A/N: For the first half of this chapter, we are going to go back in time and learn a little bit about Meliadoul Tingel's backstory. Try not to judge her too harshly yet, she will grow up to be the bold character we know and love in Tactics. Then, in the second half of the chapter, we return to Ramza and his group on their travels.

Chapter Two

Lady Meliadoul Tingel, called Meli by most of her friends, was known to be a bit of a tomboy at age sixteen.

Many youths came to their castle to apprentice as squires for four years, before they were skilled enough to be allowed to join the Knights Templar of the Church of Glabados, the group which was led by her esteemed father, Lord Vormav Tingel. And even though sexist attitudes were frowned upon by the order, the squires naturally seemed to split into two different cliques socially: the girls versus the boys.

Meliadoul found that she herself was a bit of an oddity, as she seemed to fit in just as easily with either group. For the past two years in the academy, her closest friends had been among the male squires. That was not to say that she had no girlfriends, because she did have a few. But she liked the raucous games the boys played. She liked to race chocobos against them. She was usually part of the group that got in trouble when one of them did something against the rules, like the time Goddard had tried to jump off of a high tree branch onto his chocobo's back, and had instead fallen to the ground and broken his arm.

Meliadoul often found herself the only girl in a gang of boys. And that had always been fine with her, up until now.

Things were starting to get a bit weird, lately. She supposed it was because of growing up. Over the past few months, Meliadoul had suddenly developed a very womanly shape, and her male buddies were definitely noticing, even though she had started to wear thicker clothing to hide the changes.

Meliadoul was actually quite lean, from getting tons of exercise each day. But her chest had recently grown to be quite full. She also had a very round backside, which she had often caught boys and men staring at, even at her young age. It was awkward.

Meliadoul's mother, who had been a remarkably beautiful woman, had died nine years ago, while giving birth to her little brother, Izlude. Meliadoul supposed she was sort of beginning to take after her mother in appearance. Her male friends were starting to flirt with her in earnest, and she was not sure how she felt about it. She mostly ignored their attempts, or put them off with jests.

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Around the time Meliadoul turned eighteen years old, her best friend, a boy called Lodwicke, bluntly asked her if she wanted to go to bed with him.

They were practicing together with their Defender blades, outside of their official classes, out in the yard. Sir Rofel, one of her father's Knights, sat nearby. He was supposed to be supervising this match, since they were using real swords, but he had begun to take a nap against a tree.

Meliadoul crinkled her nose, giving a short laugh. "You and me? No! That would be too strange, even if I did like you in that way." She shoved his shoulder playfully. He was handsome in an almost-pretty manner, but she had never thought of him as more than her friend.

Lodwicke grabbed the hand she had used to shove him. "We shall be sent out to fight in holy wars soon! Honestly, Meli! Do you plan to go to battle still a virgin?"

She glared at him.

"Shall we have to call you Meli the Maiden?" he laughed.

"Oh, shut your mouth, Lodwicke," Meliadoul grumbled. "If I take a man to bed, you can bet it will not be you."

"Anyone you have in mind, then?" Lodwicke asked.

Meliadoul gave him a teasing grin, but did not answer.

Their graduation, when they would officially become Templar Knights, was truly not so far away. Many of her classmates were no longer virgins, and even awkward, shy Goddard had recently bedded Sysley, one of their fellow squires.

Technically, the Church of Glabados decreed that it was the gods' will that people remain chaste before marriage. Yet, it seemed that the Church always turned a blind eye to the acts of its own members. The Templar Knights were never chastised for sexual activity within their ranks… at least, as long as both parties were willing, and no one became pregnant. Anti-contraception potions were readily available from the chemists, so that was typically not an issue. And given the close proximity the young men and women had to each other, training together all day and then living in shared barracks at night, quite a lot of sex ended up occurring. That was no secret.

Things were a little different for Meliadoul. She was, after all, the daughter of the leader of the Knights Templar. She had her own spacious bedroom in the castle, rather than living in the barracks with the others.

