I own nothing.
I. flooded lungs
She feels as though she is made of water, of air, of smoke. She feels as though she is drowning on dry land, but there is none of her beloved saltwater to be found here, none of that clean air. There is the hard stone of the city, and the Shadow in the East. Nothing more.
Finduilas does not know what she leaves behind. She is leaving husband and sons, yes, but she does not know what her death will bring, and does not wish to know. She has not felt as though living for years. It is a relief.
II. flames and smoke
There has been a fire burning beneath his skin, and the skin of his son, and now, at last, he will feel the flames on his flesh rather than simply feel them in his bones. The acrid stench of smoke and oil fills the air, but he pays it no heed.
Denethor knows what he leaves behind: a city in chaos, a world burning in darkness. His mind has been bent towards duty, but he cares no more. There is nothing left for this world. He has not loved it since his beloved died. Immolation and death is a relief.