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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 35 - Lessons

Terrwyn awoke surprisingly refreshed. The sun was shining brightly through her windows, warming her room on this brisk morning. Although the weather had been warmer lately, the good earth sent a reminder that winter was not over yet. Today would be a good day to stay inside and she hoped Master Curuven wouldn’t send her out on any errands. She dressed and went downstairs to find Curuven and Orthorien sitting at the table in the workroom. They were talking quietly, as if discussing something important until they looked up and saw Terrwyn enter the room. They immediately ended their conversation and smiled.

“Good morning, Terrwyn,” Curuven sang. “It is going to be a lovely day today, though a bit chilly for you I’m sure.” He stood up, his smile lighting the room. Master Curuven had been wonderful to Terrwyn during her stay. In fact, it was Curuven and his wife who suggested that Terrwyn be allowed to stay with them indefinitely. Limil hated the thought of Terrwyn alone in the women’s barracks. Besides, she was not a threat. They felt they knew her very well by now and took full responsibility for her, though she still needed an escort if she left the house alone. Since Feredir seemed to have other matters to attend to, Curuven felt Orthorien was just as capable. He was, after all, a high-ranking officer of the Mirkwood army.

Terrwyn smiled at Master Curuven. “The day is just beautiful,” she replied.

“And so is our present company,” Orthorien chimed in, his golden eyes flashing at her from across the table.

The vision of him naked in the washroom skirted across her mind, but Terrwyn held her composure. “You are too kind, Orthorien.” She watched as he brought up two apples from his lap. He placed one on the table in front of the empty chair and held the other in his hand. “Care for an apple?” he asked politely, taking a bite.

She felt her face flush and was unable to speak or move for a long moment. Had he known she was outside the washroom door? Orthorien was the type who revealed things in a subtle manner so that a person wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. He was the most mysterious person Terrwyn had ever met and sometimes she did not know how to react to him, like now. Whether the apple was an innuendo or he was being generous, she could not tell. So, she contained her embarrassment and smiled, accepting the fruit, sitting at the table and taking a bite. Orthorien’s gaze never left her while she did and she knew he had guessed that it was her spying on him through the keyhole. Terrwyn smiled to herself and thought that it was well worth a moment of embarrassment to have seen him as she did. He was a most captivating creature.

“I thought that today we would work on creating certain cures, Terrwyn,” Master Curuven mentioned during their morning talk.

“That would be wonderful. I really wasn’t looking forward to working outside today.” She did not like the cold and this would be a nice change.

“We will start with the basics now that you are familiar with the different herbs and such.” Curuven got up from the table and extended his hand for her to join him, which she did. Orthorien’s gaze never left her and she felt his eyes upon her even as the Master Healer spoke.

Curuven set her up with all the things she would need to make a simple salve. The first thing he taught her was how to properly prepare the ingredients. Some needed crushing and others needed boiling first. While she crushed some sort of seeds into a fine powder, Terrwyn took the opportunity to ask Curuven something that was a constant on her mind.

“Where is Feredir? Has he been assigned to a new prisoner?” she asked trying not to sound too concerned.

“No, but he has become aware of some . . . personal issues that need his attention right now.”

“Oh,” she said sounding disappointed.

Curuven smiled. “You have become quite fond of him haven’t you?”

“I’m not sure fond is the right word. I have just gotten used to having him around is all,” she answered, grinding the seeds a little harder.

“I know he has been hard on you, Terrwyn. He is only doing his duty. It is part of his punishment also, but something tells me he doesn’t see it as thus anymore,” Master Curuven acknowledged.

Terrwyn’s voice became stern and her words sharp. “He has never let me forget the reason I am here.”

“Yes, I am sure he hasn’t, but I also know that Feredir’s feelings for you have--.” Limil burst through the workroom door, interrupting Curuven. Everyone looked at the panicked elleth.

“Curu, my love, a boy in your office comes with word of his mother. It is the cook’s wife, she has gone into labor.” Limil’s tone was full of concern.

“Already? But it is too soon.” Curuven stopped what he was doing and instantly grabbed a bag that contained medicines and tools needed for child birthing. He kept it stocked and prepared for just such an occasion. Turning back to Terrwyn, he waved his hand frantically. “Just keep doing what you are doing.” Then to Orthorien he said. “You have the ability to make a simple salve, do you not?”

“Why yes Master Healer,” Orthorien answered quickly.

“Good, then keep Terrwyn busy with her teachings. I will be back as soon as I can, but it may not be until this evening.”

Orthorien bowed. “She is in good hands.” He smiled politely to the Healer, and then his eyes turned mischievous as he glanced at Terrwyn. She felt a rush of excitement run through her as she thought of those hands and what they might be capable of. The golden elf stood up and went to where she worked. “Right then, simple salves . . . always a good thing to know,” he commented.

“You have made them before I suppose,” she said, making small talk.

