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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
- 67
- 68
- 69
Chapter 68 - Finale of the Festivities

“Oh Horphen, I have had such a wonderful time tonight,” Meressel exclaimed, the pretty kitchen maiden he had invited to the wedding.

“I am glad to hear it,” he answered with a weak attempt to sound joyous. He had walked her home and was standing outside of her family’s talan hoping she would go in soon so that he could return for the end of the festivities.

For the entire evening, the girl would not stop talking about her culinary skills or of her older brother’s precise butchering techniques, of which the very thought made Horphen’s balls shrink into hiding. Meressel had recently obtained her position in the kitchens and had hopes of becoming one of the many highly ranked cooks. It was good that she took pride in her work, but there had been nothing else to discuss with her. Every time Horphen tried to turn the subject from cooking, Meressel found a way to bring it back to her favorite subject. Now Horphen felt as if he had just finished a boxing match with side of venison and he was tired. But he was raised with a sense of right and wrong and knew he must always finish what he started. He had invited Meressel to the wedding and it was his job to see her home. Any other ellon might have left her there and found someone else to entertain them with the hopes of finding one to warm their bed. Those hopes faded hours ago for Horphen and now he was only doing his duty.

Suddenly, Meressel snaked her arms around Horphen’s waist, rested her chin on his chest and looked longingly into his hazel eyes. “I wish you did not have to bring me home.”

So did he, but it was a little too late for that now. “I promised your family I would have you back at a decent hour and it seems as though we have reached that time.”

Meressel gave him a pout that quickly turn back into a smile. “You are very charming, Horphen.” She brought her arms behind her back and twisted left then right as she looked at him with those innocent blue eyes. “You know, one day I hope to have a wedding as wonderful as Terrwyn and Feredir’s.”

“I hope you do too,” Horphen answered, already feeling sympathy for the poor ellon who would hand her his soul. He better like to eat … a lot, the wicked elf thought to himself and contained a laugh that threatened to escape. “Well, I must be going. I promised Feredir I would see him before the end of the night.” He bowed to Meressel, but when he stood upright again, he found her with her eyes closed, head tilted upward and lips pursed, waiting for a goodnight kiss. Instead of feeling dread for having to kiss someone he had no interest in, he realized that this was a special night for Meressel. Who was he to ruin an evening that she would undoubtedly remember for the rest of her days? He took her chin in his fingers and she opened her eyes. “Have you never been kissed before?” he whispered.

She blushed and turned her head to the side. “No.”

Feeling her embarrassment, Horphen smiled sincerely and caught her in his gaze. “I am honored that you have chosen me to be your first.”

For the first time this day, Meressel was speechless. She was no longer the chatty overly anxious elleth, but rather shy and, should he even say, scared? Horphen put his strong hands on her waist and leaned towards her. Meressel wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, but he smiled to ease her worry. “Just relax. A first kiss comes but only once and it should be enjoyable.”

She nodded and gave a nervous smile before she closed her eyes. Horphen moved closer and brushed his lips across hers before stilling himself. The kiss was sweet and tender, lips sliding upon lips, then parting as the tips of their tongues touched. A light caress was all he would offer her mouth. Anything deeper would not have been appropriate. The moment seemed to last an eternity to Meressel, but too soon it was over. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Horphen could feel it. He released his hold on her and stood back at a more respectable distance. With his hand over his heart, the elf bowed to the young maiden and smiled.

“It was a pleasurable evening, my lady.”

“It was for me too,” Meressel confessed as she placed her hand on the doorknob. She turned to look at him again. “Thank you Horphen, for everything. You are a true gentleman.”

* * *

Back at the hall, Feredir and Terrwyn were having a wonderful time dancing and talking with friends, meeting new people and just all around have the time of their lives. The wine flowed freely throughout the night. Feredir paced himself, but Terrwyn was beginning to feel the effects of the strong vintage. He saw evidence of this as she stumbled. He excused himself from his present company and went to his wife’s side. “Perhaps you’ve had enough, Terrwyn.” He only called her by her given name when he was upset or concerned, the latter being his current feelings.

“I am fine, Feredir. I’m just a little tired and tripped over my dress is all,” she said defending her actions.

“If you are tired then I think it’s time you took a rest.” Feredir used her own excuse against her, apologized to her current guests and led her to the tables. Remlas caught his eye and he approached the Master healer with Terrwyn on his arm. He smiled and bowed. “Master Remlas, it was a surprise to see you tonight, but we are honored to have you in our company. Terrwyn was just telling me that she needed a rest and--.”

