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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
- 63
- 64
- 65
Chapter 64 - Master Remlas

Terrwyn made her way through the corridors of the palace, arriving at one of the upper halls. It was located next to the dining hall, which Terrwyn knew her way to. This spacious room housed many vibrant tapestries portraying ancient cities of long ago. Some depicted elves that Terrwyn did not recognize. One in particular caught her attention as he had an air of familiarity about him. It made her think of Legolas, yes that was it. She remembered the Lord of North Ithilien telling her stories about his heritage when she was recovering from her accident in Minas Tirith. This must have been his grandfather, Oropher. The resemblance was uncanny. Therefore, the depiction of the ancient city to the left of Oropher must have been Doriath, where he hailed from before becoming King of Greenwood the Great. Terrwyn longed to hear more stories about these original settlers. This kind of history had always intrigued her. Now more than ever, she felt as though she should be better educated in elvish lore.

“Oropher was a great leader during his rule,” said a strong deep voice from behind her. She jumped slightly, gasping in surprise as she was brought out of her daydreaming. Terrwyn turned to find a most important looking elf standing there, gazing up at the tapestry. His eyes turned and settled on the young woman, bright blue eyes that held an ancient wisdom within their depths. Long platinum hair hung to his waist, a wreath made of leaves resting upon his forehead. Another familiar face that she had not seen before looked upon her with welcoming. Terrwyn guessed whom this was but made no assumption aloud.

The glowing wood elf reached his open palm out to Terrwyn and she gave her hand to him readily. He held her fingers gently within his own hand as he brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles, a sign of greeting amongst males and females. His lips were warm and firm upon her hand and she found his charm to be quite irresistible. Terrwyn had seen this form of charm before with the regal and handsome elf lord in Ithilien. She tried not to gawk at him, shaking off her sense of surprise and awe. In true lady-like fashion, Terrwyn curtsied while the elf still held her hand. When she stood straight again, she smiled.

“King Thranduil I presume,” she said, surprised to have found her voice.

“Lovely and smart,” he answered with a twinkle in his blue depths. “And you must be the Lady Terrwyn.”

“What gave me away?” she jested as she brushed her red hair from her shoulder. Again, she was amazed at how comfortable she felt in his presence. To her, it felt like being with Legolas as father and son seemed to hold that same sense of acceptance towards outsiders.

“And a keen sense of humor,” Thranduil added as he released her hand. “I received word upon your arrival. It seems you caused a bit of a stir at my gates.”

“I am sorry to have come uninvited, Your Majesty, but I could not part with the company that I kept, one of them my husband,” she answered honestly.

“And so I have also been made aware. Feredir is a fine young ellon and his mother is one of my most trusted advisors.” He paused a moment as he searched her countenance. “I do hope you are finding my halls to be satisfactory.”

“Exquisitely so,” was her short answer accompanied by a smile. Terrwyn looked back to the tapestry. “Legolas told me about his grandfather and I was just admiring his likeness.”

“Yes, Legolas does seem to have inherited many of my father’s attributes, much more than me I’m afraid.” Thranduil stepped to her side. “Legolas mentioned you and your troubles in one of his letters. My son is a great judge of character and so I was not surprised to see that he felt the need to help you. I was also glad to know that the information gathered on your behalf helped to clear your name. And I’m sure it did not hurt to have one of my best captains assisting you either. Orthorien is a most loyal warrior.”

“That he is, Your Majesty. Ithilien was very fortunate to have his services while he was there. I’m sure he will be missed, but I believe he is much happier now that he is home in Eryn Lasgalen.” As Terrwyn finished speaking, Irneth came up them, curtsied and smiled to King Thranduil.

“I am sorry to interrupt, my King, but I came to retrieve the Lady Terrwyn. We are expected elsewhere,” Irneth said.

“Not here more than a few days and already you are . . . expected,” teased Thranduil.

“Irneth has said she could help me find someone to further my training as a healer,” Terrwyn responded. “While in Ithilien, I studied under Master Curuven. I had hoped to learn more during my stay in Eryn Lasgalen, possibly something new since I am in a different country.”

“Perhaps I could be of assistance. There are many qualified healers here in the palace,” Thranduil offered.

