Seaward Tower: Lord's Library
This can only be the main Library of Seaward Tower. Many tomes, mostly old but a few of more recent vintage, prominently line the walls of this eastern chamber in shelves seven feet high. Yet, equally important is the desk beneath the eastern window, and a small arrangement of couches and footstools; here the Lord receives more intimate guests than in the vast hall below.
Following the gentle concave curve of the wall are the windows, six in all from the northeast to the southeast. During the long mornings, the sun makes this the brightest chamber in the Tower, and dust motes from the ancient tomes dance in the sunlight. But the wonders of this room can barely compete with the breathtaking view of Umbar provided by the windows.
In a soft couch, pushed a little out of line so that it sits directly in the bright pool of sunlight spilling through the windows, Farielle is curled up reading. Apparently, she has found something in all this library written in a language she can understand.
She is still very thin, and though her color looks somewhat healthier than a little while ago, there are dark circles under her eyes as if she isn't sleeping well.
There are some words spoken near the door in a language she does not know. The guards questioning a visitor, or perhaps warning them. The curve of the room hides the door entrance and it is only when the light of the first window splashes upon Yildirim that he is seen.
His eyes squint as he passes into the light, and too it shines off his mail that he wears, so new is its forging. But save for that, all in all, little has changed with the young man. He scans the rows as he walks towards Farielle, idling searching for others.
Farielle looks up warily, at the first sound of voices, watching until she sees someone round the corner. But the glare of light off his mail blinds her, and it isn't until she puts up her hand that she sees who it is. And still she watches warily, though some unspoken tension fades - a little.
A short wave is given, "Farielle," as he closes the distance, "It is well to see that you still breathe. I had my worries."
"Are you," a pause, "Well? At least, as can be?"
"Yes," Farielle replies. "I am well." A flicker of a smile crosses her mouth and is gone. "As well as can be." She sets the book aside and looks up at him, waiting. There is little expression to be seen on her face, and her eyes are in shadow from the sun behind.
He crosses the rest of the distance and squats near her chair, with an affable smile he replies, "Well, good then." He motions towards the book, "I am interrupting you from your studies, would you rather I come back later?"
The girl glances at the book and shakes her head. "I am not studying, not really. I just didn't want to sit in my room and stare at the walls any longer. There isn't much here I can read..." She makes a face, though the grimace doesn't seem to reach her eyes. Few of her expressions do. "This one is about sewers or something. How to drain them properly so they don't back up... It might send me to sleep though."
His tone and manner become more careful at her responses, his expression slightly confused. "Would you like me to bring you some books to read?" he asks, his tone muted. "Have the Seaward healers looked at you?"
"That would be nice, thank you."
"A girl comes. Her name is S'aria. She wants me to drink things. I - " For the first time something shivers through her eyes. "I don't want to," she says flatly. "But Amestris has said she will bring me something that will help me sleep."
"I do not know this S'aria. What can you tell me of her?" Yildirim asks, as kindly as anything he has asked of her. "May I examine you, Lady Farielle?"
"She is an Easterner. A priestess. Of - /him/." Farielle nearly spits the word - difficult with such a small, innocuous syllable. Then she relents a little. "She is younger than I, and nice enough, I think. She comes and talks at me."
At his question, she stiffens a little. After a pause, "What will you do?"
"I will look at your arms and your neck, listen to your breath and check your eyes. Before I touch you, I will tell you what I am doing. If you are uncomfortable, you may ask me to stop."
Yildirim head tilts slightly, "Is this all right?"
Another moment passes and then Farielle nods. "Yes." She hasn't relaxed at all though, and her breathing quickens slightly.
He takes a dagger from his belt and sits near the light spilling down. He holds it up in front of her, "Can you follow the knife with your eyes?" And then he moves it back and forth, occasionally bringing it so that she must look into the light.
Farielle tracks the dagger easily, though she squints when she has to look into the sunlight, as if it makes her eyes hurt a little.
He puts the dagger away and reaches for her arm, his fingers lightly gripping her wrist, "Did Vain or his men hurt you?"
