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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 38 - Life Of A Soldier

Feredir and Terrwyn came down the stairs arm in arm. They approached the bottom and he took her in his strong hold, leaning her back in a slight dip and kissing her. She wrapped her fingers in his thick black hair and sighed when he released her from his hold. Their eyes met in a stare that seemed to last a century. Terrwyn was completely swept off her feet by this elf. She hadn’t thought about much since last night, a well-deserved break from her regularly chaotic life. How she wished she could forget everything and let Feredir become her new world. That was not possible though and the look on Master Curuven’s face further solidified that thought. The Healer was waiting for them it seemed. He held a letter in his hand and regarded Feredir with a solemn face that said it wasn’t good news. Feredir released Terrwyn, giving her one more glance then turned to the Healer.

“This came for you not long ago. It is from the Captain.” Curuven held the letter out to the young elf who slowly reached for it. The yellowed parchment had a wax seal with the symbol of the Ithilien army embedded upon it.

Feredir knew what was in the note. It was the last thing he and Glandur discussed before he left his office that day. He broke the seal and unfolded the paper. At the top in bold letters it said, “Notice of Reinstatement”. He was being called back on patrol. His hand slowly lowered to his side. Terrwyn looked at him curiously.

“What does it say?” she asked reaching out and touching his shoulder. He turned and handed her the letter.

“I have been called back to the border.” His eyes remained glued to the floor in front of him as a disappointed smile forced its way across his lips “For so long I have wanted nothing but to get back to my troops, to get my hands soiled and my blood pounding with the excitement of battle. It is what I do. It is what I have always done.” Feredir reached out and touched the side of Terrwyn’s face. “And after just one night, I find that it is far from the thing I want most.”

A tear came to Terrwyn’s eye. “But you are my guard.” Of course, he was more to her than that now, but these were the only words she could manage to speak.

Curuven walked to her, standing by her side. “Tis the life of a soldier, my dear. He has been called upon. His skills are needed. He must go.”

“But what if my people come for me, will I not see you again?” she asked. Try as she might, she could not quell the panic in her voice.

Feredir wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She heard his heart beating; felt it beat in time to her own heart. “I promise to be here,” he reassured her. Then he pulled away from her, leaned down and kissed her as if it were their last moments together. His love strengthened Terrwyn as she felt it flow though her body. She could not forget her past or run away from the present, but she could still try to control her future. Feredir helped her to forget about this if only for a short while, but there were parts that she could not afford to ignore.

One last glance, one last kiss and Feredir was off to prepare and join his troops at Ithilien’s borders.

* * *

“It is good to see you again, my friend,” Horphen exclaimed as his friend and battle companion joined the gathering army. He gave Feredir a firm pat on the back and smiled warmly.

Feredir returned the smile, but something was missing. The fire he normally had in his eyes seemed less bright and Horphen noticed this right away. “It is good to be back,” Feredir replied unconvincingly.

“Aye, my friend, your words do not match your heart,” Horphen said calling him out.

Feredir was about to protest when someone called out his name. He knew that voice and cringed, closing his eyes and feeling his strength leave him. The young elf spoke as he turned around. “Orthorien, shouldn’t you have left by now? Seems to me you have overstayed your welcome.”

“Maybe to you it would seem so, but as for your lord, the Prince, I am welcome for as long as I like.” The golden elf spoke with an exaggerated swagger.

Horphen gave Feredir a reassuring pat and left him alone with his brother. He knew of the rift between them and had no desire to play witness to it. Feredir stood tall and firm. This was his home, his army. Orthorien was the outsider now. “Come to see me off then?” he said dryly.

Orthorien smiled. “You seem different, brother. I have seen this look before, but never from you,” he said as he circled Feredir. “Ah yes, so it seems you took my advice. You have claimed the girl for yourself.”

“I took no one’s advice, least of all yours,” Feredir answered defensively. He glanced down taking notice of the way Orthorien was dressed. “Why do you wear our armor? What have you talked your way into?”

The older brother laughed. “I needn’t talk my way into anything, little brother. Prince Legolas asked of my services, and while I would rather be comfortably sated in the bed of some fair maiden, I cannot deny the King’s son. I come to join the army. It seems there have been sightings of a band of Easterlings away on the outskirts. They head this way now, a line of wagons carrying men and weapons. They will be ready to fight as soon as they are close enough.”

Feredir glared at his brother and then looked past him to his friend Horphen, who shrugged his shoulders. It seemed there was nothing he could do to change this outcome. “Just stay out of my way,” he growled at Orthorien.

* * *

Everyone was on guard as they waited for the approaching Easterlings. Night had crept in and the lights on their wagons could be seen off in the distance. Feredir stood alongside Horphen, bows ready in their hands and swords at their sides.

“They will not attack at night,” said their troop’s leader. “They know we have the advantage in the dark, but come morning with the sun’s rising, they will be ready.” He walked back and forth speaking to his battalion. “We need to keep watch, should they try anything. We’ll take shifts.” He chose his first men to keep watch, Feredir, Horphen and some others that were close by. One of those was Orthorien.

