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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 67 - On With the Celebration

With the blessing ceremony accomplished, it was time for the feast, the most anticipated part of the celebration. As soon as the bride and groom took to their chairs, doors on either side of the hall burst open and out poured a parade of elvish servants, all dressed in their finest uniforms. Each one carried a silver tray upon their shoulder. Like a well-rehearsed dance, they went to their assigned spots along the long tables and waited until the last elf was in place. In unison, the servants carefully placed the trays on the tables. The guest’s eyes grew wide as they observed the fine choice of succulent meats that had been well prepared for the occasion. Suckling pig, roast venison and pheasant filled each platter, still steaming and smelling absolutely delectable. The guests helped themselves to the feast while the empty-handed servants returned through the doors. Just as soon as the last one disappeared, a new set of servants came out carrying a silver bowl in each hand. They too went to their respected places and waited until they were all ready before setting their delicacies down along the two tables. Steamed vegetables were in one bowl and an assortment of breads were in the other. Small honey pots were already placed on the tables earlier and some of the guests started drizzling the sweet treat on their bread.

Finally, the last group of servants filtered from the side doors holding large carafes of deep burgundy wine. The guests applauded, for this was what they all waited for. The wine was the King’s best, saved for visiting lords, strict negotiations and blessing events such as this. Dorwinion wine was a favorite of the wood elves and rightly so by its rich spicy flavor and the warm after affect it caused. No one would leave disappointed tonight.

Terrwyn and Feredir sat at their own table decorated with the same flower arrangements and ribbons, arranged at the head of the hall where the other guests could see them. Two servants brought them trays and bowls of all the fine foods being served, though smaller portions. Neither had realized just how famished they were until the fragrance of their bounty wafted to their noses. Feredir went first, pinching a bit tender venison between his fingers. As he brought it to his mouth, Terrwyn stopped him.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she protested, waving her finger at him. “I made a vow to take care of you.” She took the meat from his hand and brought it to his mouth. “And I mean to do so starting now.” He allowed her to feed him, but captured her wrist before she could pull it away. There was an all too familiar fire in those silver eyes as he seductively sucked on each of her fingers.

“I could get used to this,” he growled. Then he leaned towards her and kissed her. She tasted the salted meat upon his lips and her stomach answered in protest. Feredir laughed and began filling her plate with an array of the different foods. “Eat Naru. Your stomach speaks for you.”

She laughed as she looked down at her overflowing plate. There was no possible way she could eat all of this, no matter how hungry she was. Then she looked at Feredir’s plate, filled just as full. He seemed like he would have no trouble at all finishing every last bite.

One of the servants came back carrying two goblets of wine and set them in front of their plates. Feredir seemed not to notice as he was devouring his roasted quail voraciously. She smiled and thanked the servant then picked up her glass, drinking heartily. As soon as she swallowed, she choked, not expecting the strong flavor. “Much different . . . from the wines in Gondor . . . isn’t it?”

“This is Dorwinion wine. Drink slowly and only take small sips or I shall have to carry you from the hall and put you to bed before the dancing commences. It is very strong, Naru,” he informed her.

Well, he could have warned her first had he not been so focused on his plate. Terrwyn, of course would not have him thinking she was weak. “I am an elf. I think I can handle my liquor,” she teased.

Feredir nodded. “I am an elf too, but even I am not immune to the King’s best vintage. Trust me, small sips and pace yourself with that poison.” He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. “I will not have my wife drunk in our bed this evening, unable to remember all of the things I plan on doing to you tonight.”

Terrwyn cocked an eyebrow. “A few more sips of this,” she said holding her glass up to him. “And I think you will be the one who is helpless.”

Feredir picked up his goblet and clinked it with hers as if they were toasting. “Then by all means, Naru drink up,” he laughed.

* * *

Meanwhile, Horphen was busy acquainting himself with the young maiden he had invited. She was quite informative about the meal, stating how she had been involved with the preparations. Horphen gave her his attention as she described the different types of flour used to make the assorted breads on the table. After a while, he lost track of what she was saying as his wandering mind drifted to her cleavage. She may have been a maiden, but her provocative attire said otherwise. That mixed with the effects of the wine was making Horphen a bit zealous. His attention drifted back to her conversation, now turned to the preparing of the suckling pig, which seemed to have been slaughtered by her brother. Oh, by her much older, overprotective brother, she informed him. Horphen started to reconsider his intentions with the pretty young elleth. It seemed that she was not looking for someone to gently and respectfully introduce her to womanhood, but rather a courtship that would eventually turn to an evening like this one. Horphen had dodged enough arrows from angry fathers to know better than to pursue anything further with this one. He was not ready for such a commitment and felt no desire to do so with her, no matter how firm and ripe her breasts looked in that dress. However, Horphen was an elf of honor and he would not abandon her to search for a willing partner. He would finish out the evening pretending to be interested in her experience as a cook. He hoped that she would not go into as much detail about the preparing of the quail as she has with the suckling pig. After learning more than he wanted about gutting and such, Horphen filled his plate with a variety of vegetables instead.

