Note: One more Stevie Nicks line. Gold Dust Woman. Great song.

Oh! And Quistis' mad alter ego...I keep imagining Patsy Stone from Absolutely Fabulous when crazy Quistis has her lines. I've always thought that Quistis might end up a lot like her...slightly mad, alcoholic, chain-smoking...simply because it has to be very stressful, teaching a school of mercenaries.

So, in my kooky little mind--nice, sane Quistis sounds like Julie Andrews--prim and proper, but crazy Quistis is straight up Patsy on the rocks. Cheers, darlings!

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"I told you, Selphie, she was fine. There is no need to worry about her. You know that she likes to spend her time alone."

"I don't care, Rin. You shouldn't have left her like that."

"I just figured that she would stay with Xu. I didn't know that she had nowhere to sleep last night."

"I've already asked Xu about it. She's not heard from her, and neither has Zell. We've gotta find her before the archery contest this afternoon."

"Well, if you were Quisty, where would you be?"

"If I were Quisty? Oh, that's easy! I would be twirling a ribbon around Sir Almasy's maypole and singing a merry tune. Tra-la-lally-yay!"

"Selphie! This is Quistis we're talking about here! She would never do a thing like that!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. She told us herself that she has no musical aptitude…and I know for a fact that she didn't bring any ribbons with her. So, the maypole is out. Hmm."

"That is not what I meant!"

"Oh come on, Princess! I can tell that she has a wild streak hidden somewhere under that big old brain of hers…oh wait! There she is! QUISTEEEEEEEE!!!!!"

Selphie grabbed a handful of Rinoa's skirt and dragged her to the only pavilion that sold caffeine instead of alcohol. A few patrons with bloodshot eyes were milling about, stumbling and moaning about their headaches, mugs in hand, trying valiantly to recover from the debauchery of the previous night. Quistis was sitting on a bench, pouring coffee down her throat and massaging her temples, obviously suffering from a bad hangover as well, and still feeling the effects of Seifer's speech patterns. "Ye gods, Selphie! Tame thine tongue! I have the most Dionysian of headaches, one that would make the wine god himself weep in sympathy. Aye, my poor head. Hush thine screeching and wailing."

"Hee hee! You said 'Ye'. Are you finally getting into the spirit of things? And just where the hell were ye last night? We've searched hither and yon, o'er hill and o'er mountain, and now our quest is at an end, for the lady is found! Huzzah!" Rinoa rolled her eyes. How could Selphie be so energetic after drinking so much the night before? Her recovery abilities were uncanny and, at least to Rinoa, somewhat frightening. "Where were you last night, Quistis? If I had known that you didn't have anywhere to sleep, I would have invited you to stay with Squall and myself. We've looked for you all morning."

Nodding vigorously, Selphie's headdress fell to the ground. When she bent to retrieve it, she noticed for the first time the state of Quistis' crumpled costume. The shriek carried into the tops of the trees, displacing birds from their roosts with many angry squawks and outraged whistles. "EEEEEK! And what happened to your dress? I had to order that all the way from Esthar! We have to get those wrinkles out now!" Jumping on the bench, Selphie cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed, causing the small crowd under the trees to grab their ears and give a collective miserable groan. "HEAR YE! HEAR YE! CALL THE WRINKLE-SMITH! CALL THE WRINKLE-SMITH!!!"

Hissing when the loud shout reverberated in the chambers of her wine-swollen head, Quistis yanked Selphie down by her wings, filling her espresso with glitter and sequins. "What the hell are you talking about? A wrinkle-smith? I've never heard such nonsense." Selphie's jaw dropped at Quistis' ignorance of medieval matters and her disgust at finding glitter in her coffee. According to Selphie, some of the world's finest drinks were alcoholic suspensions for heavy metals. "I can't believe you, Q. You're a teacher and you mean to tell me that you don't know about a wrinkle-smith? I'faith! Look, Lady Q, a locksmith makes locks, a blacksmith hammers out metal, and a wrinkle-smith hammers out wrinkles. Surely you didn't think I'd organize a faire like this and not have a wrinkle-smith. Now come on, we've got to get your dress fixed."