“By all means my dear girl, have a sit and rest your tired feet,” Remlas interrupted as he stood and pulled a chair out for her. Terrwyn had a seat and realized that Feredir was right to have her rest a moment. She expected him to join her, since it seemed they had hardly spent a quiet moment alone this evening. Feredir leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I see Orthorien has a lull in his company and there is something I want to speak with him about. I’ll be back and then we will have another dance before our guests leave.” He kissed her hand and brushed her cheek with his fingers, sending a spark along her spine. His warm breath blew across her ear. “And then I will finally have you all to myself.”

Terrwyn sighed. Would there ever be a day more perfect than this? She watched him turn to leave and reached for her goblet. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Feredir spun around and took the glass from her. “No more, at least for now.”

She gave him an exaggerated pout then smiled. Feredir walked away, setting the glass on a tray for empty ones and leaned into the ear of a nearby servant who nodded and went to the kitchen. A few moments later, she approached Terrwyn with a glass of something that looked very much like wine. Terrwyn thanked the serving elf and took a sip, making a face. “Ugh, fruit juice,” she said disappointedly.

Remlas watched and laughed at her. He moved his chair closer so that they could hear each other over the music. “Feredir cares a great deal for you doesn’t he?”

“Yes he does,” she spoke dreamily and then realizing who she was speaking to she added. “Oh, but this will not affect my work. I will be back in a few days, refreshed and ready to continue my studies.”

“This is not the time to discuss work and tonight I am not your teacher.”

Terrwyn relaxed a bit. “Thank you Remlas.” She paused before going on. “I must admit, it was quite a surprise to see you here. I did not think this was something that interested you.”

“Despite what you have heard, I still enjoy a good festival time and again. And … well, you are my student and I thought it was appropriate to attend.”

Terrwyn smiled and turned to see where Feredir had gone. He was standing with Orthorien and Laveth. They were laughing and enjoying each other’s company, a very close-knit family. It warmed her heart, but at the same time, she felt sadness. Hathmund was here, and that was the greatest gift she could receive, but she could not help but think about her mother and father. When she was little, she dreamt of sharing this special day with them. Her mother had probably thought the same.

Remlas sensed her mood change. “They are your family now, Terrwyn. The elves do not take such a thing lightly. Laveth loves you as if you were her own daughter.” He had known of her families tragic deaths and felt for the girl. “And I’m sure your father would be very proud of you also . . . your elf father,” he added.

“He would never have known of my existence. He sailed before I was born.”

Since becoming closer to Terrwyn, Remlas had learned more of her life and knew of her past. She had told him about her elvish father, but he had never addressed the issue before. “You are mistaken, Terrwyn. He knew exactly what he was doing when he met your mother. A child must be willed. There can be no mistakes.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand why he did what he did. How can he know he left a child behind and not wonder what became of it, of me. Ever will it plague me as I wonder who he was, what he was like, where he was from and why he sailed knowing he was leaving a part of him behind.”

“Maybe he was lonely. Maybe he was not ready to leave Middle-earth behind and by siring a child, he felt he had not really left, not completely,” Remlas answered.

Terrwyn looked at Remlas curiously and wondered why he took any interest in the subject. He was not the kind to show any emotions, let alone concern about someone he hardly knew. She felt there was something of a more personal level behind his words of comfort. She wanted to ask him about his wife and what happened. Why was it that Remlas lost his loved one and stayed while her father brought life into the world and sailed?

Her confusion and concern must have showed, for Remlas took up her hand in his, squeezing gently. “As I said, they are your family now. You need not think about this anymore. Feredir adores you and will give you a life full of love and honor. Nothing else should matter. Do not grieve for someone you do not know. He was a fool not to have stayed.”

Terrwyn smiled. “Thank you Remlas. No one’s words have meant more to me. I guess it is his loss isn’t it?”

“Whoever he is, I think he regrets his decision. He should have stayed and at least seen his blood, the life he chose to sire,” Remlas replied.

As he finished speaking, Horphen approached her, smiling wide and holding his hand out to her. “My Lady Terrwyn, I would be honored to have a dance with you, if you don’t mind parting from your company.”

She felt a little awkward leaving Remlas now after the conversation they were having. The Master healer pointed towards the dance floor. “Go on my dear. The night is almost through. Enjoy the rest of your evening with friends and family. I think I will be going myself. It was a lovely ceremony, Terrwyn and I am happy for you.”

