Return to Valinor

If Galadriel was surprised to see the lovers so early, she showed no sign of it. Graciously she invited them all into her solar and sent an elfmaid in her service to summon Elrond, Celebrían and Gandalf.

While they were waiting, the Lady of Light served them a light breakfast of warm brown bread with butter and honey washed down with glasses of crisp, clear water. Frodo took up a shiny red apple and split it in two to offer Carantaliel the other half.

Bilbo watched them with curiosity, finally realizing at last what was soon to transpire. He was of two minds regarding their relationship, but decided to see how events unfolded before voicing any doubts or misgivings.

Gandalf arrived first looking quite sober, but as he passed Frodo he winked and the hobbit knew the wizard supported them at least. Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían joined them moments later. The elflord looked grim but resigned, but the lady was tense and Frodo realized at this point that Galadriel’s daughter was going to be the difficult one to convince.

Since it was the Lady of Light who called them together they all waited for her to invite the discussion to begin. Emotions were running high, so Galadriel did not keep them in suspense and spoke, “Well, Frodo… Cara… you mentioned yesterday that you had much to tell us. We are all ears…” She smiled at her little joke and it put the lovers at ease.

Slowly Frodo stood and faced the Elven couple. “You asked us, my lord,” he addressed Elrond, “where Cara and I had been when you had been looking for us, implying perhaps that we were more wrapped up in each other than concerned for Thorondil’s well-being.” Elrond nodded slightly, acknowledging his reservations. “While it’s true that my feelings for Cara are new and exciting, and that we are enjoying the freshness of being together and being happy after enduring such a long time of despair, our reason for going off on our own yesterday is as much about Thorondil’s fall than having private time alone with one another.”

Carantaliel joined Frodo, standing steadfastly by his side. “Frodo speaks the truth, herumin,” she added breathlessly. “As I told you before, I dreamed of yesterday’s events. Frodo did so too. However, there was more to my dream that upset me greatly.” The Elven princess paused to gather herself and Frodo reached out a comforting hand to her, which she took in her own with a steadying breath. “Hannon lle, melethnín ,” she whispered to him.

“What can have you so upset, Cara?” asked Celebrían, bewildered more and more with how this meeting was transpiring.

“Tellonnion…” Carantaliel spoke, the terror in her voice barely masked by her Elven calm. “I could not see him in my dream, but I sensed him there.”

“But that is good news!” exclaimed Celebrían.

“No, my lady,” said her granddaughter sadly. “It is most definitely not good news.”

“I don’t understand, Cara. Why would Tellonnion being alive be bad news?”

Tears welled in Carantaliel’s eyes, “My lady, please don’t force me to be plain. When last he was seen, Tellonnion was carried off by orcs. If he is alive…” she let the thought hang for just a moment. “It cannot be good.”

Celebrían knew only too well what was possible at the hands of the cruel orcs. She swallowed any further comment, subsiding with a bleak look on her elegant face. Elrond watched his wife for a long moment then quietly slipped his strong hand into hers with an understanding squeeze.

Gandalf picked up the conversation, “Where then did you go, my friends?”

“Cara and I had shared the information of the eagle, but there was more that I did not yet know and she took me someplace more private than the beach to discuss it,” said Frodo carefully.

“Frodo is being circumspect for my sake,” broke in Carantaliel. “I took him to my private sanctuary. It’s a place I set up long ago to mourn Tellonnion. There was more than just my dream I needed to share with him. Frodo had not heard about my sorrows and I felt he needed to know all before something happened.”

“What do you think is going to happen, my dear?” asked Galadriel gently.

“Nothing good, Lady,” she replied. “I cannot put it into words, but the foreboding in my heart weighs heavily. I had to speak to Frodo about these things.”

“She is afraid we will be parted,” added Frodo. “I was determined she know that even if something should happen to keep us away from one another that I would be with her all the same.”

“So you gave her the Evenstar’s gift?” asked Elrond evenly.

“Yes,” answered the hobbit. “It was a pledge.”

Elrond looked to his granddaughter, “And you have accepted this pledge, Cara?”

“I have,” she answered boldly.

In a small voice, Celebrían asked, “And what of Lord Figwit?”

“My lady,” sighed Carantaliel, sorry to disappoint her grandmother, “I wish my answer could make you happy, but I never had any intention of joining with Lord Figwit. He knows this and I have never led him to believe otherwise. I cannot explain why he clings to hope when there is none.”

“There is always hope,” said Celebrían.

“Not in this case, my lady.”

