Another day, much the same as those already past. With one notable exception: there is a large bird in her room, with a long, very sharp beak; and beady, threatening eyes. It stalks about the small room, staring at her, and occasionally making small darts towards her.
Farielle does her best to ignore the heron; to ignore the scattered grain, the bowl of water. Servants come and do something with it - feed it, take it out, clean up after it... whatever it is they do. Farielle pretends it doesn't exist, walking a wide circle around it and trying not to scream when it attacks; though her heart leaps into her mouth every time. And she spends much more time in the library - with two doors between herself and the terrible bird.
And she has been busy. She wrapped up the comb for Amestris and set it on the table, ready for if the girl should come again. And she painted. She had thought of something - if only she could get it right. Finally, she was done. She stepped back to look at her work, and nodded. It was harder to be sure, going from memory, but she thought she had gotten the likeness well enough. And already the colors were drying.
Farielle stretched, feeling kinks in her shoulders ease, and smiled, pleased with herself. Until something made a noise in the corner behind the door, and she tensed, looking nervously over her shoulder. The great black heron stood there, nearly unseen, its head tucked under a wing. She turned away, going hurriedly to the window and looking out.
It is sunny - but when is it ever not sunny in this place? Farielle is wearing, again, the plain green dress - both the silk ones hang on the wall. On one table are the pots of paints, the brushes, the canvases given her by Azradi and Amestris. The top one is blank, but a corner of the bottom has some smears of color on it.
"What is that smell?" wonders Nisrin absently as she slips in, the guard behind her. Upon her feet, notably, are a pair of pointy-toed slippers that have replaced the heavy corsair boots.
Farielle doesn't turn right away, looking up at the deep blue sky for a minute longer before she looks around. "What smell?" She ignores the guard. "I like your slippers..." There is a hint of laughter in her voice, though her face remains sober.
"Oh. Paints," says Nisrin, wrinkling her nose. She grins and plops down on the opposite cushion, wiggling her toes so that the small jewels twinkle and flash. "Have you worn yours yet?"
The other girl points to the corner of the room where her pair of shoes are sitting. "Only in here." She smiles now, moving towards the table and sliding the bottom canvas out, holding it so the front is hidden from Nisrin. Her smile turns a little shy, a little eager, a little uncertain - she is still a moment, then thrusts it out at the other girl abruptly. "I - made this for you. It isn't all that good, but you wouldn't let me buy you anything," she adds anxiously watching Nisrin's face.
The picture is one of Yildirim - clearly from memory, but easily recognizable. The body is a little out of focus and undetailed; the face is clearer and he is smiling.
The Haradrim girl squeaks in surprise as she is suddenly presented with a painted portrait of ... "Oh," Nisrin gasps, blushing a brilliant scarlet, "Farielle, you did not have to ... it is too much." Tenderly, she smiles over the canvas edge and reaches out to take the painting by the edges. "It - he is beautiful."
Scrubbing furiously at her cheeks and casting a furtive glance at the guard, she murmurs, "How did you know..?"
Farielle's tense face and figure relax. "I saw how you looked at him," she explains. "And ... " She hesitates. "Your brother - that time - he spoke of it. Of you and him." The smile is fading, but she forces it back, pushing that particular memory away. "And once, he asked me if I had suitors and what they gave me, and... well, I guessed." She looks delighted by her success, save for the tiny shadow in her eyes that won't be banished.
"That is ... I never thought..." Nisrin smiles contentedly, tracing a line with her fingertip. "It is frowned upon," she says very quietly. "We have not seen each other for weeks, since we docked. But he has come to visit you, per Azradi's orders?"
The girl looks down. "I don't know," she says. "I mean, I don't know if he came on anyone's orders. He... " She hesitates, and finishes, her voice colorless. "He said he would be what passed for a friend to me; that I could not trust many people here, but I could trust him. I... I wanted it to be true. So I didn't ask." A pause. Delicately, "Why is it frowned on?"
