Title: Old Songs and Tales: Lore Master (1/6)
Series: Much that once was, is lost
Timeline: After Akallabeth, so somewhere in early season 2 of BtVS.
Summary: Giles contemplates his books.
A/N: The title was inspired from jedibuttercup's challenge, which I have only recently realized goes rather well with what I have imagined for this series.I plan to have a lot more fics in this universe, but most of them are still in the planning stages. I hope to have them up soon as these are more of a bridge to the other ones. Any reviews/comments/suggestions/constructive criticism most welcome.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places mentioned in these fics. They are the property of much richer and more imaginative people than me.
It was another quiet day at the library, a thing Giles was most grateful for. Translating these fascinating texts was not easy and the quiet, only broken by the soft clattering of Willow's keyboard nearby, helped him concentrate. And though he was loath to admit it, the thought that all of his hard work was being safely transferred to one of those infernal machines by Willow was a rather reassuring thought. A little thrill of excitement also went through him at the realization that even the beautiful pictures decorating the ancient originals could be salvaged. Perhaps he should also persuade Willow to scan in some pages with that wonderful flowing script he had encountered in that one slim volume…
Giles was not a fan of technology, but he was man enough to admit that it was useful in this case. The chances of these precious texts being damaged on the Hellmouth were far greater than he liked to contemplate and having them stored on a computer could save them…well, him - a lot of grief. This way, if anything happened to the originals, he could still continue his work and the priceless pieces of literature would not be lost. It also meant that duplicating them would be less of a hassle.
He really had been quite lucky to find these books. They were exceedingly rare and not many even knew about them, although those who did dismissed them as fictional. Giles had to concede that most of them were exceedingly fantastical, even in his line of work. Stories of dragons and elves, undying islands and a whole pantheon of gods nobody had ever heard about… I mean, really, he thought, but even the most outrageous myths and legends have a truth in them. It was curious however that the stories themselves had managed to be preserved for so long. And if he was correct in his assumptions, these were just copies of the original. In fact, they could be copies of the copies of the copies…
Giles drew himself out of his rambling musings and paused in his transcribing. He gave a small start when he noticed Xander quietly sitting across from him, absorbed in one of the books. He hadn't even noticed the boy arrive. He must have been more engrossed than he thought. Cleaning his glasses, he quietly tried to figure out what was wrong with the picture before him. Well, apart from Xander willingly picking up one of his 'dusty and smelly old books' as the boy liked to call them.
Giving a slight shrug, Giles turned back to his work. If Xander was finally showing an interest in reading something other than comic books, who was he to stop him? Suddenly, it clicked in him why it had felt so wrong that Xander was reading that particular volume. It was written in that beautiful flowing script that Giles couldn't make heads nor tails of. Xander shouldn't have even been able to read that.
"Xander, how in good heavens are you even able to read that?" Giles said, alarmed.
Xander looked up from his book.
"Huh?" was his eloquent reply.
Fin