The Dark
Disclaimer: All characters and settings created by Tolkien and now belong to their respective owners.
Author's Note: According the Volume Twelve of the Histories of Middle-Earth, Caranthir had a wife. I am exploring this by writing this short fic in which she muses on her relationship with him. Constructive Criticism much appreciated.
The waves lapped at the sand. Her eyes wandered over the horizon, passing the setting sun, passing the flying gulls, forgetting time, forgetting space.
I stood in the river, knee deep in the current. I did not know what to believe. Was it true? Was he true? Was I hearing his voice in my head, repeating my name?
And then he was gone, gone from day and night. So many years, so many years went by for us. Yet so few they were, so far between.
I hated him. I loved him. I did not comprehend him. I nearly killed him for taking the Oath. But who was I to stand in the way of a son of Feanor? Who was I, a small woman with braided hair and soft shoes to say to my husband to keep him from speaking fateful words?
A gull landed by her still figure. It stepped haphazardly across the sand. Her eyes watched a scene from the past, from before there was a past.
"What did you expect of me?"
"Nothing, nothing…"
"Would you not step forward to take back that which was stolen?"
"I…I don't…I can't…"
"I do this because I must, because there is no other way for me to live. My father needs me, my brothers need me."
"Always they need you. I--"
"I know…"
And he was gone. He had faltered, his usual demeanor gone when he saw my face. I had stood there, in the torchlight with the others. I had seen the blood drip off the swords. I had heard the cries of agony. I had felt the tears well up in my eyes.
I braided his hair that night. I took it out and braided it again and again in a thousand desperate attempts to keep him from his oath. My hands trembled, my braids were weak. They could not keep the power of the Oath bound like a strand of hair.
The gull tilted its head. The woman took a step forward, toward the setting sun.
I threw my life away for him. I was solely myself for him. There was nothing I did that was not for him.
I followed him far from our home. I followed his father, his brothers, and his Oath. I could have stayed behind, I could have refused. I knew I would always have a home in the house of my father and mother. But I saw only him. I saw his eyes, dark as night, and his hair, beautiful as the earth. I saw his hands, calloused from the sword I hated. I saw his back, bent from his worries.
I loved him.
Oh, how much I gave for him! I hated him. Everyday he was gone I cursed him with all my mind, all my spirit, all my body. I cried to myself that I wanted him dead, I wanted his brothers dead, and most of all I wanted his father dead.
Day and night are different, one of his brothers once told me. I did not understand what he meant, but I smiled and agreed.
I understand now.
I understand why for so many years I distanced myself from him. I understand why I wove, why I learned to wield a knife, and why I ran. I know now that night and day are different. He was the darkness which consumed me and I was the light that died.
I know that night and day are different. I know why I threw myself to him. I know why I loved him and why I followed him. I know that without light, there is no darkness.
I wished, oh how I wished, that I could speak to him. But I was mute, I could no more lift my voice to him then I could lift a blade to child. He charmed me, with his voice and his eyes. He frightened me, with his voice and his eyes.
Yet, I loved him.
The gull stepped away from the woman, leaving strange prints in the sand. Footprints to mark his going…and his coming.
How could I survive him? Was it by some miracle? Or was it by some curse?
The day he died, I wept and I laughed. For finally, I thought, I could raise my voice to his dead spirit! I could cry out to Mandos and plead that he hold my husband bound with chains!
But I wept for him, for he was my life. We were one, yet we were two. I longed for him when he was away and longed for him when he was beside me. When he was beside me, I could not speak to him. His tongue was sharp as a thousand knives. His voice was as soft as the finest cloth.
He walked over my soul and I welcomed the marks he left. His hand in mine left burns. His mouth on mine left tears on my lips. His touch on my face left bruises. His touch on my body left blood. Yet, I welcomed all of it. I wanted it. I needed it. My voice was gone.
He is dead. And I know now that I too took the Oath. I know that I too that I was swept up in its course.
I know that my love for Caranthir is my Oath.
The gull looked back one last time at the strange woman. A single tear fell onto the sand.
I cannot lift my voice to him still.
End.