Terrwyn, being bold and still slightly tipsy from the wine, leaned over and gave Remlas a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t care what they say about you. I think joy net is very appropriate,” she teased, referring to the meaning of his name.

He furrowed his brow and gave her a stern look. “I will let you get away with that just this once, but I never want to hear mention of it again.” His face softened and he smiled as he bowed. “Good evening, Lady Terrwyn.” With that, he left the hall.

Horphen stood by, amazed at what he just saw. “You are the bravest person I have known. No one has ever called him that before and those who have are now peeling potatoes in the kitchen.”

“Remlas is not as bad as everyone makes him out to be, but trust me. I shall not be saying anything so daring to him again,” she answered and Horphen led her to the dance floor.

Feredir was already dancing with Irneth when Terrwyn arrived. Now Horphen took her arm and led her into a dance. Significant others and best friends all whirled around each other in a lively dance. The music turned to something slower and the couples changed their dance patterns.

“Terrwyn, you make such a lovely bride. I know you are already bound, but you truly deserved a day like this,” Horphen said as he twirled her around.

“I may not be here if it weren’t for you. I was never so grateful as I was when you stayed with me in Rohan. It would have been unbearable had I not had your hope and your friendship,” Terrwyn answered.

“Feredir was the true hero, but I will take your praise,” he laughed.

Terrwyn sensed a little loneliness coming from him. “You will be someone’s hero someday. Your heart is true and you are very suave. Some lucky elleth will be swept off her feet by you.”

“Thank you for not telling me what a gentleman I am.”

“You’re secret is safe with me,” Terrwyn smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

“You know, Feredir,” Irneth started as she danced with the dark elf. “I never thought I would see this day. You have changed so much in such a short time.”

“I have Terrwyn to thank for that,” he jested.

“I’m sure she is partly responsible, but I think the best thing you ever did was to settle in Ithilien with the new colony. You needed to get away from here, though I know how much you love your home.”

“A lot has happened to me since I made that decision. It was not easy, especially leaving Mother and Orthorien.” He laughed. “Well, maybe not my brother.”

“I am glad to see that you two have reconciled. And Terrwyn is just so lovely. You could not have chosen a better wife. You will both have a blessed life in Ithilien, I’m sure. It makes me wish I could go there myself.”

“Ithilien would be glad to have you,” Feredir claimed.

The serene moment was interrupted by the tall, handsome, yet wickedly tantalizing brother of the groom as he strolled up to the dancing couple. “If you don’t mind, may I finish out this dance with the lovely Irneth?” Orthorien charmingly asked.

Before Feredir answered, he looked to Irneth. She forced a smile and allowed the dark haired elf to release her. “It’s alright. I promised him a dance.”

Feredir bowed to her and then gestured for Orthorien to take his place. “Behave yourself,” he ordered.

Orthorien held her respectably while they were in the eyes of the other elves. They danced quietly to the unhurried tune, but it was Irneth who spoke first. “Aren’t you worried that your Lindon lover will become upset to see you with me again?” she teased.

“Have you noticed there is no reed pipe in this song or in the last three songs to be exact?”

Irneth looked to the minstrels and notice it was now only the harp and the lute that remained. She looked back at Orthorien, almost feeling sorry for him, but not quite. “I’m sorry things did not work out for you, but you brought it on yourself, you and that wandering eye.”

“The evening is not a complete loss. I have still managed to end it with a beautiful elleth in my arms.”

She gave him an accusing glare. “One song Orthorien … that was the deal.”

Orthorien chortled quietly and spun her around, focusing on the dance more than the conversation. Then he pulled her to him again and slowed his steps. “So tell me, why is it someone as alluring as you has not caught the eye of some unsuspecting ellon by now. It seems both of your sisters have.”

“My sisters are not studying to be an official scribe for the royal court. I don’t have time to think about courtships and betrothals. This is important to me. This is how I want to serve our King,” she claimed. “And aren’t you one to talk. Laveth would feel much more at ease about leaving her sons behind knowing that they are both settled with wives.”

“Yes, well, like you I am not ready for such a commitment. When you have seen as much as I have as a warrior, you learn to appreciate everything around you, to adore the beauty life has to offer. I want to experience it all so that when I finally sail I will be satisfied in knowing that I didn’t miss a thing here in Middle-earth,” he answered honestly.