Completely defeated, Celebrían visibly sagged. Feeling compassion for the lady, Frodo went to her and knelt at her feet. Taking her hand he said earnestly, “My lady, I love Cara. I know I am not the elflord you dreamt for your granddaughter, but surely my devotion for her should count for something? I would put her before my own life, I swear to you. I will do the same for your family as well…”

“That is grave promise, Frodo,” said Elrond.

“Do you doubt that I’ll make good on it, my lord?” asked Frodo fearlessly. “Did my journey to Mount Doom count for nothing with you?”

Frodo was certain Elrond would be affronted by his words, but to his surprise the elflord merely raised a slim eyebrow and said, “I do not doubt you, my friend. Forgive me if it seemed so.”

Offering Elrond his hand, the hobbit grinned, “Hannon lle, mellon nin. ”

As the elflord clasped Frodo’s hand, Gandalf grinned with a merry twinkle in his eye, “Well, it sounds like it’s official. As far as I’m concerned that calls for a party of some sort. What do you say, Bilbo?”

The wizard turned to his old friend and was startled to see a rather serious expression on the old hobbit’s face.

“I’d say that no one’s consulted me on anything before, so why should you start now?” he groused.

With a look of amusement mixed with incredulity, his cousin asked, “Bilbo, what in the name of the Thain are you talking about?”

“Well, am I not your guardian? I don’t see you asking for my permission to marry.”

Slowly, Frodo walked towards his cousin, “Bilbo, I do believe you’re serious…”

“And why shouldn’t I be? Your parents left you in my care. It’s my responsibility to look out for you when you are about to do something foolish. We Bagginses are meant to be bachelors – you’ve said it yourself.”

“No, I seem to remember that it was you who said so. I merely said I didn’t think I was marriageable material,” he looked back at Carantaliel fondly, “but Cara has convinced me otherwise.”

Huffily the elder hobbit crossed his arms and said, “How am I supposed to make do without you? I thought we’d be moving soon into that hobbit hole you’ve been working on and living out our days in quiet work and contemplative study.”

Carantaliel understood his objections instantly and crossed the solar to sit next to him. “My dear Bilbo,” she said soothingly, “nothing need change those plans. There was never any question in our minds that you would be living in the hobbit hole.” Putting her arms around him, she gave him a brief hug. “Please don’t disappoint us and say you cannot live with us…”

Bilbo rather enjoyed the hug, but he tried to maintain a veneer of detachment, “If you insist, my dear.”

“I do insist,” declared Carantaliel. “And you must plan this celebration for us, Bilbo. I have heard tales about your famous eleventy-first birthday party, and you seem like the right hobbit for the job.”

As soon as Bilbo felt included in the proceedings he was quite amenable to everything and joined in with as much merriment as Frodo and Carantaliel could hope. However, the Elven princess knew of one person in Enedvása that was not going to be happy about their announcement. While her family and Bilbo and Gandalf were discussing plans, Carantaliel drew Frodo to one side for a private moment.

“Frodo, make my excuses for me, melethnín,” she murmured. “I must go speak with Figwit before word of this gets around the palace.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?”

Wistfully, she smiled, “I think it best that I tell him alone. His honor is dear to him and this will be a blow, I think. I won’t be gone long.”

“Very well,” he said, “but if you are not back within the hour I’m coming to look for you.”

Her answer was to caress his cheek with a soft hand, leaning in to kiss him tenderly. Frodo covered her hand with his own and when they parted he brought her palm lightly to his lips. He watched her go for a long moment then thoughtfully returned to the discussion across the room. He hoped Figwit’s honor was precious enough to him to take the news graciously.


Carantaliel was thinking much the same thing as she looked for Figwit around the palace. She tried his apartments first, but found them empty. However, on the way down to the main hall, she encountered Figwit’s friend Nandoril who told her Figwit could be found in the stables.

His information was correct and Carantaliel paused on the threshold of the stables to gather her thoughts while she watched the elflord for a few quiet moments. The air in the structure was warm and close, and Figwit had stripped down to the waist while he inspected each of his mount’s shoes. Quietly he crooned to the bay stallion he called Maikakemenion, gentling him with soft words as the horse fidgeted uneasily.

To her surprise she found her would-be suitor well muscled and toned. Figwit usually favored the flowing robes of a courtier rather than the more form-fitting breeches and tunic of a more active elf. Carantaliel had always thought him rather soft, but appearances apparently were deceiving. Still, his trim form held no interest for her. Tellonnion had been a vigorous elf, but that was not the only thing that had drawn her to him. His charm and the ease with which he related to others were very attractive to her. As she thought back on it now, those were the very qualities that led to his downfall…

Suddenly Carantaliel had a flash of dream that she had not remembered since before she came to Valinor. There was much more about Tellonnion’s disappearance that she never shared with anyone, not even her family. She had forgotten it for a reason. Why now did she recall it?