Still, she probably could have invited a boy up to her bedroom if she really wanted to. It was not as if she still had a nanny supervising her. But up until now, Meliadoul had been hesitant to take that step. She had grown up hearing the very romantic story of how her own parents met, and it had made her standards for a relationship quite high.

Her mother, Lady Marsilia, had been a common-born foreigner from Ordallia, the country which Ivalice warred with at the time. Marsilia's father was a merchant, and she had traveled with him illegally to Ivalice, where Vormav first laid eyes on her in the market. Marsilia was an exotic beauty, by Ivalician standards. She had had black hair, caramel-colored skin, and an incredibly voluptuous figure, all of which Vormav had found captivating at first sight.

But what had really stolen his heart was the color of her eyes: a bright sky blue that was rarely seen in Ivalice. Vormav claimed he had fallen in love on the spot, and, so he said, Marsilia had also fallen in love with him. He had begged Marsilia's father for her hand in marriage. Vormav had even ended up paying a dowry to get her, instead of the other way around. He had loved her until the day she died, birthing his son.

Meliadoul imagined that when she met the right person, it would feel like being struck by lightning, as her father said he had felt when he first saw her mother. Meliadoul had not felt that for any of the boys she went to school with, yet. She did feel lustful quite often, as everyone else her age did. But she had always held it back. She had kissed a couple of the boys she squired with, just for fun, but that was as far as she had gone, so far.

Now she found that Lodwicke's words about her going into battle a virgin were bothering her. She had never given much thought to that, before now. But she definitely did not want to be stuck with the nickname 'Meli the Maiden'. Good gods.

Maybe she did not need to wait for a figurative lightning bolt to strike her, after all. Maybe simple attraction to a man would have to be enough.

If she could choose anyone in this castle to lay with, she knew who it would be. Sir Percival Kampe was one of the Knights who served directly under her father. He appeared to be about ten years older than Meliadoul, but she thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He had occasionally smiled at her in the past, when her father was not looking. And, he was unmarried.

Now, she was thinking that Sir Percival might be just the right man to relieve her of her virginity, before she graduated as a Divine Knight and was thrown out into the cruel world.

It was not hard to get his attention. Meliadoul had her father's ordinary brown hair and pale skin, but she had been lucky enough to also inherit her mother's icy blue eyes. People told her all the time that her eyes were beautiful. She put them to good use over dinner, glancing longingly out from under her lashes at Percival, who sat a few seats away, across the table. She was careful only to give Percival these looks during moments when her father was not watching them.

Meliadoul lingered over dinner for longer than she normally would. At this table sat only her father, Sir Percival, Sir Kletian, Sir Rofel, a few more of her father's highest-ranking knights, some of the wives of the knights, eleven-year-old Izlude, and herself. Meliadoul usually raced through dinner and then left to spend the evening with her friends. But she wanted to be certain Percival was almost done eating before she got up.

She gave him one last alluring look before she stood and walked out of the room. As she had hoped, only a minute later, Percival quickly caught up to her in the hallway outside the private dining chamber.

"Lady Meliadoul," he greeted her.

"Sir Percival." She smiled.

"Mayhap I am mistaken, but I believed you were trying to catch my eye over dinner," Percival said.

Meliadoul took a deep breath. She looked up at his handsome features. "I was," she whispered.

Percival put a knowing hand on her arm, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Would you like to come with me to my bedchambers?" he asked.

Meliadoul hid her nervousness. She had suspected that Percival would respond positively to her flirting, but she had not expected things to move quite this quickly. She nodded anyway.

"Do not tell your father," Percival said, as they walked down the hall.

It was very dark inside Percival's chambers, and he did not take the time to light even a single candle. He grabbed her tightly, while yanking her tunic loose from the waistband of her skirt. His hand was quickly up inside the tunic, squeezing each of her breasts in turn, as casually as if he were checking pieces of fruit for ripeness.

"Gods, Meliadoul," he panted.

