Silence Is Deafening

As far back as any of the scholars had recorded, the Royal Library of Hercynia had always existed. There were simply no reasonable explanations as to when it was built, or by whom. Most theorised that it was built by monstrous slaves once the humans had won the war and laid claim to the fertile land. There were some however that held the belief the library came to be by the very same beings they moved to enslave.

History was a fickle thing when written by the victors.

Morrigan supposed that if the library had been here first, and the palace built around it, that would be the reason she sometimes felt as though something ancient was lurking around one of the darkened corridors. The library was so expansive that it was built up three stories from the main floor, and in the centre a great staircase descended deep into the bowels of the castle proper. There, lay the restricted section, meant only for the most raggedy of scholars. The floors above were warmly lit, well-guarded fires with reading nooks; overstuffed armchairs, and somewhat dusty couches, that were arranged around the edges of the great chambers. Rows upon rows of books filled every wall, and created long corridors of dust motes, the smell of dry ink, and dark places to hide. Scholars, in their diaphones robes and slippers made barely any noise as they scurried past, moving through the stacks like mice in a maze.

Morrigan loved the library. She loved how the scholars never looked her way, the librarians never went out of their way to accommodate her, and most of all, it was never truly silent. It was quiet yes, and you could hear the occasional cough, or sneeze, but it was silent in a way that felt more homely and comforting than her own tower room. That was truly silent. Like a tomb at midnight once the tolling bell fades away and no one is left to mourn. No, the library, with the quick shuffles of fabric, the scritch-scritch of quills, even the near silent whisper of pages being turned, this sort of silence was far more agreeable.

“Princess Morrigan, how lucky am I to have found you once again, without a chaperone, in the library.” The droll, loud, voice sounding off from behind Morrigan’s small reading nook made her hang her head, before trying to plaster a demur smile across her face.

“Why Sir Keloran, I would never dream of disobeying direct orders from Her Majesty… My chaperone has simply wandered off to find a book of their own.” Morrigan kept her voice to a mere whisper, hoping beyond hope a librarian would come and save her from the loud, boorish knight in service to her mother.

Even standing there in his armour he was loud. It clanked, rattled, and the chainmail clicked together with a little tingle of every breath the man took. He set her nerves on edge in her quiet, comforting place. The scar across his brow wrinkled as the old knight practically stomped in his steel boots to the armchair opposite her and sat down with a loud groan. Morrigan felt her eye twitch.

“Then I think it best I sit and wait with you, Your Highness, until your champion returns.” The smirk on the man’s grizzled face made her blood boil in a way she hadn’t felt since the last time the knight had barged in on her library visit. Keloran had no place in a library, especially this library, her library. With a very deep, very slow breath, Morrigan leaned back in her armchair and gave the knight a quick smile, that possibly looked more like a wince.

“You are ever so dutiful Sir Keloran.” Morrigan turned back to the ancient tome in her lap and continued her research. 

The Morrigan as we know her today was the companion to our Lord, The Horned One. As fierce as a lightning strike, and as terrible as the seas, the Morrigan was a warrior princess of great renowned, prophetic in nature and as beautiful as she was-

The sound of metal scraping on metal had her teeth grinding together like a horse at the bit. She tore her gaze away from the blurred ink to look up at the fool. Keloran paid her no mind as he continued trying to buff out a scratch on his breastplate… With the metal tips of his gauntlets. A disgruntled cough came from a few stacks away and Morrigan felt her cheeks brighten in shame. A scholar would come around the corner at any moment and frogmarch her, and the obnoxious knight from the library.

“Sir, perhaps you could take care of that outside?” She asked insistently, praying he would take the hint for once. But no, the man scoffed, either an utter imbecile, or cunning and trying to get her ejected from the library.

“I’ll have it buffed out in a moment. I don’t see an issue, Your Highness.” Morrigan let out a long breath through her nose and looked back down to her book.

