Post by RedsandRoyals on Apr 1, 2013 23:22:52 GMT -5
So, I started this with the vague notion that I might use it for Soap's story contest (Read the entries here, they're all great!) but it ended up being quite a bit longer than I intended, so I shelved it instead of trying to trim it down. Figured I might as well post it here in case people are interested in it, though. This is part 1, 2 and 3 to follow once I finish redoing them.
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First, by their area of expertise. That was the most important part, obviously. Then alphabetical by title, as conventions dictated. They stood in this mandatory rank and file before her, soldier awaiting their orders, subjects awaiting the favor of their ruler. She smiled as she inspected them. Of course, there were a few individuals, her favorites, were allowed to sneak to the first or second place in their respective line, the position of honor. No further than that, of course, they had to stay with their companions, but that was enough. There was something so deliciously naughty about letting them break rank like that, letting just a bit of favoritism toy with the natural order of things. She ran a finger down the spine of one of these offenders, and nodded. All was well.
Avita's book collection was her pride and joy, a library to rival that of any noble lord or learned scholar. She had a ravenous appetite for literature, from the most fanciful and trashy romance novels to the driest and most mundane of manuscripts. She had an overwhelming urge to read -no, consume- them all, as if trying to fill some hole in her mind with knowledge. Once she had gutted each volume of whatever it had to offer, she would go to great pains to place it in exactly the right position on the shelves among its fellows, even if it meant having to re-order an entire book case to do it. This was critical, because although she could remember the contents of each book down to where the punctuation marks fell, she was occasionally seized by a frantic urge to reread whole swaths of her collection, and confirm that the books still held the same words, in the same order. It was silly. Avita knew it was silly. But from time to time, she just had to check that each iota of information was still there, that each phrase was turned in the same way as the last time she had opened the book. So far, the tomes had passed these surprise inspections, but it never hurt to check again.
There was a knock at the door to her chambers. Well, "chambers" was a bit generous. When she had first come here, they had been true living quarters, a sitting area and a bedroom with an attached bath, all luxuriously furnished. But that had been years ago, and as time went by, she had slowly taken over more and more of this lonely manse, stripping out furniture and annexing rooms to hold her ever-growing acquisitions, knocking down walls, installing new doors, and always, always adding more book cases, until the entire top floor was hers. The small cohort of guards and servants that lived here with her called it "the librarium". They were always happy to help in her newest remodeling project, of course, but she, and only she, would set the books on their shelves, ensuring there was no error in their placement as they manned the wooden ramparts of the shelves. But where was she? Right, knocking at the door.
"Enter."
A man of middling years entered, and she quickly dissected him with her eyes, trying to parse out whatever information she could about him before he insisted on speaking. She started with the man himself. Curiously, she couldn't remember his name, or much else about him aside from a few morsels. She knew (well, suspected) that he was her benefactor, the man who owned this manse and who funded her expansive collection. He visited her usually once or twice a month, but never stayed at the manse, and never wanted anything in return for his generosity, aside from his presence being tolerated during his visits. Beyond that, though, she couldn't summon any more facts about him. He had told her his name, more than once, she thought, but she couldn't remember the damned thing, or who he was, or what he did that he could afford all of this. The only other thing her memory could offer up, with an apologetic shrug, was emotions. There was an echo of trust and compassion that came forward whenever she saw him and a faint stirring in her chest. Whenever he offered her his sad smile in greeting, she couldn't help but award him one of her own in exchange.
She started to pick apart his appearance -his dark eyes and hair, the pale grey Splinterwood uniform with its mismatched Vanxian officer's webbing- in the search for further clues about who he was, but he interrupted her visual vivisection.
"Good evening, Avita. How are you this evening?" Even his voice, which she knew she had heard before, sounded unfamiliar. At the same time, though, some hidden wisp of memory nudged her, telling her it was good to hear it again. She secretly delighted in his accent, an amalgamation of inflections and twists of the tongue from a myriad of worlds that made it unique. She wanted to write a book about it, detailing when and where each facet came from, but she never felt like it was a good time to ask.
"Evening? I thought it was still morning. I've been reshelving books all day, I had to make room for a new guide to lichen found in the Southern hemisphere of Coldwater." She sat down on her cot. The original double bed had taken up far too much space, space that was surrendered to more shelves. Besides, it was more practical. One of the guards, struck by a bolt of genius, had fitted wheels to it, so she could push it to whatever section she was interested in at the time, park it there, and spend the night reading without having to be more than a few feet from where the book belonged.
"You should try looking outside from time to time, if you haven't covered up all the windows with your shelves." he gestured at the city of wood that surrounded them with a smirk. "You might even find something out there that's not in one of your books."
