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Dribble Drabble April (A Great Library Event)
Stats:
Published:
2020-04-01
Completed:
2020-04-30
Words:
3,000
Chapters:
30/30
Comments:
201
Kudos:
24
Bookmarks:
2
Hits:
505

Ephemera: A Dribble Drabble April Project

Summary:

1. Book: Wolfe/Santi angst, Rome reference
2. Travel: Khalila/Dario bittersweet
3. Wolfe's Hair: Wolfe/Santi fluff
4. Barracks: Glain paranoia
5. Cooking: Thomas&Dario humor
6. Silver: Khalila&Eskander Library changes
7. Library Cuffs: Wolfe humor
8. Khalila's Notes: Khalila/Dario fluff
9. Printing: Jess Library changes
10. Dario's Wardrobe: Khalila/Dario fluff
11. Ice-Cold Drink: Thomas&Dario friendship, Rome reference
12: Hug: Wolfe/Santi fluff
13. Codex: Wolfe/Santi angst, torture mention
14: Ptolemy House: Dario humor
15: Nic's Tattoo: Wolfe/Santi angst
16. Archives: Khalila angst
17. Thomas's Fists: Jess&Thomas trauma
18. Money: Wolfe fluff
19. Stars: Wolfe/Santi trauma
20. Morgan's Hands: Jess grief
21. The Hive: Dario&dads drinking
22. Quill Pen: Keria/Eskander family
23. Medicine: Jess&Thomas comfort
24. Jess's Tie: Jess/Thomas fluff
25. Sleep: Wolfe/Santi comfort
26. Automata: Glain angst
27. Language: Wolfe/Santi fluff
28. Glain's Weapon
29. Scholar's Robe: Wolfe/Santi angst
30. Game: Wolfe, family fluff

Chapter 1: Day 1, A Book: From the personal journal of Lord Commander Niccolo Santi

Chapter Text

I read Christopher's book when he isn’t looking. I don’t know how to tell him I saved it.

It’s battered. The cover is creased, the pages bent. But Christopher’s handwriting is there, preserved like a bug in amber. If I compare it to newer writings, I see the differences.

It looks like all of his manuscripts did. He used to show them to me so often. How could such an ordinary thing break us both?

I flip through the pages, and I hear his voice. An echo of a lost Christopher. Between the lines, I hear a lost Niccolo, too.

Chapter 2: Day 2, Travel: From the personal journal of Archivist Khalila Seif-Santiago

Chapter Text

Our honeymoon begins today. Our first journey together as husband and wife. Writing those words, I feel dizzy.

So much has changed in so little time. This morning, we passed the ruin of Poseidon. Soon enough, we will arrive in Cadiz. My prayers each day will be sincere. I cannot forget the costs of this new peace.

But this is not the time to dwell on the past. We sit together now on the deck of the ship. Well, I sit. Dario reclined his chair fully, the better to sun himself. He is wearing nothing. We will not be disturbed.

Chapter 3: Day 3, Wolfe's Hair: From the personal journal of Lieutenant Niccolo Santi

Chapter Text

He has magnificent hair. Dark as a raven’s feathers. No, a crow’s. He’s a Stormcrow, after all. God, what a Stormcrow he is.

It flows around his face like his robe around his body. When it’s brushed, at least. When I woke to the sight of him today, it was a thicket of tangles.

Still beautiful. I want to put my hands in it, comb it with my fingers while I kiss him. I want to bury my face in it and breathe its scent. I want to feel it on my lips when I whisper that I love him.

Chapter 4: Day 4, The High Garda Barracks: From the personal journal of Lieutenant Glain Wathen

Chapter Text

Jess was right about these fucking things. The whole time we were in training, I thought he was paranoid, but he was right. They’re watching us. They’re always watching.

I go the long way coming into the barracks because I can’t stand going past those Spartans. They turn their heads when I walk by, and I wonder who is looking through their eyes. I avoid the sphinxes, too. Time their patrols. Looking at those things makes me sick.

