|
|
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.
This is Miranda Regan Lindley, and I am writing in the journal of Rupert William Giles because I love him very, very, very much; and he must never forget that, no matter what the future holds for us.
Um... yes. Rupert here again, and I suppose the previous sentence speaks for itself. As you probably already guessed, Princess got ahold of the book.
Let's see, I believe that I left some things unfinished yesterday, so where were we? (Checks back a page.) Ah, right. Lunch and more work on Raleigh's references, and then I dropped the hint that I was going out with Princess without explaining how that came about, hehe.
Well, it was around five thirty last night when I got the next knock on my cubicle door. I called come in without really looking up from the quest for the midnight star, but somehow I could tell just from the way that the door squeaked open that it was Miranda. When I looked up, she was standing in the doorway, a nervous smile on her beautiful face. "Hello, Rupert darling."
I jumped up instantly out of my chair and hurried over to her. "What... what is it, Miranda?" If she was nervouse, then that made me even more nervous. Had she come here to tell me it was all over between us? Surely not... well, probably not. Hell, I had no clue how she felt about me now.
"I... I..." Princess wrapped an affectionate arm quickly around my shoulders and then headed further into the office, looking for a chair, but apparently not wanting to take over 'my' chair behind the desk.
"It's okay," I assured her. "Or..." I remembered that Raleigh had said something about a folding chair behind the bookcase, so I took it out and set it up opposite the desk, and Miranda flashed me a radiant smile and sat down.
"Thanks. Sorry I came by so late, but I've been busy in my studies all morning. I didn't exactly learn what I was supposed to on our latest field exercise... because of you, Rupert."
"I know," I admitted, taking a seat myself. "But the timing's not a problem. Why did you stop by?"
"I heard that you and Warren had an argument... about me," she stuttered out. "I'm sorry if what I said to him this morning... made things harder for you. I just... hadn't expected to see him so soon, so what I was feeling just came out."
"It's alright," I assured her. "Things may be a little more strained now, but I'd probably have reacted the same way if I'd been in your place. So... how do you..."
"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight??" Princess blurted out suddenly.
I was shocked. "Umm... are you sure that's a good idea??" was the only response I could come up with.
"Well, I wasn't thinking of going down to the great hall and rubbing our association in the face of my parents, the council, and half the Castle," she clarified. "But... I want to get to know you better. The hell with it, Rupert there are not quite three years before my wedding date, and I don't want to waste a single day of it."
My spirits fell. "So, is that what you want? To go through with the marriage to Warren, but be with me in the meantime??"
"I don't know, Rupert." Her bright blue eyes focused on me with an almost mesmeric intensity. "But that's my final deadline - whether I'm going to give you up, or ruin a great dream, break two hearts, and make both of our lives hellishly more complicated by defying Watcher tradition. So in the meantime, I plan to seize every moment. Can you understand that??"
"I can," I assured her. "Wait a second... break two hearts??"
"Warren's and my mother's," she clarified with a facial gesture of immeasurable cuteness. "She's that fond of him."
"And... what of your father?" I hazarded. "I know he likes me, but he seemed to disapprove of all the time you were spending with me, before the trial." At the time, I hadn't even known about Princess and Warren, but it was making sense in retrospect.
"I've spoken with him about it today," she said, eyes downcast. "He doesn't approve of my spending time with you, considering the betrothal, but he acknowledges that it is my life to live. He won't forbid it, though he may have a few tricks up his sleeve to push me back towards Warren." She sighed. "And I imagine it shall be the same way about the wedding itself. He won't keep me from breaking it off, even though that would crush all his hopes."
"Okay," I said, trying desperately to change the subject. "Dinner. I'd love to, of course, though I don't know when I'm getting off w-"
"I already spoke with Sir Raleigh," Miranda said, that impish twinkle back in her eye again. "You shall have your liberty at seven o-clock, young mister Giles." She stood up, leaned over the desk to give me a quick kiss on the lips, (and a possibly-inadvertant look down her neckline.) "I shall give you thirty minutes after that to freshen up and change, and then I shall be at your room to fetch you. Until then!!" And then she was gone.
