fandomhigh | Fandom Library, Wednesday

Elisabeth had tried to find the library on Monday, but had ended up getting distracted by castle exploration and had only managed to spot it after it had closed. Tuesday she had no classes, but here it was Wednesday and after her last class had been dismissed, she beelined straight for the library. The door opened under her hand and then swung open, almost in invitation. One that Elisabeth didn't hesitate to accept.

There was just something about the way that libraries smelled that made her feel at home; the scent of a thousand books.

She let herself in and began poking around the stacks, not looking for anything in particular, just getting a feel for how it was laid out, trailing her fingers across shelves and spines. For the first time since arriving, Elisabeth felt like she was home. And yet, incredibly homesick at the same time.

"If you could just move and communicate, it'd be just like Summershall," she whispered to a collection of sonnets.

There was a moment of stillness and then all the books in that row fell off their shelves and fluttered over to her, surrounding Elisabeth in a cyclone of paper and ink. The susurrus of the wind in their pages sounded like whispers; she could almost hear them saying 'Hello, hello.

"Why - why - this is a Great Library!" Elisabeth gasped. "You're all alive! Like the grimoires at home!"

The books dipped, like a nod of agreement - and then flew off into the furthest corners of the library.

Because of course they did.

And Elisabeth sped off to go catch them and put them back. Because no library apprentice would stand for books being out of order, no matter what library they were in.

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"Oh they go here," Elisabeth said with unyielding confidence. Even if it didn't feel right, the numbers on the bottom of the spine matched the numbers on the ends of the shelves.

"Well, this book switched jackets with this other one," she added, holding up another book. "But I caught them as I was shelving them." She snorted.

That was Level One grimoire stuff, come on now.

"Right. Librarian speaking," he said, projecting his voice as he looked around at the shelves. "Summer fun is over and classes are in session you plonkers, so I expect an attempt at decent behaviour, though gods know you'll find new and interesting ways to vex the aides soon enough. Try to keep the library damage to a fucking minimum."

He looked back at her. "You. New girl. What's your name, sunshine?"

Elisabeth unconsciously straightened at the authority in his voice. "Apprentice Elisabeth Scrivener, sir," she said. "Of the Great Library at Summershall."

"Of course you are," he sighed theatrically. Gods help him, this was another painfully earnest one, wasn't she? But he needed another aide and she wasn't swooning at the books and their nonsense.

"Right, Liv, get a key from under the counter on your way out. One of the ones with a tag that says 'library entrance.' Be back next week, same day, and stay out of Special Collections. That's the big doors with the magical wards on it. Welcome to Fandom, try not to die, you're hired."

"Yessir - wait, what?" Elisabeth asked. "I'm hired?!"

She didn't question the admonition to try not to die. That was pretty close to what was said to new apprentices.

"You're already putting them away, I might as well pay you for it," he pointed out, smirking. "I'd be even more of an asshole than usual if I let you work for free."

Elisabeth very nearly pointed out that that was what apprentices did. But the promise of delivery - and the need to get her own sheets - oh, and towels - and the idea of having spending money for the first time in her life - kept her from protesting.

"Special Collections is like the vault, right?" she asked instead. "Filled with all the dangerous books? The ones that can kill? The ones that really want to?"

"Books don't kill," he said shortly, giving her a sharp glance. "Unless the stacks fall over and you get buried in them."

"What's in books can get people killed, absolutely, and many of them want to be read because it's what they were created for, to be used. You can't blame them for that. The ones that are spitefully alive, that might take an actual bite out of you because they have teeth and shit manners, well, those are locked up even within Special Collections. Iron bindings, spells, all that jazz."

"Iron and salt," Elisabeth said nodding, reaching down to the pouch at her waist. "But, uhh, where I'm from, the books absolutely can kill."

Even the Level Fives and Sixes could kill. And that wasn't counting Maleficts.

"Do you blame a broom for being a broom?" he asked, lips quirking up in a half-smirk. "They were made, pet. The most dangerous ones here may have been made to be weapons, true, but does that make them killers when they act to their nature? I say the book did not kill, but the person using it, or creating it."

"But what about Maleficts?" Elisabeth asked, tilting her head. "Would you still blame the creator for those deaths?"

Edited 2019-09-07 18:27 (UTC)

"Only 'malefics' I'm familiar with are the planets that some of the more new-age types claim are bad luck," he replied. "So tell me about your Maleficts."

Yes, he'd heard the capital M on the word.

"Grimoires that are damaged or get dirty can turn into giant, lumbering monsters intent on causing as much mayhem as possible," Elisabeth explained. "I think Master Hargrove explained it that there's so much magic just seeped into the books that as soon as the seal is broken, it all comes rushing out."

Fandom Library, Wednesday

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