"LORDS AND LADIES! THE FIRST VOLLEY HATH BEEN LOOSED AND THE FIRST COMPETITORS ELIMINATED! HUZZAH!"

Cheers erupted from many throats. The champions that brought the crowds, Leonhart, Almasy, and Kinneas, were still near perfection, hitting their marks with an accuracy that would make even the great hooded rogue from the tales of olde respect their skill. Even when the targets were moved back so far as to make the judges squint, the arrows still found their way deep into the cork, thudding home with many a quivering thunk.

A few disappointed spectators booed when Zell announced that Lords Nida of Balamb and Watts of Timber were among those eliminated in the first round. Their disappointment soon turned to elation, however, when a handful of generous Kinneas fans bought the losers a round of drinks. Orange and yellow ribbons were exchanged for green and Lord Kinneas found himself the new idol for a group of displaced archery supporters.

The wind, previously a slight breeze that teased dry leaves from the trees and kissed the cheeks of patrons with her cool lips, was now a strong gust that threatened to tear the banners from the pavilions and blow hats and ribbons from the costumed actors. Spectators had to guard their brews from the thirsty wind, cupping their hands over the suds so none would be lost to the swirling currents.

Zell, now master of ceremonies in addition to his capering duties, took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air. There had to be a change in plans to accommodate the whims of Pandemona, who seemed to hate archery with a windy passion.

THE COMPETITION WILL RESUME AT THE HOUR OF FOUR!

Announcement completed, Zell gasped for air. They served soft drinks and fries in some of the tents, so why the hell couldn't they let him use a microphone to announce this bullshit? It's not as if the faire was even historically accurate, anyway. And once the patrons were drunk enough, they didn't even care about the history or the competitions. They just wanted to see a little bloodshed. And if the wind kept blowing like this, the archery would have to be postponed, before blood was shed by an errant arrow in somebody's ass.

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"Squall! Take it easy! You're still ahead." Irvine sat on an oaken barrel, pipe to his lips, relishing the cool breeze. Unlike Squall, who was stomping a ditch in the mud behind the stables, Irvine was enjoying the break in the competition. It gave him a chance to sample the new strain of Crimson Cosmo Canyon he had obtained from the lute player. Irvine envied the permanent faire players. He envied their freedom, their wandering spirit...their ability to get exotic strains of Chocobo greens. Coughing when he inhaled too deeply, he grinned at the impatient black knight. Squall was getting funnier with every hit of the pipe. He giggled, thinking that Squall was just like the villain from that movie with the spaceships, from his black tunic to his angry, raspy breathing. "Heh, you know you look just like Darth Va..." Squall stopped pacing and fixed Irvine with a death glare. "...umm, I mean...just calm down man! Relax!"

"I can't calm down! He is dead even with me right now, and you're only ahead by a few points! I figured that this would be the event that would knock him out of the tourney!"

"But, you beat him in the joust the other day, so you're still ahead overall, right?"

"Yes, but not by much. If he manages to squeak by this afternoon, then we'll be tied for events won." Squall kicked at a clump of mud, furious that Almasy was actually good at archery. He fully counted on Irvine winning today's event, then jousting against the cowboy tomorrow. Irvine was a literal pushover at jousting. Rubbing a sore spot under his arm, Squall feared that he might have to face Seifer in the tilt again. He knew that he had been lucky a couple of days ago. If the huge white horse hadn't thrown that shoe, it might have been him knocked into the clay instead of Almasy. And what made it even worse was the fact that Irvine was laughing about it! He acted as if this tournament was a mere game! "Where the hell did he learn how to shoot like that? Irvine? Are you listening?"

Irvine sat on the barrel, face lifted to the heavens, watching the sparse clouds roll overhead. "Did you ever notice how blue the sky is, Squall? Do you...do you think there are like, galaxies far, far away up there?"

The Black Knight groaned. Of all the days that Irvine could take a toke on his magic pipe, he had to pick this day. "Kinneas! Are you high again? Seifer will kick our asses for sure now!"

