Author: Treesh Aradia

Email:

Disclaimer:

Characters are not mine. I own nothing but the little plot bunnies gone astray in my lil ol' head. Everything else is Square's etc.

Pairing:

Eventual Selfer/ Selpher/ Selphie-Seifer. You get the picture.

Summary:

Commander Almasy has the daunting task of protecting a Lady and her lady-in-waiting through harsh Trabian winter. AU.

Reviews are necessary for chapter continuation. : p

The Witch's Last Festival

PROLOGUE

The woods of the Trabian forest stretched far and wide and on the outer sides of the dense forest were the Trabian Rivers that started out at the western end of the area before ending in a hundred meters drop off at the eastern tip in what was the 'Great Queen's Fall'.

But the man seated on his mount could not care less if it was called the Great Queen's Fall or if it was Lucifer's Fall-on-his-arse For the Oblivious. As the sections of the river were rarely ever known beforehand until it was too late, and any unlucky adventurer was already halfway sailing through the swift and violent rapids before the waterfall could even be anticipated, death was almost always a given.

On his steed, the man had more immediate concerns than something so far from his stand. In the harsh Trabian Winter, he was more worried about frostbite setting in, perhaps even where he most did not want it. It was true. It could happen - he could attest to it. He had lived through some of the most frightening conditions during the siege of the Shumi Coasts, and he had seen what the snow did to one of his men, Eric of Tear's Point. The poor man's wife had welcomed half a man home when the battle was done.

Looking heavenwards he groaned silently. A storm was coming.

The sky looked as drab as the mission he was undertaking. The heavy, dark clouds were starting to roll in, combining to form a single powerful entity that would cause him and his men a lot of inconvenience. Not just the direct inconveniences of traveling in the rain, or trying to set up a dry camp in the storm. No, those were familiar. Expected. He could deal with them. It was the prospect of the indirect inconveniences involving a certain carriage they were escorting that was making him grit his teeth.

Or more specifically, its passengers. He did not want to imagine the rumpus her maid would cause if her lady were to be caught under the cruel storm. He could only imagine what it would do to her fair lady's wonderful golden hair.

Fair young lady Kramer, with eyes that sparkled and demeanor so friendly, she was so beautiful, both inside and out, that Seifer had heard many called her Lady Joie de Vivre

However, the young lady in the carriage had seemed rather aloof. Seifer guessed it was because of the exhausting ride and left it at that. He had other concerns. Like the impending storm and the detrimental effects it might have on the Lady.

Or so that cantankerous wench of a maid would say.

Seifer Almasy could hardly believe a lady, royalty no less, could stomach her annoying lady in waiting for so long as she had, without so much as a sigh. Odd.

Gently pulling back the reins of his pure bred stallion, he stopped its gait and dismounted the white steed, patting the beautiful beast with absent admiration for the almost metallic sheen of its gleaming coat.

"We ride no further. We will wait a night for the storm to pass." He turned back to the dirt path ahead, waiting for the men to stop and gather the things they might need to set up camp. He was unaware of the girl who had just stepped out of the halted coach

Walking towards Seifer, the young woman spoke urgently. "Sir, we have to proceed. The plains of Trabia will protect us, I am sure of it! We need to travel further, stopping will only hinder our progress," the petite slip of a girl with verdant eyes urged, right to his face, honesty and something else evident on her face.

Looking at her with distaste, Seifer merely tipped his nose upward even more. He was afraid of this, the maid and her insignificant remarks. Ever since the start of the journey, she had been yapping and yammering, much to Seifer's dismay. He only had himself to blame for thinking her rather good-looking and docile at first, an impression sadly distorted the minute she started talking, and talking. It was pure luck he had managed to ignore her and her little girly yippy yaps for as long as he had. Thank heavens it was directed to her poor Lady.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were in charge of this expedition. But I do know better, and I'm the one the Hand sent to command his soldiers! Now, who sent you? And the head maid doesn't count."

"Why you impertinent horse troll! How dare you speak to me like that! I think you shoul-"

Seifer's bark was anything but kind. "I should what? Listen to a maid?"

The girl stared at him silently, ire in her narrowed eyes. Seifer shook his head, "Now, please move out of my way, you are hindering my progress."

Seifer smirked as he heard her cry of outrage, uncaring as he moved to help his men set up camp.

Selphie was not amused. Or impressed. In fact, she was stark raving mad.

Who the hell does he think he is?

Apparently, not only was Quistis right, everyone back at King Loire's castle was too. Sir Seifer was a right bastard. A talented killing machine, but a bastard nonetheless. Figuratively speaking at least.

Selphie chided herself for foolishly thinking she could talk sense into the man without being at the receiving end of his acerbic barbs. She should have listened to them. And known better.

Stomping into the carriage, she failed to notice the slight smile Quistis was giving her.

"Not a word, Quis," Selphie said glumly to her tall blonde friend.

"Alright then, I guess an 'I told you so' is out of the question." Quistis tried to cover her laugh with her hand at Selphie's little frown and pout.

"Fine, I get the picture. I should have known better, blah blah blah," Selphie said as she perched herself on the red velvet cushions. "I can't believe how arrogant he is. Did you hear him holler? Did you?!" Selphie demanded furiously.

Quistis nodded. Everyone had probably heard but they were just too kind to comment. It wasn't like Seifer was trying his hardest not to talk loudly. "Well, he would probably treat you better if he knew you were Lord Kramer's daughter."

Selphie shook her head. "He should treat everyone better, and not because they're his equal."

"He does treat the bar maids especially well, if what Helga said was true."

Selphie rolled her eyes at what the kind elderly cook had said about the commander, head falling onto Quistis' shoulder. "That's only because he gets to use them after he uses their pub!"

Both girls laughed at that, before Quistis got serious again.

"Well, he might be right, there is a storm coming. Maybe it's best if we do stop for the night. He is after all, experienced in the great outdoors." Both of them knew the tale of how Seifer had camped in winter terrain with nothing but his battle garb during the month long skirmish just between the Trabian and Shumi Valleys.

"But Quistis, you know why we need to go back. I need to know if my mother is alright," Selphie explained, playing with her hands like a little girl. Which she was in a way, for she was always protected and had rarely been out of both kingdom's confines to really experience life.

Quistis sighed, knowing how upset her friend really was upon receiving news from Lord Kramer of her mother's illness. However she also knew they were too young to be going against a veteran soldier's orders, though they were but a few years younger than Sir Seifer's one and twenty years of age.

Quistis wished she could do something for her troubled friend, but the only solace Selphie's lady in waiting could offer was a shoulder to cry on.

And the pretense that she was the real McCoy should there be any trouble.

A/N: Like it? Review and tell me. Duh.