Library, Monday (11/1)

[ancientbschamp.livejournal.com]

Normally, this was the day of the week when you would find Gabrielle perched on a chair at the desk to the sound of cheerful, tuneless humming and the soft, rapidfire scratch of quill against parchment and the faint aroma of fresh-brewed coffee lingering in the vicinity.

In the wake of the trip to Kaeleer a few days ago, two of these things were true today: namely, Gabrielle was behind the desk, and there was coffee, but there wasn't much in the way of cheer or literary productiveness, and you'd have to settle for an introspective and somewhat quiet aide on this particular Monday. Actually, a third thing was partly true as well; there was a parchment scroll in front of her, although she was reading it, not writing on it. Anyone who could decipher the random and completely made-up alphabet writing on it might catch a glimpse of something about Roman forces in Britannia, a message from Boadicea, and the rise of a monotheistic cult of some concern.

It kept the library quiet, at least -- and Gabrielle realizing she was going to be packing for another trip very, very soon.

It couldn't possibly be worse than what she'd just gone through, anyway.