"He is clever," the other girl says, gazing fondly at the portrait. "But while he is one of Lady Farside's sea-captains, my family is sworn to serve Seaward Tower. And though the two Towers are on good relations, it would not do for Lady Hashikh to run away to Farside, even if she has a brother," Nisrin finishes bitterly.
"I am sorry," Farielle says softly. "Is there no middle way? That he could stay with Farside and you with Seaward and yet be together?" Another thought brings a frown to her face and she asks, "I keep hearing that Farside and Seaward are different. Tell me how this is?"
But Nisrin shakes her head, unwilling to say more in front of the guard: "Different Lords, different seats on the Council, different loyalties. Might such a union be seen as an opportunity to undermine the confidence of either Tower? Only yesterday I was reminded of my responsibility to my House." The girl drapes the portrait carefully over the edge of the table. "But no more. Farielle - I thank you. If you need anything..."
Farielle frowns in vexation and a note of frustration enters her voice. "Everyone says that I am stupid, but no one will tell me anything!" She stops, takes a deep breath and lets it out. "But that is not your fault." Her eyes flicker to the guard and back to Nisrin. "I am glad it pleases you. And thank you. I will remember." There is a particularly intent look in her eyes.
Nisrin opens her mouth, but perhaps sensing something is amiss, closes it. "Thank you," she says again, and picks up the painting, cradling it so that his face is not visible, and slips towards the door with a quiet smile.
The other girl watches her go, her own smile pleased, if sad. The guard leaves also, shutting the door, and she is alone again. Back to the window, looking out at the sky.
It is not long ere a knock sounds on the door, a pair of gold-flecked brown eyes peering through where it has been left ajar. "Lady?" queries a voice, young and feminine.
Farielle turns, startled, staring at the door. "Oh," she says on a half-laugh. "Come in; I didn't expect to see you. But I'm glad you've come." She turns back to her table, picking something up and holding it in her hand. It's small and wrapped in rough cloth.
Amestris pushes open the door and enters, leaving it ajar. Her expression is somber, even a worried a tad. "I had to come see you, Lady. I have sad news."
"What is it?" Farielle asks, suddenly looking worried herself. "Your family is all right?"
One of the guards moves to stand in the doorway, not bothering to come in, since neither woman has shut the door.
"My family is well," reassures Amestris. "But I will not be able to help you impress Lord Alphros. My father is being sent to the Poros by Lady Azradi and he intends to bring me with him - our homeland is not very far from the garrison."
"Oh." Farielle sounds a little relieved, and she smiles at the younger girl. "It is all right. I - I was going to tell you that it - it probably wouldn't happen anyways. It was very kind of you, though, and I am grateful." She hesitates, looking down at her hands, then, tentatively, holds out the small package. "To say thank you," she says. "I do not know your customs, I hope I don't offend you?"
"It is an honor to receive a gift," replies Amestsris, accepting the package, "And that honor must be returned." She looks down at it curiously, then begins to unwrap it...
"It is I who am returning the gift," Farielle says hastily. "It is for your kindness to me, and for the goat." Her smile flickers. "Even if it's not going to happen; you offered, and no one else has done so much as that."
Amestris smiles and picks up the wooden comb. "Thank you, Lady. It is pretty. But kindness is another sort of thing and the goat has not been delivered. I will make certain your honor is returned - perhaps before I leave if I can, or through a messenger." The girl looks shy and bites her lip, looking away from the lady and to the comb. "I would bring you a gift from my home village, but I may not return to Umbar."
"I am sorry it isn't nicer," Farielle says. She looks at the girl, and doesn't try to continue convincing her that the comb is already a return gift. "It is all right," she says. "If you come again, I will be glad to see you. And if you do not, I will remember you. Where are you going? Are you to be married?"
"We are going to the Poros river," reminds, Amestris politely. "And then to my village. Father says he will look for a husband for me there or along the way. If he finds someone that pleases him, I will be married." As she states this simple fact, there is no trepidation or strong emotion present either for good or bad. But even so, there is a ripple upon her usually calm demeanor.
