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enigmawriteswhump · 1 month

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The Last Librarian

Part 3

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Tw: swearing, blood, hypnosis, drugging

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Rain was a dichotomy for me. I loved using an umbrella, swirling it around in my hands as I walked. But I also disliked the soggy, grey clouds hanging above me. The warm-weather part of me wanting the sun to paint my skin with its tan.

Still, my day is like the rest, until my shift is cancelled at the library. I feel bereft.

It's my day. Lucas is going to miss me. I can't let him down. Not when I want to hear his thoughts of Dragon's Son. I just know he's loved it.

Sarah said that there was another venue who wanted to rent out the library today - and until next Wednesday too. But I am rather inclined to go anyway.

The library was a sore thumb of the shopping district. One of those creaky, stately houses, with an outside furnished like an old mansion. One of those buildings the government liked to take up and reuse as a public building.

Perhaps it was why I was so drawn to it as a child. That I would become a Lucy Pevensey and discover a magic in the building that would save me from the tragedy of normalcy. It was a multi-storey building, but the upper levels had been off limits to me when I signed up as a volunteer. I'd wanted to search curiously... But after looking at the amount of dust on the stairs, I was inclined to doubt the stability of them.

Still, looking at the building, there was a distinct lack of life there. The window's curtains were drawn, and the whole lane felt eerily secluded. But the weird thing was, the car park was almost full at the back. You had to walk past it to get to the library and it backed onto the park I played at as a kid. Well, until vandalism hit it like a battering ram.

But still, there were no lights on. I didn't like it. And while I could see a "Library closed sign", I felt indignant. Sarah could have told me last week, but no.

I'd promised Lucas.

He was going to be here any minute. I wasn't going to disappoint him. Not from some silly out-of-the-blue event that she couldn't care to tell me about sooner.

Darkness was coming rapidly, the days of summer far behind us. Suddenly, I see a light turn on dimly inside. On the second floor. And then a few more on the first. Perfect.

I purse my lips. If the company wasn't using the entire first floor, then I could go in and grab Lucas a new book. It wouldn't hurt if I asked, right?

It was probably one of those stuffy meetings, with men in suits. One man pointing at boards with pie charts and graphs on.

I sigh, and tug on the door practically twice my size, stepping into the foyer.

I blink. My breath freezes.

A hundred eyes turn to look at me.

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I don't think what aptly described my reaction could have been shock. It boarded on both hysteria, and ice-cold fear.

There was a lot of people here.

And they'd torn down my bookshelves. My displays are gone. The old ceiling fan is torn away, replaced by a stupidly guady chandelier. There's a few men in work shirts hanging up something glowy on the walls. Fairy lights? A few people arranging tables. The carpet has been newly replaced. The gold inlays look so posh I feel bad just standing on it.

And there, in the middle of this whirlwind chaos, is - is - a creature pressing something against someone's neck. But they're not lips, no, they look like fangs. That couldn't be possible, because this isn't a movie set.

Vampires don't exist.

But the blissful expression on the person having those wicked-looking teeth in their neck, was far more petrifying.

They weren't trying to leave. They weren't screaming. If anything, they were practically falling into the - the Vampire's grasp.

As if the casual way of supping someone's lifeblood was a normal occurrence. My mouth is gaping. The lanyard holding my electronic pass flutters to the floor. My heart is stuttering. Faltering. I feel sweat trickle past my fingers.

My eyes are frantic, darting to the poster against the wall of the entry way.

"Human, Fae and all other kin. Auction Wednesday 31st."

"Best prices, best quality, best ethics."

"Finest purebreds seen in over a century."

I'm backing away, the book and Lucas forgotten. The eyes that followed me are numb, unaware, apart from a few narrowed pairs. They stand still. I edge another step backwards.

"Sarah didn't say anything about one of hers coming in." a monotone voice made me gasp as they stepped forward, a clipboard in hand.

"You think she sent us a snack?" a grinning woman slithered beside the man, who also seemed far more awake than the others. They had resumed doing their tasks. As if the woman vampire who was leisurely wiping their mouth with blood - red dyed treacle, right? - was completely sane. As if we all hadn't just witnessed what was essentially cannibalism. Right?