“Seems to me if you do not find that one thing you cannot live without, then you have missed something.” Irneth was speaking for herself more than for Orthorien. She shook her thoughts and blinked to clear her mind, putting on a forced smile. “I for one am nowhere near ready to leave yet. There is still too much I want to accomplish.”

Orthorien spun around while holding Irneth tightly in his arms, catching her off guard by his sudden movements. He ended it by dipping her backwards and searching her blue eyes with his gold ones. “Since neither of us have any plans on settling with a mate, I say we make a pact.”

Irneth laughed nervously. “A pact? What on sweet earth are you talking about? You are the last person--”

“Exactly,” Orthorien claimed. He brought her upright, but still held her close. “The last person. Neither one of us wants to sail alone, but it may just come down to that. I say we make a pact that if we have not found a mate by then, we sail together.”

Irneth stared at him, mouth open and smiling as she glanced from golden eye to golden eye. She stifled a laugh when she studied him closer. “You are serious aren’t you?”

“I have always admired you, Irneth. You are beautiful and smart and you know how to handle my wicked ways.”

“If you call ignoring you for the past few centuries handling you,” she jested.

“And you are persistent,” Orthorien added. “Come now Irneth, what say you? Besides, we both know that you are bound to meet someone who will steal your heart before the day comes. It’s all in good fun, a foolhardy plan.”

Irneth had to laugh now. “You are insane, you know that?” Orthorien remained silent awaiting her answer. Well, what harm could it do? He was probably right about her meeting and falling in love with someone before they sailed. As soon as she accomplished her goal with the court, she would be free to seek a mate. By that time, Orthorien would have forgotten about her and this silly promise. “Alright then, we have an accord.”

The song ended and the dancers stilled and separated. Before he allowed her to leave the dance floor, Orthorien leaned into her ear and whispered. “Now, how about you come with me back to my comfortable silk sheeted bed and we celebrate our new arrangement.”

Irneth turned to face him, bringing her slightly parted lips within a hairs width from his. Then she patted the side of his face with her hand a little forcefully and smiled. “I’m afraid you’re sleeping alone tonight.” She laughed and spun on her heal. Oh, it felt good to turn him down. Had she said yes, it would have been another huge mistake. Clink … clink … clank . . . Damn that hammer, she thought.

Orthorien watched her walk away. Of all his lovers, there was something about Irneth that held his interest throughout the years. He had claimed her once, but he was so young then and so was she. He had miscalculated her expectations in his rush to know her body, which led to their hapless parting. Oh, the things he could show her now. She had been a very willing partner in the beginning and he imagined how much more compliant she would be since she matured. Perhaps that day would still come, but until then, there were plenty of others willing to play.

* * *

Horphen sat alone at a table, watching Terrwyn and Feredir as they danced the last dance of the evening. The celebration was over. Other than close friends and family, the rest of the guests had left. His night had not turned out as he would have liked, but he felt good about the way he handled Meressel. Although she was of the appropriate age, she was not ready for what he could have given her. He was a fool to think such a thing. It seemed more times than naught, he ended up going home alone. Tonight was no different.

He sipped the remnants of his wine and watched the blessed couple as they forgot about the world around them. Feredir deserved this. He had struggled long and hard throughout his life. It was good that he found his true love and there was no one finer than Terrwyn. It was truly meant to be for them both.

Lost in his thoughts, he did not notice the servant that walked up to him. She was dressed in the appropriate uniform for her job, a simple dark green gown with tapered sleeves embroidered in gold. Her golden hair was pulled back and braided at the sides and in her hands was a carafe of wine.

“Can I refresh your drink for you?” she asked, holding the decanter elegantly in her hands.

“No, I think I’ve had my fill for tonight,” he responded, taking no notice as he covered the glass with his hand.

The elleth walked away, but stopped and turned back to Horphen. She had been watching him all evening, saw him dance and converse with his date and then leave with her on his arm. Now she was surprised to see he had returned to the hall alone. Feeling quite brave, she approached the handsome elf and gathered her nerves. “I cannot help but notice that you have come back without your date. She was very pretty and seemed to be quite taken with you. I hope nothing unfortunate happened.”

Horphen looked up from his seat and noticed the servant more closely. He smiled politely. “Oh no, it was nearing her curfew was all.”

The elleth giggled and Horphen creased his brow at her response. She contained herself quickly. “I mean no disrespect. It’s just … well, I cannot imagine someone as handsome and charming as you escorting anyone with a curfew. She did seem a little young,” she added, hoping not to overstep any boundaries.

