The Substitute Librarian
Final Push
Emerald had been too happy to relax when he got… home.
It was an odd concept. After only one full day of librarianing, the creaky old oak tree felt more ‘home-like’ than the fraternity house in college he had spent the last few years in, or even his own home with his parents. The tree was no modest Canterlot estate, to say the least. It creaked and moaned in even a light breeze, and there was an ugly crack in the front door that any competent librarian would have gotten patched the day it happened. After the stressful day he had just survived, nopony could blame him for just staggering inside and flopping down on the couch, even if he was still a little damp from the fountain.
Instead, he slipped through the propped-open door just long enough to retrieve a paintbrush and proceed with a little housekeeping job he had never really thought about before. There was a flowerbed outside filled with a dense purple mass of autumn-blooming crocus, although it had a wire mesh fence around it to prevent any unwise nibbling by ponies too young to recognize their nature. The one thing the broad blooms lacked were bees, who were lazing around by their hive up on a library branch as if they were too proud to lower themselves to the menial task.
It seemed a terrible shame.
The delightful scent of crocus tickled his nose when he stepped over the wire fence and began to tickle the flowers back with the paintbrush grasped firmly in his teeth. After all, even if they were poisonous flowers, they deserved to be as happy as he was. So Emerald dipped the paintbrush into the blossoms with abandon, flicking and brushing pollen until a few curious bees from above came down to see what he was doing.
And then a few more bees followed, apparently jealous of their private honey source being poached even if they had not been taking advantage of their asset. Before things got out of control, Emerald slipped out of the flowerbed and bent the wire fence protecting the flowers back into shape. It probably wouldn’t hurt the local students more than a tummyache if they took a nip or two of the poisonous petals, but better safe than sorry. He retreated further as more bees gathered, content to listen to the drone of their activity from the relative safety of the library doorway while the sun sank lower in the sky.
There was something magical about the way twilight settled in over the small town of Ponyville, like a dignified old mare slipping into an evening gown to go out among other dignified, respectable relatives for a night of sipping wine and gossiping. He flipped the ‘Closed’ sign over and retreated inside, this time allowing the door to close completely with the faint thrum of the locking enchantments.
Much like the bees, Emerald really did not want to work on such a nice evening. It was beautiful outside. If left to his own devices, he would dither around the building until past midnight, which would be too late to actually start one last pass over his notes before the upcoming midterm examinations. Proactive procrastination prevention was prescribed.
He made a list, putting ‘Study’ at the bottom.
And it was a little bit of a cheat, but he put ‘Pollinate flowers’ at the top, then marked it off.
Then with the realization that Lark Spur was no longer in the library, and that the physiology notes he was studying had been read all the way through to the sample test in the back, he marked one more entry on the list to be immediately marked off.
While he sat there looking out of the library window across the growing shadows of the town, Emerald let his mind wander a little. If the Elements of Harmony remained out on their mission past midterms, there was supposed to be some mechanism for him to retake any missed exams without losing points. He could be here a week or more, keeping the books herded into their respective vertical corrals, chatting with the townsponies, and sleeping on the lumpy couch so he didn’t disturb Twilight Sparkle’s bed. Which was worth an entry on the list.
Curiosity made him look into the closed bedroom, although he still felt a little like a voyeur, and had to check and make sure the library front door was locked first. He had expected her bed to be a mess, with books stuffed under the sheets and bits of leftover snacks laying around, much like his own bed at the fraternity house. Instead, Twilight Sparkle’s book-packed room was as spotlessly clean and ruthlessly organized as a military barracks, with a bed that had been made so tightly that the covers were in danger of splitting.
Just out of curiosity, he even bounced a bit off the taut sheets just to see how far it would go.
There was no way in Tartarus that he ever could sufficiently clean up behind himself after sleeping there, and it would have been a little creepy anyway for both of them. The secondary alternate of the basket was also right out, both because of the lingering scent of predatory dragon and the reduced size. So the couch it was.