"What? No, man! I'm just mellow! And don't worry about him, because this stuff makes me concentrate even harder."

Squall pulled his hair in frustration. Great, just great. Seifer had the shooting instincts of one of the merry men, and now Irvine was stoned. And the wind was getting stronger. "Damn it, Irv. You had better be straight once the clock strikes four, or else I'm kicking you all the way back to Sherwood Forest."

"Hey now! I told you! It won't be a problem!" Irvine stuck his pipe back in his pouch and adjusted his tights. They really were very comfortable, even if it meant that he was being stalked by half the faire. He chuckled when he thought that he might soon have as many fans as Quistis. She had her Trepies, so he figured that he could have a whole army of Kinneasies...no, that wouldn't work. Maybe...Irvies! Yeah! That would work...oh, wait. The Knight was jabbering again. Why couldn't he just fucking relax?

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! Ease up man. I think you must have gotten a secondary buzz off this stuff. You're acting all paranoid. Now come on. We still have about an hour to wait, so let's grab some grub."

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

"I said, I want a cup of tea!"

"What?"

"Tea!"

"Fleas? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Forget it!"

Seifer pushed through the crowd, furious at the weather and the idiots it had blown in with it. The sky was still that wonderful shade of deep blue, but the chill wind blowing from the north made it nearly impossible to communicate. All he wanted was some hot tea to warm his hands, but the jackass with that ludicrous red cap couldn't seem to understand that the only reason people visited the only tea merchant in the faire was to buy some goddamned tea! Blowing his hands and leaning into the wind, Seifer finally found a sheltered spot between two tents, blissfully void of human life. It was still cold, but at least the wind wasn't as strong here. He still wanted his tea, though. Damn that moronic tea seller. "Lord, what fools these mortals be...especially dumbasses that don't even listen to their customers! Fucking idiot."

Pacing and muttering, Seifer rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them so he could continue the contest. Stupid wind. Until the competition was postponed, Seifer was enjoying himself. His accuracy amazed everyone, including Puberty Boy and Panty Hose Cowboy. The memory of Squall and Irvine nervously glancing at him when each of his arrows hit the center of the target made him laugh out loud. The surprised expressions on their faces were well worth the price of returning to the campsite that night and cleaning up broken glass. Were it not for the ultimate prize if he won the tournament, Seifer would have considered the shocked expressions on their faces victory enough.

The wind howled and moaned, bending the tall trees and throwing clouds of dust and debris over the faire. He struggled with a long piece of fabric that was blown into his face, covering his eyes and nose. Angry at the foul weather, he tore the slick cloth from his eyes, ready to toss it to the ground. Another fucking ribbon? What the hell was wrong with those crazy bitches? Didn't they realize that he had no interest in any of them? Seifer rolled his eyes when he heard a low feminine voice following the wayward streamer as it escaped her hair. "Oh no! I'm so sorry! This wind is absolutely terrible. Thank you for catching my..." If one more of those stupid groupie wenches tossed another fucking favor at him, he knew that he'd…um, stare like a love-struck fool. "Milady?"

Quistis, hair unbound and whipping around her face, came to a dead stop when she found her ribbon in the hands of the frozen knight. Once again, Seifer found himself wondering if perhaps an astral queen had descended from the stars to laugh at his torment. Was she wearing the white in her hair just to tease him? Probably. She could be such a bitch, but damn her, she made bitchiness look so fucking good. She was clear sapphire and marble ice, cold sunfire and moonlit shadows. And she was driving him absolutely fucking mad.

Well, well, well. Look over there, darling. That cross on his tunic is the EXACT same shade as your costume. Looks like he noticed more than just your bouncy attributes. I daresay he's trying to impress you.

I see it. And yes, before you get going, it is the same shade of red. And he does...

What? He looks amazing, doesn't he? Admit it, darling.

Well, I suppose that it does flatter him.

So, why are you just staring at him? Shouldn't you walk over and put your hands around...that ribbon?

Don't start this again.

