For as much as Elrond wished he could leave Denethor to rot, he knew too well that he needed to deal with him soon and rapidly. Estel had woken an hour after nearly being choked nearly to death. Though Estel was fine and just needed rest and a steady dosing of restorative teas that even the twins could prepare, Elrond hesitated to leave his son's chambers. He found excuses to stay, be it keeping Estel calm and reassuring him that he would deal with everything (even if he told himself that he was sheltering the young Man far too much), spending time with Faramir, so on. Elrond knew he was really only putting off dealing with Denethor.
The whole situation had unsettled so the Lord of Imladris. He had foreseen none of this. He knew that there had been a son in Estel's future, but how could he have missed the rather glaring details of the child's birth? That was what had really perturbed him more than anything, just not having seen that fact. Elrond could not help the feeling that had he divined Finduilas's future, it would have been plain to him, yet something told him that he still would not have seen his son as the father.
The circumstances needed his attention though, and he managed to force himself to leave Estel's chambers and let everyone else fuss over him, knowing that it was nothing short of his son's illness that kept him from getting to Denethor himself. Elrond was exhausted and frustrated when Erestor intercepted him as he passed his study.
"I need to get this matter in hand immediately, Erestor," Elrond protested rather weakly.
"On the contrary, meldir, that is exactly what you do not need to do," Erestor countered much more convincingly. "You need to rest, you need to eat something sustaining, you need take a swim in the hot spring. In short, you need to do anything but deal with this. How can you make any decisions the way you are now, let alone talk rationally to that man?"
Elrond sighed. "I recognize the value of those words, Erestor. The trouble is, i do not want him in my land any longer than necessary and i want to have this done with as soon as possible."
"Then i insist that you take counsel with me first. What are you going to do?" Erestor practically demanded.
"I do not know," Elrond conceded resignedly. "I do not want to do anything. How can i possibly know how to handle this situation? I never even knew my father. The closest contact i ever have with him is when i look up into Elbereth's night sky and see the light of his accursed Silmaril."
Erestor knew that when Elrond started going on about his father that the Half-elf needed to sleep well and long and immediately before frustration turned to all-out fury. "Elrond, mellon-nín, come, take some wine with me and share your burden."
Elrond almost grudgingly followed Erestor into his study and sank down into a chair. "This is not a fair burden to share," he said.
"I do not recall a single one yet that has been," Erestor pointed out, "though you have shared many of my burdens when i did not feel as though i should have put them upon you."
Once Elrond had a glass of wine in him, though, all sense of fairness disappeared and he let loose to Erestor's patient ears all that had been weighing so heavily on him. An hour and five glasses of wine later, Elrond was not only sound asleep, but had divulged things to Erestor that he had pledged to himself to not speak of - in wine, truth.
Erestor now sat considering the knowledge he had just gained. He had known that there was something about the Man from Gondor that he did not quite trust, to hear that he had been frequently utilizing the palantír of what was Minas Anor just confirmed it to Erestor. It was no secret among the Wise and those in their counsel who else held one of the seeing stones and for that reason their use was carefully monitored. It was just as well known to Ecthelion and his son and heir. Erestor could not begin to imagine the lies spinning around in the Mortal's mind, so subtle he would not even know that they were lies until the flaw was exposed and then... the Valar only knew what that kind of revelation would do to a poor adan. Erestor could see why Elrond did not want to put off dealing with Denethor, but he also knew that at least one calm and rational mind was needed in that exchange. Yet, Erestor had to wonder if it really was only the influence of Mordor that caused Denethor to so ignore and neglect the needs of his wife...
ooo
Denethor sat in a very unused area of Imladris, one which for centuries had held nothing but wine stores and had once entertained young twin boys who liked to believe that it was the dungeon of Angband. He did not know how he ended up in this dark, cold retaining cell with such an ache in the back of his head and his hands bound, again. He had to be still in the custody of Elves because though it felt as though his hands were tied with mere strings, even his uttermost exertion of strength could not budge them.
Exhausted, hungry, alone, and now growing afraid, the soon-to-be Steward's mind began to work on him. It was no longer the angry mind, possessed of no thought other than revenge, but now a mind of crushing clarity. How had he not seen? How had he not realized so much that was going on about him for so long? It was that stone, he told himself, that damned Elven stone in the tower! He vowed to never go near it again, now that he was only just beginning to see what it had brought him to.
Denethor tried not to think of what had led him to this situation but only how to get out of it. A strong commander for Gondor, his belief was that dwelling on the past was not the way to benefit either the present or the future. He needed to put aside all that he was feeling and concentrate on escape, at the very least blackmail. But try as he might, he could not help remembering Finduilas's smile and joyful manner… it drove a knife into his heart now where it has once eased him. How could it be that he was only now adding things up?