It’s stupid. If anyone’s looking, it’s just Santi. Maybe Khalila. Worst it could be is Vargas. Doesn’t matter. I still hate them.

Chapter 5: Day 5, Cooking: An exchange of Codex messages between Scholar Thomas Schreiber and Scholar Dario Santiago

Chapter Text

Schreiber: Make for Khalila. For the chocolate craving.

1 handful chocolate

1 handful sugar

2 handful flour

Chunk butter

Few drops vanilla

Splash milk

Stir. Oven until solid.

Santiago: I can’t make that. That is not a recipe. 

Schreiber: It is. You mix the things together. She will like it, I know she will.

Santiago: Handfuls? Splashes? These aren’t measurements! You’re an artifex, how can you be this imprecise?

Schreiber: The proportions are what matters. Use any measurement you like.

Santiago: But what… No, forget it. Nevermind.

Schreiber: You can’t cook. It’s all right. I will make it for her.

Chapter 6: Day 6, Silver: Transcript of a meeting between Archivist Khalila Seif and Obscurist Magnus Eskander Pallis

Chapter Text

Archivist: You’re certain?

Obscurist: Yes. You don’t object, do you?

Archivist: Curia have always worn gold bands. Historically, there is no precedent for this.

Obscurist: Given your sweeping reforms, I wouldn’t think that a problem.

Archivist: No, but… I don’t want to disrespect your position. Even with the press, you are still essential to the Library.

Obscurist: As is every silver-band librarian. I assure you, the goodwill this will gain among the Obscurists is worth any respect I lose. Let me have it.

The Obscurist Magnus is recorded as receiving a silver band.

Archivist: How does it fit?

Obscurist: Perfectly.

Chapter 7: Day 7, Library Cuffs: Draft of a lesson plan by Scholar Christopher Wolfe

Chapter Text

Objective: To see what Brightwell can do. To amuse myself at Nic’s expense. To educate students on the proper usage of Library tools.

Materials: 1 set Library cuffs, 1 Codex

Procedure: Make Brightwell sweat. Instruct student on theory and practice of tracking through scripts. Demonstrate application of cuffs to suspects. Demonstrate Codex map access and tracking function. Send Nic for a run. Assess understanding through practical exercise.

Assessment: Watch Brightwell chase Nic. Student will apply cuffs to volunteer assistant and activate. Assistant will travel to a location chosen at random. Student will use map and tracking function to locate assistant.

Chapter 8: Day 8, Khalila's Notes: A Codex message from Scholar Dario Seif-Santiago to Archivist Khalila Seif-Santiago. Marked private.

Chapter Text

My Lady,

I have, as requested, organized your notes and recopied them as necessary in my finest calligraphy.

As you have granted me permission to comment, I would like to say that I continue to be both amazed and humbled by your genius, your compassion, and your dedication. On each of these pages, I see an unrivaled Scholar whose insightful questions drive innovation in every field. I see an Archivist who cares for the needs of even the lowliest servant and gives all her heart to the work we share.

I am honored to serve you.

Yours always,

Dario Seif-Santiago

Chapter 9: Day 9, Printing: From the personal journal of Librarian Jess Brightwell

Chapter Text

We finished our first print run today. Tomorrow we’ll box the books up and send them away. They’re going to every Serapeum in the world.

Starting tomorrow, anyone who walks into a Serapeum will be able to borrow those books. We’re going to ask people to bring them back when they finish reading. I’m sure a lot of people won’t. Glain thinks people will be scared to even take them. Maybe she’s right. We’re starting another print run tomorrow, anyway.

The books explain how to build a press. That was Thomas’s idea. Now no one can ever suppress this again.

Chapter 10: Day 10, Dario's Wardrobe: From the personal journal of Scholar Khalila Seif

Chapter Text

As I am contemplating his virtues, I would be remiss not to mention his wardrobe. Dario dresses exceptionally well, always fashionable, with a touch of dramatic flair to catch the eye. When it comes to color, he favors the dark and the bold. Blacks and reds, deep blues and bright purples, shades that complement his hair and eyes. For materials, there is a great deal of silk and velvet, trimmed with lace or glittering metallic accents. He has some truly lovely brocades. The cuts of his jackets always flatter, and his trousers…

Well. His trousers fit him very well, indeed.

