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by Chris Kenworthy (scoobyhq@fcmail.com)
Disclaimer: None of the characters or worlds of the Buffy show belong to me, especially Rupert Giles. Miranda Lindley, Warren Giles, and Derek Lindley-Giles are joint property of the Avatar Chronicles group.
Well, after the nature walk, we had an early tea with all the other watchers, during which Mister Lindley and Dapper pretty much monopolized the conversation, occasionally asking Brawny or Princess their opinion on something or another. I wasn't invited to participate in the discussion, and I didn't mind that one bit. Sharing so much with Princess earlier still had me off balance. I asked to be excused over dessert and went up to the guest room to lie down, and ended up falling asleep. My timetable has been so confused lately that my internal clock must be neither fish nor fowl nor good red herring.
When I surfaced again, the clock said eight-thirty, and I got up, putting on a pair of pajamas and a housecoat, and emerged out of the room. There was a light coming from down the hall, the doorway I remembered was Princess' room, abd sof classical music was coming from the same direction. I stalked down the corridor and poked my head in the door.
It was a sight I will never forget. Princess herself, a vision in a soft pink nightgown, was sitting in front of one of the desks in her room. It was the desk I had noticed all of the electronic gizmos, and if they had seemed strange quiescent, they were downright baffling when activated. The monitor screem was bright and filled with symbols I couldn't understand - well, I could understand them by themselves - letters, numbers, greek alphabet characters, mathematical operators. It was how they went together that baffled me - and this from a man who has studied egyptian hieroglyps.
The television was connected to a large open metal box, which wired to something that seemed vaguely like a typewriter keyboard, which Princess was holding in front of her and typing into. Also a part of the mix were a several other pieces, including a tape reel. Another tape player was producing the Tchaikovsky.
And... all about Miranda, there were stuffed animals. The grey cat I had noticed sitting on her pillow earlier, several other cats, and beasts of several other species, perching on the equipment, lined up on a bookcase next to her, anywhere else there was free space. One of them, a small plush unicorn, actually seemed to be moving for an instant when I had first looked into the room. Right then, Princess looked up, just in time to notice me at the door, and smiled.
"Hello Rupert. How are you feeling?" she asked with a usual sunny smile.
"Pretty good and what in all damnable creation is that??" I asked, waving at the machine.
"Oh, the computer?" She seemed quite proud of it. "Father just bought it a few months ago, and I put it together myself."
"Yes, but what is it??" I repeated, edging slowly into the room. There was a small chair nearby and I dragged it around to take a seat. "What does it do??"
"Oh, I'm sure you've heard of computers, Rupert!!" she chided me. "Electronic machines, they do calculations and process data using..." I waved her silent with a flippant hand. I had heard of computers, very vaguely, in that same way that you hear about foreign countries you never intend to visit. But... "I had no idea that they were so... small."
That earned me a soft punch on the shoulder. "Most aren't. This is the first 'personal computer' model ever. Most machines would take up a quarter of a room at least." She chuckled. "I just love computers. They make me feel so in touch with the future."
"Oh, they're just a fad," I pshawed.
"Bite your tongue!!"
I decided to change the subject. "Quite a clutter you have here."
Her face turned down at the corners. "What??"
I waved to indicate the stuffed animals. "A clutter of cats... among other creatures."
"Haha. Oh, yes. My 'friends.' Father packed them all up in a box in the closet while I was away working with mister Taylor - I think he's embarassed by having stuffed toys taking over a room in his house, even if it's my room." She picked up the gray cat and stroked it in her lap. "I had to let them out, even if only for a little while."
"They... they seem like very nice and noble beasts," I commented diplomatically. I waved at the gray. "Does he have a name?"
"Oh, they all do," she laughed. "This is Deuteronomy, and we've got Mistofilees and Rum Tum Tugger and Skimbleshanks and... and yes, I know. I liked T.S. Eliot far too much when I was a little girl. And the cats have their friends, Browner and Sagacity and Hornful and... yes, I'll stop talking now."
