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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 34 - Kisses and Keyholes

Feredir stood alone in the herb garden to ponder his thoughts after his outburst with Orthorien and Terrwyn. He had to begin contemplating a decision and along with that came a huge responsibility. It made almost no sense to him why he fretted this choice. There was ever only one choice . . . to live as an elf. Why, when his mother had announced her coming departure, would he begin to question that choice? Feredir looked up at the second story window. There was his answer. The yellow curtains, tied back on either side, moved slightly and he saw a shadow disappear. Terrwyn was watching him. Again, he was racked with guilt. He acted out against her, jealously consuming him. But why?

Just the thought of Terrwyn with his brother made his anger rise, Orthorien . . . his older brother, his protector . . . his bane. No matter how far Feredir went, his brother would always come and devour his dreams, quash his existence. At times, he felt more like a father than a brother to him. When Feredir was young, Orthorien was always there, teaching him how to be a warrior, attacking those that would try to break his young brother’s spirit. As he grew, he thought Orthorien would fade slowly into the background, allowing Feredir to grasp at his own goals, finish his accomplishments with no outside help, but it was just the opposite. Orthorien constantly pushed him to do better, to reach further. Nothing was ever good enough. Feredir remembered the time he secretly overheard his brother speaking with their mother, telling her he would always have a difficult time because he was not one of them. At that very moment, Feredir knew that no matter what he did or how much he improved Orthorien would never see him as an equal. That hurt him more than he could ever understand and so he started separate from his brother. It was difficult enough having to prove himself to those who were not family, let alone having to deal with a brother that would never accept him for who he was. And so started the rift between the brothers and Feredir’s goal to one day surpass Orthorien in his own eyes.

“She will be expecting an apology I suppose,” Feredir said to himself as he glanced up at Terrwyn’s window. Something caught his attention, movement in the far corner of the garden. He looked over and saw a robin; the first signs of spring had already begun. She would be gone soon. He needed to reconcile with her, so he made his way into the house and up the stairs.

Feredir knocked softly on her door. There was no answer so he knocked a little louder. “Come Terrwyn, I know you are in there.”

“I am not speaking to you,” said a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

“I do not need you to speak to me. I will do all the talking. Please let me come in or you come out, whichever you prefer,” he pleaded.

The latch clicked and the door slowly opened. Feredir’s breath caught when she finally came into full view. She was absolutely radiant wearing a pale yellow dress, the skirt ruffled and deliberately bunched up in places. It was cinched at the waist, showing off her slim body and accentuating her bosom. It hung off her shoulders showing her flawless skin, lace and little white flowers lining the edge of the neckline. Her hair hung down to her waist and a single braid on each side of her temple ran along to the back, keeping her hair out of her face. Feredir had never seen her look more beautiful for all he had ever seen her in was the colorless shirt and leggings she wore every day. His eyes scanned her body and he was about to let a smile slip onto his lips, but the look on her face reminded him why he was here in the first place.

“Why have you come, Feredir?” she said sternly.

“Why are you dressed as such?” he countered.

“I dress how I like when my work is done. The garden has been tended,” she retorted.

It was obvious that she was in no mood for small talk so Feredir got right to the point. “What I said out there, the way it sounded . . . I did not mean it and I sincerely apologize.”

“But you did say it and it is not the first time. I thought we were past this. I thought you were--. I thought I was--.” She stopped herself before it turned into a yelling match and looked to the floor. In a softer voice she spoke. “I cannot continue on like this. You have played with my emotions until I am drained.”

Feredir sighed heavily. “Terrwyn, I am sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I was so excited to see you again and then . . . then there you were with Orthorien and I--.”

Terrwyn narrowed her eyes. “That is it isn’t it? You cannot stand to see me with someone else, least of all your brother. There is something going on between the two of you. I felt the tension in the air. You can’t stand to see me happy,” she said accusingly.

“I want to see you happy, just not with my brother.”

“What is the harm? I think Orthorien is very kind and courteous. You could learn a thing or two from him.” Terrwyn had no idea how her words affected Feredir, as if a flaming red sword was thrust through his heart, burning him from the inside out.

He took a deep breath to keep himself from ridiculing her again. “I came to apologize and I have done so. Do what you like, but be forewarned, Orthorien is not who he seems. He will break your heart,” he warned. “Oh, and it looks like there is news from the elf scouts who returned from Rohan.” He took the parchment from his shirt pocket and handed it to Terrwyn. “It is not good, but not altogether bad either. The Captain says he will not give up.” Without giving her time to respond, Feredir left her room in haste, before he said anything more that he would later regret.