* * *

After everyone had their fill, the minstrels took up their places on the dais, picked up their instruments, gave each other a nod and started playing softly. The servants came out and started clearing the tables of plates and trays. They replaced empty wine carafes with full ones and set out clean goblets. A low murmur filled the hall as the guests turned from feasting to conversation. They left their confined spaces at the tables and began roaming around the hall gathering in small groups and continuing their discussions.

If there was one thing that Terrwyn learned this evening, it was that elvish weddings and human ones had one similarity. The guests did not like to see the bride and groom in close proximity with each other for too long at any one time. She had thought this was going to be her first dance with her husband, but was mistaken when a group of well-wishers surrounded them, young elf men and women who had been looking for the opportunity to speak with them thus far. Like a rolling wave, Feredir and Terrwyn were swallowed up and divided apart, the elf women pulling Terrwyn in one direction and the elf men leading Feredir the opposite way. Terrwyn was feeling a bit overwhelmed and glanced back at Feredir who smiled and shrugged his shoulders as the couple was swept further apart from each other.

“Feredir,” she called to him slightly nervous.

He made a shooing motion with his hands. “It’s alright, Naru. They are just curious. We will dance later.”

She turned back to her audience, suddenly bombarded by a deluge of questions.

“Lady Terrwyn, Lady Terrwyn,” the youthful ellith all said in unison, each one trying to gain her attention.

“My, you are an enthusiastic bunch aren’t you?” she laughed.

“We apologize, my lady.” One of the youth took it upon herself to speak for the rest. She was a pretty elf dressed in light blue silk to match her eyes. Her golden hair was braided and pulled back at the sides. Terrwyn could see the innocence in her eyes. She had not yet reached her majority. “We have known of your residence here for a while, but did not feel it was our place to approach you. We have seen how busy you are with the Master healer and the wedding preparations. Some of us do not speak your language either. We are truly intrigued by you and your story and we were wondering . . .” Suddenly the elleth seemed at a loss for words. She blushed slightly and looked down at her tightly clasped hands. Terrwyn waited for her to find her voice again, but another one in the group took over for the elf in blue.

“My lady, we were wondering about your kinsmen -- the Rohirrim. You see, we have not been outside of the borders of our home and have not met many strangers. Since you have arrived, we cannot help but wonder about other countries, especially those of Men.” This elf was more forward and seemed a bit older than the others or maybe less worried about being outspoken.

“Maybe it would help if you told me what it is you know of Rohan,” Terrwyn responded politely.

A third elleth who resembled the one in blue quite prominently, decided to make her voice heard. “We only know what we have been told by our elders, that your men are barbaric and enjoy killing and war. But some of the soldiers that fought with them during the battle at Helm’s Deep say they are great warriors and fight bravely for their country. They say that they are the tallest and strongest of the race of men and show their brawn quite flagrantly. We have never seen the like, but they intrigue us.” As she finished speaking, the elleth seemed to blush slightly.

Terrwyn smiled now that she understood their curiosity. “The men of Rohan are very proud of their country. They do not go seeking battles to prove their strength though. On the contrary, we are a peaceful people, but like the hornet’s nest, provoke the colony and they will attack. They uphold their women with the greatest respect and are loving fathers.”

“And are so very muscular,” interrupted a new voice amongst the small group.

Terrwyn laughed. “Yes, I guess you are right.” Obviously, they were more interested in her compatriots’ robust physique rather than the love of their country.

A discussion broke out amongst the elf women about just how muscular Rohirric men were and how they got that way. Terrwyn listened to the buzz of chatter that surrounded her. While they were distracted, she looked over to where Feredir stood with the group of elf men, finding him in just as deep of a discussion as she had been.

“We hear that some of the Rohirric women are trained to fight just like the men,” said a young ellon with dark blond waves. “They are just as fierce as the men.”

Feredir laughed to himself at their curiosity. “Well, not all of their women are trained in this way, but I would not want to cross the ones that are.”

A dark haired lithe formed youth spoke next. “Is the Lady Terrwyn trained as such?”