He would probably be sleeping downstairs on the library couch for as long as he was a substitute librarian. Or more probably knocking the cushions onto the floor and sleeping there, because a close inspection revealed the ancient couch had more knots in it than the tree.
He marked ‘bed’ off the list. That left food, because it was impossible to study while being distracted by hunger. At home, his mother would have told Cook to…
The gut-clenching stress just came out of nowhere. To fight it, Emerald stretched out on the cool wooden floor of the main library floor, putting his nose against the worn oak and breathing in. The home he had grown up in had been all varnish and tile, tidy rugs and smooth granite, frozen in time. Everything had a place there. Every plate, every portrait, every book in the library. From the precise greenhouse in back where his mother ruled over every flower and shelf, to his father who ran his company like a military operation. Every one of his brothers and sisters had their role to play, their assigned places in the orchestral performance while their goofy earth pony brother banged away on the drums in the background. From high society to diplomatic appointments to social placement to academic excellence, his siblings all accepted their placement in the universe as dictated by parental prerogative. The one space in the family machine lacking an appropriate gear was an heir to the House Chrysanthemum industry, and therefore a place in the corporate structure of the company.
A space that would not, could not, and was not going to be filled by a simple teacher of elementary unicorn magic.
If only there were some way for him to merge with the library tree, to become one with the flow of sap and bookshelf. The second youngest child of Baron Chrysanthemum would vanish, and the students of the small town would flourish in return, learning under his shade, reading his books, absorbing his wisdom through some process that perhaps library trees did. Then again, trees had bees, and ants, and had to stand outside in the rain, snow, and wind. It would be a heavy price to escape his father, even if it was nothing but fantasy.
An idle thought about what Rag Picker had said still scratched at the back of his mind. He probably could run away to Protocera, find a position teaching foals among the local ponies there, and live his entire life out from under his father’s guiding hoof. Then again, the House Chrysanthemum company sold unicorn workings to the griffons, so his father could probably track him down even there. Inevitably, the distant visit would include another mare that Father thought would make a good match for his errant son, somepony with a few drops of noble blood who would bring him back to Canterlot where he belonged, and produce grandfoals, of course.
There was certainly familial love in that persistent endeavor, a thread of love that had brought the baron’s once-frail son to where he was now. As much as Emerald wished he could sever those ties and fly away to become his own stallion, he could not bear to think of the consequences. Because, after all, he loved his family too, and did not want to hurt them. Even though he refused to admit it out loud.
If you fall asleep here with your nose against the floor, you’re going to wake up tomorrow in a world of hurt. Come on, up and at ‘em. Finish your list, do your last studying before the exams, then sleep. And find some way to keep those couch cushions under Derpy’s landing spot all the time. She makes such a loud noise that she might get hurt. Or disturb the patrons.
Food. That was next on the list, after getting up and staggering into the tiny kitchen. There was fruit in the icebox, so it took very little time to make a quick fruit salad, a cooking task that was well within his limited talents and sufficient to keep him fed for a few meals. It left him with more than a few of the delicious trimmings and peels to snack on rather than throw away perfectly good food. He diced and cubed in relative silence, enjoying the familiar sounds in the empty tree-house. It was a comfortable life he could get used to in a hurry, without many of the luxuries of Canterlot but with the simple pleasures he enjoyed far more. Admittedly, there were not enough unicorn students in the small town to keep him busy tutoring through their first magic, but a job as a librarian would fill the gaps quite well indeed.
Something gave off a short tremor underhoof while he mused and cubed, making the lighting devices in the library flicker. It was just for an instant, but showed just how dark the place would be without an alternative light source. The official residents of the tree were a dragon with exceptional night vision and a unicorn who could make her own light, so he took a break and scrounged in the cabinets to find a dusty candle lantern that probably dated back a few decades. Most modern candle fixtures had a working to quench the wick when it had burned down to the bottom, although this antique actually predated the Chrysanthemum company, and Emerald did not think there was any kind of unicorn magic on it. He stuck one of the ceramic kitchen plates under it instead, added water to the extinguishing reservoir, placed the whole thing on the table, and lit it with one of the long wooden matches from a dusty box next to the oven.
