Return to Valinor

Frodo was disappointed when Carantaliel was not available to join him the next morning. He waited longer than he usually would have to get started at the glade and when she did not show, the hobbit went in search of her.

Not knowing where her apartments lay in the palace, he wandered around the common rooms until he found someone to answer his inquiries. He caught Fimbelis along the way and asked after her friend.

“I’m on my way to see her now, Master Frodo,” the elfmaid answered. “Lady Celebrían had need of her this morning and she does not know when she will be free. I will certainly give her any message…”

“No, no… no message really…” he tried to hide is disappointment. “Just wish her well for me. I am off to the glade to work then.”

“She will be sorry to have missed you, I’m sure.”


Carantaliel was indeed sorry. She was sorry that she was ensnared by her grandmother to wait upon her indefinitely all day. Fimbelis had relayed Frodo’s brief message and Carantaliel chafed at having to sit placidly amid the other Elven ladies of the court sewing on a bit of tapestry and listening to idle chatter. Celebrían had never demanded this of her in the past. She very much felt she was being led into a trap.

The trap was getting tighter she realized when dinner that night turned out to be a private affair among her family – and Lord Figwit. Neither Fimbelis nor Frodo, nor indeed any of the newcomers were invited to join them. A few other courtiers rounded out the party, but Carantaliel knew them only slightly.

As they sat uncomfortably at table, Carantaliel threw a desperate look at Elrond at the end of the table. Imperceptibly he shook his head and Carantaliel knew it was no use to protest.

Gaily, Celebrían kept the conversation going and the evening was lively enough on the surface. However, both Galadriel and Elrond were thoughtfully silent for the most part and that gave the trapped she-elf some comfort.

What made her uncomfortable, however, was the feeling that Lord Figwit stared at her the entire evening. Every time she looked up at him his attention was directed elsewhere, but that did not alleviate the feeling that his dark eyes were boring into her very being.

By the cheese course Carantaliel felt so anxious and penned in that she had to flee the room. With a brief apology to the other guests and her family, she headed for the balcony to get some fresh air.

Her respite was to be brief, however, as Figwit soon joined her.

“Are you feeling all right, my lady?” he asked solicitously. “You are pale…”

“Oh!” she started at his voice and wheeled to face him. “It… it was a little close in there. I just needed to come outside for a moment. I feel much better. Let us return to the table…”

“Why be hasty, Cara?” he asked softly.

She could tell he was trying to be kind and affectionate, so she was not sharp with him. “Please, my lord. This is not a good idea…”

Gently he put a hand on her arm and drew her towards him. “Don’t go please. Cara, you know how I feel about you. Why won’t you hear me out?”

“I know how you think you feel about me, Figwit,” she replied, “but I am not who you really want. We would be at odds every moment of every day. Is this how you really want to spend the long days of our lives?”

“Why must we be at odds, melethnín ? I only want to make you happy.”

“Figwit, please don’t…” she eased free of his embrace. “I do not want to be cruel, but there is nothing you have to offer that will make me happy.”

Again she saw the deep hurt in his eyes, but she could not nor would not take back what she said. “You love another then?” he asked bitterly.

“You know the answer to that, my lord.”

“What makes you think the hobbit can succeed where I have failed?” he asked with suppressed anger. “He’s not even of your own race…”

“The hobbit? I…” she asked with surprise. She had started to say that it was Tellonnion who she had on her mind. However, when pressed Carantaliel realized she would not be able to deny that she had feelings for Frodo. Whatever the lingering despair was that she endured over the fate of her Elven betrothed, it was being assuaged at last by her blossoming attachment for the hobbit.

Suddenly, though, her indignation rose to the surface at his frank dismissal of Frodo.

“My feelings for Master Baggins are private, my lord,” she said coldly. “I was speaking of Tellonnion just now. Do not think because you have come to Enedvása that my grief for my fallen love is so easily put aside. I beg you, do not persist in putting forth your suit to me again. I cannot nor will not accept it, my lord.”

His anger was now barely contained, “You are being obstinate on principle now, my lady. I have the support of your family. You must bow to them sooner or later.”