"You know as well as I do how unlikely that is." she teased, crossing and uncrossing her ankles as usual when she was forced to talk to someone. "Besides, it's proved easier to bring the world in here with me." she added, indicating her library with a sweep of her arm."
"I suppose. May I sit?"
"Of course."
He rested heavily on the bed next to her, inside her bubble of personal space. Normally, that was something she detested, but she allowed him the privileged. She felt more comfortable when he was next to her anyway, rather than standing some distance away.
"So, what are the lichen of Southern Coldwater doing these days? Anything I should know about?" he asked once he was settled
'Nothing interesting. In fact, the mathematical inverse of interesting, but at least I-'
'-know about it" the man finished for her automatically.
She laughed, and aimed a playful swat at his arm "If you came to talk to me, you could at least let me finish my-"
"-Sentences?" he ducked another swat. "Sorry, couldn't help it. Besides, I'm not just here for a little chat." He slid his hand into the map case at his hip.
"We had some unfinished business, did we not?"
"We did indeed." Avita nodded, watching his hand as it slowly came back out of the case. It was holding a book, a book with no title or author's name etched into the spine, a book with a blank cover. Her eyes narrowed as she hung a smile on her features. "I still don't see why you won't just give it to me to read."
"Because this way we can spend time together doing something you might..." he pauses, catching the next work before it could escape, and replacing it with a shoddy substitute. "...enjoy, more than just talking, I mean."
She nodded thoughtfully "I suppose if you're going to lavish me with everything I need and want in life, I could stomach you not giving it to me."
For a brief moment, there was a flicker of pain on his face, like an old wound had ached just to remind him it was still there. It was gone the next second, though. "Well, do you remember where we were?" he asked, waving the book just out of her reach.
She feigned irritation "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. The brave Duke and the beautiful and wise Sage had gone on a quest to save the kingdom from the evil witch, and through their trials and travails, had grown to love one another. Now they have defeated the witch's minions, and are about to face her in a final showdown." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, if you wanted to read something to me, you could have at least picked something that wasn't so terribly cliche."
The man raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, if you feel that way about it..." he started to rise, sliding the book back into his map case. Avita grabbed his arm with both of her hands, and yanked him back down on to the bed beside her.
"Not so fast. If you're going to make me suffer though such predictable tripe, you're damn well going to finish it.' She said, poking him in the ribs with a playful grin.
He laughed, and opened the book. "Well, if the lady insists..."
--------------------------------------------
First, by their area of expertise. That was the most important part, obviously. Then alphabetical by title, as conventions dictated. They stood in this mandatory rank and file before her, soldier awaiting their orders, subjects awaiting the favor of their ruler. She smiled as she inspected them. Of course, there were a few individuals, her favorites, were allowed to sneak to the first or second place in their respective line, the position of honor. No further than that, of course, they had to stay with their companions, but that was enough. There was something so deliciously naughty about letting them break rank like that, letting just a bit of favoritism toy with the natural order of things. She ran a finger down the spine of one of these offenders, and nodded. All was well.
Avita's book collection was her pride and joy, a library to rival that of any noble lord or learned scholar. She had a ravenous appetite for literature, from the most fanciful and trashy romance novels to the driest and most mundane of manuscripts. She had an overwhelming urge to read -no, consume- them all, as if trying to fill some hole in her mind with knowledge. Once she had gutted each volume of whatever it had to offer, she would go to great pains to place it in exactly the right position on the shelves among its fellows, even if it meant having to re-order an entire book case to do it. This was critical, because although she could remember the contents of each book down to where the punctuation marks fell, she was occasionally seized by a frantic urge to reread whole swaths of her collection, and confirm that the books still held the same words, in the same order. It was silly. Avita knew it was silly. But from time to time, she just had to check that each iota of information was still there, that each phrase was turned in the same way as the last time she had opened the book. So far, the tomes had passed these surprise inspections, but it never hurt to check again.
There was a knock at the door to her chambers. Well, "chambers" was a bit generous. When she had first come here, they had been true living quarters, a sitting area and a bedroom with an attached bath, all luxuriously furnished. But that had been years ago, and as time went by, she had slowly taken over more and more of this lonely manse, stripping out furniture and annexing rooms to hold her ever-growing acquisitions, knocking down walls, installing new doors, and always, always adding more book cases, until the entire top floor was hers. The small cohort of guards and servants that lived here with her called it "the librarium". They were always happy to help in her newest remodeling project, of course, but she, and only she, would set the books on their shelves, ensuring there was no error in their placement as they manned the wooden ramparts of the shelves. But where was she? Right, knocking at the door.
