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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
- 31
- 32
- 33
Chapter 32 - And Along Came Naru

With a hurried stride, Feredir made his way to Master Curuven’s healing house. Long had it been since he laid eyes upon her. He was surprised, shocked by how much he missed seeing her lovely face, her long wavy red hair. He wanted to know Terrwyn better and if that meant slowing himself and taking his time with her, then that was what he would do. The fact that he could not shake her from his mind while absent from her had to account for something. Feredir was not used to this kind of behavior either. He was used to having no strings when it came to relationships. Feona had been the best example of that and even she could see something brewing in his heart, but why now?

All of his life he thought of himself as nothing else but elf-kind. As far as he was concerned, he would stay in Middle-earth for as long as he needed to or until he felt the call. Then he would sail with the rest of his kin. And then, along came this simple human woman with a complicated past. At first, he did not care. This was all just part of a punishment for something he did not see as wrong. He never noticed her then, never cared and even made her life miserable at times. When she ran from him that day in the forest he was prepared to injure her and stop her escape. This was all he ever knew, his only way of thinking. He was a warrior, a border guard. She caught his eye for one single moment and his perception of her changed. He had felt his heart leap. Yes, he ignored it and tried to force those feelings back to the depths in which they originated, but he couldn’t, not completely.

Then, there was the time when he saw her mentally collapse as he continued to belittle her in an attempt to cover his own newly discovered feelings. Feredir could literally see the hope dissipating from her soul. He had been responsible for that. She was no enemy, but he treated her as one, pushed her to her very limits and she ended up in the healing house because of it. Feredir was ashamed of himself for letting things get that far. Terrwyn injured herself, choosing pain before asking him for help and have him gloat again. Why? Why did he treat her this way? So often, he had asked himself this. Back then, his answer would have been simple. She irritated him, or so he thought. What was bothering him was the fact that deep down she was affecting his heart, turning him into the one thing he said he would never be, a fool in love. The very thought made him want to stick a hot iron rod into his leg, but he knew deep down it would not change anything, just prolong it.

This messed up everything, every plan, every dream. He did not want that, but he could not ignore what his heart told his mind. The real reason for feeling like a fool was thinking he had his life figured out already; thinking nothing could sway him from that path. Terrwyn did just that. She challenged every aspect of every hurdle he had to jump thus far. Still, he felt the first twinges of love.

Love . . . even now, the word made him cringe. Then he would envision her sweet face and the way she looked at him. Feredir wanted to see himself the way that she did. She trusted him, trusted that he was fair and kind, that he would not take advantage of her. He needed to prove to himself that she meant more to him than just another bedmate, another notch in his four-poster.

Feredir reached the healing house and turned the knob on the door. He did not expect to see an empty waiting room. This was odd, but good news for the Master Healer. No patients meant healthy residents, a good feeling for someone that worked as hard as Curuven.

The elf readied his heart, but now he needed to ready his mind. There was still the complication of the injured elf. Before he could concentrate on Terrwyn, he needed to see him, know he was alright and learn of the reason for his visit. Feredir went through the door that led to the healing rooms. All was quiet as he opened the first door, finding the bed made and empty. No one occupied this room. He came to the second door and slowly twisted the handle. Peeking inside, he found the same result. No one was here. One more door and this would most definitely be where he would find his injured kin. He grabbed the handle, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, unsure of what he would find. The door opened gently. To his surprise, the room was empty, but there were definite signs of occupancy. The bed was made, but rumpled. The jug on the table was filled and the glass next to it was half-full.

Feredir shut the door and wondered where the patient might be. It seemed no one was anywhere to be found, not Master Curuven or his wife, not Terrwyn, not even the Mirkwood elf. He made his way to the back room, where the medicines were fabricated. Someone had been in here. There were some powders placed in piles waiting to be put into a flask for mixing. Someone was making a concoction of some sort, but it seemed they stopped.

He ran his fingers through his thick black hair as he often did when in thought, when his ears picked up on the sound of laughter coming from outside. Feredir strained his hearing for another sample. When he heard it again, he knew right away who it was. Terrwyn’s voice was a constant in his mind and he knew that sound. He smiled to himself, reached into his tunic to the pocket of his undershirt, and pulled out a small cloth. He carefully unwrapped it and took out the little wooden butterfly. For so long he had anticipated this moment, the look of surprise on her face as she was reunited with her beloved trinket.