“In the field during battle, we must all know how to do this. Sometimes it is all we have to keep us alive until we can get back to camp and a healer.” Orthorien went on to tell her more about life as a warrior. They were faced with perils every day, very dangerous yet somehow he romanticized it and Terrwyn was captivated. They worked and he talked. Both elf and woman were enjoying their time together.

* * *

Feredir went straight to Captain Glandur’s office that morning. He needed to discuss the recent news of his mother. He knew the Captain was going to send him back to the borders, but this might change things. It was not a good idea to put a soldier in harm’s way when there were unresolved family issues to attend. Feredir’s mother awaited his return and that was of utmost importance.

“I understand, Feredir. I will hold off on my orders of reinstatement. Your men will be disappointed, but understanding. How soon do you need to leave?” Glandur hated to see his best soldier leave Ithilien, but hoped it was only temporary.

“Orthorien says there is still time. She has only recently made her decision to sail. However, you know how the sea longing builds over time. I know my mother has only just heard the call and her heart still wishes to remain in Middle-earth. It may be only one sun-round*, two at the most, but she will not leave until she has seen me. I will not be the cause of any pain to her.” Feredir seemed very distant as he spoke, as if this was not the only thing on his mind.

“Then perhaps it is necessary to leave as soon as possible,” Glandur offered.

“Thank you Captain,” the dark-haired elf answered. He turned to leave the office but Glandur stopped him.

“Feredir, will you return to Ithilien? Your talents will be greatly missed if you choose to stay in Mirkwood.”

Feredir smiled. It was a good feeling to know he had a place where he belonged. “This is my home now. I will return, but when I do not know.”

“And what about the girl,” Glandur said softly. He knew this was the young elf’s other concern.

“Things did not turn out as I had hoped. I don’t think it was meant to be Captain,” he answered sadly. Then he looked to Glandur once more with pleading eyes. “You will not stop looking for some kind of proof in her case, will you?”

Glandur lowered his eyes and sighed. “I have not given up hope, but it is getting close to her departure time and still there is nothing much to go by. I have explored every avenue. I have done as much as possible and still remain within my jurisdiction. As you know, this is a matter of Rohirric law, not elven. We cannot overstep our boundaries, but I cannot help but feel there is something we are missing. Someone knows or has priceless information. I just cannot seem to find that person.” Glandur went to Feredir and placed a hand to his shoulder. “Do not go without speaking to her first. I know you and Terrwyn have grown close whether as friends or something more. I know what it is like to let something slip away, but I also know what it is like to stand up for what you believe in.”

Feredir gave a half smile and bowed to his Captain. “Thank you for always understanding, my Captain.”

Glandur once again straightened himself and captured that leader essence. “You will report to me when you have made a decision as to when you will depart?”

“Of course, Captain,” Feredir said in a formal manner. Then he took his leave and headed to Master Curuven’s house.

* * *

“And that is the reason he was reprimanded, all because of three precious hairs cut from his head?” Terrwyn asked, breaking out in a fit of laughter. Orthorien had told her the real reason why Feredir was pulled from the borders and put on guard duty.

“Oh, that is just the story his troops tell to make it more interesting. Actually, he was not following orders, and not the first time mind you. What he did was dangerous and could have resulted in his death or the death of his partner. I don’t know how many times I have told him he must obey protocol, but he has always been the type to follow his own rules when he sees fit.” Orthorien noticed a gleam returning to her eyes as he spoke of his brother. He moved to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder as she worked. She was using the mortar and pestle to grind down some roots. “You will injury your wrist if you do it that way.”

“What?” she said surprised to see him standing behind her. She never even heard him move around the room. “I have always done it this way.”

“If you hold it like this,” he said reaching around her, leaning against her back. “I think you will find it much easier.” He placed his hands over hers and moved them to show her what to do.

His hands were warm and Terrwyn could feel the calloused skin of his palms. They were strong, large and sensuous. They closed around her hands, which seemed to disappear beneath his. His body contoured against her and her back tingled where they made contact. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his long wheat-colored hair falling over her shoulder, mixing with her red locks. The muscles of his arms rubbed against her and she felt them flex as he continued to help her crush the roots. His breath caressed her shoulder. He was so close and she felt herself transcend into that hypnotic state he always put her under. All other sounds in the room seemed to disappear and all she heard was heavy breathing. At first she thought it was Orthorien, but soon realized that is was her own she was hearing. How was it he had this kind of effect on her, she was not sure, but if she gave into it she feared she might lose herself completely.

“Is that better,” he whispered against her neck.

“Uh . . . yes . . . much better,” she stuttered.

He released her, his hands traveling up her arms as he brought them back. Then he moved her hair from her neck, gently lifting it and laying it over the opposite shoulder. Terrwyn mindlessly continued to grind away at the root when she felt his warm lips kissing her neck. She shuddered at his touch, which began to rouse her. It did not take much to fuel her passion, Orthorien noticed, and he wondered just how far she was willing to let that passion go. He lifted his head to her ear and whispered her name in a long drawn out breath.

