"Squall?"

"…………"

"Honey? You did a great job today."

"……….."

"Lord Leonhart? Come on, honey. Don't worry so much. You've beaten him once already and I'm sure you'll have no problems tomorrow."

"…………"

"You know, most knights don't ignore their ladies."

"………."

Rinoa blew raven hair out of her eyes and tapped her fingers on the table. She was being ignored and she didn't like it. Not one bit. Squall had yet to speak a word to her about the results of the archery tournament and she was losing patience with him. Yes, he had been defeated by Almasy and humiliated by the hooting laughter of Selphie and Xu when he joined them in the stands, but that was no reason for her noble knight to give her the silent treatment.

Squall didn't like to lose and he really didn't like to be reminded about it. Unable to decide which hurt worse, losing to Almasy or Rinoa trying to cheer him up, Squall took another pull from his stein. The thick foam coated his lips and dripped down his chin, but he was a little too drunk to care.

Rinoa squeezed his arm. "Honey, don't drink too much, or you'll have a hangover tomorrow. You never really drink, so I think this stuff is hitting you pretty hard."

"………..hiccup…………"

"Why don't we get out of here and go see Zell? I think he's the bloke in the 'Soak A Bloke' show. It should really be funny and we can forget about the tournament for a while. Irvine said that it's pretty good and they have an all female version too. 'Wench Drenching' or 'Drench A Wench' or something like that. He's looked forward to this show since the faire opened."

Squall almost chuckled. Irvine would look forward to a show where busty women in revealing bodices were dunked into frigid water. It was the medieval equivalent of a wet t-shirt contest. Instead, he shook his head and tried to stand from the table. Rinoa was right; Seifer was probably already asleep, resting for the big event. There was no way in hell Squall planned on giving Seifer an advantage in anything, even something as simple as a few extra winks of sleep. Standing proved to be one hell of a challenge, since somebody had obviously snuck behind him and tampered with the floor. Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to make the floor wiggly? It was flat when he started drinking…

Rinoa tried once more to gain the attention of the Black Knight after he finally collapsed next to her again. Playfully poking his cheek, she said in a singsong voice, "M'lord? M'loooooorrrddd? Did M'lord quaff a bit too much? M'lord? M'lord! Answer me right now, damn it! Aren't you supposed to answer the summons of your lady?" Squall shrugged and Rinoa almost felt jealous of Quistis for an instant. At least her knight was ready to pay her some attention, whether she wanted it or not. In spite of what Quisty thought, Rinoa could tell that Seifer had it bad for the instructor. Through the entire archery contest, she saw Seifer searching the stands for a very particular someone between his shots. She wished that Quistis had actually stuck around to see him looking for her instead of running off to find that damned coffee. She wished that Squall had waved or winked or…anything really. Humph. He didn't even bother to take his eyes off the target! Now he was ignoring her again! Muscles twitched in Rinoa's cheeks and she felt an evil smile raise the corners of her mouth. "You know, I bet that Lord Almasy is speaking to his lady right now. I bet that he is telling her that she's beautiful and divine and…"

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

Later, after the dust had settled and the last of the screaming customers had fled the mead tent, she told security that a madman with a spiked war-hammer and a crazy look in his eyes had entered the festivities and chopped the table to ale-soaked splinters. It wouldn't do at all for the hero of the faire to be arrested for drunken assault on a rented picnic table. Thankfully, Squall had hidden his sword under his cape once he realized that the oaken boards were already dead, and no amount of frenzied chopping would kill them any more.

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Pop.

"God! Stop it!"

Crackle.

"Please!"

Creeeeak.

"That's terrible!"

POP!

"No more! I can't take it!"

"Alright. That is it. You people wanted to know about torture, so I'm trying to make it realistic. If someone was stretched on the rack, then their joints would sound just like this."

POP! CREAK! SNAP!

The black-hooded executioner pulled the handle again and a skinny, misshapen leg popped out of its socket. Four women passed out, a man shrieked and ran into the night, and somewhere below knee level, a sick little bastard giggled. "Hee hee! Hey, I want to see some blood! Can we see the thumb screws next? Or the Iron Maiden? Or that thing that you twist until the foot gets smashed in that weird boot? Or the…"

"Oh God, no! Please stop!"