“Reminds me of days of old, does it not, brother?” Orthorien called to Feredir. “How many nights did we sit at the borders in Mirkwood, patrolling long into the night?”

“More than my fair share,” Feredir answered. His brother used to deliberately set him up as watchman instead of allowing him to join the troops in his younger days.

The black haired elf took his spot in a tree near the edge of camp. The elves built platforms high in the trees for such use. Each one could hold two men. They were camouflaged to look like part of the tree so approaching enemies would not see the lookouts, but the elves could see their enemy long before they got near Ithilien’s border.

Horphen joined Feredir on the platform. His friend had been unusually quiet since meeting him at the gathering. “Is everything alright, Feredir?”

“It would be much better had Orthorien never arrived. I thought my days of living under his thumb were over.”

“I remember how difficult a time he gave you growing up. Why has he come to Ithilien? I never expected him to come this far,” Horphen asked.

Feredir sighed as he inspected the fletching of his arrows. “It is our mother. She has announced her calling. She means to sail soon.”

“Oh,” Horphen answered quietly. “Then you must be going back to Mirkwood soon.”

“Yes, before too long I will need to go, but--.” Feredir stopped himself from sharing any more information. However, this did not detour Horphen’s curiosity.

“I know what stops you. I felt it from you before and I still feel it now. You have given your heart over to someone.” Horphen patted Feredir’s shoulder. “It’s alright you know. It happens to the best of us.”

Feredir smiled. “Everyone but you, my friend.”

“That is because I am too smart to let myself become tied to one elleth. Knowing you though, she is the most alluring creature on this green earth.”

“That she is, Horphen. That she is.” Feredir let his thoughts of Terrwyn simmer in the back of his mind while he watched the torches in the distance.

A little while later, Horphen went to the ground to take care of some personal matters. Feredir remained on the platform, contemplating exactly what would happen next with him and Terrwyn. How could he keep her from going to Rohan and facing this judgment? Where could he find evidence to her innocence? It seemed as though he was out of answers.

“May I join you?” said a voice from the edge of the platform. Orthorien lifted himself up and joined his brother. Feredir did not answer him. His opinion would not matter now.

The brothers sat in uncomfortable silence. Black and gold, they were a contrast to each other, though their features were similar. They both took after their mother’s familiar appearance, but only Orthorien had her eyes. Feredir had his father’s silver eyes, another thing that set him apart from the wood elves. Those eyes now shined in the moonlight as they peered out over the lands.

Finally, Orthorien spoke. “I did not come here to make your life miserable. We had an agreement when you left Mirkwood that I would never again interfere. I mean to keep my part.”

“I thought you would have left by now is all. I never expected you to be here, that is certain.”

“I am only here because the Prince asked me.” Orthorien let the silence flow back in between them for a while before he spoke again. “Mother will be glad to see you. Though she did not show it, I could tell how greatly she missed you when you left. The two of you always did seem to have a special bond, one that I could not share in.”

“She was a bit overprotective is all,” Feredir answered, thinking about his youth. “I imagine it was her idea after all to keep me away from danger as long as possible.”

“Well, yes she did have a hand in that, but I feared for you both. I knew if something happened to me, she would go on. But if something happened to you, I truly believe she would have faded.”

“Do not speak of such,” Feredir whispered. That same thought had crossed his mind many times during his young life. It was something he did not want to revisit, but now he could see its importance. “She expects me to sail one day, to take the life of the elves.”

“Yes, and you have reassured her many times that you would take this path. Have your feelings changed, Feredir?” Orthorien could feel his brother’s reserve.

“No . . . well I don’t . . .” Feredir stuttered.

“And what about the girl,” Orthorien answered for him.

Feredir’s protective wall secured itself quickly. “Terrwyn is none of your concern.”

“It is my concern when it involves our mother. Do you know what it will do to her spirit should she sail and you do not? She will look for you endlessly. It matters not what I tell her. She will always long for her half-blood son and she will not rest even in Valinor,” Orthorien said with a raised voice.

“Mother is stronger than you give her credit for,” Feredir shot back. “But no one ever seems to live up to your standards do they? She was strong enough to stand up to your father and seek a life outside of their confined home. She was strong enough to raise me and ignore the ridicule.”

“She is strong because she has always known you would be there in the end,” Orthorien said defending his opinion. “She is strong, yes, but what about you? The first woman to come along and touch your heart and you are ready to abandon your kin.”

“And since when do you care, Orthorien. All my life I have tried to fit in, tried to make my place in the world. Mother sought to protect me, but even you had your doubts,” Feredir argued.

Orthorien shook his head and looked at the platform between his knees. “I wanted to make you forget your human heritage. Mother always reminded you of it. I told her you should not have joined the new colony in Ithilien. As long as you were with the elves, you could not be influenced by men. She told me to let you find your way and so I made my promise not only to you but also to her. Now I see I was right. Living amongst men has made you more like them, so much so that you would forget where you really belong.”

