He could not give this to her now. His body only wanted release, to fuck someone just for the sake of fucking.

“Terrwyn,” he whispered desperately. “I . . . I can’t.”

“I want this, Feredir,” she confided.

“Not like this.” He had to force the words from his throat. The human half of him only wanted to wet his cock. The elvish half wanted to worship her. It was a cruel conflict, one he hadn’t dealt with much in the past. Feredir was a master of seduction. He could balance the two halves of his personality so that he was satisfying his cravings without hurting his lover’s heart in the process. Terrwyn brought out something animalistic in his human side, but something gentle and searching for love in his elvish side. The two halves clashed and would not compromise.

He pushed himself off her. “I cannot, Terrwyn.”

She felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She thought he wanted her. She thought he might even have feelings for her. Now he turned away and would not even look at her. Confusion and then anger bubbled beneath the surface of her emotions. “Why are you here then? Why did you come? Why do you seduce me with your foreign words, your kisses, your . . . your--.”

Before he could explain, Feredir heard a muffled voice outside of her room. He gasped and quickly got off her, standing next to her bed. Terrwyn had obviously been too upset to have heard the disturbance in the hallway. She narrowed her eyes. “Get out,” she hissed as the door slowly opened. “Get out of here now!”

“What is going on in here?” said Master Curuven from the door. “Feredir, is that you?”

“Yes, I was checking to see if she was resting well.” It was not a lie. That was the reason he was in her room in the first place. It just so happened that she began to stir and cry out in her sleep. He looked back at Terrwyn who was confused and angry.

Terrwyn did not want Curuven to know what had just occurred and went along with Feredir’s statement. “I was having a bad dream. Feredir woke me is all.” As she spoke, she glared at the elf. “I am fine now. He was just on his way.”

Curuven watched the two for a moment. There seemed to be a sense of tension between them and he wondered what really happened. “I will bring you more tea if it will help you--.”

“I would prefer not to take any more of that medicine, Master Healer,” Terrwyn interrupted. “I am not in so much pain that I cannot fall back to sleep.”

“Very well then,” Curuven said from the door. “We will let you rest.” He gestured for Feredir to follow him.

Feredir walked to the door. Just before closing it, he looked back to Terrwyn. “Good night, my lady.” His voice sounded forlorn.

* * *

Over the next few days, Terrwyn made a full recovery, though her hands were still sore with healing blisters. She tried to help around Curuven’s office, filing papers and checking on patients in the waiting room, but the Master Healer always shooed her away saying she needed to rest.

“I cannot rest anymore, Master Curuven. I am not content to just sit around and do nothing,” she complained.

Curuven looked her over carefully. “Well, I have been given permission to allow you to begin your training again. The Captain agrees that you have served your punishment. Maybe I will send you into town to collect a few supplies for me. How would that be?” he smiled.

“Oh yes, please. I would love the walk to town and back.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Feredir sat in his usual spot, at the small table in the workroom. They had not spoken to each other since that night in her room. Terrwyn was upset with him for letting things get that far and then refusing her. In her mind, she felt used. She had wanted him, was willing to give herself to him and he backed away as if she was diseased. Why did he get her all worked up like that if he had no intention of seeing it through? Then, a part of her knew she was being childish. She should not have let things get so far herself. She should have been the one to stop, but she couldn’t. She wanted him too badly. Her emotions were all in a mess having had that terrible nightmare.

“Feredir,” called Curuven. “I need you to escort Terrwyn into town to run a few errands for me.”

Feredir got up from the table and bowed his head in respect. “Yes, Master Healer.”

They each gathered a few personal belongings and soon were on their way. They walked silently, Terrwyn in front and Feredir following behind in their usual manner of guard and ward. Terrwyn had to do something. The tension between them felt wrong and she knew it was her fault. She found her courage and spoke. “Is there some rule that says you cannot walk beside your charge?”

Feredir was surprised to hear her speak. “No, I just thought you would prefer that I did not walk so close to you.”

Terrwyn slowed until he caught up to her. Then they walked side by side up the cobblestone road. Why was she finding it so difficult to speak to him? The matter of relationships was still new to her, being Rosloch was the only real companionship she’d had with a man. Feredir was part elf also and she did not know how his kind reacted in such situations.

She heard Feredir sigh and then his hand grasped her arm, making her stop. “Terrwyn, I must apologize for my unnecessary actions the other night.”

Her heart skipped a beat as he mentioned the night in question. So, he had felt something too and it was not just her that reacted. “No Feredir, it is my fault also. I should not have sought comfort from you.”

“I was glad you did,” he whispered. “But you were under the influence of Limil’s tea. I know what kind of concoctions she makes and you were not yourself I am sure.”

