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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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- 34
Chapter 33 - Son Of A Hero

Feredir’s mother was a beautiful elleth, married to one of the kingdom’s best soldiers, a handsome warrior named Alagon. He was as fierce and admirable as any of his Mirkwood kin, with sun gold hair, tall, muscular and oft times dangerous. He had made his way high into the ranks of the Mirkwood army and became a captain to one of King Thranduil’s largest battalions. If ever there were an attack on the city the King relied on Alagon and his men to be at his side before all others.

Very soon after their marriage, the couple was blessed with their first child. Alagon’s pride was boundless as he held him and looked into his infant son’s alert eyes. His wife insisted that the moment they first made contact, a bond was insured between them that would never be broken for any reason. All of Alagon’s strength and fierceness poured into the child in that instant and a new warrior was born. His father named him for what he would one day become, a conqueror. And so the child was called Orthorien.

When the young elf was old enough, and not a day too soon for his father, Alagon started training Orthorien. He hand carved a practice knife and sword for him, but the bow he made was real and scaled to fit a child’s arm. He would waste no time in introducing his young son to the essential skill of archery. Every day Alagon was home from the borders, he spent with Orthorien, teaching him all his crafts, pressing him hard if he failed to give his all and praising him when he surpassed a certain goal. When other elflings were learning to manage their balance in the trees, Orthorien was hitting center target, splitting his own arrows in two. He became one of the youngest archers to serve in Thranduil’s army, aside from the King’s own son.

However, as the proud father poured all of his energy into bringing up his only son to be nothing less than the finest warrior in Mirkwood, he neglected his duties as a husband. It was not that he did not love his wife, for she was his world at one time. Alagon became single minded in his zeal to raise their son and Laveth was often forgotten. When her husband was away at the borders, she took Orthorien aside and tried to teach him about other things besides fighting, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Alagon made sure this was her son’s main goal, to be the best warrior.

Laveth was alone quite often once Orthorien had grown. She worried often for her son and husband. It was hard enough having a bond mate who was always in the way of danger. Now she had her son to worry for too. She longed for another child, but Alagon said it was not a good time to bring a new life into the world. The tides were turning and evil grew. Many callous and bloodthirsty creatures roamed their precious woods lately. Rumors of war were in the air. Laveth’s husband would not hear of it, creating a new life when their futures were so uncertain.

“What if something should happen to me?” Alagon told her often. “How would you raise an elfling alone and during such tumultuous times?”

“If you will not give me a child, then I must do something to fill my days. You are never home and now that Orthorien is grown, I never see him either,” she argued with her husband.

“Something tells me you have come to your own decision. What do you propose?” Alagon questioned.

“I have applied for a position working in the royal palace,” she said proudly.

Alagon wrinkled his brow. “No wife of mine will be a servant,” he insisted.

“That is not my goal, dear husband, but it may be necessary in order to do what it is I have longed to do for a while now.” As Laveth spoke, she softened her voice, put on a winning smile and calmed her husband by gazing into his blue eyes. “I want to travel.”

Never had their household been more quiet than in that one moment. Finally, after the initial shock wore away, Alagon spoke. “Travel ! How do you expect me to approve of this? It is a dangerous place beyond our borders. Why in all of Arda would you want to leave the Greenwood?”

“It has always been a dream of mine, and I know I would be given the opportunity if I worked for the royal house as a trader’s assistant.” As Laveth explained the job to Alagon, she became very excited. “The King cannot get everything he needs from just Lake Town. I know for a fact that he reaches far beyond Greenwood, looking for the most unique and luxurious items to add to his collection. And people would trade almost anything they owned just to possess a small trinket that belonged to the great Elven King. Thranduil will never do this menial task and sends consultants with a trained eye who will know things of great value from that which is common. I want to learn this trade for myself. I know I can do it, Alagon. I have kept this house afloat by making trades and bargaining for the best things that benefit my family. I want to expand my talents and do the same for our King and his family as well.”

Alagon remained quiet and listened intently to every word she said. “And we still need your talents here at home,” he stated.

