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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 55 - Revelation

Eomer had his personal guards sweep Terrwyn away to his private rooms. The crowd of people had not yet calmed completely or dispersed. The King worried for her safety at this point and allowed Feredir, Orthorien and Hathmund to accompany her. They instantly dashed into an alleyway and made the long trek back to the Kings’ rooms in Meduseld.

Feredir took her arm, while Orthorien covered her with a cloak he was wearing. Terrwyn was still in a state of confused shock by all that had just happened and remained silent as they hurried along listening to Orthorien’s account of meeting Eomer and rushing to the city. Had Feredir not dashed off ahead of them, she might not have been alive by the time Orthorien appeared. The thought made her shiver. She hadn’t had the time to deal with the hanging or the fact that her brother was suddenly back in her life. Terrwyn wished she could tell them all to stop and let her catch her breath, to let all of this sink in, but she understood the importance of getting away to a secluded place.

They finally reached Eomer’s private rooms and entered through a single heavy wooden door. The guards turned to Orthorien, the tallest of the group, and spoke. “The King requests that you stay here for as long as you need. He will call for counsel once the disturbances of the city have died down.”

Orthorien bowed to the guards and closed the door behind them as they left. The small group looked around the room for a moment, making note of their temporary retreat. This was very much the room of a King, a sitting room, a place to greet and entertain guests. Windows lined one wall, high windows that let a good amount of light into the room. It had tall ceilings held up by wooden columns, much like those in the golden hall, unique carvings of beasts decorating them. Tapestries hung between the windows and on the opposite wall. Terrwyn watched as one tapestry waved gently by a breeze blowing in from an open window. She admired the picture of the late Queen, Eomer’s aunt. She could tell that he came from a long lineage of proud rulers and had inherited the same qualities that proved him a great king.

On another side of the room was a small hearth, a brown bear skin rug splayed out on the floor in front of it. Above its mantle, hanging on the wall were an array of weapons; spears, bows and a pair of gleaming silver swords crossed at the middle. To the left of that were several stuffed creatures, trophies from a successful hunt. The head of a deer and of a wild boar with great white tusks and several quail poised as if they were still in flight decorated this side of the room.

The large room also held a fine looking chaise lounge made of soft leather and other plush chairs that looked like good resting places after a long day of ruling the city. Various shelves housed books and boxes, trinkets and statues, all things that must have accrued over the years by the different kings. It was actually a very cozy room and Terrwyn was thankful.

Orthorien went to a window and looked out over to the mountain range. Feredir led Terrwyn to the sofa and sat down next to her, looking at her wrists where the skin was red and raw. He blew on them and whispered in his foreign tongue. Then he raised his head and captured her stare. She seemed as if she were not there, hidden within herself to protect her mind from all of the recent madness.

“Terrwyn?” he said as his hand cupped the side of her face. She looked right through him, not seeing him before her.

Hathmund stepped in front of where she sat on the couch and got down on one knee so that he was at eye level with her. He took one of her hands and squeezed it. Her eyes focused, though they were still glazed over. Her lips curled into a smile as tears filled her eyes.

“Hathmund, surely this is all a dream and I am hanging from a rope at the gallows.”

Hathmund returned the smile and shook his head. “It is real Sissy. I am here.” Out of habit, he called her by the childhood name he always used, but realized now looking at her closely that she was no longer the little girl he had last seen.

“But how? How did this come to be?” She looked to Feredir who still sat next to her.

“Only by the grace of the Valar could this have happened,” Feredir answered. “The slave Mazzin and your brother Hathmund are one in the same. We did not know until we were well on our way back from Rhûn.” Feredir reached into his tunic and removed the wooden butterfly, handing it to Terrwyn. “It was your little treasure that connected it all. Hathmund saw me holding it as we sat by the fire and recognized it right away.” He placed it in the palm of her hand and closed her fingers around it. “It is back home with its owner where it should be.”

Terrwyn’s tears fell onto her skirt as she looked down and opened her hand. She noticed the charred edges and creased her brows. “What happened to it? It looks as if it has been burned.”

“It is a long story and one I will tell you soon, but not now, Naru.”

Her eyes scanned Feredir’s face and her fingers caressed his cheek. “Oh, how long I have yearned to hear you call me such.” In the same instant, she turned her attention back to her brother. “Hathmund, I have worried for you all this time. I never forgot you. I planned to find you before my life took a turn. There were those that told me to forget you, that you could not possibly have survived all this time, but I knew better.”