It was with a deep struggle that she focused on the words once again, only to frown as she heard a whistling noise. She peeked up and realised the knight was just breathing loudly, and obviously needed to blow his nose. With every last shred of willpower Morrigan looked back down and stared at the page in front of her like her glare could set the page on fire.

The noise he made next sent a hot wave coursing through Morrigan and she snapped her book close with a thump before standing abruptly, tome clenched to her chest.

“You know, I am just going to go and fetch another pot of tea from the librarian. I shall return shortly.” It was all she could say before she marched into the stacks, rage leaking out of every pore. How insufferable could one stupid male be, to not be silent in a library?

She hurried off, listening to Keloran as he protested loudly and struggled to rise out of the low armchairs. She kept her head low as she weaved through the rows of books, hoping to get lost in one of the many dark little nooks on the outskirts of the hall.

Within minutes, she no longer heard Keloran, and sighed in relief, the corridor of books had grown murky in its darkness and Morrigan could no longer pinpoint where exactly she was when the bookcases towered so far above her. She paused her wandering, and stood still for a moment, listening for the calming noise of a quill on paper, or a page being turned.

For once she heard nothing at all. Cocking her head to the side, raising her good ear skyward, Morrigan held her breath and tried to focus on the sounds around her. The thump-thump of her heart was the first thing she could hear, but others eluded her. She hadn’t delved that deep into the library surely. Slightly unsure now, Morrigan turned and tried to make her way back out of the maze, but only a few turns back she found herself in a deeper darkness, a thicker silence. The back of her neck prickled, and she struggled to control the lick of fear that crept up her spine. Being lost in the library wasn’t the part that truly scared her, but the thought that she may be lost in the silent bowels of the library for some time before anyone would remember to look for her.

Alone, locked in another tower forgotten once again.

With a soft thump, her knees thudded to the ground, and she sat alone in the dark, surrounded by the silent voices of the tomes around her, silence more deafening than any fool knight.

** ** **

“You didn’t truly believe you could sneak off in this maze without me finding you, did you?”

The deep voice chuckled and Morrigan’s head whipped up to the tops of the bookcases. A dark figure with glowing forest green eyes crouched atop. Her heart pounded loudly as the man alighted from the bookcase and landed lightly beside her. Morrigan swallowed tightly, trying to calm her nerves but her leg jiggled tightly.

“Captain” she breathed. He crouched down beside her, eyes still glowing in the murky darkness.

“You weren’t lost were you?” She hated to admit a weakness in front of the insufferable huntsman, but it was true, and without meaning to, he had saved her. She nodded slightly and waited for the scoffing remark such as Why didn’t you call out? You understand you’re only a few minutes from where I left you correct? You’re not embarrassed for getting lost in the library are you?

He said none of that but instead stood and held out his gloved hand in silent offer. She looked up with wide eyes and gingerly took his hand. He pulled gently until she stood beside him and then without a word silently began leading her back through the library. The Captain of the Night Watch, Niamh, moved in lethal, silent grace. He wore no steel armour plates, but hardened leather, and any weapon on his person was strapped tightly down all to make him a silent killer in the night.

Within only a short time, the pair wound up back in the candlelit nook Morrigan had left in such a rush. It was empty, Sir Keloran had obviously been forced from the library. With a stiff bow, the Captain held her hand as Morrigan sat and then moved back to his original chair. Morrigan eyed him as without any small talk, he picked up the novel he’d left on the table and opened it back up, continuing his research. Morrigan, unsure of why he had no cheap shot to antagonise her with, opened up the book she had kept clenched to her chest the whole affair.

As she began to read, Morrigan, slightly distracted, realised with a certain clarity that Niamh was quiet. He breathed quietly, deeply, and turned his pages with little flutter. There was no need to talk, or pick at his nails, chew his lip, eat, or breath loudly. It was silence that was never truly silent. Comforting once again, like a warm home she had returned to after a cold night in the rain. Morrigan let a smile tug at her lips as she nestled deeper into the cushions. She could happily get used to this side of the Captain. Morrigan finally, went back to her book.