Promotion

"No, I won't do it!" Tenerië stated flatly, her reddened eyes not impeding her glare as she looked round the table at her fellow archivists and the Steward. "I have no interest or desire to be Chief Archivist. Remedur was a diplomat as well as an artist. I may be the latter but am far from the former. The first time the issue of funding for preservation comes up in Council I'll end up offending three quarters of the members."

"I actually think that might be a good thing," Faramir told her. "Master Remedur was diplomatic but he also allowed himself to be walked over with distressing regularity."

"Which is why it took threatening to store the contents of the lower eastern stacks in Lord Agorcham's townhouse before we got the money needed to fix the crack in the wall before the spring rains last year," Master Locrien interjected. "If Master Remedur had stood up for us we wouldn't have risked losing so much of the family histories."

Mistress Baranfel, one of the more recently appointed senior archivists, said, "Considering that a good portion of the Councilors' family histories are stored here, you'd think they'd be more amenable to making sure they're safe."

"I can't take his place." Tenerië insisted, her voice cracking despite her attempt to keep her emotions under control. "I can't."

"You're not being asked to take his place, but to succeed him in the position of Chief Archivist," Faramir's voice held sympathy and patience. "You spoke to me once of having a vocation protecting our history, of being a soldier of words. Think of it as a promotion from Captain to General."

Locrien smirked at the simile. "Does that mean we'll have to salute her? Honestly, Tenerië, I think of the lot of us, you will do the best job at it. And you don't have to do it all yourself like Master Remedur did. You can always delegate, you know."

"You won't be expected to take on everything at once," Faramir added. "There are mechanisms in place to keep things running during the transition. The most important thing is that whoever is Chief Archivist must be devoted to the protection and growth of the Archives." He reached out and laid his hand on her ink-stained one. "I can't think of anyone more devoted to that than you. Will you accept the position?"

"What does the King have to say about it?" She sniffed, a hint of her usual acerbity back in her voice. "I thought he chose the Chief Archivist."

"Oh, he delegated the task to me," the Steward said in a deprecating tone. "I think he figured that I might sway you more easily, given our history."

"Hmmmm." Tenerië looked away from her former pupil towards the empty chair at the head of the table. It looked wrong to not see Master Remedur there, with his wry smile and frequently bandaged fingers and his favourite mug near at hand. Tears spilled over her cheeks as she seemed to feel a familiar hand running through her short hair and her own departed teacher's voice whispered in her ear:

You'll do just fine, Tenerië. I have faith in you. You'll do just fine.

Scrubbing at her face with her sleeve, she sighed and turned back to her waiting companions.

"Tell, his majesty that my answer is yes."