Chapter 11: Day 11, An Ice-Cold Drink: From the personal journal of Scholar Thomas Schreiber

Chapter Text

Strange things surprise me now. Dario came by the workshop today with drinks. That was not surprising. We all try to look after one another now. Jess and I will be going to see Glain at the barracks tomorrow.

But that is not what I wanted to write about. It was the drink Dario brought. Very sweet and a little sour, made with the mineral water that bubbles. Very good. That did not surprise me. Dario always brings fancy, tasty things.

But it had ice in it. Ice. It was so cold. I forgot that cold things can be good.

Chapter 12: Day 12, A Hug: From the personal journal of Scholar Christopher Wolfe

Chapter Text

I’m going soft. I hugged Nic in front of the children today. Not for any logical reason, but simply on a whim.

It isn’t as if they’ve never seen us embrace. There was the Spanish embassy, of course. Other moments when we needed one another too badly to worry about who else was present. But under normal circumstances, we’ve always kept such displays private.

I saw the way they looked at us. A little surprised, but warm. Relieved, even, as if they’ve been waiting for us to let our guard down.

Gods help me, I may just do it again.

Chapter 13: Day 13, A Codex: From the personal journal of Scholar Christopher Wolfe. Interdicted to the Black Archives.

Chapter Text

Are you reading this, Mother? Theo? May Ammit devour you both.

Nic gave me a new Codex and journal. Black leather, my name in gold, beautiful. I touched my band to them, and everything was gone. Oh, you left me access to the Archives, I see. How kind.

But the notes I exchanged with Nic? My private writings? What heresy did you find there? Love?

I let him hold me for a long time after that. My body remembers every single time he has ever touched me. Did you think your torture could take that from me, too? It failed.

Chapter 14: Day 14, Ptolemy House: An excerpt of a letter from Postulant Dario Santiago to his younger sister

Chapter Text

As for accommodations, they are austere, to say the least. They have put us two to a room, if you will believe it, and even the offer of a generous donation did not sway them to grant me a private room. I am forced to share with an Englishman. An ill-mannered commoner.

Service is minimal. The servants do nothing more than sweep the common areas and set out food at mealtimes. We must make our own arrangements for laundry. I am told I must even clean the bathroom I share with the Englishman. Maybe I can enlist him to scrub...

Chapter 15: Day 15, Nic's Tattoo: From the personal journal of Scholar Christopher Wolfe. Interdicted to the Black Archives.

Chapter Text

I sleep little most nights. We leave the glows on, so I can lie in bed and read, or watch Nic while he sleeps.

I like to look at his tattoos. There, on his arm, is his lion. Beautifully done in blue ink with its mouth wide in a roar. It could take on anything, that lion.

I like to imagine it a guardian spirit that might spring forth at the sight of danger to protect us both. It stands before us, glowing spectral blue, and even memories flee.

But on bad nights, it turns its savage gaze on me.

Chapter 16: Day 16, The Archives: From the personal journal of Archivist Khalila Seif

Chapter Text

I told her to do it. All the others would have let her run. Jess, poor Jess, of course he would have saved her. But Thomas, too, and Glain. They looked ready to drag her away when Wolfe called the retreat. Wolfe, his whole life dedicated to the Library, and Santi, both throwing themselves at her barrier. Even Dario, I think, would not have told her to stay.

Knowledge is all. I weighed one life against countless knowledge, and I ordered her to burn. Does that make me a monster? An Archivist? 

Please, Allah, let this have been your will.

Chapter 17: Day 17, Thomas's Fists: From the personal journal of Librarian Jess Brightwell

Chapter Text

I know when the memories get bad because I see him clenching his fists. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it sometimes. We’ll be in the workshop, tinkering with one thing or another, and I’ll see big fingers curling tight. The worse it gets, the more he does it.