"Thanks, but I'd much rather find something else to wear, Selphie. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to Ye Olde Costume Rentals, Lost and Found, and ATM. Good day, ladies." Quistis stood from the bench and tried to shake the inquisitive pair hovering around her throbbing head. She wanted to ask Selphie for advice about Seifer and the mad voices in her head, but she certainly couldn't do it around Rinoa. Tossing her coffee cup in the bin marked Pollute not, lest ye find a plague visited upon thine head, she bounced past Rinoa and Selphie, counting on her long legs to carry her far from the shorter girls. She hadn't counted on two bundles of tenacious curiosity latching onto her arms and dragging her through the faire.

"You know, it's a shame about that, Lady Q, 'cause the only costumes left are a burlap sack for the guy that will be stuck in the pillory and a pair of shackles, so you're stuck with your costume. And don't change the subject! We were worried about you!" Selphie's wings shook with the full fury of fairyland, dusting both Quistis and Rinoa with metallic silver and pink particles. "What on earth did you do to get your dress so wrinkled? And your hair so tangled? And why does a maidenly blush besmirch thine cheek? Did you…"

"What? What's with that look?" Quistis tried to pull away from Selphie, whose cute fairy grin had transformed into something far more sinister. Seeing such an evil grin, Quistis was reminded that the fairies and sprites in the ancient tales weren't the friendly, happy-go-lucky spirits that currently decorated posters and t-shirts. No, the fairies of old were the ones that spoiled milk and switched children; the same imps that destroyed crops just because they thought it would be funny. And Selphie looked exactly like one of those wicked pixies, all shimmering malevolence and fiendish fun. "Selphie? Why are you smiling like that?"

"Just where did you spend last night, eh, Lady Quistis? Ye didn't happen to cross the path of a certain knight garbed in white, did ye? Ye didn't sheathe his sword for him, did ye?"

"What? NO!"

Rinoa and Selphie looked at each other and laughed. "Oh, come on Quistis! What were you doing then?"

Quistis jerked her arms from the giggling brunettes. "After you and you ditched me last night, I spent half the night wandering around this god-forsaken faire. And yes, I ran into Seifer, and he was kind enough to offer me a place to sleep. And that's it."

"AH HA! I knew it! And did you have a merry olde time, then?"

"No. As a matter of fact, it was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my entire life."

"Surely the lady jests. Truly? She spent her night in repose and not engaged in that most pleasurable of kingly sports? Are you fucking crazy?" Selphie slapped Quistis on the back of the head and promptly ducked behind Rinoa for protection. "Oh shit. Umm, please forgive this humble spirit o' the forest! Cast your evil eye elsewhere! Trouble not those who meant only to umm…let's see…oh, fuck it. Really, Q. What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Quistis wanted to choke the glitter out of Selphie, but the fairy made a good point. See Darling? Even your friends think you're mad for passing on that opportunity. I mean, honestly. Think about it, love. You have one woman that looks like she was rejected by the Deling City Gay Pride Parade and another that would be perfectly at home with those elves that live in a tree and make cookies, and both of THEM are questioning YOUR sanity. Tsk, tsk, dear. You should have listened to me. "Shut up."

Rinoa and Selphie exchanged worried glances. "Which one of us do you want to shut up, Quisty? 'Cause neither of us said a word just now."

"Ooo! Neither of you. I was talking to…" Yep, tell them you were telling yourself to shut up. Come now, darling. You paid attention in your history classes. You know as well as I do that mad women like yourself that talked to voices in their heads were called witches and executed. Keep this up and they'll have you tossed in a pond or tied to a stake. And wouldn't you much rather have that charming fellow tie you down to the bedposts instead of a stake? Sounds like more fun, eh? "…never mind. And yes, I suppose that you were right about Seifer, Rinoa. Even though he is insufferably arrogant and the biggest jerk I know, last night he was almost pleasant."