"Doesn't seem to be on the list. But," the man sniffed the air, a small sigh breezing past his lips, "I'm surprised this one isn't, considering the quality."

Inanely, my body feels wrong, as if I'm waiting for someone to tell me the truth. That in the corners were cameras. That Sarah had just pranked me big time, and this was just one of those insipid reality TV shows she watched.

The woman sniffed too, in a way that reminded me of a big cat smelling a small, harmless cub.

"Oh, I see what you mean. She does smell good. Might be even a double AA, if we're lucky. What do you reckon? Sarah might be upset we've stolen her volunteer."

The man looks at me again, eyes drawing across my body in a particularly invasive way, his gaze which focuses on my neck in particular. I flinch backwards.

"Too valuable. Don't know how she's hidden from the scouters though."

"Does it matter?" the woman is slinking forward, and suddenly I realise that this is my time to run.

Run.

"Oh, darling, you don't need to run now. You're going to start feeling sleepy, and docile now. Will you tell me your name?" her voice was soft, syrupy, and there's a flutter. She really was very beautiful, and I could feel myself leaning towards that sotto voice.

Run. Lucas.

I blink, my sense of self returning, and I'm chucking my bag at the woman. There's a growl as she fumbles with it, but it leaves me enough time to skid through the door.

I'm unsure of the sight of the dozen cars on one side, and I freak out looking at the way to the park. No one is there. But here, to my left, there's dozen wheels, a dozen places to hide in the mechanical forest. If someone was there, inside their cars, I could reach them. They could protect me.

I sprint forward, panting by the time I roll past two rows of cars, hunching over to conceal myself.

Where was Theo's big, hulking Bentley when you needed it?

My breath jars as I duck between two cars, rolling under a rangerover. Gravel bites into my bare shoulders and I wince. I bite my cheek, withholding my girlish squeal. I hope that in the darkness, the woman can't find me.

But her calling sounds much similar to a lioness on the hunt.

"Come on out, dear, we won't hurt you. I promise." but there's a feral edge to her voice and I quiver, huddling into the ground.

"Damn it. I do not have the patience to chase after you." her voice is sharp as firecrackers, and I can't tell how far away she is from me. I can only hear silence. She's taken off her heels. My stomach drops.

"I don't have the patience or time of a normal Scout, you know, human. I don't do the whole hypnotism crap. I organise. I plan. I create visions for others. But I don't enthrall."

I would have peaked from under the car had I any strength of will, to gauge how many cars more I needed to roll over to. To peer into a window that wasn't empty of humanity.

But then I do hear steps, those almost quiet scuffles getting fainter and fainter. My body is in action, rolling away. Crawling in a mimicry of a child, using my hands and knees to the car in front. This time it's a big Toyota, and I pray that if I shuffle under, I could see something on the ground I could use as a weapon.

So far, my fingers only scrabbled on a tin can's tab and I wrap my fingers around it. The cool metal presses against my skin, and I squeeze it.

I screech as I'm yanked back by my hair, nerves on fire from such rough treatment as I'm pulled into the road. Racking waves of agony makes me moan as I see the fire-haired female grin wickedly.

"Gotcha. Don't try to run, kid. It's over."

A flurry of indignation makes me snarl, and the tab in my hand strikes against the woman's face, catching the edge of her chin. Blood drips down, as her lips peel back in a chilling sneer.

"Fuck you!" I growl, and twist out of her grip, even as I can feel my roots tearing in protest. My eyes sting as I stagger away, trying to pick up speed. Trying not to feel deadly glad I dared to mark her. That mark was for the human she was feeding on. And for the many more she'd take from.

I'm about to make it to the road leading into the shops before I feel a sting against the back of thigh. Dragging my eyes down, I see a sort of dart piercing through my trouser leg.

Shit.

With a second of hesitation, I yank away the dart, gasping as it slides from my throbbing flesh. I could feel a trickle of blood warming the side of my fingers. I feel dizzy just smelling my blood.

