Note: I hope everyone has seen either Robin Hood: Men in Tights or Austin Powers 2 or 3.Try to imagine the illuminated-silhouette-behind-fabric when picturing the scene with Seifer and Fujin in the tent. Oh, and I hope everyone has been forced to read the Canterbury Tales at some point in life, specifically the Miller's Tale. I would recommend reading it, but then I would shoot myself. FRUSTRATING! Read the Cliff's Notes or a translated version. Damn, that is a WHOLE different kind of English.
(Huh, Beavis, you said 'hole')
Yeah, just read it. And you'll see why Butthead hijacked my computer just then. I think that Chaucer would be the only thing that Beavis and Butthead would have ever read in school, just because of a certain few tales...
Also, a HUGE thanks to Aurenare... who allowed me to use her idea about Quistis' hair in this chapter. She is also now one of my all-time favorite people for giving me permission to use this, and for working so very hard on her wonderful Quistis sketch. Thank you!!!!!
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Stars sleepily blinked as the heavens pulled the sunset orange blanket from their slumbering faces and forced them to start their shifts in the indigo sky-mines. Reluctantly, they started to shine through the branches onto the festival below, twinkling and sparkling under the watchful eye of their lunar overseer. Had they not been so busily occupied with their cosmic duties, they might have noticed the glittering sparks from a forge and the glittering of wings as a blacksmith and a fairy tried to outdrink one another.
And if the moon happened to take her silver eye from her starshine miners, she might have been jealous to see that the tipsy pair had a greater appreciation for their moonshine than her own.
"Okay, okay, okay...so there was a knight, a nun, a miller, and a monk that were in this party too?"
"O' aye, lassie. 'Twas quite a motley bunch that went on that trrrrip." Toothless Pete began to drift back into the speech patterns of his homeland with every sip of liquid hell he had brought with him from Timber. Selphie often giggled when he did this, asking him if he was a big fan of marshmallow cereal and if he enjoyed making buckles for shoes. One evening, a furious Pete had chased Selphie out of his forge with a white-hot poker and a set of tongs, threatening to make her fairy wings a permanent part of her anatomy.
Oh, she loved Pete. He was so much fun. And she really loved his moonshine. It was fun too. Until it decided to come back up, and then it wasn't quite as much fun. Unless she puked through her nose. Then it was like getting drunk all over again! Yeah, that was fun. Oh wait...Pete was talking about some pilgrimage...wait, no, he was finished...time to respond...
"You're tellin' me! Holy hell! It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke." Selphie turned up Toothless Pete's flask and took another mighty swig of the burning moonshine. Sputtering and coughing, she passed the flask back to Pete with a mischievous glint in her pixie-green eyes. "Hee hee! I bet when that dude wrote it, he was thinking to himself... 'A knight, a nun, and a miller walk into a bar'... or even better, 'A miller, a landlord, and the landlord's wife walk into a barn and run into a parish clerk, so the miller turns to the clerk and says..."
"But lass, 'tis far moor complicated than jest a wee storrrry!" Pete remembered his rendition of that particular verse and blushed. Sure, he was very, very, very drunk, but that didn't mean that he should have told that bawdy tale to such an umm, innocent young lady. "And I don't want to be knowin' where ye were plannin' in goin' with that! 'Tis bad enough that I be seein' thrrree of ye in all o' yer glittery glamour! Me own beloved mudder would tan me hide fer drinkin' with one of the wee folk!"
Pete looked at Selphie in sudden terror. His mother, God Rest her soul, was from the old country and she had believed in the frightening supernatural powers of the little people. To avoid the wrath of the wee ones, she nightly left bowls of milk on the doorstep and carefully stepped around mushroom circles when she walked through the forests of Timber. Had she seen her dear, darlin' Pete sippin' illegal whiskey with a sprite, she would have turned the giant man on her knee and beat the sin right out of him. "Ye are jest disguised as one o' the fey, aren't ye? Ye'll not be takin' me down into yer fairy land to make me slave away in yer mushroom palaces, will ye?"
"Mushroom palaces? You're starting to sound like Irvy!" Winking at Pete, she tapped the anvil under her ass with her magic wand. "And besides, if I were a real fairy, I couldn't be around all this iron without bursting into flame or turning to stone or something fucking awesome like that." Or could she? Hmm. Better ask Quisty. She was always the one that knew about fairy tales.