It all started when that damnable Mithrellas had gone away, back to Dol Amroth to care for her father. For a time, Finduilas had seemed more alone and unhappy than ever, and it was only when she was holding her sleeping baby boy that she had seemed glad. But time went on and after some months Finduilas seemed to be more comfortable allowing a nurse to watch over Boromir while she spent entire days in the gardens or library or some such place. It was then that she seemed to be at long last a little more comfortable in Minas Tirith than she had ever been.
But as quickly as it came on, her new found joy turned back into sorrow. Denethor only now realized that it was when his father had given Thorongil leave of his service that Finduilas grew cheerless again.
Thinking further on ahead, Denethor examined the circumstances surrounding the next time Finduilas had seemed joyful. It was almost a year ago exactly. He could not understand it then, his father had taken a serious turn for the worse, and his wife seemed to be walking on air, yet he knew she and Ecthelion were close. Ecthelion had asked him to send word to Thorongil of his failing health and Denethor told his father that he would. He never did. He had no reason to want to see that man again, even to honor his father's wishes. And yet, several weeks later he had overheard one of the healers saying how good it was to have seen Thorongil again and that he was sorry he could stay no more than a day. Gods! How did that man always elude him?
Now it was that Denethor put one and one and one together and came up with three. It was around the time that he overheard that conversation that Finduilas rather quickly became no longer as happy as she had been only two weeks before. Now she was anxious and seemed in a state of worry and fear. She had taken to going to the Houses of Healing more often and she rarely left her chambers for anything else. She was never present to break fast with him anymore. Not long after that had she told him that she was again with child. He had been pleased about it and never even considered that he had not shared her bed in months, such female issues only frightened him to the point of ignoring them entirely. All of these things came clearly to him now: Finduilas's happiness was at having slept with Denethor's most hated rival when he sneaked into town and back out again, her anxiety was because she knew she carried his child, not her husband's. It had been no rape, but was Finduilas's desire.
Briefly he questioned his own behavior, spending all of his days and nights working, attending councils, studying maps and missives and trying to figure out a pattern to the orc attacks. When he did have a spare moment, what was his first though? Keeping his sword arm in shape or fussing over Boromir. Any contact he'd actually had with his wife for many months had been most incidental.
But no, he would not fault himself! Anger returned to Denethor, just as strong as it had been when he tried to rid his life of Thorongil once and for all, albeit a much calmer anger; an anger that could wait. It was not his fault that he had so many responsibilities; he was the son of the Steward! What did Finduilas expect of him? Should he have laid aside his duties to the kingdom to hang about her, showering her with tokens of his affections like some unbearded lad courting for the first time? Did she think that she was better than his soldiers and deserved more of his time because her brother held the title of Prince of Dol Amroth? Gondor needed her armies to be ready to repel Mordor at any time and what difference would it make if the very gates of the city were broken and Minas Tirith lay in ruins but his wife well sexed? For Denethor, duty was always to be placed before pleasure.
ooo
linda: Aragorn is really lucky, all the way around.
AM: I would have loved to have seen it, too. Maybe one of these days i will be able to convince Peter Jackson to do this version? Right.
grumpy: And who ever thought milk could be a weapon?
Elenhin: Yep, killed off his wife and daughter last time around... but at least he i am taking care of him now. Can't be terrible all the time, i guess. I definitely have had some interesting ideas about how the twins could torture Denethor. I won't say just yet, have to see if i decided to use them yet. If not, i might do up some "sketches" and post them anyway. I might do a "sketch" of Finduilas's life before she went to Minas Tirith.
steelelf: From the hospital? Really? Oh dear... well, i hope my little weavings are helpful medicine.
Jacinthe: I do my best to keep my readers on the edge, while not exactly going over the edge. I try to update pretty frequently, which just goes to show that i have little social life :)
Iblis: We shall have to wait and see what little Fara' makes of Arwen as he grows older. He will get to meet his grandma soon though, she is on her way to the Last Homely House.
Raksha: A few things to keep in mind before you feel too sorry for Denethor:
1 - When Denethor charged off, hehad no knowledge that Faramir was his. Only a very vague and rash suspicion.
2 - He asked no one any questions or attempted actual communication,only took extreme actions.
3 - Though sometimes it seems as if he loves Fin',he has not acted like it when it mattered(ie - not allowing her to go home, not really being there for herin the weeks after she "lost" her baby).
4 - He was treated rather well by his hosts in fact. In all Elven realms we see the same "welcoming treatment" of their "guests."
5- Aragorn has been through much purification already. Without tumbling into a huge political rant, who is to say his actions were any less moral than anyone else's?
6- Last but definitely not least, forgiveness is not to be used sparingly but liberally, especially where love is concerned. I only have a right to say that because i have lived that.
Well, that is just my piece on that.