“You are never home Alagon, and now that Orthorien has made rank, he is never here either. I sit home day after day in an empty house, worrying and waiting for you both to return safe and unharmed. I need to have my own adventures now.”

“I do not like it,” Alagon demanded.

“I am doing this with or without your support,” Laveth protested angrily.

And so it came to be that Laveth followed through with her idea and gained employment in the palace. Though she did indeed start out as a simple servant, she (much like her husband and son) worked hard and made her way to her dream. She became an assistant to the head trade’s dealer. She traveled many times to Lake Town and bartered for many different things from exotic fruits to colorful cloth. It was during one of her last visits that the King himself took notice of her ability to haggle with a client until they had the best trade possible. Thranduil called to his consultants, sending them on a new errand. The King had learned of some of the finest silk ever woven. It was far off in the realm of Gondor, made from the silk of the rarest of caterpillars. Other’s had offered to trade barrels of their finest wine, jewels and much more but without any success. They were all told the silk was so difficult to procure that there wasn’t anything of great enough value to offer in trade.

“Laveth has proved herself to be quite a negotiator,” Thranduil said to his traders. “Give her this chance to bring home even a small sample of this silk. Should its maker part with the slightest amount, then it will open up an avenue for more. If anyone can break the maker’s resolve, it would be Laveth,” King Thranduil commented.

That night, when Laveth told Alagon where Thranduil was sending her, he protested yet again. He complained that she was never home, always working for the royal family. She reminded him that this was the same royal family for which he worked and for whom he put his own life in peril. They argued long into the night, wasting one of the few times they were home alone and together, but Laveth felt she needed to stand up for herself. She would live in her husbands’ shadow no longer. He would never understand. The next day, Alagon left for the borders and Laveth left for Gondor, neither one settling their differences.

* * *

Gondor was alive and busy with an invisible energy. Laveth was completely surprised at the enormity of its White City. Compared to Mirkwood, it was overwhelming and she was in awe. She went with her companions to the home of the textile maker where she met Callo, a broad shouldered, tanned skinned man with black hair and a very warm smile. She liked his name too, meaning ‘hero’, but wondered why a weaver would be so named. What Laveth noticed more than anything was his silver eyes. They were striking and caught her quite by surprise. She had never seen eyes so colorless yet so radiant. No human she had yet encountered was adorned with such eyes and she caught herself staring. Embarrassed, the elleth turned away, feeling the need to shrink into the background.

Callo was a man of Gondor with blood ties to the Numenoreans, which meant he had unnaturally long life. For a man at the age of sixty-seven, he looked quite young and handsome. He was a widow, his wife passing unexpectedly from illness some ten years ago, leaving him childless. He lived a quiet life now, but that was not always the case. He had been a fierce warrior at one time, but tragedy struck when he accidentally and fatally wounded his lifelong friend. They were surrounded by goblins and things got very confusing. What Callo thought was an enemy behind him turned out to be his friend. He had run his sword clear through his friend’s chest, all the way to the hilt. When Callo tried to remove the sword, the dying man grasped his hand, which still held the sword, and whispered to him his forgiveness, saying it was his time to leave the world. Callo was devastated for he knew it could have all been avoided had he just listened to his commander in the first place, but Callo and his friend were very adventurous and sought to be heroes among their brothers in battle. Everyone told Callo it was not his fault, but the guilt threatened to destroy him. He left the army permanently and married a common girl whose family business was in the art and trade of textiles. Callo put his sword away for a loom and a life less violent and settled for a quiet life, hoping his unfortunate fame would die away quickly.

Now, many years later, he stood in his small home, a company of elves at his doorstep. They wanted something from him that he was not sure he could part with, a very rare silk, which only existed because of his wife’s curiosity with insects. It was she who discovered the rare caterpillar and wove the first sample of silk. Callo continued her tradition, but only made it for very special occasions. He had to know that its new owner would cherish his silks and not want it for their own greed. Each piece was a labor of love to Callo and he would not sell his fabric to just anyone.