Terrwyn was very sure she was herself, but this would be a good excuse to say otherwise. “Yes, it was likely the tea.”

Feredir looked to the ground, the corners of his lips upturned slightly into a smile. “I think we have started a kind of friendship between us, and I would not want to harm or take advantage of that. I would like to start over if we can. We have not exactly been the most civil to each other.”

Terrwyn laughed “That is putting it mildly don’t you think?” She was amazed at how much he had changed recently, from pompous guard to someone more caring. “I think I would like that Feredir.”

They started on their way again, walking side by side in silence for a while. Terrwyn smiled shyly. “I like seeing your elvish qualities much more than your human side.”

Feredir laughed. “I sometimes forget they are there.” He looked around at the trees growing to the sides of the road. “I must admit, living in Gondor has made me feel more human. I do miss the forests of my home. They are so thick and lush, much more dense than here in Ithilien.”

“Funny you should mention it. That is exactly how I see a forest in my dreams. The colors and the smells are so vivid that I feel I am actually there,” she reminisced.

Feredir furrowed his brow. “The dream you had last night, you sounded like you were in danger.”

Terrwyn remembered the feel of Bregmund’s grip on her. It was very much the same as when it really happened. “I have . . . memories,” she gave as her short answer. Having to recall that dreadful night in the stables made her very nervous. She needed to change the subject. Feredir did not need to know about that part of her life. “So you say Mirkwood is like that of my dreams?”

He knew she would falter from the subject at hand and so he followed her lead. “You describe it exactly. Have you ever been there?”

“No,” she shook her head. “No, but I once met an elf from your home. I was just a child then . . . at Helm’s Deep.” Suddenly it occurred to her that Feredir would have been a warrior during that time. She gasped and asked excitedly. “Were you there? Did you fight for Rohan?”

“I’m afraid not. I stayed in Mirkwood by orders from my King. Only a small select group was sent to the Deep,” he answered. He hadn’t given much thought to her childhood and where she fell into that timeline. “How old were you then?”

“I was six. Hathmund was nine. My father was already dead by that time, taken by the enemy in the Westfold. My mother was in despair and not herself. Hathmund took care of me during that time.” She got a faraway look in her eyes. “Mother was in one of her many depressions and Hathmund did not want me to see, but I knew. She did not sing to me anymore. She did not hold me in her arms. She would just sit there and cry or hold her head in her hands.”

“It is not easy to lose a loved one,” Feredir commented, thinking of his own experiences.

“No, it is not,” Terrwyn continued. “That is why we were playing on the veranda. We wanted sunshine and fresh air, but what we got was thick looming clouds and the stench of nasty bogs. Later I learned that the foulness in the air was that of approaching orcs who would appear later that night. We ignored it, of course.” She suddenly smiled and looked at Feredir with bright green eyes. “I found my sunshine though, in the form of an elf. Oh he was so beautiful. I can’t explain it, but everything about him spoke of love and joy even in those dark times. He was singing a bewitching tune and I could not help but be drawn to him. He was magical,” she said dreamily. “We talked to him, Hathmund and I. He gave us words of hope and encouragement. Then he gave my brother an elvish knife and me, a little wooden butterfly. He said I was like that butterfly.”

As she continued on, Feredir watched the joy disappear from her eyes. “You seem as though something happened.”

“I loved that butterfly, took it everywhere with me. I would hold it and stroke it, make wishes upon its wings that I would one day meet and live amongst other elves like him.” Terrwyn stopped walking and hung her head. “I lost it though.” She proceeded to tell him about her adventures with Rosloch as they traveled from Firien Wood to Minas Tirith. She explained in detail where exactly she was when she lost her beloved trinket. Feredir made mental notes of every bush, every tree as she recalled her story. He could see how special this was to her, how important it was.

“Did you ever find out who this elf was?” he asked.

Terrwyn shook her head. “No, I never saw him again. I hope he did not perish in the war,” she smiled. “But something tells me just laughed as the orcs attacked him. He was such a free spirit, everything I imagine the elves to be.”

Her comments reminded him that he was only half-elvish, something he tried very hard to overcome. Feredir had always wished he was a full blooded elf. It was because of this that he had a difficult time growing up in Mirkwood, why he strived so hard to be the best now. He always felt the need to prove that he was just as much an elf as all the others, despite his Gondorian blood. He felt that again now as he watched Terrwyn speak of this Mirkwood warrior from her past. Even she did not see him as an elf, but as some half breed. He needed to prove her wrong. He wanted her to see him as she saw this elf from her childhood. He wanted to be her hero.
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Journey Of A Butterfly