Feredir kissed Terrwyn’s cheek and stood up from the chaise. “You need this time with Hathmund. I’m going to go and look for Horphen, but I’ll return.”

Terrwyn looked terrified. “No, please don’t leave,” she begged.

“I won’t be long. I promise.” He leaned down and kissed her head then whispered in her ear. “I will never leave you again.” He took her chin in his fingers and smiled lovingly to her. Then Feredir went to Orthorien, tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for his brother to join him, giving Terrwyn and Hathmund their privacy.

The door closed and Hathmund took a seat next to Terrwyn. They turned towards each other so that their knees touched and held one another’s hands. Hathmund spoke first. “What Feredir said about the Valar is the only explanation I have for any of this.”

“I don’t even know what to say. It is nothing short of a miracle that we are sitting here together again. What happened, Hathmund? What happened the day you were taken?”

He proceeded to tell her how he traveled to the village where their mother stayed behind after sending her children to live with friends. Hathmund checked on her from time to time, giving her any extra money that he had earned. It was during one of these visits that the small town was ransacked by Southrons. He was merely a boy then, but he fought these men with nothing more that the elvish knife. He could only hold them off for a short time and soon they over powered him. Hathmund watched their mother try to protect him, but she was unsuccessful and killed in front of him. He expected to die alongside her, but the Southrons took him, bound his arms and legs and tied him to the back of a horse. The Southron’s took him to Rhûn, where he was starved and weakened, sold into slavery and passed around between some of the smaller clans. There were things that happened to him that he refused to speak of, things he said were not meant for a woman’s ears to hear. Still, Hathmund survived and he assimilated into Haradrim slave culture, making his way through the many deviating levels until he was among the most trusted and obedient servants. He told her of his plans to gather as much information about the Haradrim in Rhûn as he could in hopes of rejoining his countrymen and sharing this with them. “No one else should have to suffer at the hands of these men,” he claimed as if remembering some horrible incident that happened during his slavery. “And what of you, dear sister. What happened that led to this?”

Terrwyn took a deep breath. It had been such a long journey for her; she didn’t know where to start. She shared with Hathmund all of her adventures, from finding their mother’s body to coming to live in Edoras. She spoke of meeting Alric, Taldred and the horrible night in the stables, escaping Rohan and finding Rosloch in the Firien woods. Then she told him about going to Minas Tirith and working there until she was finally captured and taken to Ithilien where she met the elves and Feredir. It was there that she learned about a slave in Rhûn that knew about those blasted letters. “And now, here I sit looking into the eyes of my brother,” she finished.

Hathmund sat quietly, allowing himself to absorb all she said before he continued. “You know, for a while I thought you were dead. The Southrons found out that I had a sister and used that to further break my spirit. They said they went to the village where we lived and found you. They told me of all the horrible things they did to you, and then they killed you. For years, I believed it and I started to feel myself change. I started to think like them, act like them. Part of it was because I thought I had lost everything. I was so confused then, but I think it helped me to survive. They brainwashed me into thinking that there were certain things I needed to do before they would fully accept me into the clan, slave or no.”

Terrwyn stopped him, unable to listen to any more of this torture, but Hathmund shook his head. “No, let me tell you what happened. I need you to know this.”

“Go on then,” she said as she tucked her legs up under her and snuggled into his chest.

“As I said, I thought you were dead and I allowed myself to believe all that the Southrons told me. My master at the time wanted me to prove my loyalty to him and the clan. He sent me out with two other men to complete a task. My reward would be acceptance into the clan and more freedom to move about Rhûn, doing missions for my master. We traveled along the road, far to the south, almost to Gondor. We were told to find and kill a pair of travelers that had been spotted a few days earlier. I couldn’t understand the reason for going so far, but I didn’t ask questions. The men I was with had orders to kill me if I did not follow through.

We spotted them, a man and a woman. My heart sunk to think of having to kill them, but it was necessary for my own survival. We followed them to the edge of the wooded area where they stopped for the night and--.”

“It was you upon the hill,” Terrwyn interrupted. “The man in shadows was you, wasn’t it?” She suddenly remembered traveling to Gondor with Rosloch and the attack. Rosloch had killed one of the men, but two others had captured her and dragged her into the woods. “I remember now. I was about to be attacked when a man hidden in shadows called to them. I sensed something then, but I did not know what it was.”

