Oki, I am a crazy psycho, and since I've recently been catching up on old episodes of 24 as well as watching the return of Alias (yay!), I decided to do a little summary thing like the TV shows do. Haha.
Also, the "flashbacks" are in italics.
Previously in Stolen Desert Gold…
(Faramir voiceover) "Surrender, and perhaps we shall spare the lives of these."
(Cut to Faramir, expression businesslike and cold, as he motions to Roshni and Asli with soldiers poised to strike)
(Dramatic narrator voice) One woman, ripped from her homeland…
(Pan to Roshni, Minas Tirith in the background along with the sounds of the militant force surrounding them, as she questions Eglerion. Her expression is pained) "We are all going to die, are we not?"
(Dramatic narrator voice) Will soon discover…
(Cut to Faramir and Ayala, kissing. Faramir pulls back and murmurs quietly) "I am back now, my love."
(Dramatic narrator voice) That things are not always what they seem… (Dramatic music)
(Cut to interrogation scene between Faramir and Roshni. Roshni stares in disbelief at the scroll in her hand, Faramir looks sympathetic) "I hope you will aid us." "I just found out I have been lied to my entire life." (Roshni looks determined) "I will help you if it is the last thing I do."
(Dramatic narrator voice) And even good intentions…
(Show a frenzied Faramir running towards Aragorn. Dramatic music increases.)
(Dramatic narrator voice) Can end in disaster…
(Show Aragorn's surprise as Faramir bursts through, panicked, with a cry of "No!" Executioners' blade lifts into the air. Back to present.)
A bird chirped. It was one of those birds that flies down and pecks at something, pretending not to notice you, and all of a sudden just wings it back to the tree, where it does its annoying little chirp of safety.
It was quite a cute bird, though. Nice and yellow and fluffy. Sort of like the kitten you get for Christmas, only not yellow. And kittens don't chirp.
So this bird is flying through the streets now, and it's cool. Somewhere in its little bird-brain it comprehended that the streets were empty. If birds thought in words, it would probably be wondering where it was supposed to gets its meal if everyone was gone. No matter.
The bird landed on a pillar. There were people there, sure, but they were just jabbering in their weird language, and did not really notice the bird sitting there. It had just begun to clean itself when this crazy man bursting through the back of the group rudely interrupted it. Squawking indignantly, it flapped away far, far above the crowd.
"No!" Faramir shouted.
The men in black let the blades fall.
Roshni could only stare. The light of her eyes – so defiant before – was quenched, though nary a tear fell. The world seemed to fade from sight. Dimly she was aware of Asli clutching her arm as she crumpled to the ground, sobbing. She heard herself murmuring words of comfort to her sister-in-law, even as she steeled herself from the pain. Never let 'em see you cry, her father had admonished, and she would not let him down now, not when it was the last thing she would ever give him.
How could this have happened? Her mind reeled. She had seen Faramir bursting through the crowd, had heard his cry. What had gone wrong? It was like a language she knew, but could not piece together. If she had been in a more rational mood, she perhaps would have forgiven Faramir. But she could not accept that they were dead, would not!
The rain suited the pervading mood among the group of travelers. The day was bleak, though the sun had risen just a few hours before. Under her hood Roshni bit her lip, trying to block out the sound of Asli crying. She had been like that since the execution.
Roshni knew she seemed distant and uncaring. It was not that she was necessarily cold-hearted, like the stony-faced fellows that couldn't care less for any human being but themselves. But her pride lent her a certain aura of detachment. How she hated herself for it! Many times the past few days – when Asli had broken into tears, when the night grew bitter and cold and there was nothing to distract her – she had wondered why it was that no matter how hard she tried, she could not break past her invisible wall. And so, knowing not what else to do, she grieved in silence.
Even now, the rain dared not touch her shadow-rimmed eyes. She at least was grateful for that small courtesy; for she feared they might propel her true emotions to the surface, cracking the barriers of her heart that she had erected so long ago. And there it was again. How could she one moment be cursing herself for her apparent lack of emotion, and the next be glad of it?
Roshni raised her face, to once again smell the horse-like scent of the cloak of the soldier riding in front of her. She nearly smiled. This Faramir was so over-cautious. Even if she, Asli, and the other ten male prisoners had had the strength to run, where would they go? The desert was their home, not this copious wood. They would be hopelessly lost if ever they escaped. I don't want to anyway, Roshni thought. I agreed to help them, and I will…especially now.
Even so, she could not help but feel conflicted about that. Well, he had lied to her once, hadn't he? Hadn't he promised to save her father and brother? He had broken that, and she would not tarnish her family's memory with a patina of falsities. But it seemed she had no choice. She would not run.
