Dol Amroth

There was a slight chill in the air as Finduilas woke on the beach. It looked like it would be a rainy day and she pulled herself closer to the source of warmth beside her. She felt a kiss pressed her to temple and raised her head to return it. It was still hard for her to believe that she had spent the night beside Eldor; it was not so long ago that she was sure she would never see him again.

"Fin'," he whispered, "I must soon return to my horses." He was reluctant to go, but he knew that all of his wishes and pleas had already been answered and than some - he had seen her again.

"Aye, and I must return to my little boy," she said, forcing herself to sit up and stretch. Sleeping on the beach was not as easy as it was when she was a child.

"You have a son?" Eldor said. Though they had spent the entire night together, neither had discussed such matters.

"Yes, I do. He is five years old already." There was an unexpected sadness that overwhelmed Finduilas when she thought that she had another son, too, but knew not if he even survived. It was not to be discussed though, she decided.

Eldor could not help but note her sadness and, as much as he detested bringing up the subject, he could not linger without knowing. "Finduilas. I know that this is a dream come true, but how long shall this sweet dream last? What of Denethor?"

"I do not love him, that is what of him," she replied unhappily. "I no longer want anything to do with him. I am here now only because he rode away for some while. He should be to Edoras by now and he may carry on from there; if he does, I do not expect him to find that I have left Minas Tirith until at least summer's end. If he returns from Edoras, he may be here in a month's time. I do not wish to return with him, ever. Though... that choice may not be mine."

"I should have fought for you the last time. If you ask it of me, I will fight for you this time," Eldor said with no small amount of conviction.

"I can not ask it, Eldor. Nor can I blame him, he has provided richly for me and he dotes upon Boromir. My only fear is that, if I go back to Minas Tirith, I shall not long be able to withstand the Shadow that looms from Mordor. I was desperately weak when I started out to here and only now have I come to feel well again. But I have no real right to be away from my home; I have the leave of the Steward, but not my husband."

"You are correct, Finduilas, you ought not to be away from your home. But it is Dol Amroth that is your home, and no woman should have to seek the leave of her husband to be in comfort. He keeps you against your will." Eldor knew that he needed to remain composed, but he could not help his temper rising. To think of that loutish man treating his adored Finduilas unjustly was a sore trial for him. There was but one thing that could alleviate his irritation.

"Let us not cross that bridge until we come to it," Finduilas said gently, kissing Eldor. "For at least the next month I wish to live as though I had never so much as heard of him."

Eldor's outrage abated instantly as he nuzzled her soft hair. "The stables by day, the beach by night," he said and moved away. Finduilas returned then to the castle of the Prince of Dol Amroth.

The summer spent in Dol Amroth was a much needed holiday for all involved. Finduilas continued to meet Eldor each night, just as she had before she met Denethor, not necessarily secretly, but not overtly either. Many a night he would read to her or they would simply talk of by gone days. Finduilas spoke much about Boromir and Eldor agreed that he and his uncle were two of a kind, having seen them at play many an afternoon.

Boromir was becoming quite adept at sea-monster hunting, as well as other seaside-oriented pursuits such as sandcastle building (and destroying, provided it was a stronghold of the enemy, of course). In the years since his father's passing, Imrahil had kept himself so busy with his office that he often neglected to have fun once in a while. Now that Boromir was here, however, he was making up for lost time with a passion. Work was suddenly not so important that he had to handle each detail personally and delegating cut his workload down to one or two hours worth that he could accomplish easily after dinner.

His wife, Eärwen, was thrilled and told Finduilas that she was no longer concerned that their coming child would not know his father until he one day wandered into his study and wondered who was that man he'd never seen before. Eärwen, for her part, adored Boromir just as much as Imrahil did and she wished dearly for a little boy of her own, though all the symptoms predicted by the old wives seemed to indicate that she would bear many girls. Still, Eärwen was fairly sure she knew why they were called old wives tales and not old mothers tales. Seeing her husband truly come to life again told her that a child would have naught but good influence on Imrahil. Eärwen was so excited to be with child and due at harvest that Finduilas decided to spare her the horror stories that her two pregnancies were for her, she liked her brother's wife greatly and was very happy for them.

Everyone spent the summer in joy and contentment that they had not known in many years. One evening in late August Boromir sat cuddled with his mumma, listening as she sang of Nimrodel and Amroth. As she finished, Boromir looked up at her and asked, "Mumma, can we stay here always? I like it here so much more than at home."

Finduilas noted that her brother looked up at her from across the room as if the same question had been on his mind. "I know, Bori, I do too. Time will tell how much longer we stay, but for now let us just enjoy the time we have here." Finduilas knew by now that Denethor had attempted to track Thorongil and Faramir to Rivendell. She begged the gods that they would reach sanctuary before he caught up with them, and yet she wondered what would become of Denethor if he and his soldiers attempted to trespass into the Elven land. There was so much speculation and it was a major possibility that Denethor would not come back alive. By her guess, if he simply went to Rivendell, was denied entrance, and turned around, he would likely have made it back to Minas Tirith and discovered their absence already. If he had left at once, she expected him to arrive in another two weeks. She refused to agonize over it though, if this holiday was to be short-lived, she intended to make the most of it.