Figwit heard Carantaliel gasp quietly and he looked up at her. As he straightened up, he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t realize how warm the day was growing,” she covered easily. “The closeness took my breath away.”

Figwit stood tall, proudly preening to show his chiseled body to best advantage. “Is there nothing else here to make you breathless, Cara?” he asked, his voice as sultry as the air around them.

Yet her glance barely skimmed over him to land instead on his coppery mount. “Of course, Maikakemenion always leaves me breathless, my lord,” Carantaliel replied noncommittally as she stroked the horse’s nose and sneaked him a bite of apple. “You have a magnificent mount.”

The princess sensed Figwit’s tense anger at her dismissal of him, but kept her attention focused on the beast in front of her, not relishing having to add disappointment to the elflord’s wrath. Still, there was no help for it. Carantaliel needed to make him understand in no uncertain terms that there was no chance of their union.

When Figwit remained stonily silent for some time, she finally steeled her nerve and spoke, “I was actually looking for you, my lord. I need to have serious a conversation with you.”

His voice was filled with unexpected tenderness as he asked, “Does that mean you are ready to entertain my proposal at last, melethnín?”

“Please don’t call me that, my lord,” she insisted. “I have never wanted that and it only frustrates you and me both when I have to refuse you.”

Figwit clamped a strong hand on her upper arm and seized Carantaliel, pulling her close to him and snaking his arm around her waist. “Why must you refuse me, Cara? I have much to offer a potential mate. Is there nothing about me that you find appealing?”

Her blue-green eyes glittered darkly with suppressed annoyance as she replied, “Nothing.”

Taut emotion hung in the air, passion and anger feeding the moment. The elflord gazed down at the she-elf before him, looking for some indication that her words belied her feelings.

Carantaliel withstood his intense gaze, though she was beginning to tremble in his arms. Mistaking anger for ardor, Figwit bent his head to meet her lips, his mouth pressing against hers with an almost bruising pressure.

As he pressed her unwilling body close to his, Carantaliel could feel Figwit’s heart throbbing in his bare chest, but she remained unmoved. She endured his boorish kiss, if only to prove to him that she felt no desire for him whatsoever.

When the Elven princess would not respond to him, the elflord finally released her lips, though he only slightly loosened his grip around her waist.

“There’s no one about,” he murmured. “I could take you right here…”

Her turquoise eyes never wavered from his steely gray ones as she challenged back, “But you won’t. Your honor means more than that to you, Figwit.” Carantaliel saw brief consternation cross his face, which was quickly replaced with his customary aloof mask.

“Come now…” he rasped in her ear then buried his face in her smooth neck, “desire cannot be dead, even after so long, Cara. It’s been centuries since you’ve been with a lover. Why not let me…”

She stopped him before he could voice that thought, “You would be mistaken, my lord. I’ve been with my lover quite recently.” The elf froze and suddenly looked at her with puzzlement. “Frodo and I ple…”

“Frodo! Cara, you cannot be serious!” he laughed mirthlessly. “How do you expect to have a real relationship with that man-child?”

There was a chill in Carantaliel’s voice that Figwit had never heard from her even at her most vexing, “There is nothing childish about Frodo, my lord. We have pledged ourselves to one another,” she announced, making sure the white pendant was clearly visible, “and my family has accepted him as my betrothed.” Figwit was utterly speechless when he saw the necklace and all his bravado suddenly evaporated. “I thought you should hear it from me rather than through palace gossip.”

“Is there a problem here?” asked a light, reedy voice.

Breathing a sigh of relief that Frodo had come looking for her, Carantaliel answered calmly, “Lord Figwit was just congratulating me on our betrothal.” She could see the internal struggle going on behind those pale eyes and she reminded Figwit with a significant glance at his unwanted embrace that he had no right to treat her in such a masterful way.

“Indeed?” asked Frodo, raising an eyebrow at the elflord.

If Carantaliel knew anything about Figwit, she understood how proud he was. While his pride might be reluctant to admit defeat, it would not let him beg for a woman who took such pains to spurn him.

Slowly, Figwit released Carantaliel growling, “Indeed. I wish you both joy.”

Taking up his discarded shirt, the elflord stalked out of the stables leaving his tense wrath hanging in the air.

Going to his beloved, Frodo put a gentle arm around her waist. “Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“I’m all right,” she answered taking a deep breath, “but I’m very grateful you came when you did.”

