“Sikker på at jeg ikke kan friste med en kanelbolle og litt te?” They stopped outside the bakery, the delicious scent of freshly baked goods wafting through the propped open door. Einar was clutching his satchel, blinking at Edda through his thick glasses. They made his eyes comically large but somehow it just made him look more like himself. It was in moments like this that Edda doubted Einar had ever set a foot on a mountain, let alone survived outdoors for his first twelve years. Einar shuffled his feet towards the door, eager for his cinnamon fix. Then there was a twinkle in those saucer eyes that Edda did not like one bit. It was how he looked when he cracked a writer’s block or had an idea for a new book. “Eller skal du møte Linnea?”
Edda swallowed thickly at the sound of their friends name, but tried their best not to make it obvious. Their voice was a bit strained as they answered. “Ja, på biblioteket. Hun har funnet en bok jeg har sett etter.” Einar didn’t say anything, just lifted a knowing bush of a brow and hummed. With a small wave, he disappeared into the warmth of the bakery with a flurry of hair only a quarter-troll could possess.
It was a recent discovery, these feelings. They blamed Einar for it entirely. One evening they were in the kitchen, cleaning up after eating, and he pointed out how Edda’s voice changed when they talked about Quinn (who he refused to call anything but Linnea). Edda had brushed it off with a not so delicate snort but it dislodged something deep in their mind. Later that night she laid awake below the charmed night sky ceiling of her bedroom, gliding a pointed finger from Volans to Chamaeleon, trying to feel for the butterflies when thinking of Quinn. There had always been a soft flutter, how could it not? Quinn was beautiful. She was incredibly smart. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. How she was open to almost anything Edda—
Edda had stopped themselves then.
The walk to the British Library went by faster than usual. It was Einar’s specialty, even without the cinnamon bun to distract you. He could calm Edda’s mind in two words, but he could also cause the worst storm within it. Edda quickly made their way through the main doors of the Library, trying to blend into the crowd of muggles bustling about. Even after nearly six years Edda had not figured out how to look less.., wild. Einar encouraged her to drop the wildling marks when out among muggles but it felt wrong. She didn’t like being seen by so many eyes without them.
Taking the stairs two at a time Edda soon made it to the third floor. The Maps Reading Room was near empty, as usual, just a handful people spread across the room. Edda walked slower in here. There was so much knowledge collected in one place and it was all done without magic. Trying their best not to get distracted on the way, Edda found the little corner nook that had become so incredibly familiar. The small framed map still hung on the wall where it always was. Hidden from those who didn’t go look for it, it felt like a small treasure. There were many grand maps displayed on this floor. There were older ones, more delicate ones, even more beautiful ones, but this might be Edda’s favorite.
As soon as they came close enough the door appeared in the maps stead. With the library card in hand, Edda opened the beautifully painted door and stepped inside, feeling the rush of magic all around. The halls of the Library seemed to unfurl in front of them as they walked forward into it. The first time Einar had taken them here Edda had said it felt like stepping into the earth and stars at the same time. It still felt like that.
Nodding to the clerk seated at the entrance Edda continued into the grand Library, eager to see Quinn and what she might have found. “Q?” Edda whispered, rounding the corner towards where they usually met up. “You here?”
izzy806
ellievsbear
dailybridgerton
prguitarman
pixelskylines
vaporwave