“Actually, Your Majesty,” Irneth added. “I have already spoken to someone.”

“Who might I ask?” the King inquired.

“Master Remlas, Sire.” Irneth spoke softly and with uncertainty.

Thranduil was silent a moment before he spoke. “There is no doubt that Master Remlas is my best healer, but he has not taken on an apprentice in many long years.”

“He was quite reluctant at first but--.”

“He was?” Terrwyn said worriedly.

“Yes, but he says he will ‘humor me’ and speak with you. He may decide not to accept a new student. He is very skeptical,” answered Irneth.

“Then why are you insisting on this person?” Terrwyn wondered.

“Because he is our best healer,” Thranduil answered for Irneth. “You are right to go to Master Remlas, but do not be surprised if he declines. It has nothing to do with you, Terrwyn. He is long lived and set in his ways.”

Terrwyn took that to mean that Remlas was old and stubborn. Actually, she was reminded of Alric just then. She remembered how reluctant the old Rohirric man was to bring her into his home, but he still found it within his heart to help her. She smiled then and looked to Thranduil and Irneth. “Actually, I would be quite honored to meet Master Remlas. I will speak with him and maybe he will change his mind,” she said positively. She finished her conversation with the King of Eryn Lasgalen and left with Irneth to the healing houses where Remlas’ workroom and study was. Terrwyn readied her mind and her will to meet this seemingly stubborn elf, the better part of her Rohirric influence bubbling to the surface as she went.

* * *

The healing house was a rather large part of this section of the underground palace. The first room Irneth led them through was long with tall ceilings. There were beds lined up on either side, only a few with occupants. Surprisingly, there were a few long horizontal windows high up on one side. It seemed this room was not buried as deep as some of the others. Terrwyn thought about this. During times of war, it was especially important to get soldiers help fast. Having the healing house situated so close to the outside world meant ease of access. She figured there was a door, or multiple doors leading to the outside where the wounded could be brought back quickly for treatment. So it seemed that this room was for those with minor injuries.

At the back of the long room was another entrance to another section of the healing house. In here, the beds were partitioned from one another. This would be where those who sustained more serious injuries would be housed. It was also where the Healer’s personal offices were located. Terrwyn noticed there was a door every so often as they walked the length of this second room. Upon the doors were carved details, looping designs with no straight edges, just like most things elvish.

Irneth led Terrwyn to the very back of this room until they came to one such door. It was the one door furthest away from the others. Of course, Terrwyn thought to herself as Irneth gently knocked on the door, the elusive Master Remlas.

“Come in,” said a low voice from behind the door.

Irneth pushed the door open and entered, Terrwyn close on her heels. “Master Remlas, I believe you were expecting us.”

He was not sitting behind his desk as Terrwyn thought she would find him, but rather he was standing by a back shelf, which housed many jar and bottles, boxes and trays. There was an array of dried herbs and powders, odd things in bottles and submerged in liquid of some sort. One shelf held tied bundles of twigs, roots and other plant life.

Remlas had his back turned to them, but slowly spun in their direction after Irneth called his name. Terrwyn took in the sight of him, though she had seen him before in the dining hall. Now she had a closer view. He was as tall as any of his kin with gilded hair of the same tone that ended at his waist, gathered at the top and sides and braided down the back. The rest flowed over the front of his shoulders. He was dressed in a long white robe made of a heavy raw silk material, which hung almost to the floor, tied with a wide lavender sash about his middle. It had a high collar and long sleeves split half way up his arm. When he took a few steps forward, Terrwyn could see that beneath the robe he wore wide legged pants made of the same silk as the robe and lavender slippers that matched the sash. Terrwyn had known Master Curuven to wear outfits similar to this one and figured it must be common attire for healers.

