A/N: Hi everyone, hope you're enjoying this story! This is my second update in a couple days, so please go back and read Chapter 7 before this one, if you missed it!

Chapter Eight

The group continued on their traveling schedule, intent on Igros. The next several days were spent marching, while the evenings were spent lounging around complaining about the blisters on their feet.

Well… Meliadoul and Mustadio complained a lot, at least. Most of the others seemed to have more dignity than that. One evening, while they sat near the cart, Mustadio had offered to rub Meliadoul's feet for her. She had almost said yes, because they ached like crazy, and a foot rub sounded wonderful. But on her other side, Ramza had caught her eye.

There was something about Ramza's expression, and the seriousness in his deep brown eyes as he glanced at her, that made her decide to politely decline Mustadio's offer.

Meliadoul had never needed to force her own team to march so much, when she was a squad leader. Even when they had needed to travel great distances, they had used chocobos, and proudly taken the main roads.

That was not really an option for Ramza's team. A group of over ten people on chocobos would attract notice from everyone they passed. Not a great idea for wanted heretics. Plus, it would be difficult to lead chocobos through some of the difficult terrain they traveled in order to avoid crossing directly through cities and towns.

Ramza spent the next few evenings monitoring Meliadoul's perusal of the Germonic Scriptures. He did insist that she sit beside him the whole time she held the book, but he tried not to be too overbearing otherwise.

Honestly, it did not make much of a change to Ramza's evening routine. He still sat next to the cart full of machines, and tinkered while he talked to Mustadio. Only now, Meliadoul sat on his other side, reading the book.

Ramza was often tempted to try putting an arm around her shoulders again, even with Mustadio watching. But he never quite summoned the courage to do it. Funny how it was easier to put an arm around a pretty woman right after the stress of a battle with a crazed Sorcerer-time-mage.

Meliadoul sometimes pointed out notable passages in the Scriptures to him and Mustadio. When she touched a spot on a page, Ramza occasionally rested his fingers on top of hers for a moment. He had no idea whether Meliadoul felt any sort of attraction to him, but he noted that at least she never pulled her hand away from his touch.

Ramza had already read the Germonic Scriptures from cover to cover, of course. However, he did not mind discussing the contents with Meliadoul, when she exclaimed over them. She had been given the same extensive religious education as he had in his youth, and it was sort of satisfying to be able to discuss the Scriptures with someone who was as shocked as he was. The book destroyed every notion they had used to hold dear about Saint Ajora.

Ramza noticed that she often tried to jest, a bit, to hide the fact that she was upset.

"Does this mean I must stop saying 'Oh Ajora' all the time?" Meliadoul sighed. "That will be a tough habit to break."

Her lighthearted words did not match her expression. She looked like she might cry at any moment.

Ramza closed the book carefully, then took hold of Meliadoul's hand.

"I am sorry I showed you the Scriptures at all. I should have refused, when you asked. There was no need for you to bear the burden of having read them, as well," he said quietly.

Meliadoul bowed her head. "Perhaps it is false. You know… all the things he writes about Ajora. I do not want it to be true."

"I am sorry," Ramza repeated.

"No," Meliadoul said, "Do not apologize. I am not eager to believe any of what we have just read… But I also do not wish to be sheltered from any harsh truths, any longer. I am tired of being lied to, by people such as my father and Sir Kletian. I want you to always share the truth with me, Ramza. Even when it is as difficult as this."

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The group was finally taking another rest day from marching. This time, Meliadoul simply felt thankful for the break. She did not even dream of complaining about the delay to their travels.

They had all gone to a tavern again last night, but the mood had been subdued this time. Everyone was exhausted, and they were still far from Igros. They each sat there nursing their ales slowly. Agrias and Balthier sat together in one corner of the room, cuddling. Meliadoul felt a little jealous. Not of Balthier himself, but just of their closeness. They seemed quite smitten with each other. The sight bitterly reminded her of how long it had been since she had been close with anyone.

Her swordplay practice with Agrias was going well, at least. They sparred on three evenings per week. Agrias still looked down at her as if she were dirt, but Meliadoul could tell she was improving. She made Agrias work a little harder to best her each time.

Meliadoul and Rafa left the tavern earlier than the others, both wanting sleep more than socialization.

On the walk back to the campsite, Meliadoul had tried to joke with Rafa, regarding how Agrias and Balthier were being so obvious about their affection for each other in the tavern.