There. If the lights go out, I won’t break my neck trying to find things in the dark.
Dawn, his father’s groundskeeper, would probably make another visit and bring more food than Emerald could eat again if he was not discouraged. Although there had not been any bananas in the collection he had recently delivered, and a proper fruit salad practically required a banana or two. Certainly, somewhere in the farmer’s market there had to be some imported bananas, and a single one would not break his budget, so Emerald left a quick note to himself on the table.
Dawn, get a banana.
Dinner having been taken care of, Emerald put the bowl of diced fruit into the icebox to chill while getting set up for the rest of his evening chores. His stomach rumbled objection to the delay in getting fed, but he ignored it. After all, if he was hungry, he would not dawdle around.
It was an incentive, a literal carrot on a stick in fruit salad form.
Notes were next. He needed a comfortable spot to spread out his papers without getting them mixed up in the library paperwork, so that left… hm… the balcony, of course. There would be a nice breeze from the dark town, a few stars to keep him company, and nothing to distract him like being surrounded by readable books.
The reduction in the massive oak desk’s paperwork load from sending his notes into the frat house was made up for by the increase in their notes he had received in return, so repacking his study materials into the oversized saddlebags was difficult, but still possible. Which left him free for his short trip up the low-stepped ramp where his study location waited.
Hooking the firefly lantern on a nearby hook, Emerald took a look around the balcony. The scent from the pollinated crocus flowers below made a nice counterpoint to the oaky scent of the tree, the lamplight provided just enough illumination to make reading pleasant, and lying chest-down on the bare wood should be just uncomfortable enough for him to stay awake. It left him musing about his placement in the universe as he arranged the stacks of notes. After all, it always felt good to reach the end of his study guides, putting that last period on the last line before the last burst of studying . There were always edits, of course, but this marked a midpoint, a time of scholastic understanding that most of his fellow students only reached a day or two after final exams. It was made only better by knowing his hard work had gone off to his fraternity in Canterlot where his frat brothers were studying, even if they did not really appreciate his work. After all, he did. And most likely Derpy appreciated his putting down cushions for her inevitable crash landing in the middle of the library main room.
He stretched out and put the school notes to one side, just looking through the balcony’s railing at the glimmer of the town lights below. There was a shallow depression where he was resting against the bare wood of the balcony floor, most likely put there by generations of belly-pressure by librarians much like himself who flopped down on their chests to watch the town sink into darkness, or early-rising librarians who liked to watch the rise of Sun. It was a good spot to think and observe as shadows finished engulfing the town and the windows started to light up in small clusters.
A line of lights began to work their way down one of the larger paths, which took Emerald a few minutes to recognize. After all, he had only skimmed the librarian instructions in his packet, and could barely remember a townspony called Blighter the Lamplighter, who must have been making his rounds, leaving small pools of golden light in his wake.
Even that limited light would not last for long, because last evening had surprised Emerald with the relative shortness of Ponyville’s night life. In two or three hours, Blighter would reverse his path. The streetlamps would go out one by one until the only artificial illumination left in town would be a small red lamp at the police station and the library’s porch light. The moon and stars would remain, of course, although nopony would be watching them but Princess Luna and himself.