Selphie seemed ready to make another comment, but Rinoa clapped her hand over the fairy's mouth. She couldn't believe it. Quistis Trepe had nearly complimented Seifer Almasy. If Selphie would keep her trap shut, then the rest of the tournament could prove to be very interesting. "Yes, well, there are times when he can also be an absolute asshole too. So I can see why he drives you insane. Now, come on. Squall and Irvine are trying to get in a few more practice rounds in before the contest this afternoon, and we could all use a chance to freshen up before we meet them. Let's see about getting you straightened out a bit before your knight sees you in such a state."

"An' tompf uh Sheefurr un bmmff phuckk Quishhtesssh wiff hish huge mmmffff! And then they could shooof fueer but it would work with some lube or ugher mmefrroot and they could invite some friends to asiitf ooo and ye olde foorlamor! Hee hee! And they're both blonde, so they would look great if they wore a errunf sjooth and red feathers weffer spring-loaded, vibrating seddwefoo even if he is that tall and she could just bend over and use her tongue to seroohga fekxz! Huzzah!" Selphie couldn't speak clearly with Rinoa's hand over her mouth, but her vivid green eyes and wiggling eyebrows were more than enough to suggest something rather, well, suggestive. Quistis wasn't sure if she should blush, scream, curse, or thank Selphie for giving her a compliment about her hair.

"What did she say?"

Rinoa poked Selphie in the ribs with the hand that wasn't smashing her lips together. If she could keep Quistis in a fairly decent mood (and keep Selphie from blowing it), then maybe the rest of the afternoon would be a regular lark. "I, uh, I'm really not sure, Quistis. I think it was in old Estharian and I'm just not fluent in the really old languages. But that doesn't matter right now. I want to go and cheer my dear knight. Huzzah! Ow!" Selphie bit Rinoa's hand, finally gaining her freedom. Adjusting her wings and headdress, she pranced and danced for the benefit of the growing crowds. "Yeah! And I want to cheer my Lord Irvy Kinnepoo! Huzzah!"

Laughing at Selphie, Rinoa took Quistis' arm and gave her the special, persuasive smile that made Squall melt and obey her every desire. She knew that Quistis would never admit it, but she felt certain that the instructor was flattered by the attention given to her by the handsome knight. After all, Seifer could have taken his pick from any of the beautiful ladies that winked and flirted with him, but he chose to battle for the blonde on her arm. "And how about the Lady Trepe? Does she plan to cheer her brave champion this afternoon as he challenges the bold Leonhart and the stalwart Kinneas? If he knew that his lady fair sat in the stands, shouting only for him, then he might actually be…some competition for my own knight." Her smile grew a bit wider when she saw the tiny flash of anger that passed over her friend's blue eyes. Yep, even though she hated him, she wanted Seifer to win this tournament. Sure, he drove her crazy, but Rinoa couldn't remember the last time that a man made the cool and collected Quistis Trepe blush like a silly schoolgirl. "Oh, come on, Quistis. Is it really that bad that Seifer wants to be your knight?"

"Don't push it Princess. He's not fighting for me; he's fighting for the way my knockers look in this costume. Besides, I have a bet going with Sir Almasy and cheering him would hurt my cause. I'll remain a neutral party and cheer for nobody except for Zell. At least he amuses me." Yes, let the fool amuse you darling, but remember that you sure weren't thinking about bells and cream pies when you were lusting after those muscles this morning. And did you even pull yourself out of your bitchiness long enough to notice that he seemed so damned disappointed when you left him? All alone? He would have torn that costume from your shoulders and made you moan like a preacher's daughter on spring break, love, but NO! You had to run off and act like a stuck-up bitch. What if he finds some other lovely lady to hoist his standard, eh? He still hangs around with that girl with the patch, right? That girl with the PATCH? Terrible slang, I know, but still…do you even realize just how far I can go with this? Patch? One-eye? Oh, I can go on forever, dear.