“That is where you are wrong, my lord. They will never force me to do something against my better judgement.” Suddenly, she thawed just a little, “Figwit, you are just as stubborn. Fimbelis loves you. She came to Enedvása only because of you. Why will you not speak to her?”

“She does not love me,” he stated flatly, though Carantaliel saw brief hope cross his face.

“Fimbelis has told me so herself,” she assured him. “You must give her a chance to explain, Figwit.”

“She is a fickle elfchild who doesn’t know what she wants,” Figwit replied.

“That is unfair, my lord!”

“Is something the matter, Cara? Lord Figwit?” asked Galadriel calmly.

Carantaliel looked up at the Lady of Light with relief, but she bit back an impulsive explanation. Instead she took a deep breath and replied, “Lord Figwit and I were having a discussion, but could not come to an agreement.”

Galadriel raised a slim eyebrow and turned her attention to the elflord. He, too, refrained from showing his displeasure and merely nodded gravely.

“Indeed?” spoke Galadriel. “My lord, would you give me a moment with Carantaliel?”

Figwit bowed deeply but Carantaliel saw a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he rose. After he left, she let out a shaky breath and covered her face to hide the frightened tears brimming her blue-green eyes.

“Oh, please, my lady… please don’t force me…” she moaned.

“Force you?” Galadriel repeated. “Force you to do what, my child?”

Carantaliel looked up finally and replied, “Lord Figwit has told me he has your support for our marriage.”

The Lady of Light neither confirmed nor denied that statement, rather asking instead, “You do not wish to marry Lord Figwit, Cara?”

“No!” she gasped desperately.

“I see.”

Carantaliel could not read Galadriel’s expression. Again, there was neither confirmation nor denial on her face.

“I do not see, Lady,” she whispered. “Do you really want me to marry him?”

Neutrally Galadriel replied, “I want you to do what is in your heart, my child.”

“My heart tells me that I cannot marry Figwit,” Carantaliel said firmly, though her voice still trembled with repressed emotion. “I do not love him and I cannot make him happy.”

“Then you must not marry him, Cara,” said Galadriel. As hope once more sprang into the younger she-elf’s heart, the Lady of Light held up a slender hand. “But know this, cormamin . If you choose the other path, anguish will come before bliss.”

“That is what Varda has said to me as well,” she said. “I don’t know what kind of anguish could be more unbearable then living all my days with a lifemate I cannot love.”

“Then may the Valar protect you, my child,” she responded and Carantaliel thought she saw profound sadness in her great-grandmother’s eyes. For a moment she was terrified for what that might mean, but she knew she was right not to accept Figwit’s proposal.


The subject, alas, was still not exhausted by morning. Once again, Celebrían called Carantaliel to her, but she found herself alone with her gracefully lovely grandmother when she arrived at her apartments.

“Did you send for me, my lady?” asked Carantaliel with confusion. “Where is everyone?”

“I sent them away for now,” replied Celebrían. “I want to have a serious conversation with you this morning.”

Suddenly, Carantaliel felt trapped once again and she edged her way towards the door.

“About what, my lady?” she asked, although she knew that Figwit had to be the topic of discussion.

“Lord Figwit tells me you are reluctant to accept his marriage proposal.”

“There is no reluctance about it, my lady,” stated Carantaliel firmly. “I flatly refused to marry him.”

Celebrían frowned at her granddaughter’s impudence. “You are being unreasonable, Cara. Now stop being a silly elfchild and listen to Lord Figwit’s proposal.”

“I have listened to his proposal countless times, my lady,” she said, “and there is nothing more he can say to me that will induce me to accept it.”

The argument deteriorated from there. Carantaliel knew she should not be so impertinent with Celebrían, but she did not feel it fair that her grandmother ambushed her in such a manner.

Their discussion was interrupted finally by Lord Elrond coming to see what all the shouting was about in his wife’s private solar. Carantaliel did not wait to hear Celebrían’s explanation and she fled not only the apartments but the palace as well.


-end of Chapter Eight-

melethnín - my love
cormamin - my heart