“I have been away for a while and I sometimes forget what the elleth are like in Eryn Lasgalen. She is of age, mind you, but you are right, still quite young.” Horphen was curious about this lovely servant and pulled a chair out. “Won’t you have a seat?”

“Oh, well I--,” she stuttered looking back at the kitchen door.

“The night is almost through. I do not think you will get in any trouble for sitting a spell.” He gave her his most winning smile and she sat down immediately. “What is your name?”

“I am Rhawen,” she said looking deep into his eyes.

“I am Horphen.” He held his hand out to her and as she took it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently. Then he cocked his head to the side and asked her another question before things went any further. “You are not training to become a cook are you?”

Rhawen laughed. “No, this is just temporary employment. Actually, I am more interested in medicine like the Lady Terrwyn.”

Horphen gave a sigh of relief. After listening to Meressel go on all night about suckling pigs and stuffed quail, he knew he could not take any more talk of food preparation. “Healing is a noble art,” he started and soon the conversation flourished naturally. He told her about life in Ithilien and she spoke of her yearning to one day leave Eryn Lasgalen and join the colony. The discussion turned to a more personal level as they talked about dates that did not end well and missed opportunities.

Suddenly, someone called out to Rhawen from one of the kitchen doors and she jumped up in alarm. “I hadn’t realized how long I’ve been away. I have to go Horphen, but it was very nice meeting you.”

“Likewise, my lady,” he answered. At least the night ended on a better note than he originally thought. Rhawen was enjoyable company.

She started to dash off, but stopped in her tracks and returned to Horphen. “Some of the kitchen help are meeting in the wine cellars after our job is done here. It’s kind of a tradition, thanks for a job well done for the servants who work so hard. You can come if you like, unless you have other things--.”

“I’d love to, Rhawen,” he interrupted. Their eyes met a moment, some hidden fire sparking between them.

“Good,” she smiled. “Meet me here, by the kitchen entrance. I’ll come for you when we are through cleaning.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he answered in a sultry voice. Rhawen hurried off through the kitchen door, glancing back at Horphen once more and finding him watching her.

He smiled to himself and leaned back in his chair. “The evening is not a waste after all.” Horphen mindlessly picked up the wine goblet and brought it to his lips, tilting the glass up and up until he realized it was empty. He looked around in embarrassment to make sure no one had seen him behave so absentmindedly. No one had and he laughed to himself. Tonight he would not go home alone.

* * *

As the minstrels played their last notes, Feredir pulled Terrwyn to him, looked deep into her eyes and waited for her to kiss him. Her lips were soft and slightly demanding. The night had ended and now they would go off to somewhere more secluded.

The guests who remained gave one last hurrah and sent them on their way. Feredir led Terrwyn through the winding hallways of the palace and she was sure she knew the way until they made a turn or two that she did not recognize. This part of the guest quarters seemed deserted and it was not their regular room he stopped at now.

“Where are we, Feredir?” she laughed as she looked at him peculiarly. “This is not our room.”

“No, this is not, but it is our special hideaway for as long as we like, far from the other guests and residents.” He turned the handle and opened the door slowly, allowing a soft glow to emanate from within. A hearth had been lit and thick fur throws scattered out from in front of it. Terrwyn entered the room after Feredir gave her a slight push and she was amazed by the richness of its décor. Opposite the hearth was a very large bed with four thick wooden posts at each corner carved from birch with the smooth unending lines she had become so accustomed to. They rose almost to the curved ceiling. It seemed more like the alcove in a cave rather than a room, quiet and cozy, a cocoon of comfort. Sheer silky swags draped between the posters, matching the throw below. Upon the bed was with a luxurious coverlet of deep indigo and embroidered with silver thread, the shapes of vines and leaves unmistakable. Next to the bed stood a nightstand lined with mithril candleholders that glimmered beneath the dancing flames. A washstand to the right and a small wardrobe to the left completed the small room. It was obvious that this room served only one purpose and was the reason they were here this night.

“Our very own love nest,” Terrwyn cooed as she clasped her hands together and spun in a circle.