"I hope he is kind," Farielle says. "And a good provider." The edges of her eyes crinkle in a little true humor. "And pleasant to look upon!"
The girl grins, even laughs a little at Farielle's last wish. "As do I," Amestris agrees, "But kind above all."
"It is my father's right to marry me to whom he wishes," she says. "I do not question this, for he is kind and would never marry me to a bad man or someone I loathed. But I am troubled by this. I have learnt things lately about the oaths sworn to the Tower's of Umbar."
A shadow moves across the other girl's face, darkening her eyes. But she tilts her head curiously. "What is it that troubles you?" Farielle asks, then adds swiftly, "If you wish to tell me; I would not pry."
"In order to live and work in Umbar," explains Amestris, "one must belong to a Tower and that is done by swearing to its lord and the tower itself. That oath cannot be broken and one can only be released by the Tower's lord. My father cannot leave Umbar. If I marry someone far away, I will never live near my mother and father again."
Farielle swallows and looks away, out the window. "I see," she says very quietly. "I am sorry." It seems a little difficult for her to say this, but her words come a little easier as she continues. "Have you - can you speak to your father about this? Perhaps he would find a husband for you who is not so far."
"My father has been asking me whether I am ready for marriage and if there is anyone I would like since I first came to Umbar - even before I came of age," says Amestris. She shifts her feet. "Always I have told him I would do whatever he wished of me and that there was no one that had caught my attention. But I know more now about my own wishes. I want to live near my mother and father and I want a kind man. I will tell him this on the journey. But I fear it will do no good as he has many times mentioned how disappointing and soft he finds the men of Umbar."
The older girl nods, a little jerkily. "I wish I could help you," she says at last, her voice a little dull. "Perhaps there will be a man who would come here to live; your father and mother did, after all. But if not - at least, you will get to see them sometimes, won't you? They can visit?"
"It will not be the same," replies Amestris. She falls silent and looks down at the comb, rubbing her thumb across the smooth wood. "Was this yours?"
Farielle closes her eyes briefly and takes a deep breath. "No, it is not the same," she says, opening them again. "But it is better than nothing." She glances down at the comb and shakes her head. "I found it at the market. I hoped you would like it. I know it isn't much."
"A gift has its own worth," replies Amestris. "Do not feel ashamed of it, for I am not. You are allowed to visit the city?"
A smile crosses Farielle's face again. "Thank you." She looks back out the window, then back at Amestris, trying to sound amused. "With ten guards. I think they must have been very bored; I only went to the markets. I do not think I will be allowed to go again."
"Ten guards?" repeats Amestris, her eyes widening. "You are treated like a towerlord! But why will you not be allowed to return to the market?"
"I think it is more likely they were afraid I would try to run away, or be attacked by someone, than that they intended me any honor." Farielle looks at Amestris for a long minute before answering her question. "Because I do not intend to marry Lord Alphros," she says finally.
A puzzled look crosses Amestris' features at the news, but she says only: "Then I am surprised you remain here rather than the slaves' quarters. Have they told you yet what your fate is to be now?"
"He acts as if I am an object," Farielle explains to the puzzled expression. "And called me... " She flushes and hesitates, her voice lowering, "... like I was a whore," she finishes finally, embarrassed and staring at the floor. She shakes her head, not looking up. "I don't know. No one has said anything. I have seen no one. I - I don't know what will happen to me. I have said that my father will pay for my safe return, but n-no one listens." Her voice trembles slightly, and she clears her throat, forcing the emotions away.
In the corner behind the door, unseen, something stirs and makes a sound, and Farielle looks up, vexation and a little nervousness mixing on her face.
"Lord Alphros said you were a whore?" repeats Amestris, her confusion deepening. "Did someone tell him lies about you?" As fascinating as the topic is, the young girl cannot help but turn around after seeing the expression on Farielle's face. Seeing nothing of course, due to the open door.
