Lost Things
Title: Lost Things
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: Not mine! The characters belong to Nolan, and I'm just playing with his toys. I'll put them back where I found them until next year. :)
Spoilers/Warnings: Written for the Ariadne/Arthur fest on Tumblr, with a presence over at LJ and also on AO3. Based on the prompt "librarian AU." I'm not sure if you meant ordinary librarians or a fusion with the Librarian franchise of movies and the TNT series, but that's what I went with. I took a few liberties with it, and I'm going to assume that the series didn't happen. Who wouldn't want to see Ariadne as The Librarian and Arthur as The Guardian? :D
Summary: "In retrospect," Ariadne told Arthur in a thoughtful tone, "I may have been mistaken."
Ariadne was on the hunt for a sword. It was a particular sword, not one that could be purchased in the dealer's room of a convention or Ren Faire, but Lævateinn, Freyr's magic sword. It could fight on its own, which was rather part of its charm, and would likely make it a good friend for Excalibur. Freyr had given the sword to his servant Skírnir in order to win Gerðr as his wife. The Eddas didn't agree on other details; did Skírnir threaten her with it, or was the sword simply his payment for visiting the Jotunn, a risky venture at that time in the history of the Aesir and Jotnar. Either way, it had been largely lost to history and Eddas, but Ariadne thought she saw a mention of it in a listing of archaeological finds in Norway.
She wasn't a fan of fencing the way her predecessor was, so Excalibur often moped around the Library, looking for some way to entice her to pick up the sport. Her last two Guardians had tried to engage with Excalibur, but they hadn't lasted very long. One decided the job was too much for him after he nearly had his head cut off by angry tribespeople in the Amazon, and the other suffered severe panic attacks after being poisoned with a neurotoxin. Ariadne talked the tribe out of their sacrifice and bargained for their lives, but that Guardian was a newlywed and wanted to spend time with his bride. She couldn't blame him, and sent him off. Ariadne got a new Guardian right away, but Hester was poisoned on their second mission together. Afterward, she kept having paralytic spells and flashbacks. Ariadne felt terrible for not getting the antidote to her in time, even though the ingredients were rare. Hester had a history of panic attacks even before she had become the Guardian, and the neurotoxin had triggered their return. Hester quit the job as Guardian to preserve her own mental health, and Ariadne had to wish her well.
"I'll just take care of myself," Ariadne had tried to tell Charlene and Judson, her two superiors at the Library. She smiled at them, sitting straight in her seat and looking for all the world like a perky grad student in her well worn brown boots, corduroys, button down shirt, vest, scarf and red jacket. "I'm going to an archaeological dig, after all. I won't need a bodyguard, just my knowledge of runes and Norse legends."
Charlene sighed, mouth pinched a little. "It's a liability if you don't have backup. There have been Librarians that took training themselves, but there is always someone with you in order to watch your back. I simply can't authorize a solo trip!"
"Judson!" Ariadne cried, looking toward the older man. He was the Head Librarian, and spent his time in the stacks and cataloguing relics. She would guess that he was far older than he let on, but wasn't rude enough to actually ask him about it. "Tell Charlene I'll be fine. You've been to plenty of dig sites, and it's not going to be a war zone!"
"No, but you're not the only one interested in this sword. There's the Brotherhood of Serpents, of course. They're continually after any artifact of power or magic they can get their hands on. The Genesis Group, the Black Brotherhood-"
Ariadne made an impatient waving gesture to cut him off. "All right, there are organizations besides the Library that would love to retrieve Lævateinn. It's not exactly an obvious mention that led me to it, and it might not even be there."
"Then you won't mind using it as a training exercise," Charlene replied, looking a little brighter than her usually stern and no nonsense self. Ariadne blinked at that, then turned when Charlene beckoned for someone behind her to come into the office. "Come in, come in, Arthur. This is Ariadne, our Librarian. I think you'll get along just fine."
"I don't need a Guardian!" Ariadne hissed at them.
"If it helps, I know seven languages, worked in the field with an archaeologist in Egypt and I'm working on a Ph.D. thesis on the preservation of steel tools?" Arthur asked coolly. He was tall, built like a runner, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was impeccably dressed in a gray suit, complete with vest and tie, the jacket draped over his arm. The satchel at his side was about as well worn as her boots, and instantly gave him a somewhat less formal appearance.
Ariadne knew better than to sulk in front of Charlene and Judson. "Yeah, I think that would help a bit," she acknowledged.
