Post by rainstormamaya on Mar 28, 2009 11:12:48 GMT 10
Title: A Little Light Reading
Summary: Marnie returns books to the library after a posting at the Gallan border, and Vania tags along. Unintended consequences ensue.
Rating: PG
Genre: Humour
Series: Post-PotS
Author's Notes: This is fic for the Royal Library Challenge on the_swoop; Marnie is my original character from Tales (*points at icon*), which is seriously due an update.
*********
“Why are we here?”
Vania’s voice rang out through the library, earning her both a disapproving stare from the Master Librarian and a mild hushing noise from the young fair-haired Rider who was walking through the library with her.
“Why are we here?” the princess repeated in more hushed tones.
“Because I have books to return,” Marnie said mildly, going over to the duty librarian’s desk and putting down the three slightly battered books on the shining wood.
“You could do that later,” Vania suggested.
“I suppose I could.”
“Come ice-skating with me! Lianne says she will too!”
“I haven’t got skates,” Marnie pointed out, smiling at the librarian. “Morning, Meghan.”
“Morning, Rider Woodsman,” Meghan smiled back, taking the three books and looking them over quickly. “I see you’ve returned from the backwoods, and without a scratch on you- well done.”
Marnie grimaced sheepishly. “There was a broken wrist...”
“Mercy on us. Was it bad?” the helpful librarian said solicitously, as she eyed the spine of one of the books –First Impressions, or, Pride and Prejudice- critically, and set it aside for repair.
“Could have been worse,” Marnie shrugged, as Vania fidgeted behind her. “Talia splinted it for me in the field, and Sir Nealan set it for me. I was lucky.”
“I’ll say,” Meghan murmured, checking the other two books back into the library and flicking back through an enormous, leather-bound ledger to put a neat X mark beside the entry three and a half months previously of the three books loaned out to Marnie. “And you managed to bring the books back in one piece too, which is more than the commander does.”
Marnie smiled. “I tried to look after them.”
“You did very well. One never knows what’s going to happen to these books when we allow Riders or the Own to borrow them, and I must say some people should take a deal more care... There. Will you be taking out any today?” Meghan asked, and then noticed Vania, who had been loitering, half-hidden by Marnie. “Good morning, Princess Vania. Were you looking for something?”
Vania started, and turned surprised blue eyes on the librarian. “Er- no thank you, ma’am.”
“No? Ah well.” Meghan smiled warmly at her. “Perhaps another time, your highness. Marnie, we’ve just bought in two new ones by this author-“ she tapped First Impressions gently- “Patience, and Sisters. I think you’ll like Patience; Sisters is... mm, I don’t like it so much.”
“All right- thank you for the recommendation. Are there any more of the William of Shakespear plays?” Marnie asked hopefully, and Meghan shook her head.
“No, but there’s a Player company putting on A Winter’s Tale down in the Lower City all this week. I’m told it’s good, but not cheerful like A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Oh, and there’s a bear in it,” Meghan added, stacking books.
“A bear?” Vania enquired, interested. “Can I go?”
“You’d better ask your mother,” Marnie deflected neatly. “All right, Meghan- I’ll just go and browse a little, shall I?”
“All right. Enjoy yourself,” Meghan said cheerfully, and turned to pass an enormous stack of books onto an apprentice, with a sharp recommendation to mind his step.
Marnie wandered happily away from the duty desk, soaking up the atmosphere.
“Can we go now?” Vania asked plaintively, the thin winter sun shining through the windows and glancing off soft dark hair. “We could go riding in the Forest.”
“No,” Marnie said. “I want to get some more books out of the library. And when you are my age and have spent three weeks in the saddle this close to Midwinter, trying to get back to Corus, you may think about going riding in the Royal Forest in the snow, and I think you’ll find yourself choosing to stay indoors...”
It was warm and dry in the library, the polished wood of the bookcases and panelled walls gleaming softly. Sconces in the walls gave off light, as well as the healthy –and very carefully guarded- fireplaces strategically placed, and the armchairs had been reupholstered in the months Marnie had been gone. Apprentices in slate-blue robes hurried this way and that, looking permanently peaky and harassed, trolleys carrying books and once a terrarium containing a small green lizard –presumably from one of the two lecture-rooms nearby- wheeled slowly past, and there was a general air of utter timelessness. The silence was not, to the Master Librarian’s irritation, absolute; there was the occasional quiet whispering, and sometimes a stifled snort or giggle, or a thud as a book fell off a shelf and the culprit, feeling guilty, hurriedly stooped and picked it up. Nearly everyone who felt they could brave the Master Librarian’s deadly stare came in to borrow a book, check a reference or indulge in a romantic assignation: from court ladies to the more literary Riders and members of the Own, knights, mages, and frantically studying pages, everyone came here. And of course, there were the books; leather-bound, cloth-bound, scrolls, brightly-coloured bodice-rippers, subdued works of academia, innumerable plays and tales and histories.