“She has had no formal training, but she can hold her own in a fight. Do not let her small frame and delicateness fool you. That can be said of any of Rohan’s women. They are most proud of their land and its people. The men protect them, but the women do fine on their own when the men are away. They must since they are the ones left to see to the children and their estates. It is not so easy a life out on the open plains of the Riddermark.”

“I would not mind being challenged by one of their Shieldmaidens. I think it would be most alluring to duel with one of them, to feel her strength,” said the same dark haired youth.

“Or to be trapped beneath one of them,” said his friend with the golden waves. His blue eyes ignited, as he seemed to imagine it.

“Well, in that case she would no longer be considered a Shield . . . maiden now would she?” Feredir answered and suddenly the whole group quieted to consider this. Then they began discussing exactly what the word Shieldmaiden meant and whether only maidens could be amongst their assembly. The talk took a turn when the group of young ellyn began to debate the placement of certain weapons upon the Rohirric women’s person, whether they kept their smaller knives in their boot or strapped to their leg. The mention of women’s thighs led to other mischievous topics. They became distracted just enough that Feredir was able to slip away before they drew him in for more questioning.

Seeing that Feredir was free of his company, the minstrels switched from the soft background music they were currently playing, to something more romantic. The dark elf strolled over to where Terrwyn was being held captive by the young elf women and interrupted. “If you do not mind, I would like to have a dance with my wife.” His voice was charming and polite, making the ellith giggle and break apart so Terrwyn could be with her love. He offered her is hand, palm up and she accepted with a bright smile. As he was about to whisk her away she caught a glimpse of Hathmund sitting at a table, alone and watching the wood elves gather in groups instead of joining in with them. He seemed out of place and he probably felt the same. A bit of mischievousness came over Terrwyn and she called to the group of elf women.

“If you would like to know more, might I suggest speaking with my brother? You would certainly learn more from him than me since he is a man of Rohan.”

The elf women all turned their heads together to see a very handsome, sun kissed, muscular man sitting with one hand on his wine goblet and the other resting in his lap as he watched the festivities continue around him. Terrwyn giggled to herself and did not wait to see what would happen next, allowing Feredir to lead her to the dance floor situated at the foot of the dais.

“And what was that all about?” he questioned.

“Oh, I’m just trying to introduce Hathmund to elvish culture is all,” she smiled slyly. “Now where were we?”

“I was about to have a first dance with my wife,” he said as he bowed to her. Terrwyn followed his cue and curtsied, the soft green silk of her skirts sweeping across the floor. Their eyes met and his hands went to her waist, pulling her close. The stiffness of his uniform’s coat gave her a shivering thrill of enjoyment as she pressed against him. He looked so handsome in his guardsman attire and she was imaging how fun it would be to peel him out of it.

He twirled her around, releasing her waist and taking her hand. Just before she got away from him, he pulled her back and captured her with his arm. Their faces only an inch apart, Feredir moved to kiss her. At the last second, Terrwyn released herself from his grip, twirling away from him again. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, repeating the same motion as before. This time he held her in his strong grip and dipped her so she was helpless and could not get away from him. “Are you happy, my love?” Feredir whispered.

“Completely happy.” Terrwyn closed her eyes and gave in to him, allowing him to have control over her. He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. She was powerless in his arms, surrendering to his kiss that deepened every second that passed. Just when she thought they would disappear from the world around them, Feredir pulled her up slowly, demonstrating his elvish strength as he made her feel weightless. Terrwyn smiled and put her arms around his neck. She found herself lost in his silver stare, just as she had long ago in the old abandoned forest of North Ithilien. Nothing had changed since then except for the fact that she had no doubt she was hopelessly in love with him.

* * *

While the bride and groom shared their first dance together, Irneth sat with her sisters and listened to them talk of their relationships. Her oldest sister, Seldes was betrothed now, after a yearlong courtship. Hers would be the next wedding celebration in Eryn Lasgalen in less than a month and she was very excited. Avorniel was second in line as a sister and for marriage having just recently accepted a courtship. Irneth, youngest of the sisters, was unattached and not even close to needing an ellon in her life right now. She was on a list of students hoping to train at the palace as a scribe and had recently been chosen. It was her dream to become the mistress of record keeping, but as with any employment, there were many levels to achieve first. An invitation to study and learn at the palace was the first step in reaching her goal. She fought hard and studied long to get to this point. The last thing she was worried about was settling down with a husband.

As if on cue, the empty chair next to her slid out from the table and Orthorien sat down, uninvited. Irneth cringed and stiffened at his closeness. She had good reason to.