Arthur smiled at her, a winsome one with dimples. Oh. She quite possibly was going to be trouble. He was smart, capable and cute.
***
"In retrospect," Ariadne told Arthur in a thoughtful tone, "I may have been mistaken."
They were both bound with heavy rope around their wrists and ankles, lying on the floor of a tent. Their papers had been confiscated, and a mercenary affiliated loosely with the Brotherhood of Serpents was outside of the tent, menacing the poor archaeologists. They would likely be forced to hurry the digging, which could destroy other artifacts or even harm the sword itself. The mercenary didn't care about the provenance of the sword, only that it held magic and the Brotherhood would want it.
Arthur rolled his eyes at her, and began to shimmy. "I think I came to that conclusion, too."
"No, I mean, I was mistaken about the dig site. I did get a good look at the runes when he had me tossed over his shoulder, before he tossed us in here. They're from the completely wrong time period. The runes wouldn't have been carved in that manner or placed in that manner, even if you figure Lævateinn would have changed hands several times since it was first given away. Several times might be an understatement, given the age of the Eddas, but you know what I mean."
He huffed, visibly irritated with the focus Ariadne had. "Do you have any other ideas where it might be, then?" he asked, working the pen from his pocket loose. It looked like a lovely black Montblanc with gold accents, though the angle of the cap was a little off. Ariadne blinked, mouth falling open a little in surprise. "What?"
"Did you alter that Montblanc?"
Now Arthur laughed. "Because you know how to identify a particular Montblanc just on sight?"
Ariadne pressed her lips together. "The outside barrel looks like the classic Meisterstück 149 fountain pen, right down to the resin and gold, with the white star on the top. But the angle is all wrong for it, and that's been a classic design since 1924!"
"Okay, you know your pens." He got the edge of the cap out of his pocket with his fingernail, and gradually lifted it out. "But our mercenary does not. And obviously doesn't think that a pen can be a weapon."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Should I be grateful you didn't make a 'pen is mightier than the sword' joke, Arthur?"
His fingers were long and very dextrous, removing the cap without looking while his hands were behind his back. The tip of the fountain pen looked like an ordinary nib, but Arthur pressed it against the rope and began a sawing motion. Fibers started giving way immediately, letting Ariadne know that it was a far from ordinary pen. She was suitably impressed by this, but didn't say anything. The mercenary was shouting outside, and she could hear frightened graduate students trying to stay calm.
Arthur sawed his way through a loop of rope, then got his ankles free. It was easier for him to saw through her ropes as well, then he recapped the pen and put it back in his jacket pocket. "I did use a Meisterstück 149, if it makes you feel better," he told her with a smile. "It's the details of it, after all. It even writes, though obviously the nib's sharpened far more than you would expect for a fountain pen."
They snuck out of the tent and Ariadne swallowed down her irritation. She hadn't even thought of that as a possible weapon! It wasn't often that someone gave her a run for her money, and Arthur was doing admirably.
Heading away from the tent, the two of them crept closer to where the mercenary was keeping the wailing grad students hostage. Arthur looked over at the solvents on hand, then the mercenary's truck. His smile was less smug now and more decidedly wicked. Ariadne rather liked that look on him. "I have an idea for a distraction. It should let you get in there and get the students out. I might be able to subdue him, too."
"Do I want to know the details?" she asked, eyeing his pocket with the pen.
"Probably not. Can I get a kiss for luck?"
"Are you kidding?" Ariadne cried.
He sighed and looked dejected. "Oh. Well, it was worth a shot..."
Catching him off balance, Ariadne grasped his jacket and pulled him in for a quick kiss. She didn't expect to feel a crackle of static along her lips, or feel the need to find out what he tasted like, or what he would sound like in the throes of passion. Pulling away, she parted her lips and wondered what she should say in response.
But both were silent for a moment, and smiled at each other. Hers was a little shy, but his was utterly confident. "So. We're talking about this later," he said, grinning wide enough his dimples showed again.
"Is talking all you wanted to do?" she asked tartly, surprising herself. Since when did she flirt with her Guardian? Since when did she want him sticking around? Why should she want to know what color his underwear was or what he liked for breakfast?
Whoa. That thought was going very far, very fast.
That grin had a distinct sensual edge to it now. "I thought we'd start with talking. See where it goes next. You know, once the adrenaline wears off and you're pretending to glower at me. It's very cute, by the way."
"I was not pretending!"
