Chapter three
         
          It was Finduilas who broke the heavy silence. Tidying up her hair and trying to avoid Imrahil's intent gaze, she adjusted her shawl, stood up and took Faramir in her arms. Then she came up to the children who had stopped playing but could not understand what was going on and beckoned to them all, "Come, children, sit down and help yourselves to the birthday cake!" And after a momentary pause, as if nothing had happened, she addressed Imrahil sweetly, "And you too," and smiled guiltily.
         
          Late in the night, when the children were in bed, Imrahil and Finduilas sat down at the empty table.
          "What has happened to Denethor of late?" asked the Prince, "Why was he so angry? This was low of him. And in front of all the children...."
          "I was surprised, too," replied Finduilas and shrugged, "I have never seen him in such a state."
          "What do you think about coming to Dol Amroth for a stay?"
          "Imrahil, do you not understand what you are saying? I can't go without Denethor's leave, and he won't grant it. I do not doubt your care, but... I cannot leave Minas Tirith. Besides, I do not feel too well now. My heart lets me know of it from time to time." With that she let her head rest upon his shoulder. And Imrahil noticed a teardrop rolling down her cheek. " I miss our home so much! Alas, nothing can be done about that... I love him, but sometimes it seems to me that I will not live long by my love's side..."
          "Does he know about your heartache?"
          "No, for I've never told him about it. In fact I don't mean to. He is always so busy with governmental matters that I thought this would but upset him."
          Imrahil did not answer, but sighed and took her hand in his. Thus they sat for some time gazing at flame, which was fading away in the fireplace. At last Finduilas said, "I think I should go and talk to Denethor. He has not showed up since he left. I need to see him."
          "Don't distress yourself too much, sister," Prince Imrahil embraced her.
          "Well, I hope," Finduilas answered quietly, "But I feel I must go to my husband. I can't leave him alone just like that. Maybe he feels bad about what he has done, and I will seek to comfort him."
          "Well, go, if go you must, sister," said Imrahil, "But do not spend all your strength on reassuring him. He will calm down gradually. Meanwhile I think I should go home tomorrow."
          "All right. Good night, I hope the room we have prepared for you suits you."
          "Good night, and thank you for your care."
          Finduilas walked slowly towards her and Denethor's room. But her husband was not there, and she guessed that he had gone to his own study, where he would admit none but her, and which was located on the topmost floor of the tower. Finduilas began to climb the winding staircase towards the Steward's chamber. But the room was situated very high, and when she was almost at the top, Finduilas felt her heart pounding. Great weariness came over her like a cloud. She stopped and leaned against the wall to take her breath. At that moment she saw distinctly the face of her husband when he had shouted at Faramir and Imrahil in the Hall, and she felt a stinging pain in her heart. In order not to fall off her feet, Finduilas gripped the railing. Her head was swimming and she had to stand thus for a few moments, coming to herself slowly. While standing, Finduilas clearly heard footsteps from above. Someone seemed to be pacing the room to and fro, over and over again. Then the footsteps ceased. Finduilas hastened again up the stairs, fearing that something bad could happen. At last she reached the landing in front of a small circular room. The door was slightly opened, and to her surprise Finduilas saw a pale bluish light coming out of the room through the narrow opening. She opened the door quietly. As she peeked into the room, the dark silhouette of Denethor, who was sitting with his back to the door at his desk, piled with papers, was before her eyes. And from behind his shoulders for one single moment she glimpsed an aureole of that bluish light she saw through the opening. But as he heard the door creak, Denethor clutched a piece of cloth lying on the table beside him and threw it over something, and immediately all went dark, except for the dim light of a candle standing upon the Steward's desk. He turned abruptly, and something in his eyes startled Finduilas.
          "Finduilas?" he asked, surprised.
          She came up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Please, Denethor, I need to talk to you. And, by the way, what was that strange light I saw?"
          He did not answer. He turned away, bent his head and buried his face in his hands.
          "Denethor," Finduilas continued. "I wanted to ask you to calm down, please. The children were frightened at your actions, and Faramir most of all."
          The Steward raised his head; his hands clenched on the table in front of him, and stared with almost mad eyes right in front of him, as if seeing something that no one could see. "And so let him be! He will know what it means to reject his Father's attention!" he muttered at last.
          "Denethor, be reasonable," said Finduilas, "Faramir simply liked the book more than the weapon... So, what's wrong?"
          "I wished a girl, and now I have a boy with a girl's heart!" exclaimed Denethor, "And that is unbearable! Imagine: he will have to defend his land when he grows to manhood, and he can't hold a weapon in his hands!"
          "Please, Denethor," Finduilas asked him, "Let Faramir be for a while. Wait but a little, and he will enjoy your gifts of this sort. He will be a great man. I feel it with my heart! But for now try and understand, that at this age even a boy is interested in other things..."
          "Boromir wasn't! None of these books will find its way into the Citadel as long as I live! Tell your Imrahil that he's changing and spoiling the nature of my son to what I do not wish him to become. Do note that I shall throw every stupid book of his into the fire, and I shall forbid him to read from now on!" Denethor stood up and came over to his wife as if trying to hurt her.
          "But," Finduilas pleaded, "Please don't forbid him too much, for without reading he will not be a full-fledged child..."
          "He will be a dolt!"
          At those words of her husband Finduilas clutched at her heart suddenly and would have collapsed, but Denethor instinctively caught her into his arms, "What? What's the matter with you?! Oh, dear... Are you all right?" At the sight of unconsciousness of his wife the Steward came to himself.
          Still holding her, with one free hand the Steward reached for a jug of water that stood on his desk. Wetting his hand in it, he drenched Finduilas's brow, and then looked into her eyes, "My love?..."
          She opened her eyes slowly, gradually recognizing things about her. Easing Finduilas onto a chair, Denethor knelt before her and touched her hand, "I am sorry. Forgive me, I was just very...you know, frustrated. Please, don't take this to heart... All right?"
          She nodded weakly.
          The Steward embraced her and said, "Well, he may read if you want him to. Only do feel better, please, for you know I love you."