Emerald had never really considered what magic was behind the huge oak tree he was in until now. Library Oaks were unusual, but not too rare across Equestrian towns and villages. They were probably a result of mixing earth pony Cornucopia Effect and unicorn magic, now that he thought about it. Even if only one or two groups of specialists knew the combined working, the trees probably took forever to grow to this size. He closed his eyes and touched his hooves to the raw oak of the balcony floor, trying to feel down below the magical wards, under the workings that Twilight Sparkle had spread around, way down to the earth pony magic that underlaid everything. It took some time, but the library was empty, and he had the time now. Whenever Emerald had tried to touch the magic that made plants grow before, even with houseplants at home, he had failed. This time, there was something there, something about the much larger plant that he was actually inside of that made him feel as if he could almost hear it say…
No, there was too much of Twilight Sparkle’s unicorn magic scattered around. Besides, he never had gotten his natural earth pony magic to even sprout beans in school, so expecting to somehow reach out to the heart of the tree and feel it speaking to him was just his mind playing tricks to keep from studying.
After stretching out in the shallow wooden depression again, he tilted his hat back and looked out into the dark town, sparkling in the moonlight and seeming as if it were a whole new place. The scents of night-blooming gardenias and jasmine drifted up the tree’s trunk, along with another delicate scent that he could not place. It was admittedly nice, but distracting as he continued to observe the town’s transition into deeper darkness.
Once his studying and midterms week was over, if he were still librarian, this would be the perfect place to relax in the evenings. All he needed was a place to put a glass of wake-up juice, a notepad, and a stack of library books to enjoy the evening. That would be about perfect. A little twisting around and looking let him see the fresher marks in the bark where Twilight Sparkle had fixed a lamp hook for illumination, behind him for some reason. And the dark round rings where she had placed her damp glasses were likewise located underneath the lantern location, which was both a little foolish because flying insects would drop into the wake-up juice, and it would take a considerable stretch to reach way back there in order to pick up the glass. It would have made far better sense to have both the lamp hook and the refreshment over—
She reads books while facing into the library, not facing out. That means what I’m smelling is from her other—
It only took a moment to hop up, regard his previous location, and decide on another activity for the evening rather than leaving his nose stuck down into the female librarian’s regular rump resting spot. Unfortunately, rearranging his notes to allow for lying down in the opposite direction left him facing into the library, at an altitude where he could see every misaligned book and gap. And after all since he was being paid to manage the library, it only made sense to actually do the assigned job this evening before reviewing his notes again. Besides, he would never be able to focus on his studying if he could see distracting tasks that needed to be done.
It only took a few minutes to trot down the shallow steps of the ramp to the main library floor, arrange the couch cushions on Derpy’s regular landing spot, finish the check-in and fine payments for the last few books of the evening, and regard the stack of books that still needed reshelving. Even with the hopeless books he had sent out to be pulped, the returns were probably going to be more than the empty spaces in the shelves, which would mean more rearranging, shuffling, and moving to get them all to fit, if they would. That could take all night.
Tomorrow. Afternoon, maybe.
Finishing up the rest of the tasks let Emerald tidy up the huge librarian desk, make one pass around the library with the Barnyard Bargains cart to pick up any misplaced books (because the Returns cart was already full), and some dusting.
After marking the last line in the daily ledger entries, he finished his tasks by refilling the quill box again with his earlier purchases. Grumbling about library patrons who viewed the jar as a discount shopping center, Emerald checked to make sure none of his notes had slipped into any cracks in the massive oak desk, refilled the ink bottle, adjusted the magical desk light, and gave a short nod.
Librarian duties for the day, done. Student duties for the evening, prepared. Study time, about to start. At least I can do that without sniffing Twilight Sparkle’s…
Emerald lifted one foreleg up and sniffed his pits.
Revised plan: A quick bubble bath, a small bowl of fruit salad and a large glass of wakeup juice from the icebox, and then studying all night.
While strolling into the bathroom and getting the ancient claw-footed tub prepared for a bath, Emerald considered a proper incentive for after studying, other than just collapsing and sleeping until noon. A book would be a nice change of pace, something short and punchy that did not relate to teaching.
The tub filled exceedingly slowly, so while Emerald was waiting for the suds to build up, he perused the shelves of the library as a patron. Several of the books tempted him, particularly one called Banging Around the House which he had thought was a fix-up book for home repairs, until he put it down on the librarian desk and peeked inside.
