"Happy birthday, my son", Denethor said as he patted Boromir's head.

Boromir had just turned five years old. All of the servants in the Citadel had brought presents for him. Finduilas smiled as she sat next to him and kissed his cheek.

"Five years of age", she smiled. "You are growing fast, Boromir."

"Yes, Mama", Boromir said with a smile.

Finduilas looked at Denethor and looked back at Boromir.

"Son, are you lonely here?" she asked. "Do you wish you had someone to play with?"

Boromir shook his head.

"Papa says no time to play", he said. "He wants me to train."

She glared at Denethor and shook her head.

"Well, would you like it if your mother and father brought someone for you to play with?"

Boromir looked at her and shrugged. He was an only child. Denethor didn't allow him to play with any other children in Minas Tirith. What difference would another child make?

"Boromir, how would you feel if you had a brother or sister?" Finduilas asked.

"What's a brother?" he asked. "What's a sister?"

"A brother is another son", Denethor explained. "A sister is a daughter."

"Are they good?"

"They could be", Finduilas said. "I am asking because I am with child."

Boromir tilted his head confused. He had no idea what that meant but knowing his mother, it must be something serious.

"It means your mother is carrying a child inside her", Denethor said. "Within months, you will have a brother or sister."

"Can I have a brother?" Boromir asked.

"We will see what happens", Finduilas chuckled.

"We already have Boromir for a perfect son", Denethor said. "Let's hope this next one will be a daughter."

"Why?" she asked. "What if it is a son? Will you love him as much as you love Boromir?"

"I would have no use for him. We only need one perfect son. Now I want a perfect daughter."

Finduilas frowned as she gently put her hand over her stomach.

"I am sorry, Denethor", she said. "You may be the steward. You may be the most powerful in all of Gondor. But you have no power to control what our child will be. You cannot always get what you want."

Denethor frowned as she saw defiance in her eyes. He hated any kind of defiance. In his whole life, no one had refused his desires. Denethor had lived a spoiled life worthy of a king.

"If you are carrying a son", he started. "You will be the one to raise it. You raise it the way you want. I will raise Boromir the way I want."

"You cannot do that", Finduilas said. "Every son needs a father. You cannot turn your own son away."

Boromir watched frightened as his parents argued. That's all they seemed to do nowadays. Whenever Denethor wanted something Finduilas did not approve us, it would always start an argument.

"My love, can we not fight this once?" Finduilas asked. "This is Boromir's day and right now we're frightening him."

Denethor looked at their son who was looking down trying to fight the tears in his eyes. He nodded and patted Boromir's head.

"Yes. This is a day for you, my son. Enjoy it to the fullest."