Feredir’s anger reached new heights with this information. “Where I belong? And do you think I ever belonged in Mirkwood? Do you think the elves ever accepted me as anything more than half-elven?” Feredir got up from the floor of the platform and towered above his brother. “I never belonged. Even you said so yourself. ‘He will never be one of us’, you said. Do you remember, brother? I was there. It was one thing to hear it as an elfling from the other youths, but to hear my own brother say it--.” Feredir turned from him and took a deep breath. “I came to Ithilien with one last hope of finding my way. I earned the respect of my fellow battle companions. I earned the respect of the people of Ithilien. Even our Captain supports me, believes in me.” His voice turned to a whisper. “But my own brother . . .”

Orthorien remembered telling their mother that, but he did not know Feredir was there to hear it. He was only trying to make her see his young brother’s difficulties. “Feredir, I--.”

“With Terrwyn I belong. With Terrwyn, I know my place in this world. I know who I am and what I am supposed to be. She needs me now. She has no one else and I know exactly how that feels. Maybe I have embraced my human half since coming to Ithilien. Maybe I find that this is where I really belong, where I am accepted. You are not in charge of me anymore, Orthorien. This is my life, the life I have carved out for my own, and I will make my own choices without your influence.” Feredir finished speaking and looked out over the land below.

Orthorien got up from the platform floor and stood facing Feredir’s back. “So much more is at stake, Feredir. Should you leave the girl . . . Terrwyn, she will go on to live her life and one day pass from this world as if you never even mattered. But you, should you choose to stay here . . . you will leave behind a trail of sorrow that will be never ending. This is what you have not taken into consideration.” The golden elf climbed over the side, beginning his decent to the ground below. “It is your choice though. I made a promise. Now promise me you will choose wisely, dear brother.” With that said, Orthorien’s golden head disappeared down the ladder.

* * *

The sky was lighting up with the rising sun. A red glow began to slowly spread higher into the far off sky. Someone shouted in the distance. “They are coming. The Easterlings approach the borders.”

The leader of Feredir’s troop yelled to his men to prepare for battle. Armor clinked as it was fastened. Arrows clicked as they were put into their quivers, sharpened and ready for use. Swords made their steely sound as they were sheathed at their owner’s side. The elves lined up on the wall surrounding Ithilien and waited for their foe to approach. Without much warning, the first wave of arrows broke the barrier of the city’s walls.

“Shields,” yelled a captain and every elf raised their own over their head, deflecting the incoming arrows. Then it was the elves turned to fire. Twice as many arrows shot through the early morning sky. The moans and screams from below informed the elves that they hit their mark more than a few times.

Soon, the Easterling’s wagons were against the wall and ladders emerged from them. The cruel men below climbed to the top of the wall and soon hand to hand combat engaged. These men were merciless in their attack, swinging axes, their weapon of choice. It took a great deal more strength to fend off a heavy ax with the lightness of an elven sword. Luckily, the elves possessed such strength.

Feredir fought side by side with Horphen. Easterlings did not stand a chance against this pair. They took their place at the top of one of their ladders, knocking the enemy back to the ground. Those that got past them did not get far. The elven friends were deep in the blood-lust of battle when they were attacked from behind. Horphen caught the edge of an ax blade with his arm and yelled out. Feredir was sparing with a particularly ugly man when he heard his friend call out to him. He turned and saw him lying on the stone floor of the wall. With his attention distracted, Feredir did not see the man behind him wielding his ax over his head ready to chop the elf in half.

“Behind you, Feredir,” Horphen yelled. The dark elf turned just in time to jump out of the way, but in doing so, he tripped over something and fell to his knees. He looked up to see the same man bringing his massive weapon down upon him when suddenly a flash of gold came between him and the wicked man. Orthorien was there, protecting Feredir and fighting off the Easterling. The young elf got to his feet and joined his brother. Together they fended off many attacks, twisting and turning, connecting on a warrior level and fighting as one being.

Meanwhile, Horphen got to a safe place away from the heat of the battle. His arm was badly wounded and hung limp at his side. He was losing a bit of blood and his strength left him quickly. Somehow, over the shouts of battle, word made its way to a healer, who came to help Horphen. While he was being taken care of, he had time to observe all that was going on. That was when he looked down from the wall and noticed two Easterlings who managed to get past the guards. They were using the shadows below to sneak past the elves. Horphen looked over to Feredir and Orthorien just in time to see them stop fighting due to a lull in the action.

Orthorien regarded his brother with disbelief. “I did not know you could fight like this. Such poetry, I am sorry Feredir, but I was wrong to think you had not improved.”

His words took Feredir by surprise. “Thank you Orthorien.” He was baffled and did not know what else to say.

Orthorien held his arm out to Feredir and the two elves grasped forearms. Then the older warrior pulled the younger one in for a brotherly embrace. Feredir finally felt as though he proved himself to Orthorien in some small way. It would not make up for years of not believing in him, but it was a start.

“Feredir, Orthorien,” Horphen yelled. “Down below, two men have breached the border. They are getting away.”

Orthorien looked at Feredir who returned a devilish smile. “Let’s go,” he said and the brothers headed for a set of stairs that led to the ground within the borders of Ithilien. They ran off together, in search for the two Easterlings, hunting down their enemy.
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Journey Of A Butterfly