For some reason these are a lot longer than my previous vignettes were (the first two, anyway, I think the next one'll be shorter). It's probably got something to do with them starting out at about the same length, but then, me adding the Delita/Ovelia parts at a later date.

Vignette 2 – Assassin?

The Boar's Head Inn, Dorter, Early Evening.

After such a hasty departure from Orbonne, they'd known that they would need to replenish supplies in Dorter but had intended to do that quickly and move straight on, chasing Delita and the Princess. However, they'd been set upon by a band of local cut-throats almost as soon as they'd entered the city gates. After only a token protest, even Lady Agrias had reluctantly agreed to staying in Dorter at an inn, rather than pressing on for what, after all, would only be an hour or so of daylight. She admitted that having a healthy squad was at least as important as having one only very slightly closer to their goal.

After fully healing each other, everyone had taken advantage of the facilities and had bathed, easing their battle-induced aches. The three women had taken their time over their baths and had then sat close to the fire in their room, for a time, to dry their hair somewhat. The men, on the other hand, had rushed their baths and had gone down quickly to the common room to eat.

Almost an hour after their own entrance, Ramza watched the women come into the room. Ladd was at the bar replenishing their drinks and Gaffgarion was at his own table in the corner, cuddling with a likely lass. Ramza sighed; the only time his commander ever looked like less of the miserable old arsehole he was, was when he was wenching. Could he really continue working for this crass, repellent man?

To his amazement, the three women approached his table. Then he realised he shouldn't be surprised - three attractive young ladies alone in an inn, even one with a good reputation, like the Boar's Head, were little better than prey to the wrong kind of man... at that thought, his eyes flickered briefly, again, to his employer. The ladies had their swords, of course, but already having male company would just make things easier for them. He sprang to his feet and gave a small bow, as they approached - a courtesy that had been instilled so deeply, it was as natural as breathing to him. Alicia and Lavian glanced at each other, then smiled prettily at him, but the Lady Agrias just glowered balefully.

He courteously helped the two younger women to their seats but was able to imagine just what reception this would have had, had he tried it on their captain. He turned and caught Ladd's eye as the other man left the bar, and he gestured at the women. Ladd turned back to the bar and ordered more drinks.

Ladd came back with a tray with glasses and pitchers of beer, cider and wine and a separate mug for Ramza and they sat around talking about trivialities, while the women waited for their food. Ramza found Lady Agrias watching him speculatively, more than once, as she ate. On the fourth time he found her doing so, she suddenly said:

"So, a dual caster?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Er... yes, well... you saw that today. My mother was a Master white mage, but she could also use time magicks; she served as a support mage, in the war. I think I just inherited some of her abilities, only, I've a better grasp of black than time magick, so I tend to use it more." He gave her a tentative half-smile - it wasn't returned.

"But that wasn't white magick you were using to heal Alicia and I when we got back to the inn this afternoon. I'm fairly sure that was a Chakra." There was accusation in her voice. He looked at her, nonplussed; so did everyone else.

"My Lady, I don't understand the problem. A Chakra doesn't use up magical potential, in fact it restores it, and it doesn't cost money, so I tend to use them for most healing, off the battle-field." He tried an uneasy smile, again, but her face stayed like granite.

"So... what other skills do you have?" Her voice was pretty stony too.

"Monk-wise, it's pretty much just Chakra... oh and I'm trying to learn Revive, which should please the grumpy old badger." He nodded in Gaffgarion's direction.

It was a rather good description for the man, Agrias thought, with his salt-and-pepper streaked hair, albeit it was somewhat too polite for such a man.

"He hates spending money and 'Phoenix Downs aren't ten-a-gil'." Ramza pushed his mop of hair out of his face as he mimicked the harsh voice of his employer, watching her warily, trying to see if he had given her an adequate answer. Apparently not.

"And what else have you trained in?"

"Physically, I have squire's skills, obviously, but I also know some knight's abilities, archery, those martial arts... and a little thievery." His voice was hesitant - he suspected that she wouldn't approve of that last. "Magically, I'm a little more limited - aside from some chemistry, it's mostly white and black magick, though I have a small amount of skill in the mystic arts too."