“When I saw you, I knew it was you,” Hathmund continued. “Suddenly, it all made sense to me. The Southrons sent me to kill you, a last test of my faith to the clan, to Harad. They knew you were my sister somehow. There were always spies about with news of travelers and such. They sent me to kill my own sibling.” Hathmund shook his head. “I could not do it of course and instantly my mind cleared, as if a fog had lifted from my darkened mind. I had a reason to fight again. They would never again break my spirit. My sister lived and I was not alone.”

Terrwyn was amazed by his story. “What did you do? Why did you not come back and show yourself? You could have escaped to Gondor with us.”

“Your life was in danger as well as mine. Your friend killed one of the Southrons, but there were still two more. I called to them, told them to leave you alone . . . that this was my task. Then when they were off their guard, I killed them. By the time I went back to the campsite, you had left the woods and were gone. I would have followed, but another group of Southrons found me. I lied and told them that there had been a fight, that the man you were with killed the others, but that I had finally managed to take him on my own, slashing his throat and killing the girl. They wanted to see proof of this and I thought for sure they would uncover my lie. Again, the gods were smiling down on me. As we approached your campsite, a group of Gondorian border guards appeared and we ran before they found us. I had no choice but to go with the Southrons back to Rhûn. That’s when I swore to gather as much information as I could and plan my escape. I still had a sister out there to protect and if I had to do it while being held prisoner by the Southrons, then I would.”

Terrwyn lifted her head to gaze upon her brother. “It makes my heart break to know we were so close to reuniting. Had I have known it was you--.”

“You could not have known, sister. Do not think about it any longer. We are together now and that is what matters.” Hathmund kissed her forehead and hugged her.

The elves returned and quietly entered the room. Terrwyn looked up from her brother’s arms, her green eyes falling upon Feredir. The look of concern and worry on his face was too much. She needed him, needed to feel him wrapped around her. Hathmund observed the connection they shared and nudged her. “Go to him,” he whispered.

Terrwyn jumped up from the chaise and ran to Feredir, throwing herself against his body. He caught her, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to Eru for giving her back to him. Judgment day was over. She had stood for her crimes and now she was free, free to be with him.

Terrwyn gazed over Feredir’s shoulder to find Orthorien and Horphen standing side by side, watching the two lovers reunite. Horphen looked worn from the burden of having to be the one to watch over her. He had done so much, had been there every day for her. She released Feredir and stepped aside, going to Horphen and embracing him.

“I thought I had failed you, my lady,” he confessed.

“You were truly a blessing and my only link to the outside world, Horphen. I think you saved me from falling into despair when I was locked away in the darkness.” She comforted him in her arms as he did the same for her.

Orthorien closed the distance, placing a warm hand on her back. “We are all glad to have you back with us.”

Terrwyn turned her head towards the golden warrior. “Thank you for all that you have done.”

Hathmund watched from the sofa, observing his sister as she was surrounded by these three tall warrior elves. He remembered her dreams as a child of wanting to live with the elves and realized she had gotten her wish. He smiled to himself, knowing she was where she belonged.

After the brief reunion, Terrwyn went back to Feredir, who wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They walked across the large room back to where her brother sat. Terrwyn had a seat next to him. Feredir creased his brow as a question came to his mind, one he needed answering.

“Hathmund, you told Eomer and the others that Terrwyn was half elf,” he started.

Terrwyn shook her head. “He only said that to further convince them to release me and could have been reprimanded for such a fib. Of course, I am not half elf. I don’t even know why you would say such a thing.” Her eyes scanned her brother’s face for a smile, a shake of his head, anything that would prove she was right. But Hathmund sat very still, no smile upon his lips and his brown eyes firmly fixed upon her. Terrwyn laughed nervously and grasped his hands. “Tell them Hathmund.”

“It is true, dear sister. The blood of the elves courses in your veins,” Hathmund confirmed.

“No,” she shook her head. “It cannot be. Mother and Father . . . I am Rohirrim. I am human.”

“What proof do you have of this? Why did your parents never tell her?” Feredir added.

Hathmund searched for the right words to say before focusing his attention on his sister. “Do you remember back when Mother left us with her friends, when she decided to help rebuild our old village?”