I do what I can. Distraction is good. Get him talking about a new design or theory until his hands stay relaxed and he’s smiling again. Activity, too. We’ve been doing self defense exercises. Those are important.

Sometimes he wants to talk. I put my hands over his fists and listen.

Chapter 18: Day 18, Money: A paper note delivered to Scholar Christopher Wolfe. Destroyed upon receipt.

Chapter Text

Thank you, once again, for your generous contribution. With this donation, we will be able to purchase a Codex and two Blanks for each of the orphans. Along with the tutor whose salary you continue to fund, these will greatly improve the children’s education. 

Will you not reconsider visiting us? I know that much has changed since your own residence here, and few of the people you knew remain, but I assure you that the children would be overjoyed to meet you. May I at least tell them your name? You might serve as an excellent role model for them.

Chapter 19: Day 19, Stars: From the personal journal of Scholar Christopher Wolfe

Chapter Text

At times, I crave quiet. Light, noise, taste, touch all become too much, and I want to hide from it all.

Tonight, we sit in the garden and watch the stars. We do not touch. Do not talk. I ate only bread today, and Nic did not complain. He allows me my quiet on days like this.

He wants to hold me. I see the way his arm twitches, then goes still. He reaches instead for his journal, and we write. His hand moves in sharp, frustrated strokes.

He doesn’t understand how it helps to sit together beneath the stars.

Chapter 20: Day 20, Morgan's Hands: From the personal journal of Librarian Jess Brightwell

Chapter Text

I feel her hands, sometimes, when I’m half asleep. In my imagination, they’re softer than they ever really were, with none of the calluses of the hard life she lived. She doesn’t touch me the same way as she did when she was alive. There’s no passion in it, only gentle comfort.

“Is love comfortable?” she asked in her journal. I know, I was an idiot to read it, but I couldn’t resist. It feels comfortable now, when I imagine her hands on me. Yes, love can be comfortable, I think.

I miss you, Morgan. You deserved better than me.

Chapter 21: Day 21, the Hive: From the personal journal of Scholar Dario Seif-Santiago

Chapter Text

I keep ending up in the Hive. It’s the one place we can all agree on. No one dumb enough to fight Glain, none of Jess’s “cousins”, and German beer for Thomas.

I drink there with Wolfe and Santi, too. Not together, usually. Doesn’t matter which of them it is. We grab a corner table, and it’s always, “He’s working late again.”

“Yeah, so is she.”

“He’s going to work himself to death.”

“Yeah, so is she.”

Never thought I’d have so much in common with them both. Neither minds being alone so much. They just worry. So do I.

Chapter 22: Day 22, a Quill Pen: A Codex message from Obscurist Magnus Keria Morning to Obscurist Eskander Pallis. Sent through a secure channel. Marked private.

Chapter Text

I’m writing this with your quill. It’s been here for years, untouched. Fitting that I picked it up by accident when Christopher’s message woke me.

Even half asleep, I knew his handwriting. He asked me to check tracking scripts, find someone. Lieutenant Niccolo Santi. He was frantic. Well, rude, but I can read between lines.

I can read incident reports, too. As can you.

Our son is in love. With a soldier. A man. A good man, to judge by his records. How different his life can be than what we’re confined to.

I wish them well.

I envy them.

Chapter 23: Day 23, Medicine: From the personal journal of Scholar Thomas Schreiber

Chapter Text

We are hypocrites, Jess and I. 

Until he is cleared to go, I am staying with him in the infirmary. That way, I can make sure he stays in bed and takes his medicine on schedule. He doesn't like it, but it is good for him.

But tonight, the Medica came in before he was asleep to give me my sleeping pill. I do not want to take it. There is work to do in the lab. But Jess made me promise to take it. He took his pills because I promised to take mine.

So tonight, we’ll both sleep.