The door slammed and Terrwyn was left standing there. “You cannot break something that is already broken,” she said to herself, wishing she could have told him that. Could it be that Feredir really did care about her? He came to her room to apologize. And what was this hostility between him and Orthorien? None of this probably mattered anymore. Feredir was once again angry with her, like he seemed to be most of the time. She unfolded the paper and read, sad to hear the news that someone else had died, whether by accident or intentionally. Still, this was not enough information to keep her out of the noose. It all seemed like a waste of time to her.

There came another knock on her door. “Go away, Feredir,” she yelled. “I told you I don’t--.”

“It’s not Feredir, my lady. It is Orthorien,” he called through the door. “May I speak with you?”

Terrwyn shook her thoughts away and answered the door. “What a delight, Orthorien. Do come in.”

His smile was radiant and contagious as Terrwyn found herself returning the joyful expression. “Master Curuven says he has an errand for you to run and has agreed to let me escort you, so long as you allow me to take rest at some point, preferably in a quiet garden or such.” His voice was so smooth that he almost seemed to sing.

Terrwyn was still ruffled from her argument with Feredir and a walk with Orthorien sounded like just the change she needed. “I would very much like that. I will meet you downstairs in a moment.”

Orthorien took her hand and lightly kissed it. “I’ll be waiting,” he whispered and his voice echoed in her head. Why was it he had this effect on her?

Terrwyn looked in her mirror, fixing any stray hairs that had come loose. She smiled. “Fine, Feredir, if you want to play a game, then let us play.”

* * *

Orthorien was once again a perfect escort. For the third day in a row, Master Curuven allowed him to join Terrwyn in her outings. She was not quite sure why and wondered where Feredir was. It was still his duty to guard her, yet he had made himself invisible. It was probably for the best and Orthorien was wonderful company. He shared with her stories of his battles against all kinds of creatures. It sounded like a very exciting and dangerous thing, being a soldier in Mirkwood.

They had just dropped off an order at the apothecary shop when Terrwyn noticed Orthorien wince. “Is it that wound? Is it giving you trouble?”

“A little,” he smiled. “But it is much better than it has been,” he answered, rubbing his thigh.

Terrwyn’s eyes traveled to his hands as they massaged his muscular leg. Her heart missed a beat before she regained herself. “Perhaps we should rest a bit before returning. We can go to the garden again if you like.”

“And a very lovely garden it is, my lady. The Lord of Ithilien and its people have done a fine job of restoring these lands. However, I think I long for something a little more to the liking of a wood elf, a forest perhaps.”

“Oh,” she said surprised. “Well, yes there are the woods on the opposite side of town, but if your leg is bothering you--.”

“I will manage if you do not mind the detour,” he smiled, his golden eyes capturing her once again.

“I do not mind at all. Come, I know a shortcut.”

Before long Orthorien and Terrwyn were in the forest and the elf breathed a sigh of relief. “My, there is nothing better than the smell of pine to clear one’s mind.”

Terrwyn followed suit and breathed deep. “It is quite refreshing, isn’t it? I’m afraid I had not noticed.”

“For an elf, every tree has its own aura. We can smell them from miles away and know just what kinds of trees grow in different woods, but pine, that is one of my favorites.”

Terrwyn closed her eyes and smelled the air again. “I see what you mean. I feel very relaxed all of a sudden.”

“It is good to see you like this. You seem very tense lately. Tell me, what is bothering you, my lady?” Orthorien took her hand and led her to a small clearing away from the busy garden not far from the edge of the forest. “It is my brother, isn’t it?”

Terrwyn did not want to think of him right now. She was feeling too good to fill her head with the sound of his voice yelling at her. “He has been hard on me, but he is my guard. I guess it is part of his job,” she went on defending him.

“It seems to me there is more than just the connection of a guard and his ward.” Orthorien stood so close to her, she could feel the heat emanating from his body, warming her as it did.

“Honestly, I thought there might have been at some point, but now I do not think so,” she answered sadly.

Orthorien lifted his hand and ran his finger along her jaw. “Then you will not mind if I do this,” he whispered, catching her chin and tilting her head up. His lips slowly covered hers then lifted. She did not resist and he kissed her again, this time a little harder making her respond. Orthorien finished the kiss and moved back to look at her. Terrwyn’s eyes were still closed, lips parted as if still kissing him. He smiled to himself at how easy it was to bring about a response. She was a very willing subject, but she also had feelings for his brother. They may not admit it, but something was stirring between them. Orthorien was no fool. He knew Terrwyn only allowed him this attention to retaliate against Feredir, but she was just so pleasing to be around that he did not mind.

After a little more walking amongst the trees and a few more stolen kisses, the last one ending with Orthorien’s hand ‘accidentally’ brushing past the side of her breast, they parted the woods and came back to the Healing House. Feredir was there with a scowl on his face as he watched the two of them laugh and smile. Orthorien’s hand rested on her waist and she did not seem to mind the intimate contact. Terrwyn glanced at Feredir, but quickly looked away. She did not like this, but Feredir did not dispute it either.