Come now, dearest. If I don't pester the hell out of you, we both know that you won't go over there. Oh look! You did realize that the crazy old hag tied a WHITE ribbon in your hair, didn't you?

No, I hadn't noticed.

Well, HE certainly noticed that it's white. I do believe he's smiling. And it's not that cocky smirk of his, either.

Don't give me that. Everything about him is cocky.

And how would YOU know?

I did sleep with him, remember?

Yes, and that's the problem. Sleeping was the only thing you did. If you had listened to me, we'd still be asleep NOW, exhausted after quite a fun workout.

That didn't keep me from noticing his...

Yes? Do go on. Elaborate for me.

Oh, shut the hell up.

Only if you go talk to him.

I'd rather not.

Your hair will be a mess again if you don't retrieve that ribbon. Remember how long it took Selphie and Xu to get those knots untangled? I'd almost wonder if that mad wrinkled bitch could control the weather. Look at him. He must have a thing for blondes. He's staring at your hair instead of your tits, love. I believe he's the only male at this whole faire that has actually acted like a gentleman when it comes to those beasts on your chest. She did say that he would like what she had done with your hair, after all.

Yes, but she just tied it up for me. She didn't...

Hmm. Oh yes, I suppose you're right again. She didn't tie it so loose that the wind, which popped up out of NOWHERE, by the way, could blow your ribbon all the way from the stands to THIS spot, where a certain fellow just HAPPENED to be standing. Oh no. That would just be serendipitous, right? You fucking idiot, if you don't go over there this very instant, I swear I will drive you absolutely mad, darling. It'll be nothing but, 'Out, damn'd spot! Out I say!' for the rest of your days. Trust me. That crazy chick in that play will seem positively sane compared to what you'll be when I get finished.

Ooh! Fine! I'll go talk to him.

Good. And play nice, won't you? He is rather fond of you, you know.

Still stinging from the remarks made by her friends (and her incredibly bothersome id), Quistis thought that she should maybe start acting a bit friendlier with people, perhaps starting with her smitten adversary. He had yet to insult her, so maybe it wouldn't be impossible, just very difficult. Taking a deep breath, she quickly closed the distance between them, reaching for the ribbon and sliding it out of Seifer's fingers. She looked up with a ready-made smile, but felt it fall from her face when she realized how close her footsteps had carried her."My thanks, kind sir. T'would seem that the cavorting zephyrs meant to blind m'lord with the ribbon that held my hair."

Green eyes widened in surprise, both at her proximity and her friendly words. "Milady, would that those same unfeeling zephyrs had been so merciful." Seifer wished that they had stolen his vision. Seeing nothing at all would be preferable to seeing his cruel goddess looking at him the way she was right now. He meant to say more; he wanted to say more, but the wind chose that time to blow again, tossing strands of her blonde hair towards his face. Seifer closed his eyes, basking in the warm gossamer sunlight flitting across his cheeks. "Perhaps then they would have truly blinded me, saving mine eyes from your siren charms."

"Oh?" She was wrong about his affections, it seemed. Quistis felt like crawling into a hole, disappointed by his reaction to her appearance. God, he must really be pissed off if he can't even stand to look at me. I'd be better off back in Xu's tent, playing solitaire with the mad bitch inside my brain. When the crone finished with her, Quistis had felt the strangest desire to find Seifer. She felt oddly certain that he wanted to speak with her, but what she planned to do when she found him was still a mystery. Not that it had mattered at the time. The only thing that mattered was finding him, and now, standing inches from her knight, Quistis wanted to run. She fidgeted with the ribbon, winding it in and out of her fingers, afraid to look at him and see nothing but revulsion. She had enough denial and loneliness for a lifetime. "And... is the knight so loathe to look upon his lady?"

Seifer held his breath, afraid to move, lest he disturb the lovely woman standing before him. Her head lifted when he next spoke, guarded blue eyes searching wicked jade for a hint of ridicule, the sharp teasing bite of refusal. "Never, Lady. I loathe thee not." The White Knight reached again for her ribbon, the movement pulling her even closer to him, both holding tightly to the shimmering fabric. Drawing her hand to his mouth, he kissed the ribbon wound around her fingers. "Tis fear of a broken heart that forces this humble knight to seek solace from thine ethereal beauty."