For many years, Irneth had managed to keep a considerable amount of distance between her and Orthorien. It was true that they had a past, though it was short lived, but what happened between them was sudden and fiery with a complete lack of will power on her part. Orthorien brought out a side of Irneth that she did not know existed, but she was not sure she wanted to experience it again. He held some kind of intense power over her that made her forget all of her inhibitions. In the heat of the moment, it was one of the most exquisite things she’d ever experienced, but the after effects of an ellon as charming as Orthorien were quite damaging to someone like Irneth. He liked to play his games, liked his women to play along and she thought she could, but he did not play fair and in the end she resented him and her choice to allow him to do this to her. That was when she vowed never to let him influence her again.

Irneth stayed away from Orthorien as best she could and it worked for a very long time … until Feredir and Terrwyn asked them to be participants in their special day, assistants whose job it was to serve the bride and groom. Irneth wanted to decline Terrwyn’s offer, but she could not let her new friend down. She prepared herself for this day, knowing she would be in close proximity with Orthorien. She had built a sturdy wall around her, one that she hoped he could not tear down. Now, here he was up to his old tricks, using her sisters to soften her up.

Orthorien gave the sisters one of his most charming smiles and all conversations came to a halt. Seldes and Avorniel looked at him with blank faces, waiting for him to speak. Usually, some smart comment was the first thing to leave his lips, and so they waited silently. When it seemed that the sisters would not speak first, Orthorien chuckled to himself and started the conversation.

“It seems congratulations are in order, Seldes. Horphen told me about your betrothal.” He was of course being overly kind in tone. “And to you also Avorniel for your recent courtship,” he added.

“Thank you Orthorien. Your kindness has been duly noted,” answered Seldes sarcastically.

Irneth felt his attention shift to her, felt his eyes burning into her flesh and cringed as she wondered what he was up to. “And more praise to you Irneth, for securing a place in the palace as one of Eryn Lasgalen’s highest ranking students to have been chosen for apprenticeship with the scribes. That is quite an impressive accomplishment.”

Slightly taken aback by his unusually courteous behavior, Irneth smiled and nodded. “Thank you Orthorien. I worked hard for that position.” Maybe years of being a warrior had changed him, matured him somehow. One could only hope.

Orthorien leaned in and his hot breath grazed her shoulder as he whispered so only she could hear. “I know of another position and you would only need to work as intensely as you cared to.”

Alas, it was too good to be true after all. Still the same salacious ellon as he was in his youth, she thought to herself as she shook her head. The sound of a hammer slamming against brick rattled through her subconscious, but her wall was holding steady.

Seldes and Avorniel did not hear his lewd comment, but regarded him with a steely glare. Just then, their men approached and pulled them to the dance floor, leaving Irneth alone with Orthorien. She made a mental check and quickly repaired the damage done to her barrier. Today she would refuse to let him get under her skin, for the day was not about them. It was about Feredir and Terrwyn and carrying out their duties as the couples close friend and family. Besides, Orthorien was here with someone … someone much more beautiful who could not doubt satisfy his appetite. He was only trying to engage her in another one of his games, but she would not play. Ignoring Orthorien’s last comment, she looked around the room hoping to find this other elleth so she could direct his attention away from her and onto his chosen plaything. Just then, Irneth saw a flash of copper from somewhere over her shoulder and craned her neck to see Orthorien’s companion seething by the desserts table. It seemed his attention on Irneth had not gone unnoticed by the attractive elleth from Lindon. Irneth returned Orthorien’s arrogant smile with one of her own. “It may be in your best interest to return to your date. I am sensing a bit of jealousy coming from the far end of the hall.”

Orthorien turned in the direction that Irneth was looking and flashed one of his sexy smiles to the aggravated elleth. She bit her lip and gave a little wiggle of her hips in response. It was enough to quell her jealousy while he finished speaking with Irneth. “I am just testing her. She seemed a bit enthusiastic when I asked her to join me today. I don’t want to give her any false hopes. You know how . . .” He paused to find the right word. “. . . emotional you women get at these binding ceremonies.”

Irneth rolled her eyes and turned away, only to find one of the minstrels eyeing the exotic seaside elf from across the room. He was the owner of the reed pipe and was not currently needed for this song selection. Irneth could tell it was not the first time the musician had spotted the copper haired elleth and now she was unguarded while Orthorien was busy torturing Irneth. “I suspect she might be in someone else’s future,” she jested, nodding towards the musician.