Agrias looked at the boy, trying to assess his honesty. Then she shrugged and asked the question that had been lurking in the back of her mind since she first saw him cast Thundara that afternoon.

"So... let's just imagine you had been sent to assassinate someone... you've a wide range of skills for it." Agrias said, quietly. Everyone at the table froze. Ramza just sat with his mouth hanging open.

"Who... who am I supposed to want to assassinate?" He asked, eventually, his voice wary and pitched a little high.

Agrias didn't know whether to feel reassured or applaud his acting skills, given that reaction.

"Oh, I don't know... the Princess?" She said. Ramza's jaw nearly hit his chest this time.

"Close your mouth, boy; you'll catch flies." Came Gaffgarion's slightly slurred voice from just behind her. "I'm off to bed," He had come up to their table, each arm around a girl's waist. Each was easily young enough to be his daughter, if not his granddaughter. Agrias just looked away.

"I'd offer to share, but you seem to have enough wenches yourselves. Are all three yours, Ladd? I mean, Ramza's a useless bastard. It's not as if he'd know what to do with them, luscious though they are." Agrias bristled, but Ramza had jumped to his feet before she could retort.

"Sir, that is enough! You've had too much to drink and you need to apologise to the ladies." That surprised Agrias, and she could see that emotion reflected on he faces of the other two Lionsguards. Ramza had also been insulted, and it was the sort of insult - a slur on his masculinity - that most men resented sorely, yet it was only them he was defending. An odd boy, this one.

Gaffgarion only laughed and made his unsteady way to the door with his girls. Ramza sat back down and put his head in his hands. Ladd glanced worriedly at his friend then, inexplicably, moved the three pitchers of alcohol to the far end of the table.

"My gods, I hope he's paying them well... although nothing could ever be enough!" Lavian said quietly with a shudder, a look of supreme distaste on her face.

"Oh yes! It's the one thing he's always happy to put his hand in his pocket for." Ladd spoke into his beer mug, sounding bitter, then downed the remainder of its contents. Ramza's head shot up from his hands, addressing the other man, though it was loud enough for the women to hear, too.

"I can't do this any more! This is my last job for him! If I wanted to work for an unprincipled, dishonourable wretch I'd have just gone home! And what you said..." he turned to Agrias "Just so wrong! Mad! I don't know how anyone could say something so stupid..." He jumped up from his seat so fast that it fell. He righted it and, even in his distress, made a brief bow to the ladies.

"I'm going for a walk, and I apologise, Lady Agrias, that wasn't at all polite of me." He muttered, then left. Agrias watched him go, thinking hard.

"Is he always this... volatile?" She asked Ladd eventually. He gaped at her.

"Volatile? My lady, what do you expect? He's just found out that his best friend, who he thought had gone to the grave over a year ago, blaming him - without the least cause - for the death of his sister, is actually alive. On top of that, Delita has defected to the Southern Sky and kidnapped the Princess. Then you accuse him of being an assassin. I assume you think he's actually working with Delita? An assassin? Ramza? Don't make me laugh. That laddie's more straight-laced and honourable than any man I've ever met. Plus, he's meek as a lamb off the battlefield.

"And I mean it about honourable, by the way; it's only been two months, but working for a bastard like Gaffgarion's eating him up inside. And, you know, I'm not exactly proud of what I do for a living, either, but we each have to get the money to put food in our mouths and clothes on our backs, somehow." Ladd got to his feet as well.

"I'd better go and check on him." He muttered and left the room.

Agrias could see looks of accusation directed at her by her two subordinates. This time, all three women turned and watched Ladd go.

"One of us should follow them, try to find out what they are up to." Agrias said quietly. She saw the other two look at each other and, without even trying to disguise it, Alicia rolled her eyes at Lavian.

"Fine! I will. You two had better not stay in here drinking by yourselves, though." She snapped, then slipped out of the common room and headed out of the inn, realising that she had no way of knowing how to find the two men if they had strayed far.