"I don't know. I don't know anything and no one will tell me, and no one listens to me or answers my questions. I might as well be speaking to the wall!" A moment later, a bird struts around the corner, tilting its head and staring at Amestris with a black beady eye. "Go /away/!" Farielle says with a kind of irritated desperation. But like everything else in this dreadful land, the bird ignores her.
The answer draws Amestris' gaze back. Her brow furrows. "You asked and Lord Alphros would not tell you why he called you a whore?" She looks back to the door when more sounds emerge. Amestris' reaction is quite different from the Gondorians lady's. Her face lights up in a beaming smile. "He is beautiful! Did you find him in the market, too?"
"Well, no," Farielle blushes again. "I told him if that's what he thought of me, I was surprised he wanted to marry me at all, and I hoped he would find a woman whose honor he could rely on someday, because I wasn't ever going to marry him." More frustration is tightening her voice, making it higher. "It was like he didn't even /listen/! He just said I would find out my fate soon, and set that /bird/ on me!" She says the word 'bird' like it is a curse.
"Why didn't you ask him why he said that?" queries Amestris, a bit of exasperation creeping into her voice. She approaches the bird boldly (the only way to approach a bird). "He set this lovely on you? He looks tame rather than fierce." She holds her hand out, palm up. "Do you have anything to feed him?"
"There is a bowl behind the door." Farielle says. She hesitates. "I was angry," shee confesses, her voice small. "I - I was going to, well, try. To marry him. If he was a decent man and would be kind to me, like you said. But he said I was an - an /object/, and he hoped he and the Lady Eruphel wouldn't be disappointed in their transaction, and then he said I would go around seducing my guards and having babies!" Her voice rises with the words, not in noise level, but in tension and remembered fury.
"Well, it was not very kind to call you an object," agrees Amestris with considerably less emotion than Farielle. "But he must have a reason to think you are whore who will seduce guards and have babies, though I was under the impression that babies come from such things so it seems rather silly to bring it up. But if you got angry and didn't ask him why he said it, I am not surprised he did not offer you an explanation - especially if you did not deny it." She reaches for Farielle's hand. "Come. I will show you how to make friends with your bird. He is too lovely to fear."
"I would never do such a thing," Farielle says, as if it is self-evident. "He should know that." She hesitates, nervously, but lets Amestris take her hand. "It pecked at me."
"He does not know you," observes Amestris. "And someone has likely lied about you. But if he knows that person... In your land, if one of your own said something bad about Lord Alprhos, or even me, you would believe them before even meeting us. It is the same for us."
She draws Farielle abreast of her, but does not try and approach the bird. "My mother taught me how to take eggs from the hens. If you hesitate they will peck you, so you must just reach in under the bird and take the egg. The chicken will recognize your mastery and not harm you. You must do the same with your bird. Show no fear or hesitation. Take a handful of its grains and approach it resolutely, hold out your hand. Do not be unkind, just confident."
Farielle's nod is hesitant, unsure. Perhaps that is how it was... but perhaps he is just an arrogant jerk on a power trip. She eyes the bird equally uncertainly. "It is so large..." But she reaches into the bowl and takes out some of the feed. A minute passes and then another before she takes a deep breath, squeezes her eyes shut and thrusts out her hand, palm open.
The egret turns its head with a graceful jerk, setting its beady eye on Farielle. It assesses her and trots over quickly, as if it means to drive her away. "Do not move," says Amestris, quickly but softly. And sure enough, the egret stops several feet short of the girl. It tilts its head to look at the grain in the lady's hand, then tentatively pecks at it, scattering a few grains as it takes some in its beak. "I have seen these birds in the marshy edges of the river - when I am allowed to go there. They eat fish. Do the servants bring him fresh fish?"