Xu thought she was doing a great job, but with the exception of the psychopath-in-training, the last tour group of the night didn't agree. In her attempt to bring an element of realism to the woefully inaccurate spectacle that was the Balamb Faire, she had tried everything from cracking walnuts in her palms to snapping twigs over her knees in hopes of approximating the sound of broken and mistreated cartilage. During lunch one afternoon, after listening to Zell's rather guttural ingestion of a turkey leg, the twisted bird of inspiration lodged its bony talons into her brain. Of course! If one wanted to make the demonstration of the rack believable, then one had to actually throw someone on the rack!

Alas, even the largest of bribes weren't enough to get approval for a human to go on the rack, so Xu had been forced to resort to other, more legal measures. The cafeteria ladies would be forever grateful. After the trucks would arrive with their shipment of cheerfully optimistic turkeys, Xu would be called to do a few public beheadings. These were always enormously successful. The crowds cheered and threw flowers towards the chopping block, shouting God's will be done! and Huzzah! with the bloodthirsty zeal that most civilized societies tried to eliminate. (Unless it was profitable, then a thirst for blood was encouraged. In the case of the faire, Selphie insisted that free rain ponchos be handed out at the executions to increase the size of the crowds.) The turkeys were then sent to the kitchens, where the legs were seasoned and roasted, and the rest of the formerly-optimistic birds would be tossed in stewpots. It amused Xu to think that people could ignore the fact that their lunches were happily gobbling amongst themselves one minute, then being, well, gobbled the next.

Disappointed by the willful ignorance shown by most of the participants of the faire, Xu kept a couple of birds around to toss on her improvised rack for her demonstrations. Sure, it was designed for use on an average-sized human, but with a bit of rope and a lot of ingenuity, the rack became a gigantic meat tenderizer. After all, somebody had to make at least one aspect of the faire accurate. The jousts were a joke, the costumes were a hodge-podge of cross-century styles, and the music used didn't even reflect the political climate of the fifteenth century. At least they'd leave the faire with a good idea of what torture was really like.

"How can you do that to those poor birds?"

Surprised by the question, the ever-pragmatic Xu stopped turning the handle and looked through the eyeholes of her hood, carefully examining her inquisitor. Those poor birds? The damned thing was headless and well past the point of mortal poultry concerns, but she was expected to show concern for food? "What? It's not like it'll be going to waste. I do plan on eating it later."

Perhaps it was her muffled tone, or maybe it was the fact that her eyes couldn't be seen; it might have even been her massive axe or the fearsome hood, but something about Xu made the dungeon clear out in a hurry that night. In the main thoroughfare of the faire, the ground quaked from the stampede that resulted when the panicked crowd from the dungeon merged with the frightened drunks from the mead tent.

"Oi! What are you runnin' from?"

"A madman in the mead tent! And you?"

"An executioner with a decapitated turkey and a really big axe!"

"Oh jolly good! Welcome to our little panic!"

Watching the costumed patrons disappear, Xu shrugged and rolled her eyes. Some people just couldn't handle history. Xu undid the restraints securing the turkey to the rack and lifted it, carefully judging the weight of the bird. Even though all of that torture worked up one hell of an appetite, she knew that she couldn't eat the huge turkey by herself. Swinging her axe on her shoulder and her future dinner by her hip, Xu left the dungeon and its very interesting paraphernalia to find Quistis. She whistled a merry tune and began the search for her blonde tent mate. She hadn't seen her since the first part of the archery contest and she was beginning to get a bit worried.

Thanks to her hood and axe, Xu was so accustomed to an unimpeded path that she was shocked to find her way blocked by a very broad chest and a nice set of abs. Her face slammed into a solid set of pectoral muscles and she looked up in offended surprise. "Hey! Watch it! There's a chick with an axe coming through here! Wait a tic…it's YOU!"

Seifer quickly jumped back, his hand on the pommel of his broadsword. In his quest to find his lovely lady, he wasn't expecting to be thumped in the chest by a hooded witch with a bloody wing'd familiar. "Ye gods! Plague me no more, foul spirit! Away, lest I smite thee with…wait…Xu?"

"Yeah? What of it?"

Grinning, Seifer grabbed Xu by the shoulders and enthusiastically shook her. Four hours of searching and he had yet to find a single clue to Quistis' whereabouts. But Xu would know. Hopefully, anyway. The White Knight was worried. Very worried. A madman with a warhammer and a grudge against tables was rumored to be loose on the grounds and he knew that his lady would need her knight for protection. Well…on second thought, the madman might be the one to need protection if he tried to tangle with Quistis, but it was the principle of the thing, damn it. She may not have needed his protection, but he wanted her to want it. What good was a knight if he couldn't protect his lady?