She didn't have to try, there was a bench at the far side of the inn's coach-yard and there were Ramza and Ladd. Ramza sat at one end of the bench with his head in his hands again and Ladd was sitting with one foot resting on the other knee, head back, looking up at the stars. She laced her dark blue jacket right up to the neck so that none of her white shirt would show, slipped into the shadows and moved carefully closer.

"No!" Ramza was saying. "Just no! I'll happily follow you if you think we can make it on our own, but I'm never going to be the one in charge, again!"

"I heard your old squad were totally loyal to you, so why not at least try to get in touch with them, see if we could set ourselves up as an elite mercenary unit. I'm good, but you're better, and I heard they were all approaching your level of skill. Come on, laddie, we could do this, but it has to be you who leads. I'm best at just being the muscle; we both know that. You must want to see your old team again, surely! Go on." This wasn't quite what she had hoped to hear about, Agrias thought, though it was interesting that Ramza had led a team before now. Mercenaries... or assassins perhaps? Perhaps he was older than he looked and admitted to. Ramza raised his head, his face bleak.

"Oh for heaven's... Fine! One of them's from Dorter - she's probably back with her family. I tell you what, we'll go there now, tonight. If I'm very lucky, she'll only call me a treacherous bastard, beat me up and throw me out on my ear. Once she does that, will you drop this ludicrous idea?"

Agrias tailed them down the street, heading to the merchants' quarter. The further they went, the more luxurious the houses became – if the house they wanted was around here, perhaps these two hadn't been lying about their backgrounds as old Akademicians. If they were what they said they were, then she was wasting her night following around a pair of "perpetual squires". Damn it all to hell!

"Look, Ramza." She heard Ladd say suddenly. "Lavian said, as we walked together this morning, that she's never seen Lady Agrias so worried and she's known her for years. I don't think she'd have said what she did, if she was in her right senses."

Right senses? Huh!... Oh well, her nurse had always warned her, when she was a little girl, that evesdroppers never heard any good of themselves. She looked around - this was definitely the most opulent part of town. So, all right, it was looking more and more as if the two young men were telling the truth about their backgrounds. That didn't have to mean that one or both of them wasn't a damned assassin!

"You know, she doesn't seem like a bad person, she's just... intense and... well... really really upset, like I said. I told her straight, that you were no assassin." Ladd went on.

"And I'm sure that made it all better." Ramza replied, drily.

"Well, no, but it can't have hurt, after all." Ladd said, looking uncomfortable.

"You're right and thanks." Ramza said, stopping to grip the other's shoulder briefly. Agrias knew, for most men, that was practically a hug. Hell, for her that was closer to a hug than she'd had in a while.

"And Delita... we'll catch up with him and we can find out what the hell is going on there too, you can be sure of it." Ladd's tone was hesitant.

"Okay, okay, just stop trying to cheer me up. I might have to confront Hildegarde any minute and I need some time to prepare myself; the girl has a temper. I was serious when I said I expect to get beaten to a bloody pulp. Tell me you have a couple of Hi-Potions somewhere on you." Ladd felt in his pockets.

"Three, no, wait a minute, only one, the others are an ordinary Potion and Eye Drops."

"Can't be a bad thing, since she may try to scratch my eyes out." Ramza sighed, but then gave a lop-sided grin.

"Supposing she doesn't really try to maim or kill me, it will be good to see her. Always difficult to predict with Hildy, though." Ramza said thoughtfully, as they turned into the driveway of an enormous, imposing house. He looked up at the grand town-house, set in compact but immaculate grounds, then down at himself, slightly troubled.

"I suppose I have to be glad we had time for a bath, but I should have thought about our clothes... Maybe we should go round to the servants' entrance."

"For the gods' sake, man, remember who you really are and march up to the front door. Think back to being the arrogant young scion of a great house and just do it!" Agrias frowned at that and scrutinised what she could see of Ramza – was there something familiar about the boy? She was of sufficiently high rank, herself, that she knew members of most of the "great houses" in western and central Ivalice.