Feredir walked to the back door and peered out of the window before opening it. He just needed to see her, take in her beauty before announcing his arrival. He wanted to observe her as she laughed, enjoying a beautiful day in the garden with Master Curuven.

There she was, kneeling amongst the winter herbs, a basket at her side. She was smiling and saying something, but he could not hear her words for she spoke so softly. She turned to look behind her and Feredir followed her line of sight. Then, the smile disappeared from his face. His heart fell a thousand leagues. It was not Curuven in the garden, but the one elf he wished not to see. Feredir watched as he strode to where she knelt, offered her a hand and helped her to her feet. Then he reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. He captured her with his golden- eyed stare, the same eyes that had cast innumerable judgments on Feredir. Why was he not in bed recovering from this ‘horrible wound’ that everyone mentioned? Why was he with Terrwyn, smiling at her seductively? Moreover, why was Terrwyn letting him spoil her with his charms? Surely, she could see right through his exterior. Surely, she was smarter than that.

Feredir’s heart sunk a second time as he watched the golden elf’s thumb swipe across her lips, parting them. He leaned towards her and Feredir expected Terrwyn to back away, but she did not. She allowed this behavior, even seemed to want it. No, he thought to himself. “Not my Naru too. Have you not already taken away everything else from me?” he said softly, his breath creating a foggy condensation on the window. He peeled his eyes from them to look at his clenched fist. Slowly opening it, he looked at the butterfly he had so carefully kept and tossed it carelessly onto the workbench. It tumbled and rolled, coming to rest behind a row of empty jars, hidden from plain sight. At the same time, the protective wall around his heart that he had begun to dismantle started to build once more. Every little ping was another brick replaced, filling the recent gap . . . and his soul cried out in despair for it to stop. It was too late though, his mind answered and his soul crumbled into a ball where it would once again be contained. Disappointment was familiar to Feredir. He knew how to deal with that much better than his recently discovered feelings for Terrwyn.

He could take no more and just as these two were about to kiss, he slung open the door, making as much of a commotion as possible. Stunned and surprised, the spell was broken as the pair turned their attention to the workroom door.

Terrwyn’s heart leapt as she realized this was no vision. Feredir was really here, standing tall and looking just as handsome as ever. She had had doubts recently about her feelings for him, especially with Orthorien around. Without any word from Feredir the entire time he’d been gone, and knowing they parted with such doubt and hesitation, she let herself entertain the idea of being with Orthorien. He had a way of making her feel so alive, as if she had no problems. Sometimes she felt as if she was in a daze when in his presence, a place she found she did not want to leave at times.

Now, here was Feredir, materializing like an ethereal apparition and she knew Orthorien did not compare. Feredir made her body tingle, her heart pound one hundred times faster. She had been so unsure of her feelings for him up until now. Feredir was the elf she dreamt of all her life. His was the one name that came to her mind constantly.

Terrwyn smiled at the dark haired elf. “Feredir, you are back. I was unaware of your return.”

Feredir stood stone faced, but she ignored it and went to him, wrapping her arms around him. His hand came up and rested on her back, but with no emotion. She stood back and gave him a look of uncertainty then laughed it off. It was not the first time he had this kind of reaction. “Come, there is someone I want to introduce you to.” She took his hand, but he would not budge from his spot, as if his feet were glued to the stone step. “Feredir?” she asked confused. His sight trained on the other elf.

“Hello Orthorien. Shouldn’t you be in your healing room recovering?” Feredir said in an icy voice.

“Come now, Feredir, has it been so long that you forget it takes more than a poisoned arrow to keep me off of my feet?” Orthorien responded with a forced smile. He could tell that Feredir was none too happy to see him.

Terrwyn felt the tension, but even more, she was surprised to see they had met before. “You know each other?” she asked.

Feredir remained silent, letting Orthorien answer her question. “Feredir is my brother.”

“Half-brother,” Feredir added instantly.

Terrwyn furrowed her brow and looked to Feredir. “Your brother? In all this time, you did not mention having a brother.”