"I know you wanted to save face at the Library, but out here, we've got to stick together, right?"
She sighed. He had a point. "Right."
"Go be the Librarian," Arthur said, nodding in the direction of the grad students. "I'll go be the diversion so you can do your thing."
Ariadne nodded, surprised but pleased he was giving her some autonomy. This was a partnership that might work out after all. And if there were unexpected side benefits, well... It certainly wasn't unheard of in the history of the Library. She waited until Arthur caused the mercenary's truck to explode. As Arthur no doubt expected, he came running, gun in hand. Ariadne took off at a sprint to help the grad students. Later, after he was taken care of, Ariadne would show Arthur what she had been talking about with the runes. Considering his own background, he could possibly help her find the lost Lævateinn.
She had to temper her manic grin of excitement as she untied the grad students in the back of the quarry. They were frightened and confused, but easily understood when she told them to call the authorities to lock up the madman that had taken them all hostage. Ariadne had no intention of sticking around long enough to explain her presence to authorities, so she worked her way into the pit itself. She could see the mercenary chasing Arthur through a warren of crates and scaffolds, which had a blind spot around one corner of the quarry. Arthur hid in it, and when the mercenary ran up, intending to shoot or hit him, Arthur spun around and started grappling with him. The gun flew over the edge of the scaffold, and when the mercenary tried to catch it, Arthur grabbed his arm and twisted it up, behind his back. Ariadne's breath caught, afraid for Arthur as they balanced precariously along the edge of the scaffold.
Her fears were warranted; as he tried to struggle out of Arthur's grip, the mercenary tilted too far over the edge. Arthur had to let go of the mercenary and grab the side of the scaffolding to maintain his own balance. That sent the mercenary careening over the side, down the equivalent of three flights of stairs.
Looking away from the spatter at the foot of the scaffolding, Ariadne looked up to see how Arthur fared. His face was pale and his breath heaved from the exertion of running and fighting, but he was safe.
Their eyes met across the distance as if he could feel her gaze. He lifted a hand slightly, lips quirking into a bit of a smile. Instead of feeling as though Arthur was a hindrance, Ariadne was glad to see him safe and sound, and to know that he would help her with whatever task she wanted to take on. His ability to be prepared for just about anything helped, too.
At least being the Librarian was never boring.
The End
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: Not mine! The characters belong to Nolan, and I'm just playing with his toys. I'll put them back where I found them until next year. :)
Spoilers/Warnings: Written for the Ariadne/Arthur fest on Tumblr, with a presence over at LJ and also on AO3. Based on the prompt "librarian AU." I'm not sure if you meant ordinary librarians or a fusion with the Librarian franchise of movies and the TNT series, but that's what I went with. I took a few liberties with it, and I'm going to assume that the series didn't happen. Who wouldn't want to see Ariadne as The Librarian and Arthur as The Guardian? :D
Summary: "In retrospect," Ariadne told Arthur in a thoughtful tone, "I may have been mistaken."
Ariadne was on the hunt for a sword. It was a particular sword, not one that could be purchased in the dealer's room of a convention or Ren Faire, but Lævateinn, Freyr's magic sword. It could fight on its own, which was rather part of its charm, and would likely make it a good friend for Excalibur. Freyr had given the sword to his servant Skírnir in order to win Gerðr as his wife. The Eddas didn't agree on other details; did Skírnir threaten her with it, or was the sword simply his payment for visiting the Jotunn, a risky venture at that time in the history of the Aesir and Jotnar. Either way, it had been largely lost to history and Eddas, but Ariadne thought she saw a mention of it in a listing of archaeological finds in Norway.
She wasn't a fan of fencing the way her predecessor was, so Excalibur often moped around the Library, looking for some way to entice her to pick up the sport. Her last two Guardians had tried to engage with Excalibur, but they hadn't lasted very long. One decided the job was too much for him after he nearly had his head cut off by angry tribespeople in the Amazon, and the other suffered severe panic attacks after being poisoned with a neurotoxin. Ariadne talked the tribe out of their sacrifice and bargained for their lives, but that Guardian was a newlywed and wanted to spend time with his bride. She couldn't blame him, and sent him off. Ariadne got a new Guardian right away, but Hester was poisoned on their second mission together. Afterward, she kept having paralytic spells and flashbacks. Ariadne felt terrible for not getting the antidote to her in time, even though the ingredients were rare. Hester had a history of panic attacks even before she had become the Guardian, and the neurotoxin had triggered their return. Hester quit the job as Guardian to preserve her own mental health, and Ariadne had to wish her well.