"Yes, yes." Ramza muttered and walked up to the door, pulling his shoulders back and lifting his chin.

Agrias realised, for the first time, that he must be a few inches taller than her - his usual slumped posture and defeated attitude had misled her into thinking he was a small man whereas he was actually of about average height. Squaring his shoulders had also drawn attention to them. He was broad enough, that the boy might actually be considered quite muscular, which tied in with the claims he had made about his wide ranging physical skills earlier in the evening.

A butler answered - fine clothes, arrogant face. What she could see of Ramza's face didn't just match the arrogance, it outdid it.

"I'd like to speak to Miss Hildegarde, please, I'm an old school-fellow of hers." He said in an authoritative tone his accent just a fraction more elevated than usual. The butler looked him up and down, clearly taking it all in.

"I don't think she's at home... sir." Which could easily be translated by all of them as "whether she's in or not, I doubt she would want to receive the likes of you!"

"Well..." The pause was fractional. "In that case, may I leave my card?" Card? Yes, because sellswords carried calling cards like gentlemen... or scions of a great house. Hmm... She watched Ramza pull out a handsome pocket book and a pencil. From the shadows, she tried to crane to see the embossed initials, but his thumb partially obscured it and she could only make out most of an "R" - which was useless. He scrawled a few words on the back of the card and sent it in.

The men strolled slowly, as they made their way back to the inn. Agrias found the slow pace aggravating, at least until Ladd asked one of the questions she wanted answers for.

"So you have calling cards that say "Ramza Lugria, mercenary" on them?"

"Don't be daft! It was one of my last old ones. Hildy doesn't know me as Lugria, after all." Was all the answer Ramza gave. Ladd just shrugged and grunted and that was that. Agrias had to stop herself from grinding her teeth in frustration – though they weren't all the same ones, this excursion had left her with just as many unanswered questions as ever.

Araguay Woods, 23 miles East of Dorter, late evening

Ovelia and her captor had spent the day in stony silence, except for when the chocobo that she had been riding, while he led it, had stumbled and thrown her, late morning. The poor beast had squawked pitifully but she, essentially unhurt, had scrambled to her feet.

Seeing her rise and begin to brush her dress down, which he seemed to take as a sign that she was uninjured, her kidnapper had turned to the chocobo, which was still bawling out raucous squawks. She heard him swear quietly but virulently, suddenly showing a strong accent that she thought was from western Gallione. He had knelt by the bird, running a hand gently over its lower leg. The poor beast squawked louder and made as if to peck him as his hand reached its ankle. He cursed again.

She heard him mutter the word "broken".

He went round to its head and spoke low and soothingly while he stroked its poll, then he got up, stepped back and, looking away from the poor animal, which was still writhing in pain, called down what she recognised as a Cleansing Strike, to put it out of its misery. She'd had no idea that her kidnapper was a Holy Knight, like Agrias.

"Come, your Highness. I'm afraid you'll have to walk now. Will you take my arm?" He'd said, as he shouldered the packs, after dumping the chocobo fodder to lighten them a little.

She'd refused, though later in the afternoon, she'd been forced to accept that help and more, as her unsuitable footwear and clothing impeded their progress.

Sitting by the fire, exhausted, she didn't argue about eating her rations that night. He seemed very quiet this evening, there were no sarcastic comments and no attempts at conversation. After most of a day without speaking Ovelia, tired though she was, felt like shrieking, just to fill the silence.

"Do you have a name, sir?" She found herself asking.

"Delita... Delita Heiral" His voice practically screamed his own weariness.

"Ser Delita?" She was curious to know whether the knight's garb was a disguise or if he was entitled to wear it.

"Yes, your Highness." Of course, there was no guarantee he was not lying. Then again, being able to access the power of Holy Sword techniques practically guaranteed that someone would have been prepared to knight him.

"And you are part of the Order of the Southern Sky?"

"Mmm." He gestured at his cloak and shield, both of which bore the Order's symbols. He really wasn't interested in talking to her, this evening, was he?

"Yet you have the slight hint of a Gallione accent, if I don't mistake."