“We’ll just set this one aside for now,” he murmured, putting it on the far end of the library desk where it would not ignite any of the other paper. A book on Minotauran mining poetry looked like an interesting candidate for this evening’s relaxation, at least for a short time after study guides and before bed. At home, he could read in the bathtub, but here, it probably was a very bad idea, particularly since the book was supposed to be a post facto reward.
Putting the book on the librarian chair for later, Emerald wandered back into the bathroom and turned off the faucets. The air was filled with the delicate scent of lilac, a healthy covering of suds nearly reached the top edge of the tub, and the towels…
“Why does she lock the linen closet?” grumbled Emerald while rattling the wooden door. “It’s not like anypony is going to steal…”
On second consideration, the spare roll of toilet paper he had left out after filling the roll was gone, and the primary roll next to the flush toilet was stripped down to the bare cardboard tube. Getting the mechanical key to the bathroom cabinet out of the librarian desk, he opened the linen closet much like a banker would open the vault to reveal the precious contents.
Getting out two extra rolls this time, Emerald refilled the toilet paper dispenser, put the spare rolls on the shelf behind the toilet, and locked the rest of the vanishing supply securely back into the cabinet. It was worth noting that the door’s lock had quite a number of tiny scratch marks around it, as if library patrons made a habit of ‘nudging’ the lock in the hopes of lifting a few rolls of toilet paper or fluffy towels for their own home. In hindsight, the missing loose towel in the bathroom had probably suffered the same fate, and was in use in some townspony’s bathroom.
Maybe if I chained one towel down, it would stay put for the whole day?
Placing the two largest and fluffiest towels next to the tub, Emerald slipped out of his vest and tossed it gently outside of the bathroom, then paused with one hoof just barely touching the suds.
At home, this would be the moment that one of his brothers would do something terrible. He would be forced to respond, and only be able to return once the bathwater had cooled to something worthy of ice cubes. In that regard, his frat brothers were true brothers also. In fact, Emerald could not ever remember taking a proper hot bath, ever.
“I’m not at home or at school,” he murmured. “I’m librarysitting. The front door is closed, the sign is out, and the town is about as dark as it gets around here. Getting one hoof wet will not somehow trigger a disaster. There’s nothing on fire in the entire library other than the candle in the kitchen, and that’s in the glass jar, on a plate, in the middle of the table, so it won’t spill. There’s nothing keeping me from getting into the tub and staying there until I’m a wrinkled prune.”
He paused, listening. Something out in the darkness had made a noise. It could have been a giggle, or perhaps one of the squeaking noises the tree made in the breeze. Perhaps the universe was laughing at him. Or there was an intruder. Who had somehow bypassed the complicated magical wards around the library—
Or possibly had just flown in through the open balcony doors upstairs.
He scowled at the foamy suds. During his review of the library, Emerald had noticed a set of thaumaturgical research tomes on a high ‘Reference’ shelf, out of reach of the town’s youth. From his own experience purchasing spell tomes for his father’s library, Emerald knew the prices on those kinds of books ranked from ‘expensive’ to ‘you have to be kidding.’ Undoubtedly, due to the fact that Twilight Sparkle was Princess Celestia’s private student, some of these books could literally be priceless.
“And what am I supposed to do if somepony is stealing them,” he muttered while trotting back out into the well-lit library, “other than scream my head off and hope the local police just happen to be outside.
A brief check of the main floor showed the valuable reference books still intact, with no shadowy figures stalking around the library on book-stealing missions. The second floor was likewise empty and quiet, leaving Emerald to look out across the town from the open balcony doors for a moment.
The only activity he could see was the train, which was pulling into the station on some late-night run with the distant shuffle of a few ponies either getting on or off.
“Thank the stars for small favors,” murmured Emerald. “I know Dad’s got some locking bookshelf widgets with magical wards for expensive volumes. Maybe I can get a couple donated here next month… Naa, he’d use it as some sort of social prybar.”