Yes. Of course. She couldn't be a real fairy and touch iron. Whew! Pete was seconds away from running out of his forge to find the nearest dairy and a big empty bowl until Selphie said this. "O' aye! And wherrrre is yer strrrrappin' lad this evenin'?"
Selphie put her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her hands. Sighing, she said, "He lost the tournament today and now he's gone to find Quisty, 'cause she's gone all bonkers today, so I got bored and came to see you."
Pete patted her on the shoulder, knocking more glitter to the floor of his forge. She was a good-hearted lass and he couldn't stand seeing her so depressed. "Ah lass, but that'll mean that he has morrre time to spend with ye! Now ye can enjoy the rest of the tourrrrnament without all of the prrrressurrrre." The pixie brightened, smiled, then leapt off the anvil and ran to the door. "Hey! You're right, Pete! You're the smartest blacksmith with a limp and a funny accent that I know!"
That same limping blacksmith froze when she turned back and he saw the demonic twist in her lips. "Hee hee! Maybe he can help us find your lucky charms! Hoo Hoo!"
Selphie had to use all of her pixie powers to avoid the hammer Pete threw at her head. It was a good thing she liked him so much, or she might have cast a magic spell on him.
Pete chuckled as he stuck another bit of slag into the forge. Yes, she was a good lass. A terrible fairy, but still...
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Cough
Cough
COUGH!!!
Quistis giggled at Irvine, who was coughing deeply after inhaling too much smoke from his pipe. He passed it back to her, enormously happy to see that she also appreciated the fruits of hydroponic cultivation. Whatever the fuck that was. He didn't know what the hell she was talking about, but she seemed happy enough to babble about it. She had theories about Chocobo greens that he couldn't have thought up on his best days. The battle between a giant turkey and a chocobo didn't seem nearly as important when she started yapping about genetic variation and selective breeding.
When he had found her wandering through the maze of tents that evening, he noticed that she was acting a bit...distracted. Quistis was never distracted. She was quite possibly the most focused person he knew, except for maybe Seifer...and then again, perhaps too much focus on another focused person was the cause of her distraction. She really needed to just fucking relax.
"So you see, Irvine, experimentation and exploitation of particular traits in wild plants have led to these potent strains of Chocobonis sativa that you so enjoy. From what I recall of the studies done by Doctor Thomas Chong and his partner..." Quistis hit the pipe, smiling as she blew out a large smoke ring that lost it's way in the branches overhead. She watched it disappear, wondering if the smoke ring was in love with one of the stars twinkling above them. It seemed so very eager to escape her throat and climb to the heavens. Surely it had a celestial lover waiting on it's return...
Irvine was impressed by her smoke-blowing skills, but he was still worried about her. Even if she was high, Quistis Trepe never giggled. He loved looking at the sky too, but she seemed to be using it as an excuse to not look at him. Either that, or she was stoned out of her fucking gourd. "Who did a study, Quistis?"
"Hmm? Oh, it's not important..." Without taking her eyes from the sky, she handed the pipe back to the ranger. He watched the stars appear and disappear as branches and dry leaves obscured his view.
"Irvine?"
"Yeah?"
"How did...how did you do in the archery contest today?" She finally looked at him, blowing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. She would have killed for her flat-iron, but she had left it in her dorm at Garden. With all of the wind...
Plus your knight grabbing fistfuls of your hair and pulling it the way you like it and...
Shut up! I was there, remember?
Okay, darling. Just so you don't blame it all on the wind.
...and yes, Seifer grabbing her hair, she figured that she would never be able to get it tamed again. She planned to spend the next week back at Garden ironing out all of the waves that appeared whenever she didn't keep strict control over her blonde locks. Fuck.
Oh, stop worrying about it. If it was up to ME, you'd chuck that damned flat-iron and those horrible clips out of the window and just let your hair go. We...you look better this way.
Shut up! It doesn't look professional at all and...
No, you shut up! You do realize that the way you always wear your hair screams 'I have a stick up my ass!'
It does not! Does it?
Oh, darling...we'll talk about this later. You better pay attention to the cowboy, er... ranger...whatever the hell he is if you want to find out how your knight fared at the competition.
I asked about HIS performance, not Seifer's.
Keep telling yourself that, darling. You may eventually believe it.
"Oh, you know me. I never miss my target." He grinned at her unspoken question, well aware that she wanted to ask about Seifer, until he looked over and saw her sad expression. Hmm. Maybe she wasn't as stoned as he thought.