Terrwyn nodded. “She was very depressed then. I wanted more than anything to be with her.”

“I told you how I used to check on her while I was running messages for the Rohirrim. Even then, she was still falling into despair. She was never the same after Father died. Their love was so strong. She would have done anything for him and when he perished, she just did not know how to live without him. I think she sensed this about herself and I think she felt the change in the air. Danger grew ever closer.

During one of my visits, she told me how she had heard word of the Southrons wreaking havoc on other parts of the West. I begged her to leave, to go to the village where you were, but she said she would not run anymore. That was her home and all she had left of Father was within the walls of that place. I think she was ready to die knowing she would be with our father again. She went to her room and pulled a letter out of a drawer, handing it to me. She gave me precise instructions to give it to you when you were a little older and could understand things better and that it was very important that you know what was inside this sealed parchment. I asked her about it of course, but she said it was not for my eyes and that it was up to you to tell me what the letter held.” Hathmund paused and laughed to himself. “You know me, I was never good at following Mother’s rules. I kept the letter for a while, but soon the temptation was too much and I opened it.”

“What did it say?” Terrwyn asked eagerly.

Hathmund settled in next to his sister, ready to tell her the story. Some of the information was his own knowledge and some was from the letter. Over the years, he had managed to piece the two together and now explained it to Terrwyn.

Their parents, Larrwyn and Hathred were so very in love and always had been. They wanted nothing more than to have a family and right away Larrwyn became pregnant with Hathmund. Not long after he was born, Hathred was called away to the borders. It tore at his heart to leave his young wife with a new born, but it was his duty. So he left his wife and son, telling them he would be back as soon as he could. However, he was gone much longer than expected. Larrwyn feared the worst until she finally received word from his Captain that he had been severely injured. They were doing all they could for him at the borders until they felt he was well enough to travel. The news was grim, but at least he was alive. Larrwyn waited restlessly until he came back. Her biggest fear was that he would not survive the journey home. By the time they arrived, Hathred was in grave condition. Larrwyn feared he would die, but at least he was at home with the ones he loved. She stayed by his side day and night with an infant dandling from her hip, caring for her ailing husband. Recovery was slow, but eventually Hathred began to recover. When he was well enough, he told his wife that many times, he felt himself fading into the darkness of death, but Larrwyn’s voice always pulled him back from the abyss. He fought to live for her.

Though he recovered, his injuries needed time to heal and Hathred was relieved of duty for a long while. During that time, he and Larrwyn decided to have another child. They tried for close to a year with no results. Hathred started to realize that he might never be able to give her a child again, most likely due to his injuries. He fell into a depression, said he was not man enough for her anymore. Larrwyn told him this was nonsense, but quietly feared that he would leave her. Matters worsened between them and it was then that Larrwyn made a desperate decision to save her love and her marriage as well as her husband’s pride.

She made arrangements with Hathred’s friends to take him on an extended hunting trip or some other sport that they all enjoyed, hoping it would lift her husband’s spirits, and after some coaxing, he agreed to go. Then she went to her own friends and told them a story about a sick cousin in a neighboring village who asked for her help. The friends agreed to take Hathmund, her young son, while she was away. With all the details taken care of, Larrwyn retrieved her horse and rode off. Where she was going, she did not know. She had no plans from this point forward, only that she must return home within the allotted time.

Larrwyn traveled throughout the Riddermark, searching for a sign. Somewhere within the vastness of this country was a solution to her complications, but she had no idea what she searched for. And then, after traveling quite a distance without seeing a soul, a man seemed to manifest from nowhere, traveling alone. Larrwyn knew at once that he was her answer.

They spent one night together. That was all. That was enough. Larrwyn prayed that his seed took root in her womb. The man told her she would have her wish. Of course, she said there was no way he could have known if she had conceived. That was when he revealed to her that he was an elf. He listened to her story, sensed her desperation and therefore willed it upon her to conceive. He said his own story was too long to tell, but he understood what she was going through, for he too had had to make some similar choices. Now, his time was at an end as he was traveling to the Grey Havens where he would set sail to the Undying Lands. He viewed this affair as his last gift to Middle-earth, to Larrwyn and perhaps even a slight healing of his own soul.

Almost out of time, Larrwyn went back home after the encounter with the stranger and never mentioned a word to anyone. She soon discovered that she was indeed with child. Hathred recovered from his depression after finding out that they would soon have a new addition to their family. Everything fell into place and life went on just as it should have.

