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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
- 28
- 29
- 30
Chapter 29 - Found

Feredir rode hard over the lands trying to get to his rendezvous point and meet the elf scouts to retrieve this letter for Captain Glandur. It would take him another day to get to the meeting place. Then he would make a secret camp and wait for the scouts to arrive. As he traveled, his mind often wandered to Terrwyn. He had tried his best to keep distance between them. He wanted her, yes, but not in the way he would normally want a woman. He needed to woo her, impress her, show her he was not the arrogant uncaring guard who let her work her fingers to the bone. The fact that she was a prisoner made matters even more difficult. She would be leaving soon and her future was unclear. Should he really be entertaining the idea of a relationship with her in the first place? He should have never let his feelings get in the way of his job. If he had only followed orders to begin with, Feredir may have never even met the red haired Rohirrim. He would still be out on the borders doing what he loved best. This was another factor that made things difficult. Captain Glandur was about to release him from punishment and send him back with his troops. This would mean long stays at the border and only occasional reprieve in the city. What did he want more, border guard or Terrwyn? The answer should have been obvious. Terrwyn was temporary, and if this letter proved to be useless, she would be gone in just a matter of weeks. Perhaps he should have just taken her that night in the healing house, satisfied his curiosity and left another woman sated and wondering if he would ever touch her again. Why should he even waste his thoughts and concerns on this?

. . . Because she was worth more than that. Because no other woman had made him feel so alive, inside and out. Because . . . because . . . he had feelings for her. Feredir cringed at the very thought. How was it possible that he had feelings for anyone besides the feelings of desire? Hadn’t he always told himself he did not have time for this kind of situation, that this would interfere with his goals? How could he go on proving himself to the Captain and his other Ithilien brothers when he was smitten with some . . . woman? No, he had to put Terrwyn out of his mind. He had to continue with his path. There was no time to get his heart involved when he was striving to become the best archer since the Prince himself, to come out of Mirkwood.

It was late when Feredir finally stopped for a short break. He found a place where his horse could get water and he could take rest. A patch of trees would give him enough shelter from prying eyes. So far, he had not met any unwanted attention, but that did not mean someone was not watching. Reports of attacks were becoming more frequent in these parts. The Haradrim were getting braver and attacking just inside the borders of Gondor. Feredir would take his rest, but remain cautious.

He found a sturdy tree with a wide trunk and limbs that stretched out like welcoming arms. It was good to be amongst the trees again. His heart always did lie within them, seeking comfort from their quiet lullabies that only the elves could hear. He leaned back against the trunk, extended his long legs out and crossed his ankles as he settled onto the limb. He leaned his head back against the tree, his long black hair hanging down to his waist, and closed his eyes. Just a short reprieve and he would be on his way again, he thought as a light elvish sleep took him.

* * *

Terrwyn was becoming quite comfortable over the last couple of days. Living with Curuven and Limil was such a joy. She loved to sit back and watch how they interacted with one another. They joked and teased. Occasionally one would irritate the other, but it never lasted and always ended with a kiss. Terrwyn sighed and thought to herself how much she wanted to find this kind of love. What a great comfort it would be to know someone loved her so much that there was no need to worry about tomorrow. No matter what happened, she would know there was always someone there watching over her, loving her, making sure she was happy. It would be Terrwyn’s greatest joy also to be able to return those same qualities.

The young Rohirric had just finished washing and headed down to Master Curuven’s workroom. She heard him talking to his wife. There were reports of activity in an uncommon place, near the road at the entrance to the land of Ithilien. Such invasions usually occurred in areas less protected, or guarded by fewer border guards. To know the Southrons were attacking in populated areas where travelers were more commonly seen made everyone on edge. Curuven thought it best to start making a few batches of medicines just in case there were any wounded. So far he had not received word of any injured, but that did not mean there was none.

Terrwyn had been out in the garden gathering herbs on her list from the Healer. Her mind wandered to Feredir and she hoped he was safe. She knew he could take care of himself, but she worried about him being alone. If attacked, he would have no help. Of course, he would argue that he needed no help, stubborn elf that he was. She missed him, missed his voice and the way he called her Naru. This was silly of her, she thought. Feredir’s mind would be on anything but thoughts of her. He had made it clear in his actions that he was not interested and that whatever transpired between them that night was a mistake. She was distraught. He was comforting her. Things went a little too far. Yes, that was all it was.