Chapter 24: Day 24, Jess's Tie: From the personal journal of Scholar Thomas Schreiber

Chapter Text

Jess looks good in a tie. Jess looks good in anything, but he is especially handsome when he dresses nicely. He always dresses up for my lectures. He does not dress up for Dario’s. But he likes to do things like that to annoy Dario.

He must have been in a hurry today. His tie was not knotted properly. It was hard to focus because every time I looked at him, I wanted to go and fix it. I did not. Even after. That would be rude. 

He kept looking at me like he expected something. What is he thinking?

Chapter 25: Day 25, Sleep: From the personal journal of Scholar Christopher Wolfe

Chapter Text

Last night, exhausted, I asked Nic for the coddling I usually refuse. He was glad to oblige, of course. He used to spoil me regularly before passivity and helplessness became one and the same.

He helped me shower. Brushed my hair. Massaged me from neck to feet. Tended to parts I’ve too often forgotten as of late. Not the same as before, but pleasant. Like comfort. Like home.

He held me through the night, and I lie in his arms still, trying not to wake him while I write. I feel his breath on my neck, slow and gentle. Warm.

Chapter 26: Day 26, Automata: From the personal journal of Lieutenant Glain Wathen

Chapter Text

I saw her do it with a lion, first. She reached right in and changed it. Then the pack of lions. Then birds. Gods. By then, she didn’t have to even put her hand in.

And then it was me. She reached right into me. I didn’t feel it when it happened. Too busy dying. But I feel it now. Ghostly hands inside my body, rearranging me, changing me. Remaking me according to her will.

I’m grateful. Really. I like being alive. But should anyone have that kind of power?

Sometimes I wonder how much I am like the lion.

Chapter 27: Day 27, Language: From the personal journal of Scholar Christopher Wolfe

Chapter Text

How does one go about prying into the details of a man’s childhood? Particularly when one has no desire at all whatsoever to share such information oneself. This is a truly frustrating conundrum.

I have no need to hear of his family, his schooling, his childhood adventures. All saccharine tales, I am certain. Charming, perhaps, but irrelevant to my purpose. 

No, what I need to know is the region of Italy from which he hails and the span of time his family has resided there. From that, I should be able to determine the proper dialect of Italian to study.

Chapter 28: Day 28, Glain's Weapon: From a note attached to a package sent by Translation from Lieutenant Tom Rolleson to Lieutenant Glain Wathen

Chapter Text

I should have given you this months ago. There wasn’t time when you got the promotion, but after things settled down… I kept forgetting. Sorry about that. Now here I am stuck in America, and I’m sending it by Translation before I forget again. This is the Hound’s Tooth. You can see why.

 It’s been passed down from one Squad Leader to the next for years. Story is that the first Squad Leader of the Blue Dogs, Sergeant Miyamoto, took it from a Burner when they cleaned them out of Moscow. Gutted the bastard with his own knife, and then...

Chapter 29: Day 29, Scholar's Robe: From the personal journal of Captain Niccolo Santi

Chapter Text

Chris feels better with his Scholar’s robes on. In these past weeks’ heat, he’s been trying to go without them. It’s going badly.

Past and paranoia catch up with him, and he sits shaking. He doesn’t see me when I bring him his robe. On better days, he’s calm while I wrap it around him. He lets me rub his shoulders, kiss his hair, coax him back to me. He opens his eyes, and he sees me, and I can hold him until the tremors stop.

On worse days, he pushes me away, and all I can do is wait.

Chapter 30: Day 30, a Game: From the personal journal of Scholar Christopher Wolfe

Chapter Text

At Thomas’s insistence, we have hosted what he calls “a game night”. We have a perfectly respectable collection of games, but they all brought their own, resulting in lengthy debate over which to play.

First, Dario’s Spanish cards. Insufficient complexity for my taste, but Nic won handily. Similar to the Italian version, apparently.

Next, go. Khalila plays excellently, of course. Must refrain from wine next time we play.

Finally, a card-matching game of Jess’s invention. One wins by assembling the most amusingly insulting sentences. I rather like it, though Glain stole the victory.

A rematch is scheduled for next week.