I wish you wouldn't. For all his faults, he's always been brutally honest. I don't think that he'd imply that I am his muse and singular source of inspiration if he had another woman in mind.

Oh, you may be right. But, then again…you always have had so much trouble reading signals, haven't you, dear?

Shut the fuck up, Brain.

You forget, darling. I'm not your brain. That smart ass cunt is holed up in your noggin, enjoying this tawdry little act, while I'm slaving away, trying my damn hardest to convince you that you'll only be rid of me once you decide that you want to indulge that perfect knight in his chivalrous little fantasies. Cheers, darling!

GOD! Shut up!

"Umm, Quisty? Really. Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes. I've just had a very stressful night. Seifer and I had a most unpleasant disagreement about our wager."

"Oh, you really do have a bet, do you? Well, well…that explains everything then, doesn't it?"

-----------------------------------------------

"Pull!"

Crash, shatter, crunch

Pull!"

Crash, shatter, crunch

"Pull!"

Crash, shatter, crunch

"Pull!"

"Hey, I can't, Sir! Outta bottles, ya know."

"IMPRESSIVE."

Seifer searched the ground around their tents for any other objects that would make suitable targets for his quickie archery practice session, but anything that could be shot already had an arrow through it. Hats, boots, magazines…Fujin's favorite eye-patch.

The green glass from the bottles littered the campsite with emerald light, sharp facets reflecting the early morning sunshine in broken, dizzy rainbows. "Ye Gods! How the hell am I to win the approval of my lady fair if I can't even count on my mates?"

"Well, Sir, since the contest is this afternoon, I don't think just a few more minutes of practice is going to do ya a lot of good, ya kn…HEY! DON'T SHOOT THOSE DAMN THINGS AT ME!" Raijin jumped behind Fujin, rightly figuring that even Seifer didn't have the balls to shoot at her. Not after the eye patch episode. Yeesh. "You just need to relax, Sir! Leonhart is a worse shot than you, and the rest of the guys suck, so the only one you need to worry about is the cowboy. And you've hit everything I've thrown this morning, so chill out!" Indeed he had. Had Irvine been there to watch Seifer hit every single hurled target, he would have tipped his hat to the knight. Hitting a stationary target was one thing, but pulling back an arrow and still managing to pierce a flying chunk of glass before it touched the ground…that took talent.

Seifer threw his bow down in disgust. Before he saw Quistis in all of her shiny, golden, buxom glory, the tournament was just a way to kill time and leave a few bruises on his competitors. Simple fun and a few laughs. But now, knowing that he absolutely had to get her alone again, and in that costume, beating the hell out of the competition was more important than just fun. And knowing that the old fortune teller bitch was right about his manners…well fuck it all to hell in a goddamned piece of shit wicker basket…that made it even worse. The lady fair was actually playing along with him this morning! And damn it all, she almost acted like she was enjoying his company! Instead of worrying about some archery contest, had he watched his tongue, Seifer knew that he might still be wrapped in the arms of his lady.

"SIR?"

"What do you want, Fu?"

"PROBLEM?"

"Yeah, Sir, you're acting kind of weird, ya know. I know you're mad about us in the tent and all, but it'll be…OW! Why'd you kick me, Fu?"

"IDIOT." Fujin was very fond of the big man, but she lost patience with him so easily. After she heard Seifer pacing in front of the tents just after sunrise, she knew that something had happened to ruin his good mood. And, knowing that he was aching for the instructor, she figured that it had something to do with her. And, realizing that the blonde hair she discovered tangled in her sheets was way too long to belong to Seifer and most certainly didn't come from her own silver head, she deduced that the mighty Lord Almasy, scourge of the Balamb Faire, had met his match in a perfumed lass with killer hair and a nice set of tits. It bloody damn figured. "LADY?"

