Fic: The Rhymer's Return (FRC) 1/3

[mythichistorian.livejournal.com]

Title: The Rhymer’s Return
Author: pythia
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: FRC
Spoilers: General
Warnings: Very, very vague reference to mental health issues …
Disclaimers: None of these people are mine. Buffy et al belong to Joss and the rest of those guys. All references to the sterling members of the Hampshire constabulary (and to their procedures) are entirely fictional, and any seeming resemblance will be purely coincidental. 

Summary:

The gifts she made were numbered thrice, beneath the Eildon tree
The price he gave was triple paid: three time three the key.
Three songs for the tongue that cannot lie
Three tears to pierce illusion’s eye
A kiss to tease
A kiss to please
And a kiss that set him free

Notes: A sequel to ‘Seeking the Rhymer’s Gift.’ Both pieces written for the 2010 summer_of_giles event.  Inspirational Illustration posted at the end of the story
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Extract from PC Bell’s Incident report: 14:00, June 22^nd. 

‘While proceeding across Coronation Square on a routine foot patrol, my attention was drawn to the presence of a small crowd (approx 12 people, including three juveniles) gathered at one side of the memorial fountain. As I approached I registered the sound of music – that is, the sound of single male voice accompanied by some sort of stringed instrument. The crowd appeared to be gathered in enjoyment of the performance, rather than in protest or with intent to complain.  I made my way through the crowd and identified the performer as a white, anglo-saxon male, in his mid to late fifties. He looked haggard and was somewhat dishevelled, as if he had been sleeping rough; his hair was tousled, and there was at least a days worth of stubble on his chin. He was wearing scuffed jeans, a well-worn dark sweatshirt, and equally well-worn boots.   In contrast, the guitar in his hands was gleaming and looked expensive; there was intricate inlay on the wood, and from the sound it was producing I deduced that it was a quality instrument and considered the possibility that it may been stolen. 
As the crowd were enjoying the performance I refrained from immediate intervention and spent some time observing the unknown individual. He was clearly aware of having an audience although he paid more attention to his instrument than he did to the crowd. At the end of the song he was rewarded with a small round of applause, which seemed to surprise him – although he did both smile and nod at those people who chose to drop money on the cloth guitar case that sat at his feet. 
I encouraged the crowd to disperse and approached the individual with caution, asking him to identify himself and to show me his busking license. His answers were evasive and bemused. He initially identified himself as Rimer(sp?), then corrected it to Rupert. He denied having a license, or being aware than he needed one. He claimed he was simply trying to obtain sufficient money for ‘a drink, a meal, and a train ticket home’ – although he then proceeded to ask me where he was, and if I could tell him the date. When I informed him of his location, and confirmed both the date and the year, he paled, and started to become agitated, getting to his feet and pushing the guitar into its case. This scattered the money, and he bent to collect it, muttering about needing to get back, and not realising he had been away so long. As this appeared to be a matter of some importance to him, I enquired where he had been, at which point he looked up at me with disconcerting intensity and announced he had been: ‘Away with the fairies.’ On my remonstration at such an unlikely claim, he glared at me and said:  ‘They led me under the hill, and over the meadow. Down the old Elf Road, all the way to the court of the Shidhe. I paid three favours to earn her gifts. I spent three days without food or drink ... and now you tell me three years have passed …’
It was at this point that I decided to call for back-up.’ 

 Report of the custody Sergeant, June 22^nd 15:40 pm. 

 “At 15:10, PC Bell escorted in the gentleman he and PC Higgins had earlier arrested for vagrancy and busking without a license. The man gave his name as Rupert Giles, but had no means of identification on him, and appeared to be in a dazed and highly distracted state. He seemed uncertain of his home address, offering one which he said he had been his place of residence three years ago, and then a telephone number, which he said would reach someone who would know him. He then qualified his statement by stating that that had been three years ago too, and expressed concerns as to whether the person concerned had changed their number, or moved, or was even still alive. I asked if he had a more recent contact who might be willing to vouch for his character and he laughed a little hysterically, insisting that three years was recent for him, that he’d been away, and that his hosts – or kidnappers, his references were not entirely clear – had kept him much longer than he had expected them too. He grew increasingly agitated at my scepticism, insisting that he was telling the truth, and that – as much as he wanted to lie to me and tell me what I wanted to know - he was incapable of doing so.   PC Bell had intimated that he was either on drugs, or else suffering from some kind of mental health condition, so, having decided that further questioning would only agitate the man further, I agreed I would get someone to try the number he had given, and that he might feel a little more co-operative after a short rest and a good cup of tea. His reaction to this was extremely positive; he calmed down immediately and accompanied me to his assigned cell without protest. Having dispatched one of the duty PCs to the canteen to make a fresh brew, I then put in a call to the duty ME and requested that she attend as soon as she was able to.’

 

Continued in Part Two