Orthorien continued. “It is no surprise. I am the reason he came to Ithilien in the first place. He felt he was living beneath my shadow in Mirkwood.” His face showed a smug smile. “He did not understand that I was only trying to help him.”

Feredir narrowed his eyes. “I will not discuss this now.” He looked at Terrwyn again. “It seems the two of you have become quite acquainted with one another.”

“I helped to take care of him of course. I am the Healers assistant after all,” she defended herself. She was unsure what this tension was, but she did not appreciate it one bit.

“Is that your title now?” Feredir’s voice was cold. “Has something changed in my absence? Last I heard you were still a prisoner, though you are not treated as such.”

His words physically threw her as she took a few steps away from Feredir. It was as if a fist had reached into her chest and squeezed the blood from her heart. Her mouth hung agape and her eyes tinged with hot tears that began to pool. She did not know this elf. Even from the very beginning, he had never reacted in this way.

From behind her, Orthorien spoke. “A prisoner?” he said almost as if it were a joke.

Feredir’s hands went to his belt buckle as he held his head high. “Oh, she did not tell you this bit of information now did she?” He knew deep down this was not right. He should not have been speaking in such a way, but it was the only way he knew to discourage Orthorien from any further interest in Terrwyn. His brother was a captivating, determined elf and when he saw something he wanted, there was no stopping him. It was true that Feredir had always felt he was two steps behind his brother. He was used to it and knew how to manage himself around the older warrior, yet never had he needed to defend someone else against his brother. Terrwyn was naïve, or at least he thought she was. She would not be able to keep from falling for Orthorien’s incorrigible charm. From what he saw through the window, he may be too late, and if she did choose his brother, Feredir would not lead on that he had begun to let her into his heart. It was better that she did not know.

Terrwyn glared at Feredir with daggers in her eyes. She waited to see what he would do, how he would react, but he was like a marble statue. She would get no response from him. As she kept her eyes trained on Feredir, she answered Orthorien’s question. “It is true. I am a prisoner and your brother is my guard.” She paused, looking over her shoulder and away from Feredir. “A guard and nothing else it seems.” She took a few steps away from the dark-haired elf. “I await the people of my lands to come for me and bring me back to Rohan. But while I was being held here in Ithilien, I was given another chance and allowed to learn a bit about medicine. What started out as a working punishment has turned into a learning experience. I have learned a great deal about herbs and healing, when to act quickly to save a life . . .” Here, she looked once more to Feredir. “. . . and when to let go because there is no hope of recovery.”

With these last words, a tear escaped the corner of her eye. She just wanted to run, to get away from all of this. She felt like the fool to think that Feredir could ever see her as anything but a prisoner. It seemed like a long way from the spot where she stood in the garden to the door of the house, and Feredir stood between like an angry bulldog. Without saying another word, Terrwyn charged at him, walking as quickly as her legs would allow. At the last moment, he moved out of the way and she ran into the house, upstairs to her room. She was angry, embarrassed, ready to either scream or cry. Why had Feredir returned to his original persona? She thought they had made progress. She felt as if he finally saw her for who she was and not the person everyone else made her out to be. Now she knew he was only doing his duty. Once she was gone, Feredir would go back to his former life. At least he had a former life. Hers was a torrent of disappointment and grief, and her future did not look much better.

Meanwhile, back outside in the herb garden, Feredir and Orthorien remained standing there, looking each other over for it had been many years since they had been together. Orthorien made the first move, walking to Feredir, where he still stood atop the steps. He seemed to like his perch and Orthorien would not try to chase him down. So he stood at the bottom of the few steps that led to the back door of the healing house and looked up at his brother.

“I know I have intruded upon your territory being here, and my visit was unexpected,” Orthorien started. He looked past his brother to the door. “If I have stepped past my boundaries with the girl, then--.”

“She is a prisoner, not one of your latest adventures,” Feredir said sternly.

Orthorien looked at him curiously, “Yes, of course,” he challenged. “And what of you Feredir? Last I heard you were making your way quickly through the ranks of the border guard, and here I find you a city warden.” Orthorien shook his head slowly in disappointment. “You have yet to learn to harness that determination of yours. My guess is that you mouthed off to one of your officers or took situations into your own hands. You always did have trouble following the rules.”