The Gondorian doesn't move - her eyes are still squeezed as tight as she can get them. They pop open when the bird's beak touches her hand - gently. Not drilling through skin and muscle and bone. "Oh," she says quietly, watching it with a dawning wonder in her eyes. "It ate out of my hand." She is enthralled now, staring at the bird as it eats. "I don't think so. I didn't look though." She doesn't say that she was afraid to get too near the bird, and too angry with Lord Alphros to want to. "Do you think it needs fish?"
"Yes," Amestris replies, glancing happily back to Farielle. "It needs fresh fish. I do not think it can live on grains alone, but I am not certain. Perhaps it rushes you because it is hungry and unhappy and wants you to feed it properly."
"Where is the river? Is it far?" Farielle sounds worried now. The grains are gone, and she reaches for more, holding them out again and laughing quietly when the bird takes them once more, as gently as before. "I could take it there..." Across her face rushes the realization that she probably can't, probably wouldn't be allowed to, and right after a stubborn refusal to accept that.
Amestris laughs, "I speak of the River Poros, near my home. It is many many leagues from here. It would take you three weeks to travel there. You can find fresh fish in the market. Does Seaward have a pond?"
"Oh." Farielle blushes. "I don't know if there is a pond, I haven't seen one. But if I can get fish in the market, if that is good enough." She watches the bird, smiling a little, then asks suddenly, "Does it matter what sort?" Her smile widens and turns to a soft chuckle. "I should take it, and let it pick out the ones it wants, itself."
This time the desert girl giggles in a way that might remind one she is not too many months beyond childhood. "It will make the fishmongers nervous. I think you should do it. But it must miss water." She thinks for a moment. "Papa says there are ponds in the training grounds where he drills his men. I am not sure if it is a proper place for a bird, but it is a public place."
"Ponds," Farielle repeats, memorizing a list. "Fish..." She grins at the younger girl. "I will. It should get to pick its own food." She stands up, stretching, and looks down at the large heron. "I should..." Her face tightens a little and she doesn't finish that sentence, saying instead, "I will tell the Lady I need to go out again." A little shyer smile. "Thank you. I was afraid of it, it is so large."
"You just did not know how to be friends with him," replies Amestris. "I suppose your family's animals were not put under your care. My father is important where we live but we all must work. You are more like Lord Alphros and his people - or the Towerlords. Slaves do most of the work - or servants. My tower does not keep slaves."
"You don't?" Farielle's voice is surprised. "I thought everyone here had slaves. I have seen them." She shakes her head. "No, I didn't do very much with the animals. I helped Mother in the house, with the stillroom and the herbals. My brothers worked with the animals. And our servants. We don't have slaves either. No one in Gondor does."
"I am not certain why Farside does not keep slaves," admits Amestris. "But they do not. Everyone who works there is paid. I have heard two stories, though. People have said it is the tradition of the Tower while others have said that the Lady prefers to be served out of loyalty. I have heard that Gondor does not keep slaves, either. That is why they kill our peoople when they capture them."
Farielle is silent. "I don't know," she says at last. "I have not heard of this, but... but I would not. I think." Silence falls again, broken by the quiet click-click-click of the heron's toenails. "I did not think anyone would ever do what... what was done at Caldur, so I don't know any more what to believe. Except that I know my father and my brothers would never kill unarmed people, no matter who they were. Never."
Amestris tilts her heads as she considers this. "My father would kill anyone that threatened our village and he fights for Farside. But I do not know about those who are unarmed. Though criminals are unarmed when they are killed." The girl shrugs. "I should return home, Lady Farielle. I will try and see you again, if I can. If not, I will send a messenger." She bites her lip, then speaks on: "I hope that I will return to Umbar and that when I do, you will be happier."
"I would like to see you again. But I will understand if you cannot come." Happy. Farielle's eyes lift to the other girl's and then drop again. "Thank you," she says at last.
The Bazhani girl reaches out to embrace the lady. "May you never thirst or hunger," Amestris says, smiling. Then pulling away, she leaves the room.
Farielle returns the hug, tightly, and when Amestris is gone, she goes to the door and speaks to the guards there. There is no reason to wait, after all. And finding fish for a heron will distract her.