“You’re shaking,” he said and led her to a nearby barrel. “Come sit down.”

“I just need to catch my breath… I’m a little dizzy…”

Frodo pulled out a flask from his trousers and unstoppered it to offer Carantaliel a sip, “Here… drink a little of this.”

The she-elf barely put the flask to her lips and came away gasping. “Elbereth! What is that?”

Grinning, the halfling put the small bottle briefly to his own lips. “Silith,” he answered, hardly effected by the liquor at all. “I thought this might be called for after an encounter with Lord Figwit.”

“Silith,” Carantaliel repeated the unfamiliar word. “Moon Shine? I’ve never heard of it before…”

“An excellent spirit,” he offered it to her again, but she shook her head. “I got it from a Shieldmaiden of Rohan.”

“Another concoction of Lady Gliowien’s?” she asked.

“No, this was from Lady Saelind, a healer of great skill though she be human. I believe she might have had some special training with your kin.”

“Just how many of these Shieldmaidens are there? And how many have given you gifts?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Jealous, melethnín?” he grinned.

“Should I be?”

Frodo laughed, “Well, I cut a rather pathetic swath among them, I’m afraid. The Pounce are warm, compassionate women and they were wont to take care of me.”

“I’m beginning to see a pattern forming, I think,” she smiled up at him.

Tenderly he pushed a damp tendril away from her face, “No one takes care of me as well as you do, Cara.”

“You two have a habit of wandering off alone when others are looking for you,” spoke Gandalf as he appeared at the stable doors. He looked seemingly grim, but Frodo caught the amused twinkle in the wizard’s ice blue eyes. “By the look of Lord Figwit just now, I assume you have told him your news? How did he take it?”

Carantaliel sighed, “As well as can be expected I suppose. I cannot imagine why he should take it so hard…”

Suddenly the she-elf experienced a soft, fluttery feeling inside her. It was neither nausea nor hunger, but rather the quick sense of rushing wings under her heart that left her breathless.

Gandalf caught the brief startled look that crossed her face, but said nothing as Carantaliel quickly covered it when Frodo said, “Figwit had spoken of your union to me on my first day here as all but inevitable. It does not surprise me that he finds your refusal so hard to believe.”

“There is no turning back now,” Carantaliel replied, glancing up at the wizard, “even if I would choose to…” then turned back to smile at Frodo, “which, of course, I do not. Mithrandir, you said someone was looking for us again?”

“Indeed, my dear,” he confirmed. “Thorondil is restless and no one seems able to comfort him. It is hoped that he may respond to you both.”

The pair readily agreed to go back down to the beach to check on the wounded eagle. Gandalf accompanied them and watched while they worked to comfort the beast.

As midday came and went, Thorondil finally relaxed and fell into uneasy slumber once again. Frodo had sat against the eagle’s massive shoulder and dozed off himself, but Carantaliel paced anxiously as she continued to murmur her healing prayers.

The wizard was concerned about the eagle, but it was Carantaliel who he watched closest. A thought had come to him in the stables and it continued to occupy him while on the beach.

“Dear girl,” he spoke kindly to her at last, “you are wrung out. Thorondil sleeps and so should you.”

“I am uncommonly weary,” she agreed, “but I don’t want to leave Frodo here alone with him.”

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Do not worry about Frodo, my dear. I will stay with him and with Thorondil for now.” Gandalf gave a sharp whistle and Shadowfax pricked up his ears. The meara had remained with the fallen eagle since he was removed from the water, wandering the beach nervously while others tended to the beast. Yet, he came readily at the wizard’s summons. “My friend,” he spoke to the great horse, “I see that you are feeling helpless, but there is something you may do. Will you not take the lady back to the palace? She has toiled day and night for our friend here and needs her rest.”

Shadowfax seemed to size Carantaliel up and down, for he did not suffer anyone else to ride him but Gandalf. The she-elf began to protest, but the horse whinnied at Gandalf, bowing his head deeply up and down.

“Hannon lle, herumin, ” she murmured gratefully to Shadowfax.

The Istari boosted her up onto the great beast’s back as he said, “Quel esta, Tarsulëwen .”

Carantaliel gave him a puzzled look, “You know?”

“Seek out the Lady soon, my dear,” he squeezed her hand affectionately. “Galadriel will know for certain.”

She said nothing more, only nodding once as she urged Shadowfax onward. The meara was soon gone with his precious passenger, but the wizard stood some time watching after them thoughtfully.


-end of Chapter Thirteen-

"Silith" is the creation of fellow bard & friend Saelind who graciously allowed me to mention it in my tale. Hannon lle, mellon nin!