It had been little over an hour with the slow pace they were moving at when they came into view of the Window on the West, which later Roshni would learn concealed Henneth Annûn.
At least, she thought they came into view, for she was blindfolded, as was custom. At first, she had not minded, but it quickly grew stuffy and she was glad when at last they stopped.
She heard the roar of the waterfall; a drop fell on her nose as they passed under. Suddenly she could see again, her vision slightly blurry as she adjusted to the light change.
She blinked. The area they had just entered was large and cavernous, not really what she had expected of such a secret refuge. Then again, she thought, it is probably why they chose it. Their enemies would likely not think anything of it.
She glanced over to Asli, who now wore a blank expression. Her gaze softened and she opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Calanon.
"My lord, where are we moving the prisoners to?"
Faramir surveyed them for a moment in thought.
"Calanon, you must not call the women 'prisoners' any longer." He looked him in the eye to be sure he understood. Faramir knew that Calanon resented them. "Eglerion and Rimedur will escort them to their quarters. But keep the men under lock and key."
Calanon merely stood as Faramir spoke, his thoughts not revealed in his face. He shrugged and turned away, conversing instead with Hérion, who had come with the White Company for a stay of several days. Most likely he intended to oversee all briefings and question the women further – he was reporting to the King, after all.
Eglerion obediently removed his hood and gently took Roshni by the arm to lead her up the stairs. His plan, however, was foiled as Roshni turned and spun to face Faramir. Now was her chance.
"Why did you not save my kinsmen? Were we not 'good enough' for you?" Roshni asked, her voice laced with hurt and anger. When she spoke again, she spoke as a small child, in little more than a plaintive whisper.
"You promised…you promised."
Suddenly the room was filled with a heavy silence. Those who had been bustling around busily before paused, looking to Faramir. Roshni saw him glance to Asli as he scanned the room, hoping for a way out of this awkward explanation. For a moment she almost pitied him.
When at last he spoke, his voice was tinged with regret.
"I tried," he said quietly. "I tried and I failed. I am not afraid to admit that." Tears glimmered in his eyes as he looked away, barely audible now. "I can never express my sorrow at their passing in a way that would appease you, Roshni. There is nothing one can say to mend the hurt of the death of a loved one."
Roshni's lips parted slightly as she exhaled, surprised at his reaction. She had expected him to be arrogant, blowing her off as a foolish chit. It would have given her more reason to despise him and argue (not to mention making her feel better) and how she wanted to! But now…she felt something close to sympathy for him.
Avoiding eye contact, she headed demurely towards the stairs, Asli and their guards following close. The staircase was surprisingly well-built and wide for being in a cave. The more Roshni walked, however, the more she realized that this was not some archaic war shelter. Henneth Annûn was a small city in and of itself. However, they would do well to rid themselves of this repelling fish-and-spices smell, she thought, crinkling her nose.
Roshni was quite fit, but even so the endless steep stairs took their toll on her. Her legs felt a bit like lead when at last they reached the top, presumably where her room was. She was not surprised to see guards there.
Faramir stood stolidly for a moment. The people around him were busy, and he was 'overseeing' them. It gave him a good excuse to stand there as he contemplated Roshni's words to him. She could not know how close they hit home.
Calanon interrupted his reverie.
"My lord, Bergil requests that you speak with him."
"Thank you, Calanon." He smiled truly then, a rare thing for him these days.
Faramir strode to where Bergil was talking animatedly with some of the soldiers. He paused in his storytelling of the most recent hunting escapade to notice Faramir standing there.
"Faramir! It is so good to see you," he exclaimed, joy in his voice.
Faramir grinned back. "You as well. It was implied you needed to speak with me?"
"Nothing of grave importance. I left the hunting figures on your desk, by the way. But really, I just wanted to see you."
Faramir laughed and slapped him on the back. He had been like a nephew to Faramir, after what Beregond had done for him, ever since he was a boy. Now a young man, he was exuberant and energetic as well as strong. Sometimes Faramir felt a bit outdone by all these young folk. Not that I am so old myself, he thought wryly. It's just that all these young people don't have the life experience to be serious. He chuckled to himself, thinking of the times he and Boromir had acted much the same.
"I will be here for a while now, Bergil, so you have nothing to worry about. Perhaps tomorrow we will go to the archery range?" He was rewarded for this suggestion with the youth's face brightening visibly. Continuing, he said, "But right now, I am exhausted. I think I will retire."
"All right. I shall see you tomorrow." With a final smile, he turned back to his companions, who like Faramir were quite amused by him. Bergil tended to exaggerate sometimes.
