For two hours the next day Finduilas and Imrahil traded extortions with Denethor over Boromir's future. Finduilas rejected Denethor's offer to tell her what had become of her second born in exchange for custody of his firstborn. Her fear was that she might lose both sons by that deal. But in the end it came down to a political/defense decision for Denethor, without the manpower of Dol Amroth, Minas Tirith would not stand a chance against an attack, particularly now that relations with Rohan were growing tense. Finduilas felt a bit guilty for not asking what Boromir wanted, but the thought of her child growing up under the Shadow of Mordor was not acceptable.
The rest of the day Denethor spent in his chambers readying to leave with dawn the next day. He watched out the window as Boromir and Imrahil played on the beach for hours. He could not recall Boromir ever being that happy with his many gifts and such. He saw Boromir run to Imrahil for comfort when he'd fallen and scratched his knee. Suddenly all the bitterness and hate he had rode in with was gone, as if a spell was broken, and Denethor only now realized what he had just bargained away.
He went to Finduilas's chambers, now much more humbly than before. He offered an apology and begged her to change her mind about their son. She would not though, for her the damage had been done.
"Why, Finduilas? He is my son! You cannot do this to me," Denethor pleaded. Once a snarling and sneering prideful man, he was now nothing short of wretched.
"I have lost one child, Denethor," Finduilas said, "i can not lose Bori', too. But more than that, i can not see him grow up at Mordor's gate. Nor can i forgive you for using that seeing stone as you do. It is altogether dangerous and until Bori' is grown, in no clear conscious can i let him go back there. The front line of an impending war is no place for a child. If you wish to come here to see him, i will not say aught -"
"My father is nearer death than ever before," Denethor cut in miserably. "Once he is dead and i am Steward, i shall not be able to leave the city. But you know that."
"It is not my intention to keep you from him, but to keep him from danger," Finduilas said sympathetically.
"I believe it might be best if i leave before dawn, then. I am sorry that so much has gone so wrong, Fin'. I know it comes too late, but... i do love you."
"Goodbye, Denethor," was all that Finduilas said.
Denethor went the with all that he had come with to the beach where Imrahil and Boromir were engaging in the strategic fortification of a sand village populated mostly by seashells. The fortification was necessary to keep the seaweed out, of course.
Imrahil glared at the intruder but Boromir jumped up, checking himself with a bow first before rushing forward to ask if his father had come to help them build their fort. Denethor did not trust his voice at the moment and only nodded. Boromir eagerly lead him over to show him all the interesting things about the sand village, the sea-monster incident entirely forgotten. Denethor smiled weakly at Imrahil, who did not return the greeting at all. Boromir urged his father to sit with them on the sand, insisting that he couldn't possibly play from "all the way up there." Denethor complied, awkward though it was for him, the heir to the Stewardship, to be sitting on sand.
Boromir explained that the seaweed was the enemy which they were working to keep away from the seashells, which were the ladies of the town. He held up a big blue scallop and said, "this one is mumma because it looks just like her blue cloak and is so pretty."
"Make sure that she has extra protection, Bori'," Denethor said in a soft voice.
"Oh, she does, lots!" Boromir assured his father enthusiastically.
"You have everything well in hand here, little soldier; i think i am just getting in the way, so i shall go now," Denethor said, effecting the voice of a commander as best he could at the moment.
"I thought you were leaving on the morrow," Imrahil said, trying not to sound too unpleasant.
"I see no point in remaining here," Denethor said simply.
"Father? Where are you going?" Boromir asked.
"I am going home, child," Denethor said unhappily. "Your grandfather needs me... Gondor needs me. You will be well here with you mumma and uncle and aunt."
"I thought you were going to stay with mumma and i here for a while," his son asked in confusion.
"Mumma and me, Bori'," he corrected gently. "I intended for us to be together, but it cannot be just now. I must go to grandfather for he is still unwell."
"Like mumma was before we came here?" Boromir asked.
"Yes, like that."
"Maybe grandfather could come here and get well again like mumma did," Boromir suggested.
"We shall see, little one." Denethor held out his arms to his son the way Boromir always did when he wanted to be lifted up and he held him tightly, pressing a kiss to his brow. "I love you, Boromir. I love you very much."
"I love you, too, father. Tell grandfather i love him, too." Boromir said happily.
"I will. Goodbye, little one." Denethor was fighting with all he had to keep from shedding the tears that were nearly choking him as he put his son down and walked away.
There was one further challenge that Denethor knew he needed to get through as he headed to the stables to fetch his horse. Eldor stopped currying one of Prince Imrahil's chargers when he heard the door swing open. He recognized Denethor but remained impassive. The man no longer looked much like the haughty captain who rode in one day seven years ago, lectured him on how to care for a horse, and rode out with his beloved. Still, Eldor bowed to him, but he didn't have to like it.
Denethor nodded in return and asked him to ready his horse for the return trip.
"Yes, my lord. May i suggest that his lordship take his ease as it may take me a few moments to have her ready," he said, only just managing to keep the iciness out of his voice.
"I am well enough here," Denethor said unconvincingly. "You are Eldor, i presume?"
"Yes, my lord, i am he."
"Do you take as much care with ladies as you do with these horses?" Denethor asked casually.
"More, my lord," Eldor said almost emphatically.
"That is well. I would advise you not to make the mistakes i made, lad," said Denethor, sitting upon a bale of hay.
"I already did, my lord, seven years ago. I can assure your lordship that it will not happen again," came Eldor's steady voice from the other side of Denethor's horse.
There was for a few minutes only the sounds of reins and bridles and such things being fitted and fastened. Denethor held his head in his hands. Then he spoke again, quietly, asking, "How comes it that you are still here in this stable? Were you never offered an advancement?"
"I have been offered many advancements, my lord," Eldor said. "Almost every year for seven years, when the Prince reviews everyone in the household and under his command, he has offered me a position among his knights, riding out with them on errands. A horse injured in the field will not often allow someone other than his handler to help him."
"Yet you are still here. Why?"
"I have declined every offer because i gave my word to Finduilas that should she ever return she would find me in the stables by day and on the beach at night. Though it would have meant a more comfortable life for me, i would not risk not being here when, if, she came back." Eldor walked Denethor's horse out of it's stall and handed him the reins.
"Then you are more worthy of her hand than i ever was. Take care of her, she deserves it." Denethor mounted up and rode away without another word to anyone. It was the last time he would be seen in Dol Amroth.
ooo
Next chapter i will get back to Fara', i promise.
Raksha: The developes are very interesting. I am curious as to where you got the information on Adrahil. I may well rewrite a slight bit if he was still alive circa 2983 III as, although this is "what if" stuff, i still try to be canonically correct with things like that. My two main resources are usually The Complete Guide to Middle Earth by Robert Foster and online the Encyclopedia of Arda. Neither say much of anything about Adrahil at all.
linda: You just have to love Boromir's innocent bravery. I can't yet say how long Fin' will live, but she will not be going back to Minas Tirith.
estelle: Great to hear from you! I wish i could write at such a pace that you have a new chapter to read every morning, but i have been doing pretty good lately at least. Thanks for peeking out!