"I'll just take care of myself," Ariadne had tried to tell Charlene and Judson, her two superiors at the Library. She smiled at them, sitting straight in her seat and looking for all the world like a perky grad student in her well worn brown boots, corduroys, button down shirt, vest, scarf and red jacket. "I'm going to an archaeological dig, after all. I won't need a bodyguard, just my knowledge of runes and Norse legends."
Charlene sighed, mouth pinched a little. "It's a liability if you don't have backup. There have been Librarians that took training themselves, but there is always someone with you in order to watch your back. I simply can't authorize a solo trip!"
"Judson!" Ariadne cried, looking toward the older man. He was the Head Librarian, and spent his time in the stacks and cataloguing relics. She would guess that he was far older than he let on, but wasn't rude enough to actually ask him about it. "Tell Charlene I'll be fine. You've been to plenty of dig sites, and it's not going to be a war zone!"
"No, but you're not the only one interested in this sword. There's the Brotherhood of Serpents, of course. They're continually after any artifact of power or magic they can get their hands on. The Genesis Group, the Black Brotherhood-"
Ariadne made an impatient waving gesture to cut him off. "All right, there are organizations besides the Library that would love to retrieve Lævateinn. It's not exactly an obvious mention that led me to it, and it might not even be there."
"Then you won't mind using it as a training exercise," Charlene replied, looking a little brighter than her usually stern and no nonsense self. Ariadne blinked at that, then turned when Charlene beckoned for someone behind her to come into the office. "Come in, come in, Arthur. This is Ariadne, our Librarian. I think you'll get along just fine."
"I don't need a Guardian!" Ariadne hissed at them.
"If it helps, I know seven languages, worked in the field with an archaeologist in Egypt and I'm working on a Ph.D. thesis on the preservation of steel tools?" Arthur asked coolly. He was tall, built like a runner, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was impeccably dressed in a gray suit, complete with vest and tie, the jacket draped over his arm. The satchel at his side was about as well worn as her boots, and instantly gave him a somewhat less formal appearance.
Ariadne knew better than to sulk in front of Charlene and Judson. "Yeah, I think that would help a bit," she acknowledged.
Arthur smiled at her, a winsome one with dimples. Oh. She quite possibly was going to be trouble. He was smart, capable and cute.
***
"In retrospect," Ariadne told Arthur in a thoughtful tone, "I may have been mistaken."
They were both bound with heavy rope around their wrists and ankles, lying on the floor of a tent. Their papers had been confiscated, and a mercenary affiliated loosely with the Brotherhood of Serpents was outside of the tent, menacing the poor archaeologists. They would likely be forced to hurry the digging, which could destroy other artifacts or even harm the sword itself. The mercenary didn't care about the provenance of the sword, only that it held magic and the Brotherhood would want it.
Arthur rolled his eyes at her, and began to shimmy. "I think I came to that conclusion, too."
"No, I mean, I was mistaken about the dig site. I did get a good look at the runes when he had me tossed over his shoulder, before he tossed us in here. They're from the completely wrong time period. The runes wouldn't have been carved in that manner or placed in that manner, even if you figure Lævateinn would have changed hands several times since it was first given away. Several times might be an understatement, given the age of the Eddas, but you know what I mean."
He huffed, visibly irritated with the focus Ariadne had. "Do you have any other ideas where it might be, then?" he asked, working the pen from his pocket loose. It looked like a lovely black Montblanc with gold accents, though the angle of the cap was a little off. Ariadne blinked, mouth falling open a little in surprise. "What?"
"Did you alter that Montblanc?"
Now Arthur laughed. "Because you know how to identify a particular Montblanc just on sight?"
Ariadne pressed her lips together. "The outside barrel looks like the classic Meisterstück 149 fountain pen, right down to the resin and gold, with the white star on the top. But the angle is all wrong for it, and that's been a classic design since 1924!"
"Okay, you know your pens." He got the edge of the cap out of his pocket with his fingernail, and gradually lifted it out. "But our mercenary does not. And obviously doesn't think that a pen can be a weapon."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Should I be grateful you didn't make a 'pen is mightier than the sword' joke, Arthur?"
His fingers were long and very dextrous, removing the cap without looking while his hands were behind his back. The tip of the fountain pen looked like an ordinary nib, but Arthur pressed it against the rope and began a sawing motion. Fibers started giving way immediately, letting Ariadne know that it was a far from ordinary pen. She was suitably impressed by this, but didn't say anything. The mercenary was shouting outside, and she could hear frightened graduate students trying to stay calm.