He spoke with the elves from the far land of Rhovanion. They did their best to describe their King and his good intentions, but Callo distrusted them. Finally, Laveth stepped up and did her best to negotiate with the man.

It had been many years since his wife’s death, but no woman ever filled the void her absence left. Yet, here stood this beautiful elf, long golden hair that curtained her waist, eyes as blue as sapphires and the fairest most beautiful face he had ever seen. She intrigued him and he wished to spend more time with her, but the other elves seemed to be in a hurry to purchase what they came for and get back to the safety of their forest home. Eventually, Callo made an agreement with them. They could purchase some of his silk, but it had to be newly made. He would not sell them something already created. He told them that every piece was special to its owner and the only way he would know what to make was to get to know the King better. However, since the King himself had not come to Gondor, he would have to settle for the knowledge of one of them. He chose Laveth, saying he saw something in her that he trusted. The other elves wanted to discuss this amongst them, but Laveth took it upon herself to make the decision to stay and tell Callo all he wanted to know about her beloved King Thranduil.

For the next few weeks, Laveth went to Callo’s home and spoke with him. She answered all of his questions about her King as she watched the man create the silk. He said he was making it into a robe, which he felt the King would enjoy more than any other article he could make of it.

The elleth and the man became quite close, learning much of each other’s pasts and wants and needs. Laveth told him the most intimate details of her life, even her longing to conceive another child, but her husband would not allow it. Callo told her of his sorrow to never bring a child into the world and told her she was fortunate to already have one child. An attraction grew between them and one night, and the last night before the silk robe was finished, Laveth and Callo made love. As she lay in his arms, he asked her to stay with him, to leave her life behind. He would treat her like a queen, give her the life and the love she’d always longed for. Laveth was heavily swayed by his sweet words, but in the end she declined his wonderful offer. She came to regret her decision many times over. And so, with a heavy heart, Laveth parted with her elven company the next morning. Before they left, Callo asked to speak with her one more time. They took one last walk through a garden they used to frequent. He told her his offer would always stand if she should ever change her mind. Then he placed his hand on her belly and told her she would have a son. Laveth laughed and told him there would be no child for she had not willed it. Callo smiled and kissed her once more before releasing her to her company. As the elves mounted to leave the White City, Callo whispered to her. “I hope I will meet him before it is my end,” he told her as she sat upon her horse.

During the journey back to Mirkwood, Laveth did indeed come to realize that Callo was correct. She was with child. Panic set in. What would she tell Alagon? She had shamed him and her family by having this affair. She knew she should have never let things go so far, but how many years had she spent lonely and waiting for her husband to come back. Then there was the argument they had on the eve of her departure.

Laveth took this time to come up with a plan, and one finally came to her. She would seduce her husband, give him plenty of wine, spend a night making love to him and tell him they willed a child. It was the only way this would work and if she worked quickly, the timing would still match between conception and birth. There was just one thing that worried her. The child would be half-elven and there was a great possibility that he would be more human than elf. His ears could be rounded for one. Laveth prayed that he would look like an elf, otherwise her plan would fail. Still, she thought about Callo and his offer. Could she really leave Alagon and Orthorien? Could she give up her life all for the sake of this unborn child?

The travelers returned home and met with their King, giving him the silk robe. He was very happy with his new prize. It was beautiful beyond anything he’d seen. It was colored in greens and browns with golden runes running along the collar and down the front. Around the bottom were white beech trees, the symbol of the King’s forest home. Depending on the lighting, it seemed to change color. Later, Thranduil learned that it even seemed to change with the seasons, or maybe the placement of the sun in the sky. In summer, the greens were brighter and in winter the white trees blazed like the sun shining on fresh snow. This robe was truly both precious and magical, a most wondrous treasure indeed.