Remlas had his face buried in a book, the pages yellowed from age. It was obvious that he used this book quite often. Over the top edge of the book, Terrwyn saw a feather dancing about. He was writing something, which meant this was a personal ledger of some sort, probably for keeping track of ingredients or measurements for new concoctions. Irneth and Terrwyn stood still waiting for the Master Healer to finish with is current project. Then, dark blue stern eyes peeked over the edge of the book, settling on Terrwyn. She could tell right away that he was none too happy about this new adventure. It was still up to him whether he wanted to accept Terrwyn as his apprentice and from the turned down dark brows that sat just above unemotional eyes, she felt she had not a chance. Remlas lowered the ledger and Terrwyn could see the rest of his face. Thin lips closed tight looked as if they had not produced a smile in a century. He had a long lean face, high cheekbones and tall forehead, but his eyes held some bit of sorrow. It was not very prominent, but Terrwyn could see it behind the façade, an unrelenting stare. Even so, he was a handsome elf, wise looking and most ancient. It still fascinated Terrwyn that some elves had been alive since the forming of Middle-earth. It was difficult to fathom such age and seemingly infinite years of life. Remlas gave such an impression. There would be nothing she could tell him that he did not already know. With that thought, she knew all she could truly be was his student and even at that, she would never learn all that he could teach her.

“Name,” he demanded as he closed the book with a snap and brought it to his chest.

“Terrwyn, Master Healer,” she answered.

“No titles, please. We were given names and therefore they should be used appropriately. You may simply call me Remlas.” He glanced at Irneth. “You may go. I have some questions for Terrwyn.”

Irneth bowed politely and turned to the door, but Remlas spoke again. “Do not go too far though. She may need you to escort her back to the main halls,” He set his eyes back on Terrwyn. “I may deem this unnecessary.” With that said, Irneth exited the office, closing the door behind her. Then she took a seat on a nearby bench and waited to see what the outcome would be.

The two of them alone now, Remlas closed the distance between him and Terrwyn, walking in a tight circle around her. She felt as if she were under close examination, but dared not speak until he asked her a question.

“Where do you hail from?” he asked beginning a line of quick questions.

“The Westfold.”

Remlas was not impressed. “An uneducated people.”

“I am self-taught.”

“Hmm yes, well I would have more faith had you been from Edoras.”

“I lived there for a while, sir.”

“I said no titles,” he corrected sharply. “Is this a sign that you do not listen to orders?”

“No, my apologies. I was only trying to show respect.” Terrwyn was quick with her answers and now paid closer attention to her words.

Remlas came back around and stood in front of her. “What experience do you have with medicine? Please do not tell me you are self-taught with that too.”

“I lived in Ithilien for a while and studied under the Master Healer there, Master--.”

“Curuven,” he finished for her. “Yes, I know of whom you speak. He was my student many long years ago.” Terrwyn’s jaw dropped as a look of surprise spread across her countenance. Remlas gave her no time to respond as he stepped aside and held a hand out towards the back of the room. “On these shelves you will find everything needed to make any type of medicine. Let’s test you first. Gather the ingredients needed to make a simple salve.”

Terrwyn did not move right away as she was slightly flustered by the stern healer. Remlas brought his hands together, folding them in front of him. “If you cannot move faster than this, then I’m afraid we are done here.”

“Oh, no sir . . . uh . . . Master . . . I mean, Remlas,” she stuttered as she rushed to the shelves and began looking at his stock. Everything was neatly arranged and in order according to ingredients. She gave it a quick look-over and figured out his system of organizing, then began collecting the things she needed to make the salve. She sat everything carefully on the workbench to the side of the shelves and turned to Remlas when she was done. He approached her, eyeing her carefully. He examined her choices and noticed there was one herb that he did not expect her to choose. He was quite sure that it did not grow in Ithilien and therefore wondered how she would know about it.

“Why did you pick this one here?” he questioned pointing to the bunch of dried leaves.

“Well, normally I would not choose that one, but I am in Eryn Lasgalen and there are more poisonings from spiders than orc blades. I thought it was more appropriate for the type of wound.”

Remlas raised one of his dark eyebrows. “Impressive,” he mentioned and Terrwyn smiled at her small victory. “But by no means the reason for my decision.” He paused, making Terrwyn wait for the rest.

“Your decision?” she asked carefully when he did not speak again.

“I will give you a chance, but only one. Should you not learn quickly enough or to my satisfaction, I’m afraid I must terminate these teachings. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Remlas,” Terrwyn answered.