The needle was as big as half of my thumb, and I throw it away in disgust. Bastards.

I look up and that man was there, his fingers curled around a nasty barreled gun.

I freeze.

"Stay right there."

My heart stutters again, and my wheezes fill the air. Asthma had never troubled me much since I was a child, something I thought was almost dormant.

But I'm wheezing now, the chill of the air curling against my lungs.

"Now, now..." the man's words seemed kinder, that monotone voice disappearing, "You're safe now. We won't hurt you." he steps forward, and he drops his gun.

I stay still, searching for the woman. She was the one who'd just dragged me from under the car. But I can't see her. Where was she?

"I - I -" I'm not ready for the tears creeping into my words, "Please don't -"

"Shhh, just listen to my voice. Look here, Dahila. Focus. Look at my fingers. Look at them. You're feeling tired, sleepy. Look at me. Look, Dahlia. You want to listen to me, Dahlia." there's a finger stroking my wrist, light circles, and a dizzying sensation. I'm able to look up at him, meeting soothing green eyes. Eyes of a forest. He's suddenly far too near, a musky scent invading my senses.

"There we are. Yes, look at me. You're doing so well. Focused on me now," I keep my eyes locked away, trying to force myself to focus on the street lamp.

"Oh, you can look away. Look away if it's more comfortable." but a glint brings me to his fingers, weaving in the air like shadow puppets to a child.

I gasp uneasily. I had loved playing shadow puppets.

Those patterns begin again, in, out, in, out, duck, weave... And the voice warms my jack-knifing heart.

"Hmmm yes, here we are, look at my fingers there, look at the pretty shapes."

I feel myself almost swaying to his rhythm, almost instinctively to match him. Why were we swaying? What did I need to remember? But I couldn't. What was it. But those shadows dancing before my vision were waves of light and dark. Charcoal against summer. Waves lapping from sea foam. A feeling of that easy compliance, the one mum used to practice on me. His welcoming smell. Colonge.

"So you are a well behaved one, aren't you? You like being called sweet, docile, don't you Dahlia."

I almost sway at his warmth, curling into his dulcet strokes.

"Oh Dahlia, you are nothing but calm. Wanting to look at me. You're wanting to sleep. To listen. Watch me, listen to me. Calm now." I'm closer to him now, cotton brushing my chin, fingers briefly brushing my cheek.

"That's it, keep listening now. You're so very calm, aren't you?" his fingers are flickering across my vision, so quickly, so easily calming, leaving sensation. A pulsating need to follow, focusing. Focus. I wasn't missing something. I'm calm, a good girl.

But as I watch him, those pretty fingers, that soft lulling stroke, that same stroke down my hand. I fall into the sensation, his kind touch soothing in a peace I hadn't felt until I was so young. His voice creeping, seeking refuge in my body. But that wasn't right. I was needing to run... But what from? This man was so lovely. Smelled so nice. So calming. It was nice, this feeling of weight lifting. That weight that was always there shifting. Lifting.

" That's it, yes... Keep listening to me, that is it. Good girl, Dahlia. So calm, so quiet, such a good little one, yes. Yes, my little one. Calm now, my sweet." words are blurring, and I'm floundering under his calmness. He was so soothing. So kind.

No worries now, no times or worries or places to be. Nothing more. This moment now, where I existed. Boat upon the waves. His lulling voice. There's nothing else.

Such light movements on my wrist has wound to my face, and I feel a tender stroke against my cheek. A small hum. But that wasn't right. I couldn't be enjoying the way his fingers worked their way into my hair, that lazy hum he seemed to be emitting mimicking mine. But it felt so nice. Just to be touched so gently. To have fingers fondly trickle through my hair.

"Oh darling," he breathed, a catch in his voice, "There now... There now, such a good little one. Following my voice, eyes on me. So sleepy, so calm, needing to listen to me. Listen to me, yes, Dahlia. Close your eyes, give me everything, yes. Good now, rest. Rest now, little one. You are safe, so safe." I'm leaning into him, and I feel my world sway as I float. I'm floating, floating so serenely I can't remember the last time the lights had ever flown over my head. A still, moving chest against my cheek.