Her muscles are tense under his hand, but she doesn't flinch away. "I don't think so," she whispers. "I was tied to a chair or the bed for a long time, but I don't think they did anything." She sounds strangely uncertain though.
He nods, "Did they say much to you when you were with them? Names? Places?" He sets her arm down and then reaches for her hair, pulling it away from her neck slowly, as if she make break, then two fingers against her neck and too examining it for injury.
"No. At least, not ... not that I can be sure of. I did hear a name once: Massai." Farielle does flinch now, a little, but stills herself. Her pulse is light and fast. "They put drugs in my food after that, and I don't know what was real and what wasn't. I tried not to eat..." She doesn't explain the consequences of that small act of rebellion.
"Drugs you say? Have you told any one else this?" Yildirim asks as he rises and steps behind her, "I am going to listen to your breath now by placing my ear upon your back. It is strange, but it works," and then he does as he said, asking her to breathe in and out in deep breaths.
"Yes. I have told Eruphel and Lojrul and ... Nikahti?" She stumbles over the name a little. "And Amestris."
One breath in, out again. Another. Save for being unable to relax, all seems as it should be.
"You seem healthy enough, though frightfully tense." Yildirim pulls away from her and back into his squat, "How do you feel?"
"I can't sleep," Farielle says, as unemotionally as if she tells him of the contents of her sewer-drainage book. "I have nightmares, and I hate it to be dark. And I am not hungry."
"Well, I have a tea that can aid with the sleep. It is sweet and fragrant, certainly more pleasant than what the other girl brings. You have a lamp for your room?" Yildirim asks.
Another smile crosses Farielle's face, lasting a little longer this time. "Several," she says, and almost her eyes twinkle at him. If any expression so light and cheerful could make it past the barrier there. "Lots. I told the guards to bring me as many as they could find, and I think they did not, but I have enough. And I light them all."
She hesitates though at his offer of tea, saying uneasily, "I - " And then stopping, and visibly forcing herself to nod. "Yes... thank you."
"A moment then. Do not leave?" Yildirim asks, standing.
Farielle nods, sitting and watching after him. She doesn't pick up the book again.
Yildirim turns and lightly jogs from the room, making a brief comment to the guards. He is gone for the better part of an hour.
And then, again words with the guards and he steps into the library once more.
Farielle is waiting where he has left her, though she has gotten bored, clearly, and is reading the book again. She looks up, shutting the pages nervously.
He carries a small sack that bounds lightly with each step he takes, "How are the sewers? Rich and inviting?" Yildirim quips as he makes the distance between the two.
"Very," Farielle answers. "And most likely smelly." Her gaze drops to the sack, then lifts to his face.
"So, let us see what we have," and he falls to the ground excitedly, sitting crosslegged in front of her sofa. He pulls from the bag another, smaller sack. Then from it, he shows her a handful of flowers, white with yellow centers like a daisy. "Here smell," he says, offering a single dried stem to her. "Crush this and seep it like a tea. It's quite nice."
Yildirim's enthusiasm brings a smile to Farielle's face again, but she looks more anxious than happy, even as she takes the flower, sniffing it cautiously. "What is it?" she asks him. And then, "It won't make me see things?" Foolish to ask - if it did, would he tell her?
He laughs, "No, no. It is a common tea. Uh... hmm... I do not know the name of it in Westron actually. My mother would give it to me after a bad dream. I would be happy to drink some with you. And," he leans in conspiratorially, "If you see things, let me know. We can sell it for a fair price to the right people."
"Oh!" Farielle looks at the flower again and blushes faintly. "I know it, yes. I - I had forgotten. Eloissel would scold me. It is chamomile." Her eyes fly up to his, uncertainly, and then, as if she has forgotten how, she laughs. And looks startled by the sound.
"And then for the nightmares," he reaches into the bag and pulls from it a simple, rag doll the size of a new born. It is of a simpler design than those of Gondor, and the coloring of its skin is certainly darker. It looks like no little girl of Belfalas. But, it is quite soft, the texture a rough silk.
"This is Hayrunissa. Her name means day dream. And now, she is yours. During the day she is not so powerful, but at night, she has the power to ward off terrible dreams!"