Last night was quite a delight. We had a delicate gourmet supper in a private, well-appointed suite that Princess had apparently reserved for the night, because it wasn't where she had been assigned in the Castle herself. We talked all evening, sharing the important and unimportant details of our lives, our beliefs, our dreams.
The conversation started while we were both cooking, (something it turns out we've both been interested in most of our lives,) and stretched through the meal, continuing as we danced to love songs on a little turntable stereo, (or, for two songs, a phantom orchestra that Princess conjured up with a magical spell.) And we chatted softly while sitting on the loveseat after we were both too tired to keep dancing and before indulging in some things that kept our lips busy in other ways...
We didn't take the physical intimacy too far, though. The fevered ardour that had struck us this morning wasn't there... or if there was, it was being subconsciously repressed. (Plus, Warren's words about 'the passion of the forbidden' were still ringing deep in my mind.) We kissed, and necked a little, and let our hands wander, having fun in all the ways teenagers tend to, but definitely didn't go any beyond that. There would be time. And so when the evening came to an end, I walked Princess to her door, kissed her goodnight, and then went on to my own.
Today has gone much the same as yesterday so far, (excepting the early morning visits and surprise assault from my younger sibling,) but in a rather different order. You see, here in the Castle the watchers work hard but do make time for relaxation as well, and it's fairly traditional to break up the working day. You get to work early and then take several hours off around noon, while it's bright and beautiful outside, then work later into the night to make up for it. So Miranda and I are out enjoying the early afternoon in the Tojo flower garden, finishing off a picnic lunch and trying not to obsess about the future.
In fact, it was while I was setting up lunch that Princess stole my journal and wrote her declaration of love into it, and as I've been writing this entry I've also read some fairly long entries out loud to her. No-one else has ever heard a word out of it, but I want to share everything I think and everything I can feel with her. I think she liked it, and I'm fairly sure that if I don't keep a tight grasp on the diary, she's going to write into it again. To be honest, that sounds good to me. This journal is the story of my life, but Miranda Lindley is a part of my life now, and so it seems fair that she should get to put her own thoughts in.
Well, that sounds like it. We have only fifteen minutes before having to be back at our respective posts, and there are things I want to do that have nothing to do with pen or paper.
May 17th, 1975.
Well, I did it. I bit the bullet and actually spoke with Father today. He was in the Castle Great Hall for breakfast this morning and I went up and asked if I could have a word. He even said yes. Who would have thought it?
For a little bit, we were stiffly polite - the kind of highly repressive decorum we'd gotten so good at between when Mother died and when I took off. And then I went out and asked the big question - if there was any way he could see supporting the transfer of Miranda's betrothal from Warren to me.
The expression on his face quickly became as cold and stiff as stone. "With the situation as it is, Rupert, I don't see that happening, for several reasons. For one, my choosing Warren was a consequence of your own actions, and I don't see any reason to rescue you from them, particularly since you haven't yet earned back my respect. Secondly, to make such a change would cost me face with the watchers, the more so given the scandal surrounding your trial. And thirdly, I happen to know that Merrick Lindley would in no wise support such a maneuver himself. He is interested in the alliance with our family, and he likes you, but he supports Warren in this. As do I."
I was speechless, and Sir Henry Giles shook his head slightly. "We've heard, some, about this sudden epiphany that you and Miss Lindley have had, but if you'll take my advice, you'll put it behind you. Do well in your work with Speaker Raleigh this summer, and if you like I'll see if I can find a match for you too. Let's see, there's..."
At that, I finally found my voice. "N-no! My god, Father, you still don't understand at all. It's not just about having a wife, it's about having found a girl that I can't live without. So..." I fished for something that was suitably impressive and yet wouldn't widen the gulf between myself and Father, and failed miserably. "So... have a nice breakfast." I blushed with embarassment as I strode away.
God, I can't wait to see Miranda.
Click here to go to the fanfic discussion board.
Go back to Buffy backstories.
Or return to Tales of the Scooby Gang.
|
|
|
|