He was now pushing her backwards onto his bed, even as he reached to shove her skirts up above her waist. Meliadoul was not sure what to do or say. This was not how she had imagined this would happen. He had not even kissed her! He certainly did not seem to care whether she enjoyed this or not.

And try as she might, she really was not able to find a single thing to enjoy. Why did people talk about this as if it was so wonderful? It hurt, and it was definitely not romantic.

When he was finally finished, Percival rolled off of her. Meliadoul was groping around the bed trying to find her underwear. Percival lit a candle.

"Gods! What a mess!" he exclaimed in disgust. The light had revealed that Meliadoul's thighs, and a spot on his bedsheets, were spattered in blood.

Percival put a hand to his forehead. "Oh. Was that your first time?"

Meliadoul only managed to nod. She did not trust her voice not to crack right now, if she spoke.

Percival immediately became defensive when he saw the miserable look on her face. "Do not start whining now! You knew what you were asking for, coming to my bed." He grabbed her hand and pulled her up, mechanically helping to straighten her disheveled skirt and tunic.

"You should go," he said, coldly. "And do not tell your father you were here."

Meliadoul was unsteady on her feet as she made her way back to her own bedroom. She felt sort of sick. And ashamed. That had been nothing short of awful. What in hell had she been thinking?

She took a moment to gather herself, before summoning a maid to her. She asked the maid to go to the soldiers' barracks and fetch the squire Lodwicke to her room. She felt like she needed a friend right now, and of all her friends, Lodwicke was probably the one who knew her best.

When Lodwicke arrived, curiously looking around her room, Meliadoul collapsed on his shoulder, weeping.

He was surprised. He had never seen Meliadoul cry.

"I did a stupid thing," she sobbed to him.

Lodwicke listened as she haltingly told him about her encounter with Sir Percival, and how it had left her feeling very remorseful.

"Aw, Meli," he said, stroking her back. "I told you, you should have just done it with me."

"Be quiet, Lodwicke!" she exclaimed, with her face still pressed into his shoulder.

"All right, all right, sorry!" he replied.

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Ramza knew he was incredibly lucky to have such faithful friends standing by his side, through the many trials he faced.

Especially Agrias. Despite his occasional lurking feeling that something about their relationship was not quite what he had always imagined, Ramza was determined to rise to the challenge she presented him, and be the sort of man Agrias needed him to be.

But, gods, once they were outside of the tent/bedroom, it could be really difficult.

During their long journey to Orbonne Monastery, with Alma in tow, Agrias was so moody.

Ramza himself was often a serious person, whenever something important was happening. That was a large part of what attracted Agrias to him, in the first place. But Ramza also liked to have fun and be a bit silly, when circumstances allowed him to. This part of his personality, Agrias did not approve of. It made things tense between them at times.

Whenever he ordered milk at a tavern, Agrias just glowered at him.

It did not help that Ramza was acting extra goofy lately, to distract himself from all of the horrible things that had happened over the past couple months.

Mustadio had quickly become Ramza's best friend, and partner-in-crime. On their travels, Mustadio rolled along a cart full of all the smaller bits of machinery and oddities he could transport from Goug. Working on and tinkering with them gave him something to do in the evenings, and Ramza liked to join in. They did not even know the purpose of most of the items, but it was fun to try to figure out.

In addition to fiddling with the cart full of machinery, he and Mustadio sometimes played pranks on each other. Agrias had given them the scolding of a lifetime, the day Mustadio intentionally shocked Ramza with some sort of electrocution device, after sneaking up behind him.

Agrias had not cared that both Ramza and Mustadio thought it was funny. She was disgusted that they would perform such life-threatening pranks, when they were already living in danger every day. She told Ramza she was sick of the childish behavior, and she wished he would spend less time huddled with Mustadio.

Ramza did not react well to this sort of demand. He had never been what anyone would call 'obedient'. He had not even managed to stay put when Dycedarg had ordered him and Delita and Algus to remain on guard duty at Igros Castle. Ramza loved his mother dearly, but he had spent much of his childhood hiding behind trees in the woods whenever she came looking for him, just so she could not give him orders.