"You don't have to," I laughed. So she showed me Hornful the toy unicorn, who had been enchanted by her aunt so that he actually could move on his own and snort in response to the emotions of those around him. She showed me some things on her contraption, which I pretended to be interested in, and we talked for most of the evening.
May 10th, 1975.
Brawny woke me up nice an early this morning, and we bundled back into the van to drive off to the Castle. It felt much the same as before, but different, better somehow. Now, I at least knew how much I could count on Princess, and that gave me a sense of support I hadn't realized before.
It wasn't too long before we were driving into one of the modern parking garages that had recently been built under the ancient shadow of the Watcher's Castle. Miranda indicated that I should take her hand as we walked into the premises, and I did so, feeling awkwardly like a pubescent teenager on his first date, for some reason.
A captain of the Templars castle guard was waiting for us. "Sir Taylor?" He looked right at me, and then at Princess. "This is the prisoner, Rupert William Giles??"
"It is," Princess announced loudly. "The prisoner has sworn the oath of honorable conduct as a prisoner, and it is my responsibility to hold him to that oath. He is my concern now."
The templar nodded slowly. "Then he is released into your custody, Watcher..."
"Miranda Lindley," Princess supplied helpfully.
He nodded in acceptance. "Any questions??"
There were none. Princess and I went to get assigned quarters, adjoining rooms on the seventh floor, J wing. (Boy, this castle was a large place.) My hearing was scheduled to begin the day after tomorrow, and Merrick Lindley, Princess' father, (would that make him the King?) would be arriving tomorrow to discuss my situation with me. So that left us with very little to do today but try to relax. We played more games - some chess, draughts, piquet, and another of princees' weird card games, this one called quintet, with both of us playing the same set of cards into five poker hands.
We had dinner with a few friends of Princess', another rather awkward and silent affair, and I got another early night, hoping this time to sleep all night and get myself back on a daytime schedule.
May 11, 1975. (Morning.)
I had another dream last night. And this time, the import is so clear and unmistakeable that I cannot blind myself to its meaning anymore.
I was walking through a forest, along a straight and narrow path, when I saw a dark-skinned elf standing beside a great elm tree. "Come off of that boring path," he said to me, "and I will show you wonders that you never dreamed of."
And I did, for I had grown tired of the path, and the elf pointed out many of the beautiful sights that the wild and untamed forest had to offer. "And the greatest sight of all just awaits us, my friend," the elf said. "The dragon of the forest. It's fun to pinch his tail and then run away."
"Isn't that dangerous?" I asked.
"Not at all," the elf assured me. "Come along, Deuteronomy." And a gray cat ran along to keep up with us. Suddenly, there was the dragon before us, and just as he had said he would, the elf pinched the dragon's tail and ran away.
Suddenly the great beast was upon us, a puff of smoke clouding out of his nostrils as he lept to the attack, teeth flashing. I dodged one way, the elf ran the other. But the dragon fell upon th little gray cat and devoured it whole, without hardly swallowing.
I ran through the dark wood, until it dawned upon me that the worm was not chasing me. But now I was hopelessly lost, and new neither where the path or the elf was. Then a new figure appeared, dropping from the high trees - a warrior maiden, with hair more golden than the sun. "Have you misplaced your way?" she asked.
"Yes," I panted desperately. "Can you help me find the path again??"
"I can," she said calmly. "But there is a price."
"Anything," I replied quickly.
"Your heart."
"...But that," I finished without missing a beat.
"I will not let any harm come to it," she continued persuasively. "I will treasure it with me forever, and you will be none the worse for it. Of course..."
"I would love you," I finished. "Very well, then. Take your price." And she reached into my chest, pulled out a heart, and suddenly we were both standing on the path again.
That's all there was. Very obvious in its symbolism, of course, and some of it has to be attributed to a colorful imagination, like my heart being the price of coming back to the true path. But I feel as if I actually am coming close to returning to the path my life should be taking.
And the golden-haired maiden, who is of course Princess - does own my heart.
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