Oh, who was she kidding? There was no mistake on her part. She had wanted him. The feelings were too strong to ignore. The way he responded was more than just friendly comforting. Terrwyn was sure he wanted her too, but how much did he want? What did he want? Was it just the desire to know her body or the desire to know her soul? She hoped for the latter.

Terrwyn finished gathering her herbs and came back into the house to hear Curuven and Limil in a discussion about simmering.

“Of course it does not need to be a rolling boil, my love, but there aren’t any bubbles at all. The heat is not high enough. It will never cook down as you want it to,” Limil suggested sweetly.

“It is steaming and that means it is simmering, my sweet. Who is the healer here?” Curuven asked kindly. Even when they argued, it was with love and kindness in their voices.

Terrwyn giggled and both elves looked up from what they were doing. They smiled at her. “Ah, I see you have finished collecting my herbs,” Curuven said as he went to her and took the basket from her arm. Terrwyn watched as Limil stoked the coals in the stove while Curuven wasn’t looking, making the flames rise to get the pot bubbling. Curuven continued. “We will need all the help we can get this morning, which is why Limil is here instead of writing.” He turned just in time to see her closing the stove’s door. The Healer floated to his wife and kissed her. “You know I do not like to interrupt your private time, sweetness.”

Limil kissed him back. “I know, my love, but I also know how important it is to have enough medicine on hand, just in case it is needed.” She touched his cheek lovingly with the back of her fingers and then walked over to the workbench to help Terrwyn prepare the herbs. The young woman observed Master Curuven open the stove door, take the poker and spread out the coals, diminishing the fire Limil had just raised. Terrwyn giggled again, drawing Limil’s attention to Curuven who was not quick enough in closing the stove door.

“Stubborn elf,” Limil said, but it sounded more like a compliment than an insult. She shook her head and turned back to Terrwyn. “Honestly, you would think I have never cooked anything in my life. I think I know what a simmer is. It matters not if it is herbs for stew or herbs for a remedy.”

Terrwyn smiled. “I think it is sweet how the two of you get along. I dream of the day I meet my forever love.”

“You can be sure that he will be just as stubborn, especially if he is an elf,” Limil commented. She glanced at the woman from the corner of her eye, noticing the sudden stiffness in Terrwyn’s manner. “Do not think that I have not noticed the way you look at Feredir. You are in love with him, aren’t you?”

Terrwyn could feel herself blush. “Feredir?” she said and her voice went a little too high, cracking and giving herself away. Limil simply raised an eyebrow and Terrwyn knew there was no hiding it. “Really, is it that obvious?”

“My dear, you did not even have to look at him and I would have known you loved him. I feel the tension between the two of you when you are in the same room. It is not just one sided either. Feredir has feelings for you also, though he tries very hard to dismiss them. The soul knows what it wants, Terrwyn, especially that of an elf. It matters not that he is only half-elven. There is nothing human about his soul. He will come around eventually and I think this little separation will make him realize just how much he loves you.”

Terrwyn shook her head. “I don’t think it is love he feels. I know what kind of life he has lived. I know he has had many lovers, but none to love. Why should I think he feels any differently about me?”

Limil stopped cleaning leaves from the stems and laid her hand on top of Terrwyn’s drawing the woman’s sight to meet the elleth’s eyes. “I know you cannot see this because you have not yet stopped long enough or looked deep enough, but there is a spark within his astral eyes when he watches you. Feredir has never looked upon anyone in such a manner. I have known him ever since he first came to Curuven as an elfling with a sprained ankle. He had that same spark then, before he realized just how different he was from the rest of his kin. As he grew older and the teasing began, I watched that light dwindle, but since he has met you, it has been rekindled. You give him new hope, new confidence. He has just not stopped long enough to realize it yet. Feredir is very protective of his heart and feelings. He had a difficult upbringing. That is all I will say for it is not my place to discuss it. Just know that being a Peredhil raised in a land where pure heritage is pride made life a struggle for him. Always needing to prove himself worthy of other’s respect has taken its toll and made him who he is today. It is just a front though, Terrwyn. Beneath that hardened exterior and aloofness is a soul needing love and acceptance for who he truly is.”