Feredir captured her and she swayed in his arms, dizzy from spinning and from the wine earlier. She looked around at all the delightful things in the room. He released her so she could examine them closer. As she walked around, touching the fine wood grain of the washstand, smelling a fresh bouquet of mixed flowers sitting on a shelf, his eyes followed her every move. She was so elegant as she seemed to float from one side of the room to the other. Terrwyn stopped at the foot of the bed and ran her hand over the coolness of the satin. Feredir came up behind her, placing his hands upon her shoulders and moving her hair to one side, he laid gentle warm kisses upon her neck. Terrwyn smiled thinking how fortunate she was to have him.

His kisses distracted her enough that she did not notice her corset loosening as Feredir unlaced the satin green ribbon. When she suddenly found that her ribs were not being squeezed together and that she could breathe easier, she giggled. “That feels much better.”

“Does it now?” he whispered upon her neck, sliding the corset from her body. His arms snaked around her waist, holding her tight as he pulled her against his chest. She turned in his arms to face him and reached up to the high collar of his uniform’s vest, black with the white tree of Gondor upon the breast. She began undoing the clasps and pushed it from his shoulders. Then her fingers started their meticulous job of unfastening the buttons of his shirt. As she did, she breathed in deep, recognizing his scent, a mixture of nature and desire. When she was finished, Feredir shrugged it from his shoulders where it pooled on the floor at his heels.

She observed the magnificent creature before her, hardened muscles beneath smooth skin. The scars upon his chest seemed to have faded but for the newest ones, the ones he received in Rhûn. It may not have mattered to Feredir, but for Terrwyn it was a constant reminder of his devotion to her, that he risked his life just to see that hers continued. She touched each one with a gentle hand, then kissed them as if she could make them disappear. These were her scars as well as his and she felt responsible for his injuries. Feredir had ignored her concern in the past, saying it was nothing he had never endured before, but she knew the truth, especially with the scar on his collarbone, where the leaf tattoo was seared from his flesh and replaced with the symbol of the Haradrim. The black serpent was gone now, as a result of Feredir begging his best friend, Horphen to stick a hot iron to it, ridding him of the slave’s marking. Feredir was no one’s slave.

The skin in this area was still pink, shiny and thin it seemed, but it no longer caused him any pain and Terrwyn delicately kissed it. She did not linger long as her lips traveled up his neck, along his jaw and chin, to his hungry mouth, which she captured. The kiss was slow and lingering and their bodies crushed against each other, flesh upon flesh.

Terrwyn released him, looking into his silver eyes and finding them full of love for her. From the very beginning, he had the power to ensnare her with just a glance. He did so now as she felt his need for her rising. Yet, there was something she wanted him to know, another thought that plagued her mind. “This should have been our first time. This should have been the night we sealed our bond and I cannot help but feel as though I robbed you of this as well as other things.” Here she lightly grazed a fingertip over the pink scar.

He took up her hand and brought it to his heart. “I do not regret a single decision I have made -- we have made. We were in such emotional turmoil in Rohan. I finally had you back with me and I meant never to let you go again or die upon losing you. I would have been happy with our bond alone and it would have been enough. The fact that we were able to have this marriage blessed only makes it that much sweeter to have you as my wife and to be your husband.” Then Feredir looked down to where the pink scar was. “None of this was your doing. It was my decision, my sacrifice to make to ensure that you would be free.”

“But that tattoo meant something to you. It was from your father and--.”

“It was a black mark upon my flesh, nothing more. I have his memory and that is enough. I have you and that is all that matters now.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it tenderly as his eyes fell upon her, burning with longing. "If ever we must be separated, it will be by distance only, never by spirit.”

Terrwyn brushed the black hair from the side of his face, pushing it behind his ear. Her hand cupped the side of his face as she searched his eyes. “My life belongs to you now, Feredir. All that I am is in your hands. You have taught me to trust in us, to trust in myself. You have made me so happy, fulfilled my childhood dreams and given me a life that I sometimes wonder if I deserve. My love for you will never stop growing.”

They kissed again, this time their hunger increasing with every caress. Freeing themselves from their remaining wedding attire, Feredir gently laid Terrwyn onto their satin bed and covered her with his body. He tasted the soft flesh of her breasts and drank the sweetness of her essence before descending into her depths. In a tangle of limbs, flexing muscles, heaving breath and a chorus of enraptured moans and cries, they made love, revisiting the bond and the promise they made to each other.

For two days, the couple only emerged to eat or to bathe. And when they were done, they slipped back into their love nest, free of worry, free of the world around them, wedded bliss and blessed bond, securely joined by heart, by soul and by love. Together they had purpose. Together . . . they belonged.
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Journey Of A Butterfly