"Yes, my lady."

"That's somewhat unusual, for a lackey of Goltanna's." Her voice was questioning and slightly contemptuous.

"Indeed, Highness." His tone said he'd brook no further probing on that point.

"So..." She cast around for something else to ask him about. She could just say "tell me about yourself" but she doubted it would elicit much response. Yet she did want... needed to know more about him. If she could find a chink in his metaphorical armour she might gain a better understanding of what the hell was happening and why.

"So you grew up in Gallione with your parents and grandmother, you mentioned. Any brothers or sisters?"

"A baby brother who died when he was little more than an infant and a sister, fourteen months my junior. She's also dead now, though." His tone was carefully empty of emotion and he didn't look at her.

She studied him, suddenly realising that he was probably barely older than she was. So she'd been kidnapped by a youth of, at most, eighteen. It was the danger of her situation that had allowed her to overlook that fact before now. Could she use this to her advantage? She'd been told she was pretty, if only she knew a bit more about men, perhaps she could have flirted, won him over, gained his trust. Instead she'd just have to carry on her inept interrogation.

"Your grandmother sounds as if she was a very thrifty woman, Ser Delita?" He stiffened and looked confused for a moment, then he too must have remembered what he had said the night before, because he visibly relaxed.

"That isn't unusual in a farm-wife, my lady." He said.

"Farm-wife? I thought you said you were a knight." Her voice was sceptical.

"I have been knighted – I am a Holy Knight, after all – but I'm a commoner... by birth." He was good at keeping his voice calm and neutral-sounding, she noted.

"That's also unusual – a commoner becoming a Knight."

"I'm not complaining, Highness, but to what do your inquiries appertain?"

Appertain? There were odd contradictions here. He was remarkably well-educated and well-spoken, if his claims about his birth were true. If she'd been forced to guess, she'd have imagined he was, perhaps, the younger son of a highly-placed nobleman.

"You've kidnapped me, I'm merely trying to understand you, understand why you'd do that." She said, trying to keep as calmly serene as a princess should.

"Then simply ask me questions about that. I'm happy to answer what I'm able." He yawned, then apologised from behind the hand still covering his mouth, but he had already set her off doing the same.

"You said yesterday that you had saved my life. Would you care to explain that extraordinary assertion." Her voice had lost all claim to serenity – she thought that "cold and waspish" might be a better description of her tone.

"You said you didn't believe me, Princess." He yawned again. Again, she responded to that in kind.

"I don't." She said, hand still over her mouth. He gave her a long, considering look.

"You know," he said slowly, "I'm very tired, so are you and it's a very, very long story. I'll tell you as we walk tomorrow. Right now, I think we both should get to bed."

Author's Note:

The butler at Hildy's house has only been in the family's service for about six month, hence Ramza not being recognised. He stayed there for a couple of nights, only a year-and-a-bit ago, after all, so if it had been the same butler, then as the leader of the squad and the highest-born member of the group, Ramza probably ought to have been recognised. That bit was written from an Agrias PoV, though, so she couldn't know all that.

There's no question that Agrias is paranoid, but I don't think that's a bad trait in a bodyguard, so, as I suggested before, I don't think she's particularly wrong to be extremely suspicious of Ramza (and Ladd, to a lesser extent).

The Chocobo that Delita puts out of its misery is one that was given to him by Lord Barbaneth, shortly before the old Lord's death. He went and "retrieved" it from the Eagrose Mansion stables, in the dead of night, about a week after Ziekden Fortress (he also went into the house and took the picture of his parents he kept on his bedside). He likes the birds in general and was very fond of this one, in particular. That's the reason he's prepared to completely ignore Ovelia in favour of the bird, it's also, partly, why he's so morose that evening.

(I have my reasons for sticking to an Ovelia or Agrias PoV, on these parts, but it does have its drawbacks when it comes to exposition! I decided I should probably stop continually switching between perspectives, but I wonder if I may have to rethink that, as I think, for a "snapshot" vignette like this, that may be the only way to give adequate explanations of what's going on.)