"Oh."
"Oh, come on, Quistis. I know you weren't really worried about my performance today. You're wondering about somebody else." It was getting very dark, but he could tell that she was blushing. Quistis had a weird way of holding her breath when she was embarrassed, so he didn't need to see to know that a rose tint stained her cheeks.
"Fine. How did he do?"
He stowed the pipe in his pouch and carefully watched her reaction. "He's better than I thought. He barely beat me. Looks like Squall is going to have a hell of a time tomorrow." She almost smiled, but seemed to catch herself. Irvine was disappointed in her. "What kind of bet do you have with 'Lord Almasy' anyway?"
"I wouldn't know what you're talking about." She tried to pull the uppity 'instructor' voice with Irvine, but it never seemed to work with him. It never worked with Seifer either. Irvine patiently waited while she fidgeted and tugged at her hair. He thought she needed to wear it down more often. It suited her. It was much more...natural looking. "It's just a silly wager about the outcome of this tourn...oh, don't worry about it. I wish I hadn't even agreed to it."
"Why?"
She hesitated. "Well, it's because..."
Irvine waited again while she sorted her thoughts. If he had known that Quistis was having a screaming batty-bitch-battle inside of her brain, he might have interrupted earlier than he did. But he just thought that she was being all pensive and Quistis-ish. He had to grab her wrist to keep her from pulling her hair out in frustration. "You want him to win now, don't you?"
"Oh God, Irvine. I don't fucking know! He's such a dickhead, so I want to win the bet and make him suffer. But then again, he can be so damn charming and make me feel like a fucking queen, and then he..."
"Well, then. Why don't you call off the bet?"
Quistis' eyes widened. Of course. That way she wouldn't have to slap him when he rubbed it in her face if he won. "Do you think that he would..."
Well, you could still slap him around a little. I bet he'd love that. A little slap and tickle...maybe you could use your whip and he could take the plume from his helmet and...
God! Shut up. I have to find him first.
Well, I'm sure he's resting for the big day tomorrow. Of course, if you do what I think you want to do, then he won't mind the intrusion. I daresay it will be welcomed with open arms and a nice, huge, warm...
Don't say it.
What? I was going to say hug, but now you have me wondering just what the hell YOU were thinking, you little minx...
Irvine tipped his hat back so he could better see the stars wheeling in the sky. It really was a beautiful night. "I reckon he might, but you'd have to ask him, not me."
Quistis gave Irvine a quick peck on the cheek and playfully tugged his ponytail. "I need to go, but thank you for listening. It means a lot to me."
Irvine smiled as Quistis left him to gaze at the moon and stars. Maybe it was just the greens, but ever-romantic Irvine thought that the astral orbs burned a bit brighter because the lady was finally seeking her knight.
"Hey Irvine!" Quistis stopped before she left the shade of the trees, turning to the ranger with glowing blue eyes that were no longer quite so...well, blue.
"Yeah?"
"You'd make a great knight, you know."
"So I've been told!"
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Quistis arrived at Seifer's camp just in time to hear muffled curses and groans. She tried to soften her footfalls, but there was no need to be stealthy, since the voices of Seifer and Fujin were loud enough to drown even the noisiest of footsteps. They had left the fire burning in the ring just outside of their tent, and she could see every shadowed movement within. Quistis blinked in disappointed shock when she saw Fujin's shadow atop Seifer's on his cot. Seifer seemed to be lying on his back, while Fujin was sitting astride his prone form.
"Damn it, Fu! Oh fuck, just slide off and let me try. I swear, I think I'll have to do it by myself..." Quistis saw Seifer's hand move down towards his hips, but Fujin grabbed his wrists and held them to the bed by his head.
"TRYING!"
"I'll never be able to...Oh God...Fujin!"
"TOO BIG." Fujin wiggled and moved, shifted and flexed. Quistis thought she was going to be sick. She stepped back when saw Raijin exit Fujin's tent and stir the fire, sending a shower of sparks in the cool air. Leaves crackled under her feet, but he didn't notice.
"Oh, don't give me that! I've watched you take on some much bigger than mine! Now keep going."
"TIRED."
"Well, use your mouth if you have to! Damn, do I have to tell you how to do everything?" Fujin released her hold on Seifer's hands to slide farther down his form. She bent down to...Quistis closed her eyes. It was too much. Damn him to hell.