Lights look so pretty as they hang above me. Fireflies between closed eyes.

"That's a good little one, close your eyes now, rest. Focus just on me now." shifting closer, loosing my weight, leaning, "Oh, no no, you are calm, so calm. You want to sleep, you want to obey, my little one. It gives you pleasure when you obey, so close your eyes little Dahlia, close them. And sleep. Sleep. Shhh. Focus now, focus... "

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Welp, that took a bit longer to write! But I hope you enjoyed!

[Go to @oliversrarebooks for the source of this inspiration!]

Let me know if you want to be on a taglist for this! 😊

#the last librarian #Enigma writes #whump #Vampire whump #Human whumpee #my writing #Fantasy whump

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henryfitzempress · 2 years

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Probably January 1157, we are told Henry II stayed in Normandy whereas the French king “Louis seems to have held a Court at Orleans, whereat he publicly recognized the right of Henry II., as Comte of Anjou and Seneschal of France, to custody of the Abbey of St. Julian at Tours. Among the witnesses of Louis's declaration were Joscius, Archbishop of Tours (who appears to have contested the matter previously) ; Philip, brother of the French King ; William fitzHamo ; Robert de Novo Burgo; and Hugh de Cleeriis.” Interesting to note the opposition to Louis VII’s policies in regard to Henry II attributed to a man of the French Church.

It also states that in february the Queen [Aliénora] and her children left Normandy and land in Southampton before heading to hold court in London.

The source goes on in recording the charters the king confirmed or passed on to abbeys, extending the royal privilege to some, acknowledging the choice of abbotts as well as other part of clergy by the king. This shows how kingship interfered in the spheres of religiosity.

Concerning the month of April, we are told that two noblemen surrender their castles to royal authority. These noblemen are named Roger Bigot, Earl of Norfolk and William, Earl of Warenne. It is not explained why they did so. I confess I have thought about something close to rebellion, but maybe there’s another cause which I for now don’t see.

It reads:

“The King is next heard of at Richard de Lucy's Castle of Ongar in Essex. It was probably about this time that William, Earl of Warren and Moretain, surrendered the Castles of Norwich and Pevensey to the King, and that Hugh Bigot, Earl of Norfolk, surrendered his Castles.”

The source also adds something interesting that cannot go unnoticed. The author previously recorded Henry II’s coronation at Westminster on 8 December 1154. However, they also put the date on 19 May 1157 the date to another coronation. It reads:

“The King was crowned at Bury St. Edmunds, Archbishop Theobald, Hillary, Bp of Chichester, etc. being present. Hence at Michaelmas, 1157, the Fermor of Winchester charges — Pro portandis coronis Regis ad Sanctum Edmundum.”

Between the days of 22 May and 28 May, Henry II is found holding court at Colchester, located in Essex. The author tells us that the court was attended by a massive presence of clergy as we see below:

“His Court was attended by Theobald, Abp of Canterbury ; Roger, Abp of York ; Richard, Bp of London ; Robert, Bp of Lincoln ; Robert, Bp of Exeter ; Silvester, Abbot of St. Augustine's (Canterbury) ; Geoffrey, Abbot of Hulm; Thomas (a Becket), the King's Chancellor; Robert, Earl of Leicester ; Patric, Earl of Salisbury ; Henry de Essex, Constable; Richard de Luci ; Reginald de Warren; Guarin fitz Gerold; Hillary, Bp of Chichester; Walter de Luci”

They also extend in recording the writs and charters attributed to the king’s authority before the clergy’s presence about religious matters. Interesting to see how intricated their relationship was, and how monarchy was, back then, under the tentacles of the church’s power.

Source: “ Court, Household and Itinerary of K. Henry II”

#Henry II of England #King Henry II #Henry Curtmantle #Henry FitzEmpress #primary sources #personal notes #House of Anjou #Plantagenet #Plantagenet dynasty #Angevin Emperor #Thomas Beckett

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