“Mmhmm, we will see,” he mumbled through thin lips. Then he raised his hand and made a shooing gesture towards the door. “Go then. We will start tomorrow.”

Terrwyn bowed before going to his door. She opened it, stopped and turned her head back to him. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

Remlas said nothing, but eyed her carefully once more and nodded. He hated everything about his decision to take on an apprentice, but something about this woman intrigued him, though he would hardly admit it. Besides, if she turned out to be more than a bother, he would just tell her to go and that would be that. There were plenty of other healers who would gladly teach her, though she could not learn as much as he could teach her.

Terrwyn came out of Remlas’ office and Irneth jumped up from her bench. “So, what did he say?” the elleth asked anxiously.

“He told me to come back tomorrow.”

Irneth hugged Terrwyn. “Oh this is wonderful news. I cannot believe that he wants you to return, but I’m glad.”

“Well, he is giving me a very small opportunity to prove to him that I am worth his time. I’m not sure I know enough to impress him. I get the feeling that he is looking for someone who is already well educated and I just don’t know.”

“The fact that you have gotten this far is truly a sign of your talent. Remlas has not worked with anyone in many years. Oh, I am happy for you, Terrwyn. Wait until Feredir learns of this. He will be so proud.” Irneth took Terrwyn by the hand. “Come on, let’s get you back home. Feredir will be waiting for you. He is anxious to show you around.” The two friends hurried back towards the guest quarters.

* * *

It had been a few weeks since Terrwyn first met Remlas and she was still working with him. She sized him up quickly and learned how to interact with him. He wanted things done neatly and in a timely fashion. When he asked a question, he did not want a long drawn out answer, simply straight to the point. He wanted to know she was paying attention and soon she found out that he was easier to get along with when she asked him questions instead of just watching and listening. In a way, Terrwyn was learning how to . . . well, learn. Remlas was the type that needed to know she was aware of what he was saying and doing, otherwise he felt as if he were talking to a wall. And Terrwyn was very interested in everything he had to teach her.

Still, there were those times when she did not do or say as he wished. He was hard on her when she made a mistake and it usually led to her sterilizing containers and utensils, something she was very familiar with from working with Master Curuven. Terrwyn realized that while she was serving her punishment, she was thinking deeply about her mistakes and what to do to make things right.

The one thing Remlas had not done was ask Terrwyn any personal questions about her or her life, which was why she was shocked when out of silence he spoke. “I see you wear a silver ring upon your finger. Are you betrothed?”

Terrwyn stopped crushing the dried leaves before her and looked to the Master Healer, who kept his nose buried in his book. “It is too long of a story to tell, but I am already bound to my husband. Now we seek a proper ceremony,” she said proudly.

Without lifting his head, he rolled his eyes up, glancing at her from the bridge of his nose. “To an elf?” His question was almost accusatory.

“Yes, he is an elf. Well, he is half elf,” she answered. “Feredir, the son of Laveth, the King’s top negotiator.”

Remlas bowed his head back into his ledger without answering for a few long moments before he spoke again. “Seems rather peculiar to me, but then he has lived amongst the race of men for some time now. I guess it makes sense that he would settle down with a human.”

“Oh well yes, but I am also part elf.” Terrwyn continued.

Remlas looked at her from over his book. He held his current state of calmness, but was shocked to hear of her heritage. He replaced his quill into the inkpot and laid the book down. Now he carefully observed Terrwyn as she worked at her station, not noticing Remlas’ reaction. “I would not have guessed it. It is obvious you have favored your Rohirric ancestry.”

Terrwyn nodded silently. She was not sure why she felt compelled to tell the Master healer this bit of personal information. So far, she had avoided any deep discussion about it, even with Feredir. She just wasn’t ready to talk about it, worried how it might change her once she accepted the fact. Remlas seemed very curious about it though. This was the most interest she had seen him take in anything but medicine and teaching and she felt a little uncomfortable. “I . . . I have only recently discovered this.

Remlas got up from his desk and walked around to the front. His white robes chased behind him as he turned to face Terrwyn. Now he looked at her more closely. “Who was your elf parent?” His voice was soft as he spoke.