"Seifer, don't do this."

"Do what, Milady?" The ribbon was gone from her grasp, now draped across his forearm. First one, then the next, his mouth waltzed across her fingers, lips dancing to the ancient music that pulsed in her wrist.

"Th...the quotes and the…" Quistis was lost. Arrogance and pride and hateful vanity melted from the man kissing her hand, leaving behind nothing but Seifer.

"And do the quotes offend Milady?" Seifer wrapped one arm around her slim waist, allowing the other to explore the singular arch of her thumb, the musculature that moved under her scented skin.

"No, it's not that."

"That's good then, 'cause the last bit wasn't a quote." The hand on her waist moved higher, stopping only when he reached the warmth of her neck under that fantastically wind-blown hair.

"Please stop."

"Mmm. Stop what, Milady?" Mouth in palm, murmuring against her skin, Seifer continued courting his fair lady. He smiled against her when he felt her fingers caress his bruised cheekbone; long, slim fingers a balm to his injured face.

"Stop kissing my hand, Seifer. Please, stop kissing my hand." Quistis felt her left arm snake around his shoulders when he gently bit into the flesh of her fingertips.

"As you wish, Milady." He dropped her hand and crushed her to his chest, seizing her mouth with his own, chivalry forgotten. He was warmth and sun and fire, a sinful flame over her throat, white-hot tongue searing a scorching path across her shoulders. Quistis couldn't hear the voices in her head over the sudden rush of heated silence. Even the vicious wind seemed to die down, giving them just a moment to...

"Sir! There you are! We've torn this faire apart looking for you, ya know!" Raijin and Fujin bounded into the alley, bringing with them the previously hushed din of the faire; shouting crowds, the ringing clash of weapons, and the blaring trumpets that signaled the start of the second portion of the archery contest. "We gotta go, ya know. If you're not there, then you automatically forfeit, ya...oh." Fujiin slapped Raijin in the back of the head when she saw the tightly locked couple. "DUMBFUCK." Pinching his ear, she dragged him out of the alley, certain that they had just ruined Seifer's afternoon.

Quistis pulled away from Seifer, breathless, lips bruised, completely shocked that she had just... "I..I'm sorry. I have to go." Clutching her skirts, she tore out of the alley, trying desperately to ignore her screaming inner voice. Seifer stalked out right behind her, but lost sight of her in the crowd.

"Fucking morons." Shoving his way through the rude throng, throwing elbows into actors and spectators alike, he tried to find his lady, but she was gone. Seething and cursing, he stomped back to his bow, furious that he had to send his arrow towards a dead heart of cork instead of the beating warmth of his lady love. Damn the faire, damn the time, damn the wind, and damn her. Everything was so much easier before she decided to grace the festival with her presence.

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Note: Used two more Shakespeare lines. Trust me, if you go to a Renfaire, you will bloody damn drown in Shakespeare. And cheap wine. If you didn't believe me the first time, believe me now when I say I love these fucking things. So, I've used lines from Macbeth and A Midsummer Night's Dream. And Cosmo Canyon is straight outta FFVII. Plus, back in my misbehaving, sweet Mary Jane days, I had a pipe named Cosmo Sally. Ah, memories...

Also, since Tequila Princess was so very, very disappointed in Quistis in Cards and Questions, I tried to make the smooching scene here a little bit less...well, bitchy. Also, a big, huge, huggy thanks to altol (who has written THE single greatest Seifer/Quistis tale that exists. Fire and Ice, at least to me, is the be-all, end-all of all S and Q fiction.), cerespallas, champylin, chickabo, Einskameit, Melete, Ms Starlight, Nikpt-o, Wonder Woman herself...The Lady Isis, and those other delightful people that have left such wonderful, encouraging comments on my stories. These are a HELL of a lot more fun when people are so nice.