herr_bookman | OOM: Her Majesty Lemia Ausa

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OOM: Her Majesty Lemia Ausa

Autor steeled himself before opening the door--a thin wooden barrier separating him from the second largest library on the moon. He knew it was certainly not as expansive as the one back at ho--er, Milliways--but this one boasted enough books that it would theoretically take a person a thousand years to read.

It just wouldn't do to drool on Lemia Ausa's carpet, so he held his breath as he opened the door to face her and her national collection of words.

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When he does, he'll find a group of adult students setting up as they wait for Lemia to begin her lesson for the day. The former Guildmaster herself is quietly speaking with one of the students about his homework.

After a moment, she looks up and spies Autor. She doesn't say a word, simply gives him a nod of her head and a gesture with her hand.

It is a library, after all.

Autor draws a quill and his journal out of his pocket as he saunters to her side. He had the presence of mind to retrieve them from his sylladex before entering the library, so he didn't have to speak.

He flicks his gaze over the class, and then turns slightly to her. Eyes roaming over the shelves hungrily, he waits.

Lemia smiles a little as he looks to the shelves. She wonders how much work she'll be able to get out of him for the first day.

"We probably should have let you come here before starting but then I'm not sure you would have ever showed up for work," she quietly tells him.

He grins--though there might be a strange glint to his eyes if and when she looks--and whispers back. "I do not wish to lean on the generosity of my hosts, despite the temptation to dally with their toys."

Then he straightens, though his voice is as soft as ever. "What is the teaching plan for today? How may I assist?"

"Today we're writing short essays and we'll be taking advantage of your unique point of view, Autor," she answers.

The class stops moving and Lemia gestures to the young man, ready to introduce him.

"Class, this is Autor. He'll be assisting us for a while. This is his first visit to Vane and he's not terribly familiar with our culture or history.

"So today, I want everyone to write a short paper on some part of Vane. It can be anything you like: the history, the legends, the food, the clothes, what it was like before it fell, anything at all. I'm going to have Autor read these papers and see what he learns. Remember, the most important part of the written word is making your ideas understood."

Autor blinks a few times, and then raises a brow at her Majesty Ausa. She wants me to grade them? Hm!

Amused, he makes a note of the students' first assignment and his role in it. He slips the quill between the pages of his journal.

"Since I know close to nothing about the city itself, I am interested to see what your favorite parts are," he murmurs to the class. "Thank you for teaching me."

Then he looks to Lemia again.

And with that, the class gets to work.

"Not all of the classes will be like this," Lemia informs Autor. "On other days, we'll have classes that are still learning paragraph-, sentence-, and even word-structure."

But today seemed like a good introduction.

"I would hope not," he says, wrinkling his nose as he smiles. "They'd quickly grow tired of introducing the city to a non-Vanetian."

He nods, and drags a thumb over his journal unconsciously. "Is there a book on basic grammar that I could review in the interim? I suspect that our two languages are similar enough, but I'd still like to familiarize myself with irregularities and common idioms."

"Certainly. In fact, now would be a good time for you to familiarize yourself with the card catalog."

Be still his beating heart.

All right, now her assertion will be proven correct. Autor disappears into the shelves, and won't resurface for air until his services are required--and he'll be a more than bit embarrassed when someone has to tap him on the shoulder for it.

It's considerably later when Lemia finds him.

"How are you enjoying the library?"

"It's magnificent," he says quietly, recovering from his startle. He closes his tome on Lunarian agriculture and sets it down with its fellows: texts on economy, recent history, war tactics and--strangely enough--a book on romantic poetry.

"Have the students left?" he asks, standing. "Or are they waiting for their papers to be read?"

"They've left, though now I suppose you'll compare the papers to your recent readings."

He grins, a bit sheepishly. "Maybe?" he says, as they return to the desks. "Though I'll try to approach them as if I knew nothing at all. What the students choose to write in and leave out is of interest to them, and thus to me as well. In addition, I've no doubt the natives who live here can tell me more than my brief time scanning books."

That said, he lifts a page and begins to read. He nods twice at something in the piece, and withdraws his quill from his pocket.

"Be prepared just in case there's any Ausa family ass-kissing," Lemia says, voice hushed even further.

Autor has to clap a hand over his mouth not to giggle-snort. He never expected to hear that manner of expression from her. She's a ruler, of sorts, and they're in a library. Will wonders never cease.

He nods, and waves the paper around, a treatise on the historical achievements of Mia. "So I see," he whispers conspiratorially. "The pedestal market must be huge around here. However does your family balance?"

Then he cups his chin. "Well, the student's heart is in the right place. But this part of the paper is a bit lacking. They've completely left out her tendency to cluck, her most obvious trait."

"You see a Mia that others can't," the former Guildmaster says. "She can be something besides an Ausa with you."

As another paper describes, the Ausa dynasty founded the city of Vane and the Magic Guild. Mia, Lemia, and any other Ausa has centuries of history to live up to.

"Equals," he murmurs, and the idea that letting her cluck once in a while might not be a bad thing solidifies in his head. How annoying, though! I guess it can't be helped.

He regards the elder Ausa at his side briefly, a little ashamed at his embarrassment at her swearing. Mia isn't the only one left lonely by this, is she?

Turning back to the papers, he whips through them at a fast clip--and then again, and again. On the fourth time, he teases out more than just grammatical issues, but logic problems, as well. He has to restrain himself from crossing out most of the empty flattery, but he does have a good laugh at all of it.

When he finishes, he seeks out Lemia, grinning. "I've learned a great deal today about Lunar and Vane. Primarily, brown-nosing crosses any language barrier."

Lemia softly chuckles and adds, "Sounds about right. Anything else?"

Autor rattles off a list of facts which essentially confirm what he knew in the books, except for one interesting paper pointing out the various food stalls around the city.

"All but this one are fairly dry," he says, "which is fine, but she would be benefit most from instruction in sentence structure. This person is fine, this one is fine, but him... He has a basic grasp of syntax, but he really needs to go back and broaden his vocabulary."

Then he leans back and raises a brow. "All of which you know already."

Lemia rewards Autor with an approving nod.

"It looks like you're going to work out fine here. And we should probably get something to eat before you end up forgetting."

"Oh, but I don't--" he says, turning his head from the shelves to her face.

She really does look just like Mia, he thinks, and sighs. Lemia's words were true: he had forgotten about eating, and wasn't planning on it for quite some time, if at all, today.

He holds the door open for her, as resigned to letting the Ausa women cluck over him as cheerfully as he can be.

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OOM: Her Majesty Lemia Ausa

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