Sighing, Faramir meandered down the hall, the sounds of the dining room echoing out as the cooks prepared dinner, probably something along the lines of deer and potatoes. Strangely, he did not feel his stomach rumble. He was perhaps too exhausted to feel it.
He pushed open the door to his familiar room. He smiled, taking in the smooth oak panels on the walls and the crisp, pungent smell. Then his eyes widened in shock and he blinked as he saw a woman sitting on his bed.
"Ayala! Don't scare a man!"
She smiled charmingly.
"I just thought I would surprise you. I was wondering when you would get here. I myself merely…took a shortcut."
"Oh really?" Faramir caught sight of the book she held in her hand, and his heart sank a few notches. "What are you reading?"
She looked at him coyly, speaking with an air of detachment. "Nothing really. Just your journal from when you were little. No, really," she said at his disparaging face, "it's cute. Listen to this: 'Today I kissed Shelley for the first time.'" She grinned. "I never knew you were so sensitive."
Faramir stood silently for a moment, his expression wry when he answered.
"Shelley was a turtle."
Ayala clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Her expression turned quickly from mirth to mock fear as Faramir began 'chasing' her. She slapped the book shut, ducking out of his grasp. He was too fast for her, though, and grabbed her arm, pinning her to the bed.
"Now you can never escape," he whispered, kissing her softly.
She laughed. "You mean I don't want to, or you just won't let me?"
"None of that now," he said, his tone imperiously silly.
His joy at seeing her was quite shattered when he remembered what Aragorn had put on him after one of their councils several days before. He sighed.
"…do speak to Ayala. Things got out of hand at the meeting this morning, and –" Aragorn held up a hand to silence Faramir's protests. "I know it is not just Ayala, but seeing as how you are not on very good terms with Eowyn, at least try to get your fiancée to do her part. I do not see how these meetings are beneficial to anyone with their constant bickering."
Faramir sighed. It was true, and it was partially his fault. Sure, he had not intended it this way, but it would be foolish of him to stay with one woman just to keep the peace. It rather roused his choler that Eowyn still had so much influence over him. She should not matter anymore, Faramir growled to himself. But a tiny part of him, though he did not want to admit it, still felt at least a little bit of attachment to her.
Ayala stopped smiling, a puzzled expression on her face.
"What is wrong, Faramir?"
"Nothing…I do not want to ruin what time we have together. It can wait."
Ayala sat up. "Now you have me intrigued. Come on, what is it?"
He looked at her, sitting innocently, and was more than slightly annoyed that this had to come up. It seemed every time there was a moment's peace something interfered.
Faramir spoke. "Well…it seems there was a spat between you and Eowyn at the Council meeting concerning the prisoners."
Ayala's eyes darkened. "I was merely trying to stay the execution. Eowyn would have none of it. This disaster could have been avoided if it were not for her supercilious temper. You know, Aragorn says he never loved her as he does Arwen, but he must have some feelings towards her. Or sympathy, because I am with you, and she is not. But he always seems to take her side, even though I am his chief advisor!"
Faramir raised his hand to stop the onslaught.
"Ayala, I did not want to anger you. I would not have brought it up but that Aragorn bade me do so." He sighed, rubbing his temple. "But these things are becoming a problem."
Ayala looked genuinely regretful when she answered.
"I am sorry, really. I know it causes problems for you. I'll try to avoid confronting her…but it is quite difficult."
"Good. You know, Ayala, you should not be in here. It isn't proper."
"Who cares?"
He crossed his arms in mock annoyance. "So you don't care if Lord Galador kills me?"
She rolled her eyes. "So into propriety. It's not like we're doing anything; even my father has no evidence of that." She winked mischievously. "But, of course, we can give him some…"
At that Faramir picked her up as she flailed, laughing, and deposited her outside the door. "Thank you, but I quite have the fear in me. I would rather not die a premature death," he grinned.
Ayala had to stand on her tiptoes to give him one last kiss before leaving for her own quarters. As she stepped away, she drew a deep breath, uncertainty in reflected in the loose set of her lips. She could not keep this from Faramir any longer if she wanted their marriage to be a real, honest one. For a little over a week now she had told herself to wait for a good time, and finally had come to recognize that there was no good time.
"Also, Faramir, there is something you should know."
He looked at her quizzically. "Yes…?"
"It's about Boromir."
Note
If you could, or would like to, please tell me if you felt sad at all, sad that the prisoners died, or sympathized with Roshni and Asli, or laughed at the Shelley-turtle thing (trying to insert humor to keep story from dragging, lol, but not knowing if I can). I would like to know so that I can better please you my dear readers, which, of course, is necessary. ) Thanks to all my lurvely reviewers/readers!