So that was why Feredir was the way he was, Terrwyn thought to herself as she went back to cleaning herbs. He was constantly teased for being half-elven. It made since now. His black hair alone would be enough to draw attention among all the Mirkwood elves. He could not hide the fact that he was not a full-blooded elf. This must also account for the reason he was always trying to prove himself as a warrior. If he could become the best at what he does, he could earn the respect of all those who doubted him over the years. All of this made Terrwyn wonder about his family. Who were his parents? Which of them was human, which was elf? There was so much more to know about Feredir. He was a mystery, one that she would like to unravel.

* * *

Feredir hadn’t known just how tired he was and let himself fall into a deeper reverie than he would have liked. It was too late though. Dreams took him, dreams of days long gone, of ghosts from his past and people he would no longer see. No, he thought to himself. He did not want to revisit this now. He was haunted by these memories far too often being so close to Minas Tirith. Now he was amongst the trees and wished to dream of home, of lush forests and fern covered grounds. The mind of an elf was strong enough, even in sleep, to force more likeable thoughts to the surface. The dark haired elf concentrated and managed to place himself deep in the forests of Mirkwood. The sights and sounds came flooding back into his memory. How he missed those days when he was free to explore the forbidden areas. After the destruction of Sauron, more young elves like himself overcame their fear and discovered the long forgotten places of the deep forest. They were the daring ones who knew they could walk these areas without fear of spiders. Those days were over and it was time to live life the way their elders could not. This was where Feredir found his unconscious mind now.

He sniffed the thick air and it was familiar to him, but there was a new scent he had not remembered. Roses, he thought and could not remember seeing any. Why would he smell roses here? The canopy above was too thick to allow enough sunlight in to sustain roses, yet he knew that scent. It made his heart pound inside his ribcage. He imagined what color they might have been. Not white or yellow, that scent was too delicate. No, this had a stronger aura about it. Pink? No, not pretty frilly pink, but dusty . . . faded red.

“Naru,” he whispered and suddenly she was standing beside him on the forest floor. Their feet disappeared into the thick close growing ferns. How easy it would be to vanish amongst them.

“Feredir,” she whispered back and cupped her hand to the side of his face.

They spoke no more words and let their actions talk instead. Feredir reached up and took her hand, but she brought it to her breast. He felt her nipple harden against his palm and looked to her once more just to make sure she had given him permission to touch her. He was awarded by her sweet smile and a slight nod. The elf brought his other hand up, covering both breasts and lightly squeezing them. Terrwyn threw her head back and moaned. Feredir’s blood raced through his veins, filling his desire, making him painfully hard beneath his restricted leggings. He watched as her sight fell to his arousal. She smiled and licked her lips, then reached down and stroked him through the material. Nimble hands untied the laces of his leggings and dipped inside. She gasped and bit her bottom lip, smiling devilishly. By the gods, it felt good having her holding him, stroking him. The elf moaned and let go of a breath he had been holding. She stroked him more, her grip tightening and her pace quickening. Feredir wanted to please her too, but found he could not move. Breaking the bond now would mean breaking his train of thought and so he let her please him.

“Oh, Terrwyn,” he finally whispered in her ear. “Terrwyn, I want you. I need you.” He licked her ear along the outer edge. “I love you.”