It was very much as Finduilas had reckoned. Only just two weeks later a rider arrived in the city on a very rainy afternoon. Guards at the Prince's residence did not question the rather bitter man because he wore the emblem of the Citadel of Minas Tirith. He went, much as he did in the House of Elrond, from room to room until he found who he was looking for. Finduilas was resting in her sitting room, reading by the window that looked out on the sea.

For a moment Denethor stood there staring at her, she had not yet noticed him. She was more beautiful and well-looking than he recalled ever seeing her. The thought that maybe it was not incorrect what the Elf-lord said about his actions, or rather inactions, causing the circumstances flashed in his mind, but still he refused to believe it. It was he who had been wronged in all of this; never mind that he acted first and asked questions later.

Slowly Denethor stepped into the room, resentment in every breath. "So, you do not even acknowledge your husband now?" he asked acidly.

"Hello, Denethor," she said evenly, setting aside the book she had been reading.

"Oh, I was not aware that we were on such familiar terms. Clearly I mean nothing to you, so I suppose I should not be surprised that the High Princess of Dol Amroth feels no need to show any deference to her lord."

"I will not dispute that, but I should say in my defense that I felt it rather pointless to continue caring for you once you clearly stopped caring for me."

"Defense? No, you have no defense. So, I find that the child you told me was dead really lives and is not my son, but the son of Thorongil, of all people. Then I come home to find that you have defied me and left behind my back, and not only that, but then I learn that you have betrayed me and made a fool of me yet again with a stable boy. What else are you willing to lower yourself to?"

It ordinarily took a great deal to make Finduilas angry, but false accusations did. She stood to face her husband head on. "Understand this, Denethor, I never once spoke the words that my child did not live. Moreover, I have never slept with Eldor in the way that you imply. If that is what your seeing stone tells you than you are allowing yourself to be deceived."

"Do not speak to me thusly, woman!" Denethor growled. "You may stay in this place for as long as you want, rot here and I will not care. I should have sent you back here years ago. I no longer have any need for you. I will take my son and be gone."

"No, Denethor, you will not. Boromir will stay here with me until he comes of age, after that the decision will be his. You may visit him here, if you should be so inclined."

"He is my heir! He will return to his home with me, along with the Steward's escort."

"Why, so that you can further delude yourself into believing that you are already Steward, just one short step away from the Crown of Eärnur?" Finduilas said bitterly.

"That is treason," Denethor hissed, taking a menacing step closer to his wife.

Just then Imrahil and Boromir came to Finduilas's chambers. They had been entertaining each other indoors since it had been raining, and they still managed to get in a bit of "sword practice" in. Boromir took one look at the figure that looked to be threatening his mumma, clad in green and still dripping wet, he remembered his uncle's description of a sea-monster as "green and dripping and gooey" and there was no question in the boy's mind. Rushing forward with his little wooden waster, he shouted, "Sea-monster! Leave my mumma alone!"

Denethor turned instinctively with his hand raised as if to hit away whoever was causing this disturbance without even realizing that it was his own son. Imrahil, however, was faster and caught Denethor's arm, rather tighter than was necessary.

"Greetings, Denethor," Imrahil said tersely.

Boromir was utterly confused, when he looked up into the face of the "sea-monster" he saw his father. He had been wondering when he would be joining him and mumma, but as Denethor was often kept busy it did not faze him much. He wondered just how serious a breach of etiquette it was to call the heir to the Stewardship a sea-monster.

"I would advise you to step away, Denethor. When all are in a suitable frame of mind, perhaps we can discuss things rationally. Step outside and ask one of the guards to see you to the guest quarters," Imrahil suggested rather strongly, refusing to let go of Denethor's arm until he nodded his acceptance of the Prince's terms. Imrahil sighed deeply. "And I thought that storm season had ended."

ooo

Is everyone enjoying these super-fast updates? The writing bug has got me, enjoy it while it lasts, i can make no promises that this will go very long.

grumpy: Aragorn always thinks the twins are up to something, and he is usually right.

linda: You have to feel sorry for Denethor's soldiers, but Ecthelion does know how to handle things. Aragorn is rapidly learning a lot of things about babies, but as we all know, as soon as you get things figured out, invariably, they change again.

Elenhin: Do you really have a bow? Sweet! I've fired a few arrows in my time. I tend to overshoot my marks though. Don't know my own strength i guess. Boromir and Faramir are definitely going to get together in the future, i could not keep them apart. It remains to be seen, however, how they will react to each other - but is just because i like to keep you all guessing :) It doesn't seem like much of a stretch that Denethor might never have held Faramir as a baby, in historical times like that parents in nobility often had little to do with their children. I must say, you read me rather well in advance of this chapter though!

steelelf: Your reviews are your way of telling me so. Seriously, a review that says nothing but "i like this story" still makes my day. I really appreciate hearing from readers. I know there are more people reading than reviewing and i am sometimes guilty of that myself,but just letting me know that you don't think i have gone off the deep end (or even that you) matters.