Now Agrias's haranguing of him was reminding him of his mother's scolding. To pacify Agrias, he eventually half-heartedly agreed that he would try to better monitor his behavior. He did hate to disappoint her, especially after all the support she had shown him in these trying times.

But Agrias did not seem to understand that beneath his placid exterior, Ramza was just a clownish nerd. After she demanded that he spend less time with Mustadio, he found himself spending more hours with Mustadio, instead.

He did not need a new mother.

Ramza also had to admit that he did not feel as in love with Agrias as he ought to by now. Sex with her did feel great, and he enjoyed being close with her in their tent. But it seemed like more often than not, by the end of each night, they ended up in an argument over something stupid he had supposedly done. And she held her grudges against him for days on end.

Agrias was not easy to keep happy. Or maybe it was just something about him, which constantly displeased her. He did not recall her being this grouchy before their relationship began.

The final straw came on the day he and Mustadio were fiddling around with an item from Mustadio's cart, which was labeled with the word 'firework'. They had tried all manner of things to get the item to reveal its secrets. Finally, Mustadio decided they should simply acknowledge the word 'fire' printed on the label, and set it on fire to see what would happen.

The object essentially exploded, in a fantastic burst. Mustadio's hand was pretty badly burned. A large flaming piece of the thing had also landed on Ramza's head, singeing part of his hair off. It had burned right down to his scalp, and he now had a bald circular patch, roughly one inch in diameter, on the left top part of his head. Considering that the skin of his scalp was burned, he was pretty sure that patch of hair was never going to grow back.

Ramza and Mustadio had howled with laughter, even while jumping around brushing sparks off of themselves, and clutching their burned areas. It was nothing a Potion could not relieve.

Agrias had not found this funny. She had scowled at them the entire time. Ramza had never claimed to understand the minds of women, but he thought she was being a bit unreasonable. After all, even Lavian was over there laughing so hard that she had had to sit down on the ground. Why could Agrias not join in their fun?

After Ramza had helped clean up the debris, and taken a Potion to heal the pain of the burn on his head, he joined Agrias in their tent for the night. He bent to kiss her, but she turned her head to the side and refused.

"Oh, come now!" Ramza said. "What is it, Agrias? Does my bald patch disgust you? Look, if I just part my hair on the other side, then you cannot even see it anymore!" With a mischievous grin, he flipped his shaggy blond hair over, so that it was parted on the right side. "Now, do I get a kiss?"

"Look," Agrias said solemnly, "we need to talk, Ramza."

Oh, gods.

"I think you know as well as I do, that this… relationship… is not truly working, between us. I admire a lot of things about you, Ramza, I really do. But I also rather think this was a mistake." She looked down at the floor, before saying, "I want to start sleeping in my own tent, again. I hope you understand. And I hope we remain good friends, as we were before… this."

He had been dumped.

The odd thing was, Ramza sort of felt relieved. Agrias had been right, that things were 'not truly working' between them. He would miss a lot of things about having her in his tent, the parts that had worked. He thought that he would probably feel lonely sometimes, with her absence at night. But he would also feel a lot more at peace, knowing that no one was going to pick an argument with him each and every night, or try to tell him what he was or was not allowed to do with his free time.

It seemed Agrias had not been his Guinevere, after all. As things stood, he was starting to question the validity of old tales like those, anyway. In his experience so far, women were not shining beacons of all things noble and pure and beautiful. It seemed they were, in fact, a strange combination of both good and bad. Much the same as men, although with a lot more inexplicable moodiness thrown in. Maybe he had been silly for seeking some elusive "perfect" mate.

He had bigger problems to focus on, anyway. He would be kept distracted from dwelling on the fact that Agrias had quit him. They were not far from Orbonne Monastery now, and it was imperative that he retrieve the Virgo zodiac stone before it could fall into the wrong hands.

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