The Dark Crystal: reader insert ficlets

Brea & the Library // fluff

The library was silent, and comfortably so. A surprisingly warm compound that were a natural mess of piled scrolls, books, both ancient and new alike, most of which a long-term result of the youngest Vapran princess studying in different locations around the library's halls. A mess, but a mess Brea knew like the back of her hand, and a mess you were slowly getting to learn as you spent more and more time amongst the peaceable companionship of the princess and the ancient words that stay.

Your gaze had been trailing the delicate, hand-inked lines of pages before your mind begin to wander: nothing worrying, moreso something to be proud of. At least, any other gelfling would agree as such. Most gelfling don't read or write — some don't have reason, and others, well, simply can't. So the talents of being such a talented reader in itself was something to be very thankful for. You think you're even overly appreciative of your own skill. But to be sat in amongst the high ceilings and thick shelves of paper dating back to even the ages of old, reciting songs and stories of fiction and truth, and all the more to fuel your endless curiosity? It was humbling, to say the least.

And even more so to be spending this time with the youngest of the Vapra Maudren.

Truth were, Brea and yourself seemed to click right away. You'd both had an unchallenged spirit of inquiry, insatiable curiosity, a love for learning. It didn't take long for her to personally invite you into the company of the library. Silly, at first. You'd never for the life of you thought that you'd have the chance to step foot in the great library of the mountain city as a simple, but no less meek,(GELFLING CLAN). And even less so by request of Brea. Though it were by no means unwelcome.

Your eyes lift from the book on your knees and over to the silverling herself. As she usually were, she stands at her pedestal with a focus that's entirely unmatched, transcribing words she saw fit from a hardback about dendrology beside some leaves and storks she'd earlier pressed and stuck into her journal.

You catch yourself staring a little longer than you intended — what was she writing? How did her words flow so well, and did she know how cute she looked under the natural light that cascaded from the the heights and windows and weaves amongst the spiralling staircase to the roofs? A sigh pressed from your nostrils, a smile creeping across your features and feeling your ears flatten in a fleeting stun of appreciation for the princess. In looks, mind, humour and kindliness, she was nothing short of flawless. The poster-perfect image of an treasure, a dear and a darling.

The sound of her scribbling comes to an abrupt halt, and her attention falters. Feeling a pair of eyes lingering on the side of her face.

She smiles, without looking up from her work, "is something the matter?"

The question makes your daze blunder, and you shake your head. "Not at all."

"What are you reading?" Her questioning as prominent as ever as she finally raises her attention and turns to you. With ink on her cheek, no less.

You blink. Having completely slipped your mind, your thumb marks your page and you check the the cover, "Aithra's Blooms and their Poetry," you return her friendly grin, "flowers and their meanings."

Brea's brow darts up her forehead and her lips briefly form the perfect little 'o', "I've read that!"

You chuckle to yourself. That comes as no surprise, you think to yourself and watch the princess step down from her study with an eager bounce. She took no hesitance in sitting down snugly beside you, pulling her knees to her chest, back to a mound of books, and an expression akin to bewildered. Her index finger pointed to an illustration of a small-headed flower with curling leaves on your page.

"Those, I've never seen here. Their blooms haven't the chance against our mountain winds and snowfall. They're so vibrant in colour... better to be found near the woods, amongst the greens of the Stonewood or Spriton."

"It says here they only bloom in the spring ninet," you lift your eyes from a short blurb of text and back to Brea.

"So soon! Perhaps I'd be lucky enough to see them if I convince my mother to let me attend a meeting."

You nod, convinced of her words. She'd always had a solution to most things, it seemed, but you hate to admit that even her smartest or most reasonable of plans don't often go her way. Brea's finger shifts.

"These, blizzard brambles, I see a lot of these on the garden trails closer to the outskirts of the city," she mused and you blinked for her to continue, "stark white and hard to see after heavy snowfall, but I know the chefs in the citadel use them to decorate meals sometimes."

To decorate meals? The thought only made you hungry, but you couldn't help but question why something so rough would be used on a dish.

"Must be an awful problem if you accidentally ate it," your comment earned a short-lived giggle from Brea.

"I know... The maudras once attended the citadel for a meal with my mother, and she told me Maudra Seethi had no idea! She ate the thing hole, All Maudra Mayrin said, didn't flinch a muscle!"

Your lips parted with a pinch of shock. She ate a thistle? Chewed on it and all. "Makes me wonder what the Dousan serve for guests."

Brea nodded in agreement, "it'd be so different to our food, I bet."

Speaking in terms of the Vapran cuisine, you knew she meant — and the library fell once again into a familiar but friendly silence. A pondering one. Brea contemplated what the Dousan clan did eat, all the while you were curious as to whether Brea had ever had any food other than that of Vapran chefs. You doubted it. She mentioned before that she wasn't taken to visit other clans on the rare occasion they requested the All Maudren's audience — it were usually Mayrin and Seladon who would be escorted if the Maudra's didn't gather to the citadel personally. On the off chance it wasn't Seladon, it was the warrior princess Tavra glued to her mother's hip for the visitations — and by one part, Brea was thankful she didn't have to commit herself to the formalities of visits and trades. But on the other hand, as much as she loved her clan, she knew there was so much more out there to learn. And there wasn't any doing that without at least first setting foot outside Har'ar's borders.

"Have you ever had a dish of (GELFLING CLAN)'s?"

She shakes her head, her braids following with a gentle delay, "never."

"I'll bring you some things, on my next visit." A promise.

Her back straightened and her legs stretched outwards. The flats of her palms pressing to the floor at her ground, "you will?"

Ah, you felt your cheeks rush a subdued pink, unable to stop yourself smiling from the young princess's display of excitement.

"Of course I will. I'll see to bringing you some of our local fauna, too, if I have the room."

Brea's smile widened, from between curve of her lips a giggle fills the air with a sweet electric, and her ears perk forward with a newfound glee. Without a moments hesitance, she launches forward from her place on the floor and wrap around your shoulders, cheek-to-cheek with the silverling, in an embrace that took you by surprise, and was gone as quickly as it arrived.

"Oh, thank you!" Brea's amber eyes sparkle with a thankful gleam.

You felt blood rush to your features, no doubt painting your expression a bright and prominent pink as a result of the hug, the thanks, and the lingering warmth of her cheek on yours. Your heart begins pounding in your chest as she eyes them. How embarrassing!

You said nothing. But her giggles didn't falter. After a few short seconds of filling the compound with her amusement, Brea takes the hem of her overskirt and wipes it across the side of your face,

"You have ink on your cheek."