Giving the balcony doors a shove to close them, Emerald felt the tingle of locking wards under his shoes and grimaced. He was being paranoid again. When everything was going his way and normal ponies would be perfectly happy, he just had to start angsting until something, anything would go wrong. This ‘librarian’ job had turned out to be almost trivial, his studying was going better than it would have in the fraternity with all the minute-by-minute interruptions, and…
Well, he had to admit it. The town was full of attractive mares, which was something to consider checking out after his midterms were done.
By the time Emerald got to the bathroom again, he was whistling a merry tune, right up to the point where he touched one hoof to the warm suds and somepony started hammering on the front door of the library.
“If that’s my brother,” muttered Emerald as he headed out into the library main room. “Pow, right in the face. We’re closed!” The locking wards to the door gave him a sharp tingle when Emerald yanked open the front door and gave the stodgy unicorn behind it a fierce scowl. “Oh! Papercut. What are you doing here at this hour of the—”
“Bearer mission is over,” managed the panting bureaucrat, who looked as if he had run to the library from admittedly somewhere close, since he was just out of breath and not sweaty. “They’re getting off the train right now, and the return trip to Canterlot leaves in ten minutes.”
“Ha! I knew it!” declared Emerald to the momentary bafflement of Papercut as he turned and darted up the shallow steps of the ramp to the second floor. “Let me grab my stuff. Go ahead and tell the others.”
“You’re the last one. The weather crew got the farm and the animal shelter; I just finished with the bakery and the clothes store.”
“Thank you, Papercut, You’re like a brother to me. Really,” managed Emerald as he collected his notes, a task that might have taken until after the train had departed if not for a pale grey glow that surrounded each stack and sorted them into his saddlebags neatly. “I mean, thanks. Honestly. Sorry about snapping at you like that.”
“Think nothing of it,” said Papercut, who had followed Emerald up the stairs and was using his magic to gather up the last few bits of paper still scattered around. “Sir.”
“Not a problem.” Emerald prepared to shoulder his bags, then accepted the pocket-filled vest that Papercut floated over. “Oh, almost forgot that on the bathroom floor. Thanks again.”
“Just attempting to leave the workplace neat and tidy for Twilight Sparkle.” Papercut followed obediently behind Emerald as he scurried down the stairs, his sharp nose twitching as he peered into every corner of the quiet library. “Acceptable, I suppose, although there are still quite a few books that need reshelved.”
“Leaving them for the regular librarian. Don’t want to miss the train.” Emerald paused at the front doorway and looked back at the library he had called home for such a short time. Everything was so neat and tidy it could almost have been his own father’s library. If nothing else, the Princess’ student should appreciate finding it so—
“Just a second, Papercut. One last thing.” Darting into the main room again, Emerald bucked out with both hind hooves in a calculated bump against the nearest bookshelf, setting it wobbling and knocking some of the neat rows of books into minor disarray. He repeated the process on the next bookshelf, trying to control the impact enough not to send any of the books tumbling to the floor.
“What are you doing?” hissed Papercut from the doorway. “We need to— Oh, hello Miss Sparkle. Is there anything I can do for you?”
The returning librarian’s answer was nearly inaudible, although a second, much younger voice that had to have been her dragon added, “We’re fine, just glad to be home. Papercut, right?”
“Yes indeed, young sir.”
Emerald did not quite catch the rest of the conversation, because he gave a quick hip-bump to a last bookshelf on his way around the corner as Twilight Sparkle passed on the other side, and the sound of books rustling drowned out the words. He did catch a glimpse of the dragon, a short purple creature with frilly green fins, as he headed out the front door right afterward, and managed a quick nod of the head before emerging into the cool night air and turning his steps to the distant train station. Slow at first, but increasing to a rapid gallop when the first short whistle sounded.
He managed to convince the conductor to hold their departure the extra minute it took for a panting Papercut to catch up. After all, he was the one who signed the cheques.