More than this though, he wanted to ask her about that kiss…Damn her to the depths of the abyss! Why did she have to wear that costume? And why did she have to be so soft and so fucking pretty? And who the hell taught her to kiss like that? And why the hell was he thinking in italics so much? "Thank the gods! Speak! Hast thou spied my lady fair?"

"What the hell? Who?"

"Why, none other than the sublime goddess whose golden beauty makes Aphrodite herself weep in bitter jealousy! The bright star that even now may be in…"

"Wait, wait, wait. Who the HELL are you talking about? How much wine have you had tonight?" Xu shook off his hands and sniffed his breath, trying to determine just how drunk Seifer Almasy would have to be to compliment any living soul…other than himself. Hmm….stone cold sober. "Did you get hit in the head?"

"Nay, night bride of death. I am on a quest to find milady and tell her of my…"

Xu laughed and the hollow sound made the few remaining spectators scatter to safer, less-terrifying corners of the faire. A giggling executioner was just a bit too creepy. "Well, you certainly had a long line of buxom idiots winking at you in the wine tent. Which of your groupies did you finally convince to be your lady, eh Almasy?"

Were there other women at the faire? He didn't recall any other women…Wait. Oh yes, the harlots and whores that sought his attention… eh, none of them mattered. Since his first glimpse of Quistis at the joust, he hadn't noticed them any more than he noticed the flies buzzing around the stables. Disgusted by her suggestion, Seifer waved off the cruel jest. "Those painted wenches tempt me not."

"Oh really? Painted wenches, eh? Well, well, well. Lord Almasy has gone all noble. Funny thing."

"Alas, I shall find no rest until milady honors me with another summer snow glance. She is both a blessing and a curse, and I fear a descent into madness should I be banish'd from her favor." It was very true. Since that wonderful windswept kiss, Seifer had been a distracted armor-clad wreck. The tournament, once a way to coerce Quistis into shaming herself in that costume, was now nothing more than a barrier separating him from his lady. Seifer meant for her to sashay around a bit so he could make a few lewd jokes and see her blush. He meant to see how many peanuts he could throw at her cleavage before she would slap the hell out of him. He meant to win the tournament so Quistis would be forced to strut her stuff and jiggle a bit while he watched and laughed. But now…oh, but now! The tournament be damned, he just wanted to find her. The knight sought his lady and nothing else mattered. Smiling, he stroked the ribbon on his arm and spoke in a soft voice, "I seek the beautiful Lady Trepe."

Xu's jaw dropped. That was the same ribbon Quistis had in her hair when she left to find coffee that afternoon. Why did Seifer Almasy have her ribbon? Adjusting her grip on both the axe handle and the turkey, she fixed Seifer with a menacing glare. As soon as her eyes narrowed, she remembered that the black hood covered her face and he couldn't see the evil expression on her face. Oops. Since her glare was ineffective, she instead peppered her tone with a bit more malice and stirred gently. The throaty rumble of her vocal cords made Seifer take a step backwards. "Why the bloody hell do you have her fucking ribbon? And why are you looking for her anyway?"

"Ah! Milady favored me with this ribbon when the wind gods sent her to…HEY! QUIT SWINGING THAT DAMNED TURKEY!"

"Oh! Right! How silly of me!" Snarling, Xu switched attacks and charged with the axe, but Seifer ducked just in time to miss the keen edge as it whistled over his head. "Where is she? I've not seen her since this afternoon. What have you done with her?"

"Stop it, you crazy fucking bitch! I've not done anything to her, but I need to find her so I can…QUIT IT!"

"Stop dodging!" Xu lamented the absence of her chopping block. Executing a person was much harder than killing a turkey, especially when the person in question happened to be very athletic and very, very opposed to losing his head. Watching the muscles flex under his tunic, Xu had to admit that he made dodging a heavy blade look very good. It was no wonder Quistis blushed every time he happened to smile at…oh dear. Xu finished her last sweep with the axe and planted the butt of the handle in the ground. "Alright, Lord Almasy. I'm listening. Why are you looking for her?"

Seifer warily eyed the seven-foot bladed behemoth as he answered Xu. "Well, see…the thing is, we have a bet going about this tournament."