Orthorien made a quick observation, then gave Irneth that cavalier half smile that made her want to choke him, completely ignoring the flirting between his date and the reed player. “Promise me a dance later and I will leave you in peace.” He did not seem the least bit concerned about his date, who was now speaking with the flautist and batting her eyelashes.

Irneth panicked a bit. She knew if the sea elf was swept away by another, Orthorien would pester her for the remainder of the evening. “Really Orthorien, you came with someone else. I do not find it at all proper to dance with me when you have that gorgeous creature to--.”

“If I invited her here solely as my dance partner, we would already be out there.” He gestured towards the dance floor where other couples swayed to the soft music. “But that is not what interests her.” He watched as the exotic elleth caught Orthorien observing her shameless behavior with the reed player and then shot him and Irneth a murderous glare.

Irneth felt as though she were caught in the middle of some strange jealously match and deciding this was enough, stood from the table. “Nothing has changed about you, Orthorien. I will not let you drag me into your twisted game. Please, just leave me alone.” She spoke in a quiet voice, serious about her decision and making it very clear that she would not fall prey to his advances anymore.

Orthorien had never seen Irneth this way before. When he first met her so long ago and in their youth, she succumbed to him so easily. Now, she showed him her maturity, something he realized he was lacking with her. He grabbed her arm gently to keep her from walking away. “I’m sorry, Irneth. I meant no harm. I only wanted to dance with you, just one dance and I will leave you alone.”

He sounded so sincere, unusual for Orthorien. Irneth could not help but think he was up to no good. Still, one dance was all he asked for and then he promised to leave her alone. That could not be so bad, but then again it was with Orthorien. Clank … clank … clank went the sound of a hammer chipping away at her wall. He was trying to render her powerless again, but she knew better now.

“Alright fine, one dance and that is all,” she answered quickly. Damnit, she cursed to herself.

Orthorien took her hand and kissed it, lips lingering over her knuckles, soft demanding lips. “I will seek you for that dance later.” He bowed to his current company and went directly to the musicians who had just finished playing a slow romantic melody for the bride and groom. He spoke to the leader of the bunch and smiled with his usual charm, requesting a song he was sure could not be played without a reed player. The bandleader nodded and called to the absent minstrel, who left the Lindon elleth and rushed towards the stage. Orthorien returned to his date and was greeted with a look of annoyance. A quick whisper and a gentle kiss to elleth’s cheek seemed to be enough to soothe her mood and all seemed to be forgiven. He took her hand and led her to a table in a secluded corner.

Irneth watched the scene play out and shook her head, laughing to herself. “Nicely done,” she said quietly. As much as he irritated her, she could not help but notice how confident he was. Orthorien had always been that way. Strangely enough, she liked that about him. It was one of the things that attracted her to him when they were younger, before she found out who he really was, a draug, a wolf.

Irneth pulled herself from thoughts and returned to her table, but gasped when she saw Seldes and Avorniel looking at her accusingly, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, chastising her with their hard stares. They had finished their dance and returned to their seats only to find their young sister speaking with Orthorien. Seldes shook her head disapprovingly and spoke first. “You actually fell for that?”

“You know he is only after one thing,” Avorniel added.

“Back for second helpings is more like it,” Irneth murmured, not realizing what she was saying. Her sisters gasped and uncrossed their arms.

“You didn’t,” Seldes demanded.

Irneth sat down and turned redder than the apple sitting atop a nearby bowl of fruit. She had no words and looked to her lap nodding to confirm.

“Irneth!” Avorniel shouted in a loud whisper. “Did we not tell you about Orthorien? Were our warnings not enough to convince you? We told you how he tried the same thing with us.”

“Yes, but we knew better than to go off with him. When we refused him, we knew he was just waiting until you came of age so he could try the same thing with you,” Seldes continued. “This was what we tried to convince you of.”

Irneth covered her face with her hands. “I know … I know you told me, but … well, he was … and I was ... and … well, look at him,” she confessed, finally giving in. “He’s gorgeous and he says all the right things. But you were both right and I should have listened. It was only the one time and it was a long time ago. I learned my lesson and have avoided him ever sense.” Seldes and Avorniel shook their heads in disappointment. Irneth laughed nervously and gave in.

“Well, I hope it was worth it,” Seldes scolded.

She did not answer her sister, but let her mind wander back to that one night with Orthorien, that moment of weakness that she swore she would never repeat. Yes, it was worth it, she told herself and cleared her mind. “Never again,” she proclaimed to her sisters, yet in the deepest recesses of her brain, Irneth was not completely convinced. The hammer had done irreversible damage this evening.
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Journey Of A Butterfly