Seaward Tower: Farielle's room
It's evening, but early yet. A cool breeze blows through the two windows that this room has. It is larger than the other, but more crowded as well - for there are three cots in it, and not just one. Two are side by side against the far wall; the third is in the opposite corner behind a screen. Between the two is a table and a young Hardornian woman is sitting at it, sewing. A slightly older woman is lying on one of the bed, resting - she looks to be Umbarean.
The rest of the room is much like the one Farielle had before; a little more richly furnished. Her things - the paints, an embroidery kit, a box of books, some clothing (the two silk dresses provided by Alphros being notably invisible) - are neatly arranged. In the corner behind the door, is the heron, who watches the two women servants with what might be suspicion, did a bird feel such. And there is another door, clearly connecting through to a second room. This one has a chest pushed in front of it, blocking it from opening.
Farielle herself is sitting as she has grown accustomed to - on the floor, on a cushion, with her back against the wall. She has a book open in her hands, but isn't really looking at it. And, as before, there are numerous lamps around, and all of them are lit. The girl still looks thin and tired.
The heavy scent of flowers is slowly apparent at the door. Nisrin is heard talking to one of the Hassadite guards outside.
The younger of the two women, Hikalla, looks around at the sound of voices, and then gets up and goes to the door, opening it a crack and looking out.
"Oh ... hello," says Nisrin to the maid. She is holding an armful of jewel-toned lilies, their scent overwhelming the air. "May I come in? I am an acquaintance of Lady Farielle."
The girl eyes the flowers and takes a luxurious sniff. "Ohhh, aren't those nice!"
"Who are you? I'll ask the Lady if she wants visitors." In a lower, conspiratorial voice, she says, "Do her a bit of good, I'd say!"
"Nisrin," says the corsair girl. "...Hashikh," she adds after a hesitant pause, and smiles. "I will do my best to cheer her up."
"Lady - it's Nisrin Hashikh," Hikalla says, turning her head to look inside. "Shall I ask her in? She's brought some of the most beautiful flowers!" Her voice is almost coaxing.
Farielle looks up after a minute. Not as if she is ignoring the woman, but as if her reactions are delayed a little. After another minute, a hesitant smile crosses her face. "Yes," she says. "And, Hikalla, would you go and bring us something to drink, please?"
"And a vase, if you can find one!" Nisrin shuffles in, trying to see beyond the flower-tops. She is wearing the outfit that Farielle chose the last time they met, and her curls are held back by a carven ivory comb. She smiles, but it does not light up her eyes. "Tariq is nice," she ventures...
"Oh, well. Yes, of course, my lady." Hikalla nods and smiles and glances at the other woman, still sleeping. "I'll be back in a jiffy!" She whisks out the door, shutting it behind her.
Farielle glances at the door. "Is he?" she asks, uncaringly. "They are very pretty. Where did you get them?"
"Market," giggles Nisrin girlishly. "They sell everything..." The corsair leans in and glances about before speaking in a low voice, "By the hair of the Sea Lady, what happened?"
The Gondorian glances casually over at the sleeping maid. Her voice equally low, she asks, "..with what?"
Nisrin sighs. "What happened so that you were wed to Alkhaszor, not his King?" she asks plainly.
Farielle looks down. But for just a minute, if Nisrin was looking, she might see a blaze of hatred and bitter anger in the other girl's eyes. "I don't know," she says tonelessly. "Lord Alphros sent him to bring me to him. And S'aria. He asked if I wished to marry him. I said I did not. How could I /want/ to marry him? I do not know him. I would have married him if he ordered it, for what choice did I have? But to say that I /wanted/ to - I could not lie."
She is trembling at the memories, and her hands clench tightly together. "So he said that he would show me a kindness. Kindness!" She spits this out, the only word with any emotion attached, then reverts to an unemotional recital. "He would not marry me. Instead he would marry me to Alkhaszor. Alkhaszor despises me. He could only find himself able to bear the shame of being wed to one so vile as myself, when Lord Alphros promised him the lordship of my family in Gondor."
That this can only occur if said family members are dead first, she doesn't say. "However, I am such a shame to them both, that they have sent me back here to learn proper behavior from the Dark Citadel." Now she does look up; her face dead white and set implacably. The anger and hatred have vanished from her eyes, replaced by an unalterable purpose. With another look over at the sleeping maid, she lowers her voice still further. "I am not staying here. I don't know how, but I will go home, or I will die trying. I - you have been my friend, Nisrin. I do not ask for help you cannot give, but please, do not betray me." From dispassionate to set-in-stone, now a note of pleading enters her voice.
"I will not betray you," says Nisrin, swallowing hard. She takes the comb from her hair and begins to fiddle with it, tracing the scrolled carving on its spine. "There is ... a path through the garden maze, if that is your plan. Keep the aloes that grow alongside the path always to your right, and you will come near the gate. That is all I can give you."
Farielle nods, committing it to memory.
"Why would he do such a thing?" she asks after a while, unhappily. "If he did not want me himself... but to give me to someone like that? Is there no kindness in him?" For a brief second, she looks like she might start to cry, as she says in a whisper, "Am I truly so v-vile?"
Then her gaze is caught by Nisrin fiddling with the comb. The maid stirs, turning over heavily, and Farielle blinks back the tears, and pushes away her misery, smiling mechanically. "That is pretty - is it new?"
"You are not vile, for you have done nothing against us but wash Gondor's bandages," says Nisrin gently. "But there is no place for you here. Better that you make preparations and leave soon, before," the girl looks away, "you become content and sit in your cage. 'Tis a lovely room," she adds louder as the maid begins to wake.