"Yes. And? Quistis has already told me about it." Xu tilted her head and Seifer found himself wishing that he had carried more than just his sword...he wanted his shield, helmet and a really big, really heavy stick. She was scary enough on her best days, but Xu dressed as the recruiting officer for Death's Army was downright frightening. "She didn't mention the exact terms, though. Every time I asked, she refused to tell me."

Seifer started to push his way past, but decided to answer her when she threatened him again with her turkey. All things considered, she was being rather gracious. It could have been the axe again. "Yeah, she wouldn't tell you. Trust me. But, that really doesn't matter now, because I need to find her to call off the bet. I just can't do it to her." Well, not anymore. There were a lot of other things he wanted to do to her, but they certainly didn't need to be broadcasted to the general public. Unless Quistis happened to be into that sort of thing, which Seifer doubted. Although…

"Do what, exactly?"

Seifer thought that snowmen would be buying condos in hell before he told Xu his plans for her best friend while she held the steak knife of the Titans in her hands. "Just…don't worry about it. If you see her, tell her I'm looking for her. It's important."

Xu glared at him again, but nodded in agreement. She didn't care for Seifer, but she wanted to find Quistis as badly as he did. The more people searching for her, the better. "Fine. But if you find her before I do, send her to me. I'm worried about her. She's acting kind of…crazy lately." Seifer grinned, then started his search anew.

Xu shook her head as she watched him wander off, shouting for his lady fair. The faire was certainly making people act odd.

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

"Oh dearie me."

Quistis jerked awake at the sound of crackling leaves and too-close-for-comfort breathing. She hadn't meant to doze off in the middle of the woods, but too much wine and Irvine's chocobo greens were more potent a combination than she originally thought. "Who's there?"

"Oh dearie me. Lost in the woods, are you? Mercy, mercy." Wrinkled fingers grabbed Quistis by the arm and helped her to her feet. The old fortune teller pulled leaves from her hair and wrapped a moth-eaten cloak around her shoulders. "You're frozen, child. Why are you sleeping in the leaves instead of with your brave knight, eh? Didn't you go to the right vendor this afternoon?"

Quistis squinted at the short figure leading her deeper into the forest. The silver luminosity of the moon was shadowed and broken by the dense branches, fading to an invisible glow as they wound around tree trunks and twisted roots. Quistis had no trouble following the hag, even though she was blinded by the darkness. How the hell did this old woman keep finding her and why the fuck did she care so much about Seifer? Where the hell were they walking, anyway? "I, uh, tried to find the right vendor, but I was distracted."

"Oh really? Mmm…distracted, yes. Distracted by a handsome fellow dressed in white, maybe? Did he keep you from your coffee? I daresay you found something much tastier than that nasty coffee though, didn't you?"

Quistis felt her chest hitch again at the memory of Seifer's lips on hers and his warm hands on her back and shoulders and…well, everything. It had been such a wonderful afternoon and such a terribly disappointing night. "Well, the wind blew the ribbon from my hair and I found S-Seifer and he was holding my ribbon, then he was holding me…then…tent…eye-patch…too big…now I'm lost and…"

The fortune teller sighed in exasperation. She normally helped chambermaids become royalty and helped exiled princes reclaim their thrones. Blondes were her specialty, but never before had she worked with such a stubborn girl. The long-haired nutcase in the tower was bad, and she didn't want to even try to remember all the trouble she had with the narcoleptic princess, but this girl was really causing her some problems. She blamed it on the Women's Liberation movement. They just didn't make damsels in distress like they used to back in her day. Then again, this girl wouldn't be a good distressed damsel in any time period. It was no wonder that the knight liked her so much. "Dearie, what the hell are you babbling about?"

Quistis wished that she hadn't been abandoned by her inner voice. She certainly wouldn't have stuttered her way through a reenactment of the days events. She would have been able to easily say, Oh, yes. Thank you ever so much for sending me to find Seifer this afternoon. I think I've just fallen head over heels for him, which is unfortunate because I believe that I will kill the cheating bastard if I ever see him again. And no, I never did get that coffee. Her inner voice would have also made a few vulgar references to his anatomy, but Quistis couldn't be bothered with that at the moment. It was actually lonely without the crazy bitch. "I'm not babbling! I just…"

The witch clapped her hand over Quistis' mouth and pulled her down into the leaves. "Shh! D'you hear that?"