Arthur sawed his way through a loop of rope, then got his ankles free. It was easier for him to saw through her ropes as well, then he recapped the pen and put it back in his jacket pocket. "I did use a Meisterstück 149, if it makes you feel better," he told her with a smile. "It's the details of it, after all. It even writes, though obviously the nib's sharpened far more than you would expect for a fountain pen."
They snuck out of the tent and Ariadne swallowed down her irritation. She hadn't even thought of that as a possible weapon! It wasn't often that someone gave her a run for her money, and Arthur was doing admirably.
Heading away from the tent, the two of them crept closer to where the mercenary was keeping the wailing grad students hostage. Arthur looked over at the solvents on hand, then the mercenary's truck. His smile was less smug now and more decidedly wicked. Ariadne rather liked that look on him. "I have an idea for a distraction. It should let you get in there and get the students out. I might be able to subdue him, too."
"Do I want to know the details?" she asked, eyeing his pocket with the pen.
"Probably not. Can I get a kiss for luck?"
"Are you kidding?" Ariadne cried.
He sighed and looked dejected. "Oh. Well, it was worth a shot..."
Catching him off balance, Ariadne grasped his jacket and pulled him in for a quick kiss. She didn't expect to feel a crackle of static along her lips, or feel the need to find out what he tasted like, or what he would sound like in the throes of passion. Pulling away, she parted her lips and wondered what she should say in response.
But both were silent for a moment, and smiled at each other. Hers was a little shy, but his was utterly confident. "So. We're talking about this later," he said, grinning wide enough his dimples showed again.
"Is talking all you wanted to do?" she asked tartly, surprising herself. Since when did she flirt with her Guardian? Since when did she want him sticking around? Why should she want to know what color his underwear was or what he liked for breakfast?
Whoa. That thought was going very far, very fast.
That grin had a distinct sensual edge to it now. "I thought we'd start with talking. See where it goes next. You know, once the adrenaline wears off and you're pretending to glower at me. It's very cute, by the way."
"I was not pretending!"
"I know you wanted to save face at the Library, but out here, we've got to stick together, right?"
She sighed. He had a point. "Right."
"Go be the Librarian," Arthur said, nodding in the direction of the grad students. "I'll go be the diversion so you can do your thing."
Ariadne nodded, surprised but pleased he was giving her some autonomy. This was a partnership that might work out after all. And if there were unexpected side benefits, well... It certainly wasn't unheard of in the history of the Library. She waited until Arthur caused the mercenary's truck to explode. As Arthur no doubt expected, he came running, gun in hand. Ariadne took off at a sprint to help the grad students. Later, after he was taken care of, Ariadne would show Arthur what she had been talking about with the runes. Considering his own background, he could possibly help her find the lost Lævateinn.
She had to temper her manic grin of excitement as she untied the grad students in the back of the quarry. They were frightened and confused, but easily understood when she told them to call the authorities to lock up the madman that had taken them all hostage. Ariadne had no intention of sticking around long enough to explain her presence to authorities, so she worked her way into the pit itself. She could see the mercenary chasing Arthur through a warren of crates and scaffolds, which had a blind spot around one corner of the quarry. Arthur hid in it, and when the mercenary ran up, intending to shoot or hit him, Arthur spun around and started grappling with him. The gun flew over the edge of the scaffold, and when the mercenary tried to catch it, Arthur grabbed his arm and twisted it up, behind his back. Ariadne's breath caught, afraid for Arthur as they balanced precariously along the edge of the scaffold.
Her fears were warranted; as he tried to struggle out of Arthur's grip, the mercenary tilted too far over the edge. Arthur had to let go of the mercenary and grab the side of the scaffolding to maintain his own balance. That sent the mercenary careening over the side, down the equivalent of three flights of stairs.
Looking away from the spatter at the foot of the scaffolding, Ariadne looked up to see how Arthur fared. His face was pale and his breath heaved from the exertion of running and fighting, but he was safe.
Their eyes met across the distance as if he could feel her gaze. He lifted a hand slightly, lips quirking into a bit of a smile. Instead of feeling as though Arthur was a hindrance, Ariadne was glad to see him safe and sound, and to know that he would help her with whatever task she wanted to take on. His ability to be prepared for just about anything helped, too.
At least being the Librarian was never boring.
The End