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Memoirs of a Princess
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March 15 3019 TA
War of the Ring The Siege of Minas Tirith

Denethor walked silently through the stone corridor towards the throne room. It was utterly dark, and a cold breeze seeped in through the high windows. In the distance, he could hear the shouts of his soldiers and the rumble of boulders being catapulted into the city his city.

He felt the end was near.

As he walked around the last corner into the throne room, a sharp, cold breeze made the candles in the corridor flutter. He took no notice of it, for he was wrapped warmly in his cloak. He had no need to remain in this cold place any longer. His place was at Faramir's side and that was exactly where he was going.

"How is my youngest son?" a soft, female voice spoke.

Denethor stopped, hearing the voice speak from inside the throne room. That voice he heard it sounded so familiar. However, he had not heard it in many, many years.

"Finduilas?" Denethor said, breathlessly.

He walked into the throne room and saw his late wife standing in the middle of the room. She was dressed in a long black gown, with a matching black overcoat. What daunted Denethor the most was the long grey veil, which touched the floor before her.

"My sweet, dear Finduilas," Denethor said, stepping closer. "My beautiful wife. Why have you come back during such a dark hour?"

"I have come to see my son," Finduilas said, emotionless to Denethor's sudden surge of happiness.

"Faramir?" Denethor queried. "H-h... he will be joining you very soon."

Finduilas slowly shook her head, but dared not break eye contact with her husband. "My poor son. You have not always been a kind father towards him," Finduilas said sadly. "I have watched him for so long, wandering Ithilien abandoned by his father. What has my poor boy done to deserve such neglect? He was such a clever boy, learning lore and reading at a rate most boys his age could not. I am so proud of him. You should be proud of him too... Denethor."

Denethor stared at his late wife in awe. "I am proud of Faramir. He was the last child you gave me. Your last gift. But he grew into a man so different from his brother, and I was bitterly saddened."

Finduilas showed no empathy. "Boromir - my special boy. He was the son I gave to you that you needed. The heir you wanted so dearly from the day we were married." Finduilas' eyes were filled with pain and grief. "My poor boy you expected far too much from him. Men are not made of stone, Denethor, and you allowed him to go to Imladris when you knew it in your heart that it would lead him to his doom."

"No... No!" Denethor said, backing away. "Boromir was my greatest son my leader among men. I would never have led him to his doom." He leaned against a pillar, and wept. When he looked up, he saw Boromir standing next to Finduilas, dressed in deep blue with a matching mantle trimmed with silver.

"Do you not understand, Denethor?" Finduilas said, placing her arm on Boromir's shoulder. "You killed him."

"Boromir," Denethor said, stretching out his arm towards his beloved son.

Boromir did not move nor speak. Instead, mother and son slowly turned around and quietly started to walk away.

"No... Boromir, Finduilas... come back!" Denethor moved towards them, but a loud bang caused him to look in the opposite direction. He heard footsteps approaching, and when he turned back again, his wife and son were gone vanished.

"Finduilas!" Denethor shouted. "Do not take my son from me. Please, Finduilas. Come back!"

"My Lord," a guard said, walking into the throne room.

"Where is she?" Denethor asked him, grabbing the guard by the collar.

"Who... my Lord?"

"Finduilas, where is Finduilas?" he asked desperately. "I need her forgiveness."

The guard looked at him with alarm. "My... my Lord, Lady Finduilas died years ago."

"She was right here." Denethor let the guard go. "She had Boromir. I want them back they are the ones that I love and... and Faramir."

Denethor let go of the guard and ran towards the chamber where Faramir was being tended too.

It was at that very moment that Denethor wanted nothing more than to be reconciled with his wife and son. But he would not leave Faramir to the hands of his enemies. Before the Citadel could be infiltrated, there would be no trace of him or Faramir for the enemy to hew.


The guard who had found Denethor went on the retell his encounter to many folk. Soon, the entire White City knew of the madness of Denethor. King Elessar listened intently to the guard's tale, and was intrigued by what Denethor had acclaimed to have seen.

Was Finduilas only an image of Denethor's madness, or had she truly appeared to speak her last thoughts to her husband.

What do you think?

The End


Author's Note - Amazingly, this tale has ended. I hope the epilogue was not too theatrical. I got the idea from watching Season 4 of 'The Tudors'. From the scenes where Henry VIII sees the ghosts of his wives. When I watched those scenes, it made me wonder what Finduilas would say to Denethor about how he raised their sons alone... etc if she had the chance.

I hope this story has been enjoyable. I will be starting the next part of this series shortly. Finduilas will be in it. Though, it will be based around her sister, Ivriniel. Also, the story will be shorter. Thank you to all those who have taken the time to read Memoirs of a Princess.

Lady Demiya


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