Quistis listened, but all she could hear was the soft sigh of leaves as they flirted with each other and fell to the ground. Jerking her chin, she was able to free her mouth from the clutching hands of the fortune teller. "I don't hear a damn thing. We need to…Wait…yes! I hear a voice!" Wondering what sort of lunatic hatchet murderer might be wandering the forest at such a late hour, Quistis tried to convince the old woman that it might be a good idea to head back to the faire. "Look lady, considering the luck I've had today, we might want to go back. I don't want to meet some psycho in the woods and…"

"Would you shut your trap and listen? That sure doesn't sound like a madman to me. He actually has a nice voice. I bet he'd be a good singer." Quistis listened again to the rich baritone as the mysterious voice drew closer and closer to their perch in the fallen leaves.

It was the sort of voice that could make a girl go all aquiver in her liver. Quistis blinked as she heard rapid mental footsteps and a shaking hand try to insert a mental key into a locked mental front door.

'All aquiver in your liver?' Are you fucking kidding me? I leave you for only six hours while I go out for a beer and you come up with something like that? I've taught you better than that, darling.

Oh! There you are! I was worried! And yes…I can't think up zingers like you, er me, whatever.

Worried were you? Well, well. I thought you were eager to be rid of me.

Well, yes. I was, but now I…

Shh! Listen! You do recognize that voice, don't you? You know…I'm well aware that he's a lying twat that needs to be slowly, painfully and publicly castrated, but I can't help but wonder just what we might do if that voice happened to be rumbling against our …

Quistis slapped herself in the forehead. It bloody damn figured. The person that she least wanted to see would be the very same one that happened to be wandering in the woods, searching for…

"Milady!"

Ancient purple eyes focused on Quistis and a gummy grin parted the wrinkled hemispheres of the old woman's face when she saw the obvious stress in the younger girl's expression. She reconsidered her earlier position. This girl was quite possibly the most distressed…well, at least the most stressed damsel she had ever seen. If something didn't change soon, this pretty blonde would probably end up as a cackling hag tempting war heroes into the moors to commit regicide. "Hmm. I believe that lad is looking for you."

"I want nothing to do with that bastard."

"Oh really? And why is that, dear?"

Quistis thought she had clamped her mouth shut, but soon heard her unwilling voice spilling every embarrassing event that happened to her that afternoon, starting with how good it felt to have such a handsome man being so smitten with her to how humiliated she was when she discovered Fujin on top of her knight. The fortune teller had to be a witch.

"Hmm. Yes, yes, that could be a problem. A big problem." Bracelets clanged against each other as the old woman thoughtfully tapped her chin. Didn't these whippersnappers know how these things worked? "So, I gather that you are a bit disappointed in your knight, eh?"

"Disappointed? Hell yes I'm disappointed!" Quistis' voice was so loud that she failed to notice that Seifer had heard her and was rapidly approaching her screaming form. "I thought I might have actually meant something to him, but it turns out I was really, really wrong! I am fortune's bloody fucking fool! Now he's one event away from winning the tournament and I'll have to…" Quistis shut her mouth when she saw the witch lift her wrinkled hand and wave. "Ye gods. He's right behind me, isn't he-eeeeee?!?" Shrieking as she was lifted into the air, Quistis tried to struggle out of the tight grip of one extremely relieved knight.

"Milady! Gods be praised! I've searched the length and breadth of yon bustling faire and now…OW!" Seifer gingerly licked his lip where Quistis elbowed him. She must have really been pissed off about that kiss to hit him so hard. If she had been a man, he would have slugged her in the mouth before she even had time to blink, but he couldn't do that to his lady. "Milady! I wish to tell you…OOF! Ye gods, my scepter and orbs…" Collapsing onto the damp forest floor, Seifer curled into a ball and tried to regain his breath.

Ooh! Fantastic shot, darling.

It was pretty good, wasn't it?

I daresay he'll have to visit the smithy to have THAT sword reforged, eh?

Yes, it may be tough for him to ride a horse…

Or anything else, for that matter…

Ha! But as I was saying, it will be difficult for him to ride his horse in the joust tomorrow, so if Squall doesn't screw up, then my worries may be over!

"Goddamnit, why'd you have to kick me in the jewels?" With the aid of the chuckling witch, Seifer pulled himself up and angrily shouted at Quistis, "What the hell is wrong with you? Alright, Milady, maybe I shouldn't have kissed you earlier, but I didn't think you were that fucking opposed to it! You seemed to really be enjoying it, so don't try to pretend that I've…"

"You are such an asshole! I didn't kick you because of that kiss! As a matter of fact…"

Oh yes! That kiss was enough to make us wonder if we shouldn't try to climb…

Hands at her temples, Quistis closed her eyes and screamed, "SHUT UP!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"Not you!"