Rafa had been oddly quiet. The subject seemed to make her exceptionally uncomfortable. Meliadoul had to remind herself again that Rafa was only fourteen years old. She really ought to be more careful to not talk about adult matters with the girl.

"I am sorry, I should not jest about them with you," Meliadoul finally said, trying to break Rafa out of her silent spell. "I am always overly crass; it is a fault I can never seem to improve in myself. I shall try to better guard my tongue."

Rafa looked thoughtful for a moment. "No… I… It is not that. I like that you speak your mind to me. Please do not guard your tongue on my account, ever."

"I did not offend you? You grew so quiet?"

"No! I am sorry… When you were speaking of Agrias and Balthier, my thoughts traveled elsewhere. I did not mean to ignore our conversation."

"Oh? Just where did your thoughts travel, Rafa? Does one of the men in this camp occupy your attention?" Meliadoul grinned. "I hope it is not Balthier. I doubt even you and I together could survive Agrias' wrath, if you tried to steal her man."

A confused mixture of emotions crossed over Rafa's face, but eventually she burst out laughing. Meliadoul chuckled too, as she waited for Rafa to compose herself enough to reply. "You truly are ridiculous, Meliadoul! Fear not, I am not scheming to steal Balthier from Agrias!" Rafa shook her head, with a smile. "I've no interest in any of the men in this camp… How about you?"

Meliadoul played dumb. "What about me?"

Rafa raised her eyebrows, giving her a knowing look.

"No… No, I've no interest in anyone in the camp, either." Meliadoul stammered.

"If you say so," Rafa replied, rolling her eyes.

"What do you mean by that?" Meliadoul demanded.

"I think you know what I mean."

Meliadoul wanted to argue further, but could not find words. She and Rafa said goodnight, and went to their separate tents.

Meliadoul had troubled dreams that night. She had also been assigned the middle nightshift watch duty, so that morning, Meliadoul was very glad it was a rest day. It would have been hard to march after such a bad night of sleep, broken by not only her watch shift but also by terrible dreams.

She stretched out in a patch of shade, along with Wulfhilda and Rafa. They all chatted for a while, while munching on meals they had stored away for the morning, which had been purchased in the tavern last night. It was lovely to have food that had been freshly prepared in a kitchen, rather than the usual dried camping rations.

Eventually, Meliadoul made her way over to say hello to Ramza and Mustadio, where they sat near the cart. She joined them nearly every day now, for at least a short while, even when she was not reading the Scriptures.

They were tinkering with the machines, as always, as she approached. She asked whether they had gotten very drunk, after she left the tavern, and they replied that they had not, this time. They seemed not to be suffering from hangovers. They were just enjoying the chance to sit, rather than march.

Meliadoul did not sit down right away. She was not sure whether she wanted to join them, or if she wanted to go back to her tent to take a nap. She had really not slept enough last night. She stood just behind Ramza, who was using a rolled-up camp bed as a sort of chair, while he hunched over one of the devices.

It was a hot and humid day. Meliadoul allowed her eyes to drift over Ramza himself, rather than the item he tinkered with. The back of Ramza's neck had begun to get sweaty, and his shaggy blond hair was sticking to it in wet strands.

Meliadoul felt a sudden urge to slide her fingers through it. She wanted to ruffle the sweat-sticky hair up off the nape of his neck… and then maybe drag her fingernails the rest of the way up the back of his head.

Where had that thought come from?

Now, she was admiring his shoulders. As was often the case with tall men, Ramza appeared rather thin from the front. But from behind, she could see that he did have a strong build. His back was broad, and his shoulders were thick and meaty. His white tunic was sticking to his skin in places, damp with sweat, and the sight was somehow making her feel an odd tightening sensation in her gut.

As Meliadoul stared at him, she could not help wondering what it would feel like to grip those shoulders while he, say, lifted her up in his wiry arms.

She suddenly realized that Mustadio was watching her, as she stared dazedly at Ramza. She quickly looked away.

She almost walked away, as well, at that point. But she was still itching to touch him. She just wanted to have that little bit of satisfaction, before she took a long, deep nap to clear away the fog in her brain. With the barest of grazes, Meliadoul slid her fingers through the damp hair at the nape of Ramza's neck, lightly brushing his skin, pushing the hair to the side.

His broad shoulders tensed in surprise.

"Your neck is getting sunburned, Ramza," Meliadoul said softly.

His sweat was on her fingertips.

She returned to her tent, not even daring a backward glance at him.