Seifer looked truly miserable. "Aye, madame! To defend the lady from night and her minions, I spirited her to our camp, away from the cruel fog and clutching hands of yon foul Trepie army. But I am accursed! My lily, my sweet lady, asleep in my very arms, her golden charms and ivory beauty so close to mine bosom, and I! I, a greater fool than yon capering moron, I wake her not with gentle words or a tender caress. I summon the wing'd demon of mine own evil tongue and frighten her from my tent. Cursed am I, for now Milady hath pledged to take the air from mine throat with her own corset." Seifer ran his hands through his hair and paced the campsite, furious at himself. A gaggle of giggling idiot girls passed by the tent and waved at the handsome knight, tossing ribbons and favors, but upon seeing his murderous green gaze, they decided to flirt with another, friendlier participant. They winked at Raijin, who made sure that Fujin wasn't looking before he returned the wink.

"Hey, I don't know, Sir. That actually sounds kind of kinky. It might even be fun, 'cause Trepe is really hot, ya know." Raijin felt the air knocked from his lungs when Fujin kneed him in the gut. "Not as hot as you, though. Ya know, Fu….ooof…"

Before Raijin could crush it, Fujin picked Seifer's bow from the ground and gave it a quick examination, satisfied that it would serve her lord well in his upcoming contest. True, eagle-eyed Kinneas would be a challenge, but Fujin had complete faith in her leader. She handed the bow back to Seifer, her single eye watching him carefully. The times when she felt the need to use polysyllabic phrases were very few, but today was one of those rare occasions. "Perhaps you should just use your manners around your lady, sir. I noticed the way she watched you at the tilt yesterday. You have definitely caught her eye, but acting like an arrogant bastard won't get you far with her." She smiled when Seifer gave her one of his trademark devilish grins. "And wear the fire-cross doublet today, not the pure white. The red matches the velvet in her skirt. She'll appreciate a gesture like that."

"Hmm. Yes. She does look really good in that skirt, doesn't she?"

Fujin rolled her eye. "Yes, but don't stare at her and miss your targets this afternoon. You've sworn to win for her, haven't you?"

"Aye!"

"Well then, win this thing so she can lose this bet. I would almost think that she wants you to win, that way she can yield to you without losing face. If she loses the bet to the noble Lord Almasy, I guarantee that you'll have her back in your tent and out of that costume in no time. But if she loses the bet to a fucking ill-mannered pig in armor, then you may still end up losing, sir."

"Why Fujin! You wound me almost as much as she!"

"AFFIRMATIVE!"

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Zell's horn thundered over the hum of the crowd gathered to watch the archery contest, the clarion notes ringing through the orange and red leaves, shaking a few onto the heads of eager spectators. It was a large group, but by no means as large as the crowd that would be gathered for the final joust the following day.

Multicolored banners flew in the cool breeze; silken ribbons whose tinted threads proclaimed loyalty to one champion were tied to branches, carried by supporters, and worn by blushing women and shouting men. The mood was festive, spirits were high, and the archers weaving through the crowd were drinking the ambiance as if it were the sweetest of wines. Irvine loved the tournament nearly as much as Seifer, confident that his emerald tights were the focal point of most of the female eyes in the faire. He was glad that Selphie was flattered by the attention that he received, knowing that most women would have slapped him for the roving eyes of other women. "Hee Hee! Look, Irvy! That old cow in the corner next to the pickle vendor; she's checking out your ass! Hoo Hoo!"

"Yeah, but check out the redheads at three o'clock. I think they've followed me all morning." Selphie followed the direction of his extended thumb, finding a set of ginger sisters sighing about the charming man decked in green. Selphie considered a compliment for her boyfriend a compliment for herself. Every time that a woman (or a man, for that matter) lusted after her Irvy, she just figured that their admiration was another notch on her magic wand. It was hard to be jealous when your fellow was so handsome that he attracted half the population of Balamb. "Yep! I have the best-looking boyfriend in the faire!"