“The day you were born, Mother wrote that letter to you and hid it away, just in case she would not have the chance to tell you herself. So yes, Terrwyn, it is true that you are half elven,” Hathmund said as he finished telling all he knew.

Terrwyn sat stunned by this story. She needed something tangible, something to see with her own eyes. “Where is this letter?” she asked.

“It was destroyed, burned by the Southrons when they captured me. I grabbed it right before they took me away and they found it. I was never so glad to have gone against Mother’s wishes, glad I had read it, otherwise you would never have known where you came from.”

There was a knock on the door and Horphen moved across the room to open it. Eomer came in, now relieved of his armor and wearing his usual kingly garb, dark red tunic and black britches. He nodded to the elves and smiled at Terrwyn as he went to where she stood.

“How are you feeling, my lady?” he asked.

“I am still in a bit of a stupor,” she answered.

“You are welcome to stay in my quarters for as long as you need, Terrwyn. You are free to move about the city also, though I would advise you to be cautious. There are still those that disagree with my decision. Edoras may not be the safest place for you at the moment.”

“I understand, my lord. I just need some time to get my thoughts together. So much has happened in so little a time. You have been most gracious and I thank you for your hospitality.”

Eomer smiled and bowed, then turned to Hathmund. “I would like speak with you about Harad and these dealings between the deceased man and this clan you spoke of.”

“Yes, my liege,” Hathmund replied. He turned to Terrwyn and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back in a little while. Rest while I’m gone. We’ll talk more when I return, if you feel up to more conversation.”

Terrwyn smiled and nodded in agreement, and watched her brother follow the King from the room. She folded her hands together, seeming confused as of what to do. Horphen and Orthorien glanced at each other as the same thought occurred to them simultaneously.

“We will give you two a moment alone,” Horphen announced. Then he and Orthorien left.

Terrwyn remained with her back to Feredir, but he closed the distance between them and gently laid his hands on her shoulders. She did not move, did not respond in any way. “Terrwyn, tell me what you are thinking,” he coaxed her.

She shook her head. “Honestly, I do not know what to think, Feredir. I was just moments from swinging from the gallows. I’ve just found my brother that I did not know was alive or not. I’ve been told that I am not the person I thought I was. The man I love dearly and thought was my father has no blood relation to me at all.” She moved away from Feredir and he brought his hands back to his sides. “A moment ago I was on the verge of death and now I’ve been told I may be immortal.”

“Don’t you know what this means?” Feredir went on. “It all makes sense now, Terrwyn. All those dreams, your senses, our connection, it was more than just coincidence. You and I, we are the same.”

“I am not sure I want this,” she retorted. “I suppose I have the same choices as you now.”

Feredir smiled and moved in front of her. “And we can make this choice together. Just think, we can live here in Middle-earth for as long as we want and then sail--.”

Terrwyn shook her head. “You just assume I want what you want. Can you actually stand here and expect me to follow you with any decisions you make?” Her anger rose as her feral eyes turned on him. “I can’t even wrap my mind around this yet, and you have already figured out our future.” She shoved him away from her. “I can’t do this now, Feredir. I need time . . . alone.”

“But Terrwyn, I did not mean--.”

“I have to get away from all of this. I need time to think and I cannot do that around you.” She turned away and ran to the door, grabbing the cloak from a peg on the wall.

“Terrwyn, please,” Feredir begged.

“No, Feredir. Do not follow me. Let me be. I . . . I need to get away from this. Please, just leave me alone.” Her voice broke with her last words as tears pooled in her eyes. Terrwyn exited the room and ran down the hallway until she found a door. She quickly slipped into the cloak, covered her head and left the King’s rooms. She found herself outside, the sun sinking behind the mountains. Terrwyn walked at a quick pace down a set of stairs that emptied to the streets of Edoras.

Where could she go, she thought. There was a time when the stables gave her a sense of relief, but now they only brought back horrible nightmares. Alric had been her other sense of security, but he had died a few years back. But wait . . . there was one place where she could go. Taldred and Lindiel would take her in, at least she hoped they would. It was the only place she could think to go, so she went off to her old home, Alric’s old home that she gave to Taldred when she left Rohan. She just needed some time alone to think and contemplate everything that had happened to her today.
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Journey Of A Butterfly