breaking

Instructions

*WARNINGS: Very AU. Also probably PGish for implied violence. But I don't put gross/inappropriate stuff into what I write (that would completely defeat the purpose!)* She wishes she could fix it. Wishes she could stop the hurting. But there are many things that wishes cannot do. "Finduilas," he pleads, as she steps back before she can stop herself. She does not wish him nearer, but she keeps still nonetheless, allowing him to take her into his arms, letting him bury his face in her hair. She realizes only when the shaking of his shoulders grows great indeed that he is weeping. "Forgive me," he begs, in between gasping sobs. "I do not know what madness took me." Neither does she. She wishes, deeply, that she might say she has never seen him act in this way before. But this is not the first time. She studies the new bruises she can see from her position. She is loath to move. Moving will cause greater pain than standing still, for both of them. "Shhh," she whispers, brushing away his tears. She hates seeing him cry. It hurts worse than the bruises. And there is a breaking in his eyes, a cracking, that hurts more than that. "Be still my love. I forgive you." And she does. If she squints, she can make herself believe that the bruises are a pretty color. One of deep summer night. The same color as the mantle he gave to her. But forgiveness or no, she is careful not to send her eyes toward the balcony door, careful to summon the strength to speak just loud enough to cover the barely-there sound of weeping. A very small foot appears for half an instant around the edge of the doorway, before it is hastily yanked back by its owner. Denethor whispers his thanks to her over and over again, with promises that it will never happen again, the anguish in those breaking eyes of his beginning to ease. Over her husband’s shoulder, through the window, she can see Anduin the Great, leading like a whisper-thin path dipped in moonlight down to the sea. The sea. It hurts where his arm rests around her waist as he leads her out of the chamber, but she dares not say anything. Just before they exit, she turns. Two pairs of scared eyes, stone grey, sea grey, are watching her, amid an ocean of breaking things. Breaking eyes, breaking bones, breaking hearts. She smiles wanly for her sons, nodding faint encouragement. But she cannot summon much. She wishes she could fix it. Wishes she could stop their hurting. But there are many things that wishes cannot do.