After the grandeure of the Observatory, Sam wasn't sure what to expect from the Undercroft, but he was quietly excited. He'd heard tell of many books here. Even if he couldn't read the language, he wondered if the Fae used any book-binding techniques he might not know, how their ink was made. Perhaps he could see what sort of illustrations they added.
Still invisible but with a slight spring in his brisk walk, he headed under the tree and stopped at the first pile of books he saw; remembered Wessex's words he picked up a small one, just the size of his hand, and slipped it into his bag. It felt wrong to steal, but...it was for The Voice, ultimately, right?
He was sure she had to have good intentions.
For a while he looked about, opened books to find alien words and odd-smelling pages, each more fascinating than the last. He could have stayed there til morning if not for the fear of being found, a book turning it's own pages in mid-air a rather suspicious sight for anyone passing by. As the sky began to get lighter he quietly walked away from the large tree and out of Sidhe, leaving as quickly as possible through side passages.
Samuel
I want you so badly
But you could be anyone