“My father was, but I never met him. As I said, until recently I did not know any of this.” She stopped working and glanced across the way to Remlas. “I hope none of this makes any difference to you. No matter who I am or how I was raised, I am very interested in healing and I intend to do my best.”

Remlas realized he was intruding and quickly turned from her. He cleared his throat to dispatch the kindness in his voice. “Well, it makes sense now why you are such an avid learner for this occupation. You have the quick wit of the elves.”

Terrwyn took offence to this and was about to defend her Rohirric people when the door to the workroom flew open and a young elf maiden interrupted. She was out of breath and looked extremely concerned.

“Master Healer, there has been an accident at the practice fields. One of the trainees was sparing and he was cut badly on his leg,” she said worriedly.

“They were sparing with real weapons?” Remlas asked irritated by what he heard.

“They are the advanced group, sir,” the elleth answered.

Without another word, Remlas reached for a bag he kept by the workroom door. He ordered Terrwyn to gather bandages and some cloths and follow him. She figured the advanced trainees used real weapons instead of practice ones. They followed the maiden out of the healing house and to a door that Terrwyn had noticed when Irneth first brought her here. Just as she thought, the door led to the outside. So she was right about the healing houses being close to the surface of the mountain instead of being buried deep as was Thranduil’s throne room.

“This way,” the maiden called as they followed her deeper into the thick woods. Terrwyn looked up and noticed how the branches in the canopy of the trees seemed to overlap each other, practically shutting out any sunlight. She had not been in this part of the forest. Feredir took her around to see gardens and celebration glades, but not to the practice grounds. This part of the woods seemed somewhat closed off to the other areas.

Finally, they approached a group of elven warriors, or warriors in training. They were all wearing tunics, leggings and boots, quivers strapped to their backs and swords at their sides. Terrwyn thought they looked ready for war, not practicing.

“Move back now. Let me through,” Remlas demanded in his native tongue. As he pushed through, Terrwyn followed close behind him. She noticed that the elves stared at her as she made her way to the injured man. She suddenly felt very out of place as they all looked at her with bias. They instantly seemed to forget about the injured soldier. The crowd that had split apart at Remlas’ barking orders now enclosed upon the Rohirrim woman and she nearly crawled into the healers white robe. When he felt Terrwyn pushing him forward, he turned to see the looks from the curious soldiers. “That will be enough, men. Go back to whatever it was you were doing and let us work here.” He nodded to Terrwyn. “She is my new apprentice is all. Now go,” he demanded trying to disperse the crowd.

“But she is a woman,” one of the soldiers said.

Remlas towered above the youth who spoke. “Yes she is a woman. She is from Rohan and has been given permission by the King to be here. If you find this to be unacceptable, I suggest you take it up with His Majesty.” His words were spoken with a sharp tongue and the crowd immediately began to break apart and move away, all but for the ellon who questioned him.

“You have not taken on a student in a hundred years and now you would teach her, a human?” the soldier accused.

Remlas’ eyes narrowed as he regarded this brave but stupid elf. “I suggest you move along with your troops least you be put on latrine duty for your next hundred years, soldier.”

The student warrior backed away when one of his partners took hold of his arm, but his eyes remained on Terrwyn and she felt a cold chill run up her spine. When they were finally away from her and the healer, Remlas laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “Some still do not trust outsiders, least of all humans. Pay no attention to him though. There are more who accept the changes in the world than the ones who do not.”

With that said, Remlas went straight to the injured elf lying on the ground, a pool of blood beneath his leg. The cut was very deep and Terrwyn feared an artery might have been severed. Remlas glanced at his assistant, seeing the worry on her face. “It looks worse than it is. A thorough cleaning and some stitches and he’ll be back on his feet in no time. Now, hand me those bandages.”

Terrwyn did as she was commanded, handing him whatever he asked for from his bag. Not once did she give him the wrong item and soon the soldier was bandaged up, put on a litter and taken to the healing house. Still, all the while, Terrwyn could not help but think about the response by the one student. He seemed angry with Remlas and his choice to take her on as an apprentice. She filed the information away and would hopefully be able to ask the Master Healer about it later when they returned to his workroom.
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Journey Of A Butterfly