"Then who the hell are you telling to shut up?"

"I'm telling you to shut up now! Or can't you understand me? Let me translate for you…Bite thy silver tongue, wretch. This lady hath no need for honey'd words and empty oaths. False knight be gone from my presence. Go quest for your holy grail, fall off the boat on your way to Avalon, battle with the Rabbit of Caerbannog, I don't care…just get the hell away from me! I don't want to hear any more of your 'Milady' bullshit."

Seifer didn't quite know what to make of this sudden attack. He expected to have her yell at him, maybe even throw something at his head, but not this. A false knight? Ouch. "You seemed to like it earlier!"

"Well, that was before you fucked your damned squire!"

"My squire…I didn't…" Seifer absently ran his fingers over the satin band on his arm. This was not exactly what he had planned when he hoped to find his lady. Instead of his golden star queen, he found himself battling a beast far more fearsome than any dragon or hydra. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, you crazy broad!"

"Finally! The White Knight shows his true colors! I knew that you never meant it when you said all of those nice things to me! I've always just been a crazy broad to you! And why the hell do you still have my ribbon?" Quistis tore the ribbon from Seifer's arm and gave him a final hurt glance. "Hmm. Maybe I'll find somebody that deserves this tomorrow at the joust. Good luck at the joust tomorrow, Seifer." With that, Quistis stalked back towards the faire, slipping on leaf mould and stumbling over gnarled roots.

"I fucking hate it when people wish me luck, Instructor!" Seifer watched Quistis bounce away, utterly flabbergasted at her accusations. What a bitch! A real hot bitch, but a bitch nonetheless.

"Well…that went rather well, don't you think?" Oh yeah. That old hag was still lurking around. What the hell did she want from him? Come to think of it, what did she want with Quistis? "You know, I saw this coming from a mile away. This is how these sort of things work until…"

Seifer ground his teeth together and tried to focus on non-homicidal thoughts. Think of her face once you win the tournament. She'll be humiliated and humbled. Think of her expression tomorrow when you force her to shake her shimmy and jiggle those cans. Think of…oh, it's useless. Something must have happened to her to make her freak out like that. "Look, you might be a fortune teller or an oracle or one of…"

"An oracle? Holy hell, son! Don't you dare compare me to one of those mouthy hussies!" The old woman stuck her chin in the air. "I happen to be an auricle!"

"Don't you listen? That's what I just said!"

"Heh! That's the thing! The very thing! I listen. Oracles tell you what to do, but they never listen. That's where I come in, laddie."

"It's the same damn word!"

"You damned idiot! Auricle--with an 'A', not Oracle--with an 'O'! Your little lady friend sure would have picked up on it if you hadn't scared her away!"

"Me? She just kicked the shit out of me and I'm the one that scared her away? Are you blind?"

"Oh aye. She kicked you, alright, but she thinks she's justified. A woman scorned and all that, you see. You didn't even give her a chance to tell you what was botherin' her."

"I didn't give her a cha…are you kidding me? Do you know what she was talking about, because I'm pretty fucking lost!"

Gently patting Seifer on the arm, the old wise woman pointed him in the direction of her wagon. "Get to walkin' laddie. We'll make some tea, then I'll explain some things to you. It'll make much better sense once you see what she saw. You could do with a lesson in listenin' anyway."

Seifer really didn't want to go back to that wagon, but he did want to see why Quistis turned from a beautiful lady to a half-mad banshee. "Well, which is it? Am I going to see something or am I going to listen to you?"

"Sonny…shut the hell up. You'll find out soon enough."

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Note: Sorry, but I just don't like this chapter. It's kind of blah and very rushed, but I needed to get through it so I can get to the next one, which should be much, much better. It at least has some structure. I apologize for so much filler. I would have just skipped it, but that wouldn't make any sense at all. Please forgive me. Also used some more from Willie S., some fairy tale references, and a wee tribute to Monty Python. And I'm pretty sure that an auricle is actually part of the ear, but I thought it would be fun to play with that word for the little fortune teller chick. So, now that I have this frickin' chapter out of the way, I can get work on the joust chapter, which I've wanted to do since I started this thing.