"Enter."
A man of middling years entered, and she quickly dissected him with her eyes, trying to parse out whatever information she could about him before he insisted on speaking. She started with the man himself. Curiously, she couldn't remember his name, or much else about him aside from a few morsels. She knew (well, suspected) that he was her benefactor, the man who owned this manse and who funded her expansive collection. He visited her usually once or twice a month, but never stayed at the manse, and never wanted anything in return for his generosity, aside from his presence being tolerated during his visits. Beyond that, though, she couldn't summon any more facts about him. He had told her his name, more than once, she thought, but she couldn't remember the damned thing, or who he was, or what he did that he could afford all of this. The only other thing her memory could offer up, with an apologetic shrug, was emotions. There was an echo of trust and compassion that came forward whenever she saw him and a faint stirring in her chest. Whenever he offered her his sad smile in greeting, she couldn't help but award him one of her own in exchange.
She started to pick apart his appearance -his dark eyes and hair, the pale grey Splinterwood uniform with its mismatched Vanxian officer's webbing- in the search for further clues about who he was, but he interrupted her visual vivisection.
"Good evening, Avita. How are you this evening?" Even his voice, which she knew she had heard before, sounded unfamiliar. At the same time, though, some hidden wisp of memory nudged her, telling her it was good to hear it again. She secretly delighted in his accent, an amalgamation of inflections and twists of the tongue from a myriad of worlds that made it unique. She wanted to write a book about it, detailing when and where each facet came from, but she never felt like it was a good time to ask.
"Evening? I thought it was still morning. I've been reshelving books all day, I had to make room for a new guide to lichen found in the Southern hemisphere of Coldwater." She sat down on her cot. The original double bed had taken up far too much space, space that was surrendered to more shelves. Besides, it was more practical. One of the guards, struck by a bolt of genius, had fitted wheels to it, so she could push it to whatever section she was interested in at the time, park it there, and spend the night reading without having to be more than a few feet from where the book belonged.
"You should try looking outside from time to time, if you haven't covered up all the windows with your shelves." he gestured at the city of wood that surrounded them with a smirk. "You might even find something out there that's not in one of your books."
"You know as well as I do how unlikely that is." she teased, crossing and uncrossing her ankles as usual when she was forced to talk to someone. "Besides, it's proved easier to bring the world in here with me." she added, indicating her library with a sweep of her arm."
"I suppose. May I sit?"
"Of course."
He rested heavily on the bed next to her, inside her bubble of personal space. Normally, that was something she detested, but she allowed him the privileged. She felt more comfortable when he was next to her anyway, rather than standing some distance away.
"So, what are the lichen of Southern Coldwater doing these days? Anything I should know about?" he asked once he was settled
'Nothing interesting. In fact, the mathematical inverse of interesting, but at least I-'
'-know about it" the man finished for her automatically.
She laughed, and aimed a playful swat at his arm "If you came to talk to me, you could at least let me finish my-"
"-Sentences?" he ducked another swat. "Sorry, couldn't help it. Besides, I'm not just here for a little chat." He slid his hand into the map case at his hip.
"We had some unfinished business, did we not?"
"We did indeed." Avita nodded, watching his hand as it slowly came back out of the case. It was holding a book, a book with no title or author's name etched into the spine, a book with a blank cover. Her eyes narrowed as she hung a smile on her features. "I still don't see why you won't just give it to me to read."
"Because this way we can spend time together doing something you might..." he pauses, catching the next work before it could escape, and replacing it with a shoddy substitute. "...enjoy, more than just talking, I mean."
She nodded thoughtfully "I suppose if you're going to lavish me with everything I need and want in life, I could stomach you not giving it to me."
For a brief moment, there was a flicker of pain on his face, like an old wound had ached just to remind him it was still there. It was gone the next second, though. "Well, do you remember where we were?" he asked, waving the book just out of her reach.
She feigned irritation "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. The brave Duke and the beautiful and wise Sage had gone on a quest to save the kingdom from the evil witch, and through their trials and travails, had grown to love one another. Now they have defeated the witch's minions, and are about to face her in a final showdown." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, if you wanted to read something to me, you could have at least picked something that wasn't so terribly cliche."
The man raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, if you feel that way about it..." he started to rise, sliding the book back into his map case. Avita grabbed his arm with both of her hands, and yanked him back down on to the bed beside her.
"Not so fast. If you're going to make me suffer though such predictable tripe, you're damn well going to finish it.' She said, poking him in the ribs with a playful grin.
He laughed, and opened the book. "Well, if the lady insists..."