Laveth went home, expecting to find Alagon waiting for her. He was always waiting for her when she went away on business, though this was the longest she had ever been gone. With a bottle of the finest Dorwinion wine, (a reward from Thranduil for a job well done) and her plans fresh in her mind, she entered her house. She called for her husband, but he did not come. Where could he be? Was it possible that he was still upset over their last argument? They did not part on such good terms and that weighed heavily on her mind the entire time. She made herself comfortable and waited for Alagon to come home. Any minute he would be walking through the door, she thought. Eventually she drifted off into a light sleep.

Later, she awoke to a knock on the door. Laveth looked around hastily. The wine bottle was still full and the glasses never used. Alagon had not come home yet. Maybe he was still on duty. Whoever was at the door was probably there to relay a message from her husband. That was fine. She was too tired to follow through with her plan anyways. It could wait for another day. She answered the door and found one of the border guards from Alagon’s battalion. She smiled and called him by name before inviting him in. The fair elf looked very distraught and Laveth instantly started to worry. “What is it? Tell me?” she demanded.

The guard proceeded to tell her of the fate of her husband. He should have been home at the time she expected, however there was a surprise attack. The troops were not prepared, thinking they extinguished the problem. Somehow, a group of orcs slipped by their security and attacked when the elves were most vulnerable. The elf continued on, telling her how brave Alagon was, how magnificently he fought, but in the end he would not survive the night. While Laveth waited on her couch for her husband to come home, he lay on the forest floor surrounded by his brothers in arms and gave up his soul to Mandos.

Not long after, Orthorien returned home and he and his mother grieved for the loss of Alagon, but there was still one thing she had to deal with. Laveth told Orthorien about the unborn child and how it came to be. Her son was devastated by the news at first, but his mother was already in such turmoil he could not bring himself to add to her weariness. He decided he would help raise him, take seriously the role of being an older brother and teach the child as much as he knew. Laveth protested, saying it was not his burden to bear, but Orthorien insisted. They were family and family supported one another. He had no idea how much support they would need then, and soon learned just how difficult it would be.

It did not take long for word to spread about Laveth’s pregnancy. She would not hide it and showed it proudly. Everyone knew this could not have been Alagon’s child and rumors spread quickly. Everyone from dwarves to King Thranduil himself was named as the father of the child. Still, Laveth remained silent. It was her own business who the father was. It wasn’t until the child was born that she confessed to her affair with a Gondorian.

What a bittersweet day it was, the day the child was born. Just as Callo predicted, Laveth gave birth to a son. He was absolutely beautiful from his ten little toes to his pointed ears. He looked every part the elf that she prayed he would, but his hair . . . he had his father’s black locks. Then the babe opened his eyes and looked at his mother. Laveth fell in love all over again. Tiny silver eyes shined in the morning sun that filled the room. They were his father’s eye in every detail. Laveth would never be able to look at him and not think of Callo. She came to understand just how special this Gondorian man was to her and she vowed to let father and son meet some day.

Laveth stared down at her newborn child. She stroked the black fuzz on his tiny head and smiled. “Feredir, that will be your name,” she said. “You will be strong and determined like your father, yet compassionate and caring. I suspect you will also have his warrior’s blood coursing through your veins, but you are also part wood elf. Twice the warrior you will be.” She held him close to her, letting him suckle on her breast, the first nutrients filling his tiny body. “They all know you are not a full blood elf, I’m afraid. You will have to fight hard to prove yourself to them. It is my only regret, but you should be raised as an elf. Your father would take us in and love us to no end. Still, you belong here amongst the trees, amongst your people. You are and will always be my little elfling, Feredir, and I love you more than life itself.”

She could have shriveled up inside herself, but Laveth would not let her husband’s death affect her to the point that she despaired. She missed him greatly, of course. The guilt of her affair was hard to deal with. Knowing her and Alagon left not with love, but with harsh words weighed heavily upon her soul, yet she was a new mother again. She had a baby to raise, to teach the ways of the wild elves. Not until she was sure he was ready to be completely on his own would she even consider sailing. Feredir would need her and Orthorien to see that he was not discouraged by the treatment of others, and he would grow into the elf that he was meant to be.
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Journey Of A Butterfly