"You certainly do, darlin', and I am blessed to have the world's hottest demonic wood fairy on my arm." He gave her a quick peck before she disappeared into the stands to take a seat with her friends.

"You two aren't conceited at all, are you?" Squall chuckled at the scene he just witnessed, amazed at the easy affable way the pair breezed through a situation that would bring any other couple to a fistfight. "At least you guys aren't afflicted with that terrible disease known as Ye Olde False Modesty."

"Conceited? Us? Hell no. We're just confident, that's all."

"Confident? Well, I hope your confidence lasts, because you'll need every ounce of it once I knock you out of this tournament."

"Well, good luck with that, my lord. 'Cause these eyes never miss their target." Irvine waved to Selphie, who had found Rinoa, Xu, and Quistis, and was now screaming an old fairy war cry from the stands.

"You're not going to start with that loneliness of a sharpshooter bullshit again, are you?" Squall checked his arrows, felt the shafts for any cracks, any imperfections that might alter their flight. The light breeze in the trees already had him concerned. He had enough trouble with archery even on the calmest of days and now that the wind was picking up, he feared that he might have to settle for second to Irvine. "Once Almasy gets here, I don't know how much bullshit I can take without driving one of these arrows into his head."

"Oh, ease up, Squall. Can't you just ignore him?"

Squall almost chuckled. "You're beginning to sound like Quistis back when she still taught us. 'Just ignore him, he'll get tired of teasing you eventually.' Blah, blah, blah."

"Speaking of Quistis and Seifer, Selphie told me that he's taken quite the fancy to the little lady."

"Oh, I can imagine that. He torments her for years and then all of a sudden, he discovers that she has a nice body under that SeeD uniform and he's head over heels? Come on, Irvine. I hope to hell that Quistis is as smart as I think she is and doesn't fall for some smooth talking knight just because he slides her a few lines."

"Hey now! What's wrong with a few lines? They've always worked for me!"

"But they didn't work with Quistis, did they?"

"True." Irvine heard a mixture of boos and cheers and saw a white banner and a flaming red cross. "But here comes Laughing Boy now. You want to be the one to tell him to back off of her? 'Cause I'm not going to get in the middle of it. I don't think we need to be worried about Quistis Trepe handling herself."

"Handling herself isn't the problem. I'm more concerned with her handling Almasy."

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"Oh, look Lady Q! There he is! Ooh! And he sees us! Huzzah, Lord Almasy!" Selphie lifted her flagon of mead, throwing suds and bubbles over the heads of the people below. Seifer lifted his bow in acknowledgement, glad to see that his lady fair was attending the contest, even if it was with her strange group of friends.

"I see him, Selphie. And don't encourage him." Quistis struggled with her hair. The wind was picking up, blowing the silky strands into her face and around her head in a strange sort of blonde halo. She would have killed for her trusty clip, but that had been left behind in Selphie's tent, at the sprite's incredibly shrill insistence.

"Well then, don't just sit there. Wave at him! Halloooooo, brave sir! Halllooooooo..ooomph! Hey! Why'd you slap me this time? I'm just trying to give your man a little support, since you want to be all mean and bitchy. Fucking prithee." Selphie sat down in a huff, angry that Quistis still refused to jump from her seat and cheer for that looker of a knight. "Well fine, be that way. But see if I ever try to get you laid again, Miss I'm-too-good-to-give-anyone-the-time-of-day Trepe."

"I never said I was too good for anyone, Selphie."

"Yeah? Well, you sure as hell act like it sometimes. You walk around with your nose in the air, acting like a fucking queen half the time. It's no wonder you're still single!"

Quistis was stunned. She looked to Rinoa for support, hurt that her friend thought so poorly of her. "I don't act like that, do I, Rinoa?" Rinoa bit her lip. "Umm…well, you do sort of act like you have really, umm, high standards, Quisty. Not that that's a bad thing, it just makes people think that you're kind of stuck-up."

"What?"