A doubtful look crosses Farielle's face, but she takes the doll, holding it. "If you say so..." She sounds as if she is too polite to contradict him - but is thinking it! Instead, she repeats the name. "Hayrunissa."
"My cousin had one just like it and she claimed it worked for her. I had a blanket instead of a doll for my nightmares." Yildirim coughs into his fist, "Or something."
He stands again, "So, some help, perhaps with your troubles?"
Already, unconsciously, Farielle's arm has curved around the doll. She looks up as he stands, to keep her eyes on his face. "Thank you," she says, sounding a little sheepish. "It makes me feel like a little girl. But if it helps... It can't hurt to try."
"Well, I shall return and see how things are going," Yildirim says, leaving the rest of the sack with the rest of the tea.
"But I am glad to see you seem well. Nisrin was worried about you as well. I will return with books as well."
The swift faint smile returns, and warms her eyes as briefly. "I wish - " she says, and then stops, and shakes her head slightly as if to shake off the words. "She is teaching me to speak some Harad," is what she does say. "And thank you - again. It will be nice to have something to read. I miss our library."
"And if you remember anything else of your capture, please try to remember to tell me. It is quite important."
"Well, I must be on my way for now."
He looks a bit sad to take his leave as well, "Good eve, Farielle. I hope you can find some peace tonight."
Farielle nods. But before he can leave, she says, "Can you tell me - do you know where Lord Alphros was. While those men had me?" She watches him with a strange intensity.
"He asked me specifically to find you. I know he was in the city, but most of my time is in the employ of his sister. Though, he was on the seas for a time as well," he replies.
He waits expectantly, perhaps for an explanation.
A frown draws her eyebrows together. "I saw him," she says at last. "Everyone tells me it cannot be, so it must have been the drugs. But ... " She shakes her head a little, dissatisfied.
"That is all. Thank you." She gives him another small smile, though it does nothing to remove the troubled look from her face. This, she removes herself, wiping her expression blank.
"I cannot say what it was, but I doubt it was him. He was very adamant in me finding you so I think he knew not where you were."
"I am sorry. I am not so good with injuries of the mind so I cannot say what was done."
Of all the responses Farielle has gotten, this is the most convincing. She nods and seems a little reassured. "I do not know either. I would talk to someone only to see them dissolve into mist before my eyes. And things kept changing. That shouldn't, I mean. Like my bed. I never knew what was real and what wasn't, and I have lost my memories. I was there for weeks, they tell me, but I didn't know it." But she shakes her head again. "I am keeping you, and you need to go. I am sorry."
"That you are," Yildirim teases, "But I have a bit more latitude with tardiness than when we last met."
"Regardless, there is much to be done. I am seeking the one that took and hurt you so that he may be brought to justice. If you remember anything that you think would aid me; it would help me and you if we could learn what drugs were used on you and to what purpose."
"I will think," Farielle promises. "But I can't guarantee that anything I remember will be true." She looks a little curious then. "More latitude? You - were you promoted?" she guesses.
"Something like that," he laughs in reply, "Though there is a saying in Harad about escaping a den of jackals by falling into a pit of snakes. I think it looses something in the translation."
"Enjoy your tea and keep a steady hold on Hayrunissa."
"It is like jumping out of the cookpot and landing in the fire." Farielle nods. "That is what Gwaithmir said." She waits until he has gone before returning to her book. The very fascinating study of the construction of sewers. The doll is still in her lap, the small bag of tea tucked carefully beside it.
It was a fascinating book - if one was interested in sewers. Farielle flipped through the pages resignedly. At least it was something to read. There were even diagrams of the best ways to brace the tunnels if they could not be dug in solid rock and..
She turned the page, then froze, and cautiously turned it back. That diagram was not a diagram. It was a map. Farielle stared at it. It couldn't be. Who knew when or by whom the book had been written? That it would be a map of the sewers here - of Umbar - was far too great a coincidence. Still...
She bent her head over it, trying to follow the twists and turns of the faint lines. Trying to memorize them.