“I do not need one of your lectures, Orthorien. Besides, I am being reinstated soon. I have fulfilled my duties here.” Feredir held his composure with his brother, who was known for easily getting under his skin.

Orthorien brought himself to the step just below the one Feredir stood on. “Are you sure about that, Brother? Seems to me there is still a duty you have not attended to.” He smiled slyly and glanced to the window above them. “Seems to me there is something more than meets the eye going on with the girl.”

Feredir remained cool, but Orthorien could see that he stumbled on some private feelings that were simmering just below the surface. The dark elf gathered himself even more, the invisible wall surrounding him now thicker than anything even a dwarf could carve through. “You heard her; I am her guard and nothing more.”

Orthorien smiled in that way that made Feredir’s blood boil, the same way he did when Feredir was an elfling. “That is good to know then. Perhaps I will stay a bit longer here in Ithilien. Hmm, a prisoner, now that is something I have not encountered yet.” Orthorien laughed and walked past Feredir, entering the house.

His brother’s laugh rang in his ears. It was that same laugh that said he would never be as good as his older brother and that his half-elven blood would never allow it. In all the years it took Feredir to separate himself from Orthorien, he was brought right back with that one sound. He felt himself shrink, no longer the top warrior of his battalion, but the child who could never escape his heritage. It was times like this that he wondered why this had to happen to him. Never was anyone so proud to call himself an elf and never was anyone so self-loathing at the same time. Feredir had tried very hard to forget his Gondorian blood and the ridicule of growing up as a Peredhil amongst many proud full-blooded Woodelves. Now, with an unexpected visit and only a few words, Feredir was once again transformed to that intimidated elfling he so despised.

Feredir turned and followed his brother into the house. “Leave the girl out of this,” he growled. “Why have you come, Orthorien? You agreed to give me my peace and so far, you have kept your word. Why are you here now?” he demanded.

Orthorien put all joking and arrogance aside, letting his shoulders drop. “I come with news of our mother.” His tone changed to sadness now, and Feredir knew he was being sincere.

“What about Mother?” Feredir asked anxiously. “Has something happened to her?”

“Feredir,” the golden elf started, placing a caring hand on his young brother’s arm. “She has heard the call. She prepares to sail.”

Feredir’s brow creased. “What? Why . . . why now?”

Orthorien shook his head. “She feels her years are spent and she is ready to go home . . . to our real home across the sea. She will not leave until she has had a chance to speak with you. Feredir, she worries about you, about your Peredhil heritage. She wonders if you have made a decision yet. She will not say it, but I know she is troubled by this. She will spend years waiting for you to arrive in Valinor. She will check every arriving ship hoping you are on it. Mother says she will respect and accept your decision, whatever it may be, but I see her despair.”

“I have told her many times that I will choose the life of an elf. There is no other option for me,” Feredir argued.

“How can you be so sure, Brother. You spend so much time amongst the mortals. What happens if you choose to live as one of them? What if you--.” Here Orthorien looked up to the stairs that led to the upper floor where Terrwyn disappeared to. He didn’t say anything more, knowing Feredir got his meaning.

“With the girl?” the dark elf laughed nervously. He played a good game with his brother, pretending not to care, but deep down Feredir knew he had already considered this. The moment he realized he felt something for her he knew his decision would not be an easy one. Terrwyn complicated things. She always had and now he saw that she always would.

Orthorien dropped the subject and smiled warmly to his brother. “Mother needs you soon, Feredir. She will not sail before you come home, but know that every moment spent waiting for you will slowly become more agonizing. Do not tarry, Brother. Even if you have no solid answer for her, you cannot let her leave without seeing you one last time.”

This changed things and suddenly Feredir thought his recent outburst was petty. His mother meant more to him than anything in Middle-earth. He knew there was still time before she sailed, but he would need to go back to Mirkwood soon. After all his mother did for him, all the ridiculing and abandonment she experienced among her own peers after she returned to Mirkwood, pregnant with another man’s child, she at least deserved a peaceful voyage and hopefully a decision from her half-elven son.
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Journey Of A Butterfly