Feredir’s eyes shot open. What did he just say? Did he say that aloud? Was there anyone around to hear him? He regained his consciousness and realized he was still in the tree out in the middle of nowhere. It was only a dream, but one that felt so real. Then he felt the throbbing pain of his fully erect penis. He had not thought of Terrwyn long and look at the state he was in. He had never been this hard and unable to find relief. A vision of his dream flooded back into his mind and he thought of Terrwyn stroking him. Feredir rubbed his hand over the bulge in his pants. If he did not find relief, he would surely go mad. He closed his eyes and imagined her long red hair covering his thighs. Undoing the laces and folding down the material of his leggings, his arousal sprung free. The vernal elf began stroking himself, all the while imagining it to be Terrwyn. His hand came up to the rim and back down to the top of his hardening sack. He released himself just long enough to spit in his hand. Ah, now it moved more freely over the silky skin. Faster he stroked. It would not take him long to come. Feredir lifted his shirt, exposing the taut muscles of his stomach. His hips bucked slightly, lips parted and teeth glared in the moonlight as he made an animalistic growl and spill his seed, splashing onto his belly. “Oh, Terrwyn,” he said under his breath as her ghostly vision left his mind. Then he realized he had said those three forbidden words and he said them with her in his thoughts. Feredir loved Terrwyn. He loved the way she talked too much when she was nervous. He loved the way her green eyes caught on fire when she was angry. He loved the way she surrendered herself to him that night in the healing room. Everything about her was beautiful. Even when she irritated him, he still wanted her. Yes, he had no choice but to admit this to himself. He wanted her and he loved her. What an odd combination, he thought. For so long he avoided this, but he could not deny it any longer. Terrwyn was special. She stood up to him when he was at his worst. She did not throw herself at him as other women had done. She was her own woman and in charge of as much of her life as was possible in her situation. Now he prayed that there was something in the letter that would help clear her of these charges. He wanted her free, free like the Mearas, free to choose her own path and make her own decisions. He wanted her free to choose him, to love him in return.

Feredir smiled and cleaned himself off with some of the leaves from the tree. “I am sorry my friend,” he said jokingly to the tree. “But I am sure you have been around long enough to see what drives the elves to such madness. Thank you for your shelter,” he spoke as he reassembled himself. Then he jumped down and mounted his horse. It was time to get to the rendezvous point and get that letter so he could get back to Terrwyn.

* * *

The sun was coming up now and the landscape was becoming more prominent. In just a few hours, he would reach the meeting place and set up camp. Dew glistened on the grass to the side of the dusty road. A light breeze began to blow. It was warmer than usual. Feredir gasped. Spring! It was the first signs of the coming changes in season. Soon the Rohirrim would come for Terrwyn. Feredir felt a twinge of urgency at the thought of watching her escorted off by these men. He was not sure he trusted them alone with her on such a long journey. Now, most men of Rohan were honorable. Feredir had met quite a few and had an utmost respect for them. But as it was with all men, some were less respectable. These were the ones that Feredir worried about now.

As his thoughts rambled on, he looked to his right at the landscape in the distance. Why did it seem familiar to him? He had not been to these parts of Gondor in a very long time. The land would most certainly have changed since then, yet he couldn’t help feel he had seen this area before. Then it dawned on him that he had seen it before, just not through his own eyes. Terrwyn had talked about traveling through here and the attack by the Southrons. The trees, the bushes, it all made perfect sense. She spoke of this place. This was the spot where she lost her most prized possession, the little wooden butterfly.

“Daro!” he commanded his horse and she stopped dead in her tracks. Feredir jumped down and started searching the area. Back in Mirkwood, he had been a tracker and used his skills now. He remembered the layout of the land as Terrwyn had described it. The weather would have erased most evidence but some things would not have changed, for example, the broken branches of the bushes he was observing now. There had been a struggle here. He looked around some more and found ashes of a fire long since put out. She had been sitting by the fire when she heard a noise and saw her escort captured. The broken branches must have been the place where the Haradrim dragged her into the forest. Feredir knew Terrwyn would have fought first. She would have dropped the butterfly before entering the woods. He walked around, moving sand and leaves with his boots. Then he kicked something and it flipped over. There it was as if it had been calling to him, the wooden butterfly. Carefully, he picked it up and held it in his hand. It was very simple, but the design on the wings was unmistakably elvish. Whoever made this had put a lot of thought into it. The edges of the wings were worn and he thought of all the times Terrwyn must have held it in her hand and stroked it, praying for her wishes to be answered. Feredir’s heart beat loudly as he hoped he would be the one to make her wish come true. He had found her little trinket. He could be her hero and maybe she would love him in return.

He wrapped it in a soft piece of cloth and tucked it safely in his saddle pack. Somehow, this seemed much more like precious cargo than the letter he was sent to retrieve and he smiled to himself knowing he would be the messenger. Feredir got back onto his path and headed for the meeting point. He would carry out his mission proudly, deliver the letter to his Captain and find Terrwyn to give her the good news of his findings. Everything seemed to just fall into place now. Everything would work out. How could it not? The signs were all there as if the Valar themselves were standing in front of him. Everything was coming together.
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Journey Of A Butterfly