"Hey boss, I need to get my...WHOA! I didn't know you had such a huge..." Quistis watched Raijin enter the tent and saw his large shadow merge with those of Seifer and Fujin as he took a seat on the cot. Quistis closed her eyes, then opened them again. Surely Seifer's loyalty to his posse didn't...oh God, extend quite that far.
"GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!" Oh good. At least he's just a cheating bastard and not a kinky freak.
"Hey Fu? Do ya need some help? 'Cause that looks like it would hurt, ya know..."
"YES! HOLD!" Quistis saw Raijin move to the head of the cot and grab Seifer's arms. He held the knight down while Fujin began...
Whatever she did, Quistis missed it. Tears clouding her vision, she stumbled through the trees, hopefully to find Xu's tent before sunrise so she could leave the fucking faire and go back to her nice, safe Garden. She sniffed and cursed, kicked every leaf that dared to cross her path, and snarled at the few Trepies that tried to ogle her. When they saw the blind fury in her icy blue eyes, they didn't even pay attention to her rack.
So...the noble Lord Almasy was a lying bastard that just wanted a warm body for sparring practice. Cocksucking son-of-a-bitch. Quistis felt like a bigger fool than Zell, just like her inner voice had mentioned earlier. She cursed Seifer, Fujin, Selphie, and herself most of all. She hadn't been humiliated like this since that god-awful night in the training center.
Even her inner voice was subdued and apologetic.
Well, darling...I'll not say I told you so.
Oh, fuck you!
I was TRYING to be supportive!
No, you just wanted to gloat!
How can I gloat when I'm as disappointed as you? It was ME wanting to visit him as well, you silly cunt!
SHUT UP!!!!
Fine! I'm leaving!
Entering the merciful darkness of the forest around the faire, Quistis sat on a stump and covered her face with her hands. She couldn't even rely on herself to support...herself. She could have sworn that she heard a mental door slam as her inner voice left her to brood alone.
"Shit."
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"Oh God! Finally!" Seifer released a shaky breath. Fujin wasn't exactly gentle when she performed first aid. The silver haired woman held aloft her hand in triumph, a massive thorn between her fingers. "HUGE!"
"Hey, sir! That's almost like that story you like so much, ya know, the one where the guy yanks the sword outta that big rock, ya know!"
Seifer laughed at Raijin's observation. "Yeah, stuck in my rock-hard abs! Good one, Raj!"
Fujin slapped Seifer on the forehead before she climbed off of him. If Raijin hadn't helped hold Seifer to the bed, she might have never pulled that sharp, hooked thorn from his belly. "REVENGE?" She wanted to go kick the ass of whatever Leonhart fan had thrown that brick and forced Seifer to duck into a briar patch to avoid a concussion, but her lord had commanded that she ignore it. He was in a strangely good mood, even though she had just extracted a piece of wood the size of his lance from his belly.
Seifer winced when he lifted himself to a sitting position. That damned thing hurt. "Naw, not tonight. I'll take care of all those assholes tomorrow. I'll beat the shit out of the Black Knight and finally get to win the lady."
Raijin blushed at this, nervously rubbing the back of his head. "Hey about that, Boss, er, Sir. We really didn't mean to stop you and the instructor, ya know. It was just a...OUCH!" Fujin kicked Raijin in the shins when she saw Seifer's face darken. "SILENCE!"
"No, it's alright, Fu. I think I scared her anyway. She would have ran off even if you guys hadn't shown up like that." Pulling his tunic back on, Seifer stepped outside to walk and think. He silently cursed himself for acting the way he did when he met Quistis in that alleyway. It seemed so damn right at the time, but looking back on it, it was probably one of the dumbest things he had ever done. Instead of treating her like the delicate lady she was, he had jumped on her like she was a two-gil whore having a half-off sale. It was no wonder that she hadn't shown up to watch him at the archery contest.
Raijin sat by Fujin and looked at her in wonder. "She sure didn't act scared to me! I thought she was gonna, ya know, like throw him down on the ground and tear his clothes off, even with all of those people around. I didn't think she had it in her, 'cause she normally acts so stuck up, ya know."
"YES."
"Should we follow him?"
"NO."
"Give him some time, right?"
Fujin nodded slowly. Brave Lord Almasy wasn't even saying methinks, knave, or smite. He had it much worse for the instructor than she had previously thought. Yes, Seifer needed some time and he really needed to speak with his lady. She hoped he would find her before the night was over or he would be absolute shit in the tournament tomorrow.