"It was a gift." The corsair smiles, looking down at the comb. "From Yildirim."
For a moment, Farielle's eyes cling to Nisrin's, and her smile gains trueness. She nods, dropping her gaze to the comb again, and manages an almost-natural laugh. Well - at least, it doesn't sound /too/ sickly! "Yildirim!" she says as if delighted.
The door opens again and Hikalla comes back in, breathlessly saying, "My lady, I found this for a vase, and here..." She sets down a pitcher and two glasses on the table beside the girls, and takes the lilies from Nisrin, fussing over arranging them and setting them with a flourish beside the drinks. "There. Now isn't that nice?"
"Thank you," Farielle says, smiling up at Hikalla. "Tell me all about it," she orders Nisrin, picking up the pitcher and starting to pour. "I knew he liked you!"
"It - it is not much, really," admits the other girl, her face turning dark rose. "We went to the lighthouse, I do not know if you have seen it, but it looks out across where we first met. You can see all Umbar from there, standing above all the dust and heat and filth of the city..."
"Thank you," says Nisrin cheerfully to the maid, looking over to the flowers.
"Can you go in it?" Farielle asks, her voice quickening with interest. "I went there once, to sit in the shadow and look out over the water. I didn't know you could go inside."
The smile grows teasing. "You went there together? Alone? And he gave you this? Nisrin! He /does/ like you! He was asking me about gifts to give a lady. Oh, I'm glad."
"There is only a firepit there, nothing interesting. - We did not do anything else, you know!" cries Nisrin in mock indignation. "Ohh, it was you who suggested it. I did not know if he had such ... experience. With wooing," she finishes awkwardly. "It was a lovely suggestion."
"No, no." Fari is shaking her head. "I didn't suggest anything. I only told him that the gifts I liked best were the ones where I knew the person had thought about what I would like. So you see, he did! Take time to think what you would like." She giggles, but blushes too at Nisrin's reply.
"I must get something for him, as well," decides Nisrin. "Is it proper for a woman to give gifts to a man?"
"Yes," Farielle says firmly, though a sudden shadow crosses her face. There is a pause, and then she says, "Only - only I do not know what." She pushes away the thought of the gift she had bought once - So long ago. Four months ago. - and never given. "What do you think he would like?"
"Something ... useful?" Nisrin runs a hand through her curls. "I know so little about him, and yet he knows so much about me. It seems ... unfair?"
"I don't know..." Farielle shakes her head then. "I think," she says slowly, "Perhaps I am wrong, but just once, I think you should get him something frivolous. Something he would never get for himself." She glances at the flowers, and grins mischievously. "You can always get something useful when you know what he needs and would use!"
"But he takes things seriously, I think," says Nisrin blushingly. "Oh, I do not know. I will take a look around the market. Are you allowed to go outside, Farielle? Perhaps we could go together sometime."
"Then it would be good for him," Farielle says, firmly. "I would like to go with you, that would be fun." Some thought strikes her and she turns, rifling through a small chest. When she turns back, she is holding out a small money pouch - the one Nisrin gave her. "Please," she says. "I said that I would pay you back, and now I can. I - I am given an allowance. I do not want to wait, for fear I should forget." Her eyes are intent, a meaning in them other than the words that are said.
"Of course." Nisrin eyes the purse, but takes it and holds it gingerly, giving the Gondorian an imperceptible nod. "You are ... honorable, Lady Farielle. I hope the shoes still look nice!"
Unacknowledged relief broadens Farielle's smile. "They do," she answers, and nods towards where her dresses hang. The slippers are sitting beneath them. "I haven't much opportunity to wear them, so they are nearly like new."
"They match with other things, you know," says Nisrin sensibly. "Trousers and things. Shirts. We should look for some."
"Oh. I have never worn trousers," Farielle confesses shyly. "You do not think... I would - would I look silly?"
"They are easier to move around in, since you might trip in skirts," the other girl replies. "Not that noblewomen run around all day, mind you..."
"I suppose..." The two maids are moving quietly around the room, and now one goes to the door and leaves. Hikalla again. There is briefly the sound of her laughter and chatter with the guard, then it is quiet again. "I could try, anyways," Farielle says after a moment of maidenly hesitation.
"They are not very good for wooing men, though," admits the Haradrim girl. "When might you be able?"
The smile freezes. "I will not be wooing anyone," Farielle says, her voice hard. She takes a breath and lets it out, and the moment is gone. "Tomorrow?" she asks.
"I know," says Nisrin softly, sounding a little hurt. "What I meant was they would be easier for ..." The girl shrugs and adjusts a flower, smiling. "Tomorrow I will come by, then."
"I'm sorry," Farielle says in quick apology, reaching to touch Nisrin's hand. "You didn't deserve that from me. I - I speak too quickly, sometimes."
"I will be ready."
"It is all right," murmurs Nisrin, smiling absently. "Very well." And she steps towards the door.
Pants. Perhaps she could dress as a boy. Farielle tried to keep the leap of hope from showing in her face - it wasn't as hard now as it would have been at home. She had months of practice at not showing what she was feeling. If she cut her hair and colored her face and hands with the paints Azradi had given her, and dressed as a boy...
She had no idea if the guards would pay attention to a ragged lad leaving Seaward's gates, or if they only concerned themselves with people trying to come in. But she had no other ideas either. And she would have to disguise herself if - when she escaped. The entire city would be looking for her as soon as they realized she was gone; she dared not be a white-skinned girl anywhere within reach of Umbar's walls.
She went to sleep thinking gratefully of Nisrin's support.