Inkblot

Chapter One: The Book-Keeper

The keeper lived in the stacks, they said. He consumed books when his hunger became too much; drinking of their ink and eating their pages. But when he was ravenous, and he found a small child lost in his library, his hunger for books would turn to them. He left no meat on the bones, and crunched them in his large jaws, sucking out the marrow. The keeper was a great being, tall and slender with wild gray hair and steely eyes. His long fingers could pluck a book from a shelf that was worlds above his head, and bring it to his beaked nose without dropping it to the floor. There, he could study it from behind thick spectacles, deem it worthy of his collection, and restore it to its place. If the cover was damaged, or the words smeared, it was taken to be fixed. The keeper did this day in and day out, silent as a grave and twice as chilling, they said.

Children would listen with wide eyes to their siblings and what they had to say about the keeper. He lived in the royal palace, and was almost as old as the Allfather. He could not see into the different worlds, but he saw into the fibres of books, hoarding their knowledge in the tomb of his mind. It was for all others to see, but few dared to look.

Amidst the sea of ears that heard the stories, one was yet unafraid. A small thing of only four, her face was round and kind. Her brown eyes were set above round cheeks and framed by hair not unlike fresh butter. Her mind struggled to find the terrible part of a story about a man lost within his own world of books. She doubted very highly he ate children. If he did, how would they be able to read and learn?

Her thoughts wandered as she sat in the nursery with the other noble children. She was bored, and had grown tired of counting how many clouds were embroidered into the rug she sat on.

"Nym, are you paying attention?" Her elder sister clucked from her chair by the hearth. At sixteen years, Eiden was as pompous as she could be for her age. Her hair was also a clean, yellow colour, but her eyes were a sparkling blue. A smile played on the corners of her mouth when her sister merely shrugged. "And why not?"

"It's not very scary." Nym lisped. The seven other children who sat around her gasped. They had all found the elder girl's story quite horrifying indeed. The smile fell from Eiden's face when she realized that the simple physical act had shaken the pins from her sister's curls. Glowering slightly, she sat forward.

"You're not any fun, you know that? Now, if you aren't enjoying the story, run and find mother. She'll be distraught by the state of your hair." Nym didn't know what distraught meant, but if it made yet another member of her family cross with her, she wouldn't dawdle.

The child stood, leaving the room with her hair falling down her back in quickly unravelling waves. Nym tried to remember the room where she last saw her mother taking tea with Queen Frigga, and swore it was four left turns away.

Or perhaps it was three left turns and one right turn, for it did not take long for her to realize she was horribly lost. At the mercy of her slightly muddled memory, she walked as quickly as she could, trying to retrace her steps. Most of the time, she wasn't paying attention to where she was going, the palace was too beautiful for that. Spiralling golden pillars flanked by delicately beautiful stonework above and below made her crane her neck to see them better. The fountains were bright and clear, just begging her to splash around in them. Looking down at her dress that was still in rather good shape, she shook her head. Maybe not today, but someday.

Her feet carried her up stairs and down ramps until they grew rather sore. Pausing to rest for a moment, she found the first open doors since leaving the nursery. It was taller than she was by miles, she imagined, framed with gold and made of the richest wood in Asgard. It was beautiful and one was ajar. Peeking inside, she caught a glimpse of dust dancing in sunlight. Pushing the door open just a bit more, she realized the dust was coming from the wall-to-ceiling shelves of books. Stacks were placed neatly here and there on tables or beside comfortable-looking reading chairs, with lamps not far by for when the sun set.

Thoroughly captivated, Nym stepped into the library. She knotted her fingers together behind her back, biting her lower lip. The keeper was likely not real, she had nothing to fear if she were caught. And either way, she wasn't scared of him if he was, maybe he would let her help examine the books.

The foyer of the library was only a small fraction of the space being used. Soon, the chairs and tables ended, giving way to the enormous maze of the stacks. Hardly giving it a second though, Nym walked right it. The smell of musty books made her smile, even if it did make her cough a bit too. While she had never been afraid of the dark, she wished there were big, beautiful windows back here as well. The deeper she went, the dimmer it got until she could barely see her hand in front of her face.

Distantly, she heard the sound of a pile of books being knocked over. Her heart catching in her throat, she turn in the other direction and ran, hoping to find the light again. A rat scurried across the floor just before her feet, making her shriek and run faster. It was no use, she soon found, she was lost yet again.

No one would think to look for her here. She would die alone and afraid. Her heart still racing, she sat down against a shelf, burying her face in her hands. Nym willed herself not to cry, but her resolve was weak. Quietly, she sobbed into her hands, thinking about her family and how she'd never gotten to say goodbye.

It could have been minutes or hours she spent in the dark, but soon saw a pale, faint light glowing from just behind her hands. Looking through the spaces between her fingers, Nym gasped when she realized the light was not a spirit as she thought, but from a lantern. It was held aloft by thin fingers attached to big hands. Bony wrists sprouted from arms covered by a fine, dark robe. Her eyes travelled up the shoulder to the figure's face. Half of it was shrouded in shadow, but a thin, wiry beard grew from the chin. Nym could see the light reflecting off of thick, large spectacles seated at the bridge of a beak-like nose. The man was tall, impossibly so, and he was the keeper.

"Lost, are we?" He asked Nym in a voice that sounded like an ocean. Wide and deep, covered in a soft blanket of foam. It churned a feeling of safety in her chest as fluid as water. "Come now, girl. Put your hands away and look me in the eye." Still slightly petrified, despite what the keeper made her feel, she failed to do so for a few moments until she found her courage. "That's better."