Marnie smiled. It was very easy to forget you loved books when you were in the mud and chill of the Gallan border and you only had three to read, even assuming you could borrow a book from others, which you often couldn’t- although she had been lucky to find that Lady Kel also had a taste for relaxing with books when she could, and there had been some swapping and discussion of the books in question, particularly of a rather lurid bodice-ripper which Kel’s sister Oranie had pressed on her. It was very popular, although Marnie had found it dull, formulaic and inaccurate; something about a young commoner girl falling in love with a spectacularly beautiful god of hunting and bloodshed?... And the title had been something to do with the time of day: Marnie remembered that much. She also recalled being irritated by the book, and wondering why, if Isa was a normal commoner, she didn’t have to do all the housework and cooking, and why her wearing breeches was not cause for any comment if she lived in a small village.
She turned into the small aisle where she knew the works of the anonymous author who had produced First Impressions resided, and started to browse quietly, Vania- hushed but not silenced -tagging along behind. There were some excellent new ones, too, not far past the books Meghan had recommended- Marnie had never heard of Miss G. Heyer, but Frederica looked entertaining without being stupid, although The Black Moth was straying into bodice-ripper territory. Marnie tucked Patience under her arm and picked up another one by the same author- The Reluctant Widow.
“Lianne likes those,” Vania commented, peering over her shoulder at the book. “I think books are boring, though...”
“Don’t say that in here!” Marnie admonished, not paying much attention, and Vania drifted away again to look at some titles, small comments like ‘why do the women always have to be rescued, anyway?’ and ‘no interesting stories’ filtering back to her as she read the first few pages of the book she held.
Eventually, she decided that she would take out The Reluctant Widow, Frederica and Patience, and turned away from the shelves, looking for Vania. “Nia. Nia?”
She took a couple of steps, and stumbled over Vania’s long legs, stretched comfortably out on the carpet while their owner sat up against a shelf, reading avidly. “Sorry,” Vania said absently, rearranging her legs so she sat cross-legged, but not taking her eyes off the book. “Can we stay a bit longer? This is a proper book. I like it... oh. Er, Marnie, what’s a ‘peak of ecstasy’?”
“Ah,” Marnie said, heart sinking, and crouched down to look at the book. Love And Duty was the title, and the cover illustration –oh dear- was a very rough approximation of two Riders in extraordinarily well-fitting uniform, a woman with long flowing black hair swooning in a fair-haired, smouldering-eyed man’s arms. “Nia? I think you should put that back.”
Summary: Marnie returns books to the library after a posting at the Gallan border, and Vania tags along. Unintended consequences ensue.
Rating: PG
Genre: Humour
Series: Post-PotS
Author's Notes: This is fic for the Royal Library Challenge on the_swoop; Marnie is my original character from Tales (*points at icon*), which is seriously due an update.
*********
“Why are we here?”
Vania’s voice rang out through the library, earning her both a disapproving stare from the Master Librarian and a mild hushing noise from the young fair-haired Rider who was walking through the library with her.
“Why are we here?” the princess repeated in more hushed tones.
“Because I have books to return,” Marnie said mildly, going over to the duty librarian’s desk and putting down the three slightly battered books on the shining wood.
“You could do that later,” Vania suggested.
“I suppose I could.”
“Come ice-skating with me! Lianne says she will too!”
“I haven’t got skates,” Marnie pointed out, smiling at the librarian. “Morning, Meghan.”
“Morning, Rider Woodsman,” Meghan smiled back, taking the three books and looking them over quickly. “I see you’ve returned from the backwoods, and without a scratch on you- well done.”
Marnie grimaced sheepishly. “There was a broken wrist...”
“Mercy on us. Was it bad?” the helpful librarian said solicitously, as she eyed the spine of one of the books –First Impressions, or, Pride and Prejudice- critically, and set it aside for repair.
“Could have been worse,” Marnie shrugged, as Vania fidgeted behind her. “Talia splinted it for me in the field, and Sir Nealan set it for me. I was lucky.”
“I’ll say,” Meghan murmured, checking the other two books back into the library and flicking back through an enormous, leather-bound ledger to put a neat X mark beside the entry three and a half months previously of the three books loaned out to Marnie. “And you managed to bring the books back in one piece too, which is more than the commander does.”
Marnie smiled. “I tried to look after them.”
“You did very well. One never knows what’s going to happen to these books when we allow Riders or the Own to borrow them, and I must say some people should take a deal more care... There. Will you be taking out any today?” Meghan asked, and then noticed Vania, who had been loitering, half-hidden by Marnie. “Good morning, Princess Vania. Were you looking for something?”
Vania started, and turned surprised blue eyes on the librarian. “Er- no thank you, ma’am.”
“No? Ah well.” Meghan smiled warmly at her. “Perhaps another time, your highness. Marnie, we’ve just bought in two new ones by this author-“ she tapped First Impressions gently- “Patience, and Sisters. I think you’ll like Patience; Sisters is... mm, I don’t like it so much.”