As they passed Feredir sitting at the worktable in the back room, Orthorien winked arrogantly at his brother. Then he led Terrwyn to the stairs, said his goodbyes, gave her hand a lingering kiss and watched her climb the steps. He sighed and turned around, walking back and joining Feredir at the workbench. He smiled that sickly grin that made Feredir want to punch something. “What a lovely girl. I do hope she is acquitted of her mistakes. She refuses to tell me, but I cannot see what someone like her could have done that was so wrong.”

“She murdered someone,” Feredir commented dryly. He expected to hear a gasp or something similar from his brother.

The older elf thought Feredir was only jesting. The smile never left Orthorien’s face as some wicked thought came to mind. “What a way to die then.”

This angered Feredir. “Why are you still here Orthorien? You have delivered your message. Your leg is healed. Shouldn’t you be on your way back home? I’m sure Mother is waiting for your return.”

“I have some time before I must get back. And besides, I told our King I would report back on all the new improvements that his son the Prince has made.” Orthorien gave Feredir a smug look.

“I think you can do that without entertaining the girl,” Feredir said through clenched teeth.

“If you care so much then why do you not go after her, brother?”

Feredir had enough and without answering, he left Orthorien sitting and the table while he left the house for some fresh air. The fact was Feredir’s confidence was lower when his brother was around. Those words, ‘he will never be one of us’ resonated through his mind every time he tried to build up his courage. It was pointless. Terrwyn was falling for Orthorien and that was all. He had lost her before he even had her. He made the decision to visit his old haunt, a place he had not been since his last night with Feona, his last night with any female as a matter of fact.

Terrwyn was settling in for the evening and made one last trip to the kitchen for a bite of fruit. She picked up an apple and headed back for the stairs. As she passed the washroom, she noticed it was occupied and didn’t think much of it until she heard singing coming from inside. The elvish words floated past her ear, making her stop and listen. There was nothing more romantic than listening to an elf speak in his own language. Whether it was a poem about love or a curse for one’s death, the way the words rolled off the tongue made her skin prickle. She felt that now as she listened to a certain Mirkwood elf singing from the washroom.

Terrwyn looked around. The house was quiet. No one stirred but for her and Orthorien. She leaned her head towards the door and listened, wondering what he was singing about. It did not matter and she closed her eyes letting the words soothe her. She heard the rustling of clothes from behind the door. He was undressing. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to let the thoughts she was having get too far out of control. Just a peek, she thought and leaned down putting her eye to the keyhole.

There he stood next to the tub, shirtless and unbraiding his hair. His long golden hair hung down his back to his waist. Iron muscles moved beneath the smoothness of his back. His hand reached into the tub, swirling the water, and he sat down on the edge. The elf started singing again and Terrwyn felt herself go into a trance. Orthorien’s arms looked as if he could crush an enemy’s skull with little effort or hold a lover with such a tender embrace. Terrwyn wondered how many elf maids had fallen prey to those arm’s holding them against his well-developed chest. Nothing was out of place; he was perfect to the eye.

He finished his song and stood up again, hands reaching for the laces of his leggings. His back was turned to her now and she noticed how the material contoured his fine buttocks. Then he started to peel the leather britches off. Terrwyn gasped and moved away from the keyhole. What was she doing? This was wrong. She stood up straight and again heard him sing. Not able to help herself, Terrwyn bent down again and looked through her secret hole.

He was stepping out of the pants, bending slightly. His long hair fell forward, all but that which stuck to his back from the moisture on his skin. Oh, but he was magnificent. His rear was taut and sculptured, curving just at the right places. Strong muscled thighs flexed, the kind that could trap a girl. He turned sideways and Terrwyn’s mouth dropped. So it was true what they said about the elves. They were blessed in every way possible and Orthorien was no exception. Even soft as he was now, he was rather big and she wondered what he looked like when aroused. He walked to a chair to place his clothes there, his elfhood swinging gracefully. Terrwyn licked her lips and continued to watch him step into the tub, easing himself into the water. As the warm water enveloped him, he moaned. Then he looked to the door. She could have sworn he smiled slightly, as if he knew she was watching. Terrwyn wasn’t paying attention when she stood up and dropped the apple she was holding, making a very loud thud. She heard water splash from behind the door. Orthorien was getting out of the tub. She left the apple and ran for the stairs. By the time the bathroom door opened, she was already at the top and out of sight. She breathed a sigh of relief that she was not caught.

That night, Terrwyn went to sleep with visions of Orthorien running wild through her hungry mind. What a magnificent elf, she thought and wondered about Feredir. What must he have looked like beneath his uniform? She blew out the candle and her hands disappeared beneath her nightgown.
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Journey Of A Butterfly