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The team passed the rest of the day in a blissfully lazy manner. It felt so good to have a whole day off from marching, to lounge on their backs and rest their aching feet.

Ramza spent the rest of the day thinking about how Meliadoul had touched him. How had one small stroke on his neck affected him like this?

It had felt like some sort of invitation.

Ramza had wanted to get up and follow her, when she walked away from him. But truthfully, his shoulders had not been the only thing that stiffened when she unexpectedly and oh-so-softly slid her fingers over him like that. It would have been awkward to stand up right away, with Mustadio watching.

Meliadoul had spent the next handful of hours in her tent, presumably taking a nap. The day wore on, and Meliadoul emerged eventually. She chatted with Rafa for a bit.

There was a stream nearby their campsite, which would be perfect for bathing in. Late in the afternoon, it was quickly agreed that the women would go first, and then the men would have a turn to bathe.

However, Meliadoul still did not feel entirely comfortable around Agrias, Alicia, and Lavian. So, Meliadoul, Wulfhilda, and Rafa said that they would wait until after everyone else was done, for their turn to bathe separately.

"Well, mayhap it is for the best that you shall wait behind," Alicia said to Meliadoul. "You can watch these scoundrels to ensure none of them come peeping at us!" Alicia gestured at all of the men, who began vaguely protesting against this accusation.

Meliadoul sat near her tent, while the first group of women were away at the stream.

As soon as Agrias was gone, Balthier began to speak to Luso, Rad, and Mustadio. He was talking in a low voice that would not be overheard by Ramza, who was currently at the other side of their campsite. Balthier's voice, however, was not quite low enough to stop Meliadoul from overhearing.

Balthier was giving the three other men a detailed account of the wild nights he had had with Agrias in his tent. Meliadoul did not generally get embarrassed when other people spoke of such matters, but she found herself actually blushing at Balthier's description of the things Agrias had done with him.

"Damn," Mustadio remarked cheerfully, "I cannot believe Ramza gave up all of that, just to stay friends with me! Hate to say it, but had the roles been reversed, I would have had to quit Ramza!"

Everyone seemed to understand, or at least assume, that Mustadio was only jesting, and the other men laughed at his statement.

Meliadoul was suddenly feeling a little bit silly for the attraction she had felt toward their leader earlier. If Ramza was accustomed to getting all of that in bed, then he would never want to waste his time with her. Gods, Meliadoul had never even managed to have good sex, let alone the sort of mind-blowing experience Balthier had just described.

Still, it seemed she could not help feeling attracted to Ramza. He was just so damn likeable. He was so generous of heart, without being a pushover. Meliadoul had never met anyone who had such a perfect balance of kindness and personal strength. Plus, Ramza talked to her as warmly as if they had been close friends for years.

He was so good. And not even just in the major ways, like how he had sacrificed his own personal reputation and his comfortable life as a nobleman in order to fight the Lucavi demons. Or how he was possibly the most talented swordsman she had ever seen. Ramza was good, even in small ways. Like how he genuinely cared about the safety of every fighter in his team. She knew now that Ramza would have never led his group into a suicidal situation, such as when she forced her team of six to attack Ramza's much larger force head-on. Ramza would have found a better, cleverer, way to attain his goal.

Honestly, it was sort of humbling to know him. He was an excellent choice as a mentor, for any squire or knight. But Meliadoul did not want him for a mentor. She wanted him in a far more intimate capacity than that. For him, she would not even have to think twice about dropping her unofficial vow to be finished with men.

But he was the indomitable Ramza Beoulve, heroic slayer of demons. Handsome as hell. Former lover of Agrias, who was apparently some sort of sex goddess. And Meliadoul was just… herself. She supposed she was rather pretty, but other than that, she was not really special in any way. Not good enough for someone like Ramza, at any rate.

Oh well.

Later that night, Mustadio asked for the group's attention. He suggested that they make a detour south, to visit his father in Goug.

This would add several days onto their trek to Igros, and many people began to protest.

"Hear me!" Mustadio cried over the mutterings, "Think about what we are walking into! Lord Vormav is likely a Lucavi, and Lord Dycedarg has a zodiac stone as well. We might be facing two Lucavi demons at the same time, when we get to Igros. Or more! We do not know what we will find there. I think it makes sense for us to visit my father, and check whether he has unearthed any new weapons we could use. We need all of the help we can get!"

The decision was, of course, ultimately up to Ramza. But after giving it some thought, Ramza agreed with Mustadio. They would detour to Goug, though it would add time to their trip.

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