“All right- thank you for the recommendation. Are there any more of the William of Shakespear plays?” Marnie asked hopefully, and Meghan shook her head.
“No, but there’s a Player company putting on A Winter’s Tale down in the Lower City all this week. I’m told it’s good, but not cheerful like A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Oh, and there’s a bear in it,” Meghan added, stacking books.
“A bear?” Vania enquired, interested. “Can I go?”
“You’d better ask your mother,” Marnie deflected neatly. “All right, Meghan- I’ll just go and browse a little, shall I?”
“All right. Enjoy yourself,” Meghan said cheerfully, and turned to pass an enormous stack of books onto an apprentice, with a sharp recommendation to mind his step.
Marnie wandered happily away from the duty desk, soaking up the atmosphere.
“Can we go now?” Vania asked plaintively, the thin winter sun shining through the windows and glancing off soft dark hair. “We could go riding in the Forest.”
“No,” Marnie said. “I want to get some more books out of the library. And when you are my age and have spent three weeks in the saddle this close to Midwinter, trying to get back to Corus, you may think about going riding in the Royal Forest in the snow, and I think you’ll find yourself choosing to stay indoors...”
It was warm and dry in the library, the polished wood of the bookcases and panelled walls gleaming softly. Sconces in the walls gave off light, as well as the healthy –and very carefully guarded- fireplaces strategically placed, and the armchairs had been reupholstered in the months Marnie had been gone. Apprentices in slate-blue robes hurried this way and that, looking permanently peaky and harassed, trolleys carrying books and once a terrarium containing a small green lizard –presumably from one of the two lecture-rooms nearby- wheeled slowly past, and there was a general air of utter timelessness. The silence was not, to the Master Librarian’s irritation, absolute; there was the occasional quiet whispering, and sometimes a stifled snort or giggle, or a thud as a book fell off a shelf and the culprit, feeling guilty, hurriedly stooped and picked it up. Nearly everyone who felt they could brave the Master Librarian’s deadly stare came in to borrow a book, check a reference or indulge in a romantic assignation: from court ladies to the more literary Riders and members of the Own, knights, mages, and frantically studying pages, everyone came here. And of course, there were the books; leather-bound, cloth-bound, scrolls, brightly-coloured bodice-rippers, subdued works of academia, innumerable plays and tales and histories.
Marnie smiled. It was very easy to forget you loved books when you were in the mud and chill of the Gallan border and you only had three to read, even assuming you could borrow a book from others, which you often couldn’t- although she had been lucky to find that Lady Kel also had a taste for relaxing with books when she could, and there had been some swapping and discussion of the books in question, particularly of a rather lurid bodice-ripper which Kel’s sister Oranie had pressed on her. It was very popular, although Marnie had found it dull, formulaic and inaccurate; something about a young commoner girl falling in love with a spectacularly beautiful god of hunting and bloodshed?... And the title had been something to do with the time of day: Marnie remembered that much. She also recalled being irritated by the book, and wondering why, if Isa was a normal commoner, she didn’t have to do all the housework and cooking, and why her wearing breeches was not cause for any comment if she lived in a small village.
She turned into the small aisle where she knew the works of the anonymous author who had produced First Impressions resided, and started to browse quietly, Vania- hushed but not silenced -tagging along behind. There were some excellent new ones, too, not far past the books Meghan had recommended- Marnie had never heard of Miss G. Heyer, but Frederica looked entertaining without being stupid, although The Black Moth was straying into bodice-ripper territory. Marnie tucked Patience under her arm and picked up another one by the same author- The Reluctant Widow.
“Lianne likes those,” Vania commented, peering over her shoulder at the book. “I think books are boring, though...”
“Don’t say that in here!” Marnie admonished, not paying much attention, and Vania drifted away again to look at some titles, small comments like ‘why do the women always have to be rescued, anyway?’ and ‘no interesting stories’ filtering back to her as she read the first few pages of the book she held.
Eventually, she decided that she would take out The Reluctant Widow, Frederica and Patience, and turned away from the shelves, looking for Vania. “Nia. Nia?”
She took a couple of steps, and stumbled over Vania’s long legs, stretched comfortably out on the carpet while their owner sat up against a shelf, reading avidly. “Sorry,” Vania said absently, rearranging her legs so she sat cross-legged, but not taking her eyes off the book. “Can we stay a bit longer? This is a proper book. I like it... oh. Er, Marnie, what’s a ‘peak of ecstasy’?”
“Ah,” Marnie said, heart sinking, and crouched down to look at the book. Love And Duty was the title, and the cover illustration –oh dear- was a very rough approximation of two Riders in extraordinarily well-fitting uniform, a woman with long flowing black hair swooning in a fair-haired, smouldering-eyed man’s arms. “Nia? I think you should put that back.”