"Oh, don't worry about them, Q. If we were half as good-looking as you, we'd act stuck-up too!" Quistis buried her head in her hands. Xu meant well, but she succeeded in making the poor girl feel worse than Selphie and Rinoa combined. She looked at her friends, all absorbed in the contest below. So, the entire planet thought she was a conceited snob. She spoke to them, hurt again when they ignored her. "I, uh, think I'm going to go get some coffee."

"Oh, no need to get up, sweetie. I have some right here." Quistis found a mug shoved in her hands by a grinning, gummy woman that could have used an appointment with Selphie's wrinkle-smith. "Umm, thanks, but I don't want to take your…"

"Oh, I have plenty! Don't you fret your pretty little head about that!"

"Umm, okay? Thanks?" Quistis didn't quite know what to make of the old woman cackling and wheezing beside her. When she sat down, Quistis had been at the end of the row; surely she would have noticed an elderly lady taking a seat next to her. wouldn't she?

The hag grabbed Quistis' chin and looked intently at her confused face. "My, my, my…your feller sure can pick 'em. You certainly have some very blue eyes, Missy. Nice hair, too."

"It's umm, Quistis, not Missy. Nice to meet you, Mrs…" Quistis jumped when laughter gurgled from the old woman's throat, a deep rumble that sounded like it had laughed at many things for many, many years. This was a laugh with experience, a laugh that knew how silly a place the world could be. "Oh, Miss Quistis, there's no need to go learning my name. But, it was nice of you to ask me, dearie. No, I wouldn't worry about it, dear."

Quistis raised an eyebrow at this odd statement. "I'm afraid I don't understand, ma'am. Worry about what?"

"Oh, I knew you'd have better manners than your feller. At least he appreciates tea more than you…I'll give him that much. Don't understand that coffee drinkin' myself. Why drink it when you can have a nice spot of tea?" The hand on her face disappeared and the woman was now on the other side of Quistis, tying her disobedient hair up with a white ribbon. How did she move that fucking fast? "No, I wouldn't worry about it at all. Rulers make bad lovers, after all. I'd tell you to put your kingdom up for sale, but you've never had a real kingdom, have you, Missy?"

"I am so confused right now, ma'am."

The crone eyed her handiwork, pleased that the shining pearl threads of the white satin did such a beautiful job of holding the girl's flaxen hair. "There. You look lovely, child. And don't worry about your friends and their opinions of you. None of them have had their hearts broken by a man before, so they don't understand why you haven't climbed on top of that lad that wants you so bad." Quistis blushed, both at painful memories and the thought that this old woman somehow knew all about Seifer. Her strange witch eyes seemed to burn straight through Quistis, a weird amethyst light that could read every secret she held. "How do you know about…"

"Oh, stop asking so many questions. And give me that cup." She jerked the empty mug from Quistis. Had she drank any of the coffee yet? The cup was full just a second ago, wasn't it? "Now, pay attention to me. The first volley is over, four archers have been eliminated, and your lad has advanced. There's going to be a break, since the wind is so bad. I have a strange feeling that his hands are cold and he'll be wanting a hot cup o' tea." Quistis privately wondered if this woman might be mad, but it would be rude to ask her if she had escaped from a mental hospital. "Now, keep listenin'! I need for you to go down and get yourself a cup of coffee from that vendor right over…" Craning her neck, the old hag picked a red hat from the throng of merchants. "…there! And when you get down there, make sure that your knight sees the way I've done your hair. He'll love it." She smiled at Quistis, all gums and ancient teeth, wrinkled lines and electric purple glow. "Now get going. The wind is picking up."

Quistis wanted to ask the old woman one more time for her name, but she was gone.

"What'd you say, Q?" Xu leaned to her without taking her eyes from the competition. "Something about coffee?"

"Yeah, there's a change in the wind and I could use a cup. Do you want one?" She didn't understand the strange situation, but all of a sudden she felt this desire to talk with Seifer about it. For whatever reason, she felt that he alone would listen to her without asking if she was crazy.