"Are you going to eat me?" She asked when she lowered her hands. Her arms wrapped around her chest, and she shivered from the cold wind that seemed to blow only when the keeper was near. Nym flinched when his soft, reedy laughter echoed in the shelves, filling every crack in the vast room.

"Is that what they told you I'd do?" Nym nodded in response, drawing away when he held his hand out to her. "Fifty years ago, they said I made books out of lost little boys and girls. I have never done any such thing."

"Really?" Her voice was disbelieving. Eiden's description had been right, why not the rest of her story?

"I give you my word. Now stand up, girl. Let's find our way out of here." In truth, the keeper needed to find nothing. He knew exactly where he was, and knew the exit was some ways away. How she'd gotten this deep into the maze without him realizing, he did not know. Hesitantly, Nym did as she was told for the second time that day.

"Wait." She said when she was again on her feet. Her little hand clutched tightly at the keeper's, and she marvelled at how his skin felt as dry as paper. He grunted, as if asking what she wanted. Rather than speak, she pointed to the shelves of books opposite to her.

"You want a book, eh?" He didn't need to ask, she looked as if she read. Nevertheless, he made a noise of approval when she nodded and again pointed at a book bound in green leather. He took it from the shelf, brushing the dust off of the cover. It looked like it had not been read in all the years he'd kept the library. "Are you sure you want this one?" The keeper asked, looking at the collection of fairy tales. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as Nym's little arms reached out to grab it.

"Yes! Yes, I want that one!" She was an excitable child, her fear at being lost or worse forgotten when something new and worthy of her attention was presented.

"Oh, I don't know," the keeper began. "You wouldn't rather a nice history book? Some of these stories aren't for good little girls." Nym shook her head.

"Then I won't be good any more, I promise." That earned a laugh from him, a true one. It rumbled like thunder and yet did not scare her. He held the book out to her and she took it.

"No need for that, girl. I only hope you are not afraid of Frost Giants." Nym paused, opening the cover of the book with gentle fingers.

"I am." She said. "But mama says they can't get me, no matter how many times Eiden says they'll get me if I'm naughty."

"Your mother is right. Frost Giants are no threat to you. Read that and maybe they won't be as frightening." Nym nodded, taking his hand again, despite the fact he had not offered it this time. His lantern brightened just slightly so they could see as he lead her out of the stacks and into the waning daylight. The child's eyes widened and she asked for the time.

"You've been gone for some time." The keeper said. He knew she was worried what her mother would say to that, and an idea was blooming in his tired mind. She did not release him from her small grip, and she tugged on his arm as she walked to the door.

"Will you help me find mama? She's having tea with the Queen." He nodded, taking the lead with small steps so as not to pull on her arm. She kept up as well as she could, commenting on the stories she knew in her book. Her chatter was refreshing to the keeper, and he replied, remembering fondly the simpler stories of childhood.

"The Poplar and the Stream is in that book, I believe. Read it last." When Nym asked him why, the old man replied; "Do children no longer save the best for last?" Nym promised him she would, although she could not deny that she wanted to read it right then and there.

When Nym reached the Queen's sitting-room, her heart sank at the sight of her mother nearly doubled-over and crying. Eiden was pacing nearby, looking stricken. Her sister turned, seeing Nym in the doorway and let out a shout, running at her. Eiden hugged Nym tightly, both out of relief to see her again and anger at wandering off. She was soon released and hugged by her mother, who put her hands on her shoulders after ward.

"Nym! Where have you been?" She asked in a stony voice. Nym looked over her mother's shoulders at the Queen, who gave her a small smile. Returning it, she opened her mouth to tell her mother where she'd been, but was stopped by the keeper.

"My lady," he began, his voice taking on an authoritative edge that had not been there when he spoke to Nym, "your daughter has been safe with me for the duration of her disappearance." She frowned, looking to Queen Frigga.

"May I present to you, Lady Olia, the keeper of the royal library." Nym could hear Eiden's mouth falling open, and it made her smile just a bit.

"He gave me a book, mama." She said softly, touching the cover and showing it to her.

"I did not give it to you, but I will let you borrow it until we return." The child nodded, clutching the book to her chest.

"Mama, can we come back soon? Can we come back tomorrow?" Lady Olia seemed embarrassed by her daughter's insistence.

"Is our library to your liking?" The Queen asked her. The little girl nodded, shaking her now messy curls about.

"Yes, yes and yes!" She replied. Tucking the book under her arm, she grabbed her mother's hand. "It's bigger than anything I've ever seen, mama. It's dark and cold and beautiful when you have a light. There are so many books and I want to read them all!" Her mother blushed and tried to pull away, but Nym would not let her. "And, I've decided I don't want to be a princess any more." She announced. Eiden's eyes widened.

"Then what on earth else would you want to be?" She asked, remembering how she'd been told by her for years that she would marry a prince and live in a palace.

"When I grow up," Nym paused for dramatic effect. "I want to be the keeper, too!" Her mother's look of mortification faded to confusion.

Oh my goodness, I'm terrible! I should be writing for my other fanfics', but I thought I might revisit an old section. I'm really excited for this fic and I hope you guys like it too!

The plot will take place mostly during Thor, Loki and Nym's childhood, with heavy emphasis on their lives before the events of the films. Nevertheless, what happens in them will occur eventually.

I hope to see you all soon! Bye!