Terrwyn closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the job at hand, but it did not seem to help much. Behind closed eyes, all she saw was his naked form and those piercing gold eyes bearing down on her. She remembered the forest they had walked through and could smell the pine, as if she were there now. His hands rested at her hips and drew her to him, to his well-built muscled chest. She tried to resist but with little effort.

“Relax love, I will not bite,” he soothingly said against the back of her ear. Then she felt his lips form into a smile. “Not unless you want me to.”

His voice was enough to melt her and she felt every muscle in her body begin to go limp. Orthorien was very good at his craft and as strong as she thought she was, she was unable to resist his charm, his seduction. Terrwyn couldn’t deny the fact that she wanted him, to have an elvish lover, to feel his body cover hers and crush her.

“Orthorien,” she cried, a weak attempt to stop him, but no other words formed. All she could see in her mind was his body, toned and nude, wanting her . . . wanting to take her and--.

Terrwyn was suddenly aware of a lush green forest, like the one she often dreamt of with the fern covered floor. She had always felt a presence there, a longing for someone, and she realized she needed to feel that longing now, but it was not there. Yes, she wanted Orthorien. He was a perfect example of the wildness of elves and no doubt he could take her to great heights, but she didn’t long for him. He could satisfy her, make her body sing with delight, but there would be no afterglow to bathe in. She would only satisfy her curiosity and nothing more. There was something more waiting for her, something lasting and pure. Terrwyn knew who could end this longing and she wanted him still even if he did not want her. He was the only one that could set her world on fire, and the one person that pushed her away every time she tried to get close. What a vicious circle, she thought to herself.

“Orthorien,” she said again, this time with a little more force. “As much as I want this, as good as you make me feel, I . . . I must stop.” The three most difficult words she had ever spoken in a time such as this, but necessary.

The enchanting elf stopped at her first plea. He had hoped that her spirit was free, but understood the reason she refused him. He had felt it in her resistance, what little there had been. Orthorien released her, turning Terrwyn in his arms so she faced him. His face was genuine as he spoke. “I could have made love to you, given you all the answers to this intense desire you hold to know my kind. I sense this about you and I wanted to be the one to show you, but I am not the one who should.” Orthorien knew it, had felt if from the first moment he saw the woman with his brother. She held out for Feredir and no amount of seduction would change her mind. “I hope he is worth it.”

Terrwyn knew Orthorien understood whom her heart longed for. She also knew he loved his brother very much and wanted to see him happy. They may have their differences, but they respected each other. Maybe Orthorien had only been curious too. She smiled and was glad he recognized this and would not push her any further. She was not sure she would be able to resist him again though. Terrwyn learned something about Wood elves. They were very persuasive. “I hope so too,” she answered with uncertainty.

Orthorien caught her chin and gazed into her green eyes. “I would ask for one thing before we promise to never do this again. Will you allow me but one more taste of your sweet lips?” he begged. He captured her with his steely stare and moved towards her. Terrwyn could not stop him, didn’t want to and allowed him to kiss her.

His lips were warm and moist, soft but determined, nothing like the kiss of men. He kissed her as if to give her joy before taking any for himself. Oh, what a considerate lover he would have been, but he was also an elf, a full-blooded elf. She knew he could not tie himself down to just one lover, but the lover he was with would feel as if he was their very own.

“You may be relieved of you duty, brother,” said a voice from the doorway.

Terrwyn gasped and pushed away from Orthorien, who never even flinched at the intrusion. “Feredir,” she said surprised. “I did not expect you.”

“That much is obvious,” he said, but his sight was trained on Orthorien. The golden elf remained silent. Nothing he could say would make the situation any better.

Feredir peeled his eyes away from his brother to gaze upon Terrwyn. Anger turned to desolation, as he felt overruled once again. “You have made your choice it seems, but I still have a duty to attend to.”

Terrwyn was too shocked to respond, but Orthorien left the spot where he stood, making his way to the door. He stopped as he passed Feredir and whispered to him. “Things are not always as they seem, little brother. You have won after all, but if you only look at this as a contest, then surely you are defeated. Not by me though, by your own ignorance.” He touched Feredir’s forearm then left.

Feredir’s eyes drilled into Terrwyn and she couldn’t tell if he was angry, hurt or just doing his duty. She quickly turned back to the workbench, picked up the pestle and started grinding roots again. Feredir took his usual seat at the small table and let his emotions turn into himself as he seethed over the scene he just came upon. Still, he felt he had no say in this. He had no claim over Terrwyn. She was free to choose whomever she wanted, but why did it have to be Orthorien.

A/N: Just a quick thank you to my first reviewer. I don't get many here and I'm grateful to those who do. I hate that I can't respond. I think it's just as important for an author to answer the reader who takes the time to review.
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Journey Of A Butterfly