This picks up right at the end of the cut-scene "Delita's Fury", where Delita begins to almost strangle Ramza then punches Argath (everyone should always punch Argath, as soon as they see him, in my opinion). Having said, when I started this, that I wouldn't rehash cut-scenes, I'm doing just that with the first lines that Argath and Ramza say (the only real problem with that is that my version of Ramza, since he doesn't do pseudo-Shakespearean dialogue, should be saying something like "Leave! Now!" instead of "Begone!", but never mind). After that, it's all original stuff, just as usual.

Vignette 18 - After Delita's Fury

Eagrose, Beoulve Mansion, around noon

Once Ramza was reasonably certain that Delita would not attack Argath again, he cautiously let him go, though he stayed tensed to grab him again. A moment before, Delita had punched Argath so hard that the blond boy had landed on his back on the front steps of the Mansion, blood flowing freely from a split lip. Thankfully, with nothing more than a parting word of scorn for Argath, Delita stalked off.

Ramza, fuming, had then told Argath, for the second time, to get out of his sight. The other boy did not. Instead, after getting to his feet he turned to Ramza with an inscrutable smirk.

"The Brigade makes its base at Ziekden. Your Lord Brother told me himself. You've no hope of breaching the fortress from the fore. Their defences are too strong. A rear assault is your only chance. Best of luck, my soft-hearted friend. You'll need it."

"Begone!" Ramza said, close to punching the other boy himself.

Argath walked a few paces, stopped and made an obviously exaggerated shrug, then half-turned to face Ramza again.

"Of course, after what I saw last evening, I'd be more concerned for my own sister, were I you. Now there's a fortress that I think it would take very little effort for your low-born friend to breach." He gave an unpleasant laugh. "That's assuming he hasn't already, of course!

"Then again, I suppose the idea of further pollution to the blood of the Beoulves isn't likely to bother you. From what I can gather, what would another bastard of even more impure blood be to this, once great, House? It's not as if they aren't already used to concealing the existence of two, is it? A base-born bastard birthed of a base-born bastard - is there a word for one of those, I wonder?" Having finally delivered the insults he'd been contemplating for the whole of the previous evening, Argath's smirk turned decidedly self-satisfied.

The slur on his sister was almost the final straw. Ramza made as if to grab for the other boy's throat, then restrained himself, just before his fingers found purchase. He balled his hands into tight fists and slowly returned them to his sides.

"Were I you, Argath, I'd leave now! Otherwise, I'm likely to do something that will make the punch Delita gave you will feel like a soft caress, in comparison!" As he said that, Ramza's voice shook with the effort he was making not to give in and respond with violence.

Argath's face grew even more smug, before he did, finally, leave. Ramza watched the other boy swagger nonchalantly away and wondered why he hadn't just given Argath a damned good hiding while he had the chance.

When upset, Delita was, more often than not, to be found in the stables, so that was where Ramza headed to look for him. When he found him, Delita had his arms around his chocobo's neck, his face so close to the bird that his nose touched the soft feathers. Ramza thought he must be crying, but when he touched the other boy's shoulder gently, and Delita whipped around, his eyes were dry.

Ramza and Alma had both wept for Tietra, but the closest he has seen Delita come to it were the unshed tears, sitting in his eyes, the previous evening. In some ways that was more worrying. Ramza knew that Delita was still bottling his feelings up. When he occasionally did that, they still found their way out eventually – often explosively. Yes, certainly explosively, Ramza thought, unconsciously touching his still-sore neck.

"For whatever reason, Argath decided to tell me that Dycedarg told him that the Brigade seem likely to make for Ziekden with Tietra. We have to decide what to do." He said.

"All we have to do is go!" Delita said, turning to stride towards the tack room. Ramza grabbed his arm to halt him.

"I'm not saying we shouldn't go, Delita, but we need to think this through and we need to make preparations. I need you to help me, though - you're better at planning. First of all, we need to decide whether we should even trust Argath that the Brigade are at Ziekden. After what he said - including the vile things he said after you left - I don't trust that he spoke a word of truth."

"It's simple, Ramza, we just go to Dycedarg and Zal, ourselves, and ask." Delita said, sounding as if he was speaking to someone with less mental capacity than one of the chocobos.

"They'd just order us not to go. Neither of them would tell us, if they got even a hint that we'd try to rescue her ourselves." Ramza said quietly.

Delita sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Then we just go to Ziekden. It's the only lead we have. Besides, an arsenal like that is very defensible, it makes sense for them to use it." He headed again for the tack room again, this time with Ramza following.

"That's what I think, as well. We'll have to be very careful, though. No casting Fire; the whole thing is, basically, one huge powder magazine." Ramza said thoughtfully, a troubled expression on his face at the thought of the potential for disaster.

Delita shrugged at that.

"I'm no mage, so that's not an issue for me. So we can go... now?" He gestured to the door with the reins he now held in his hand. Ramza held up a hand as if to halt him.

"Should we ask the girls to come along? We haven't been directly ordered not to go, but then again, we are supposed to be beginning our guard duty in the morning, so not being here to do it will probably count as disobeying orders. It might be enough to have all six of us expelled, our future careers destroyed. I don't care about that for myself," he hastened to add, "but the four of them barely know Tietra..." Delita interrupted.

"I don't know! I can't think about all of this! I just want to go and try to get my sister back!"

"I know! Look, let's go and have a quick word with the girls, then we leave - whether or not they decide to come with us."

"It's a delay we don't need Ramza!" Yet even as he said that, Delita hung the reins back on the wall, with a deep sigh.

"For all we know, every last remnant of the Brigade is there, Delita – Dycedarg said nearly two dozen of the leaders are left. I worry that six of us isn't nearly enough for that, but I'm damned sure two won't be. Quick won't necessarily get her back, better-planned might! Please, Delita! Help me help Tietra! If we're going to get her back she needs both of us to focus!" As soon as he'd said that, Ramza could almost see Delita taking himself in hand, trying to make himself think about the practical aspects of the rescue.

"All right, all right! I'll go and find Alma and see if she can arrange for provisions for a couple of weeks, just in case it takes longer than expected. You go and talk to the girls..." His face took on a far-away look for a moment, then he seemed to come back to himself. "You're right, we have to ask them if they are prepared to do this, not order them. I know it's my sister we're talking about, but I'm too het up to do it right. I'll be better doing the practical stuff like the food, the chemists' supplies and sorting out clean clothes and bed rolls." As he spoke, Delita rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, as if he was tired - he probably was, neither of them had got much sleep the night before.

"If I stick to the practical stuff, I can probably manage to focus a little, at least." He continued, wearily.

"Delita, I know Tietra is your sister, but you know I love her, as much as you do, don't you? Come hell or high water, we will get her back!" Ramza said quietly but vehemently. He gripped his friend's shoulder for a moment, in a wordless gesture of comfort and support, then he turned to head back to the house. As he reached the stable door, Delita's voice stopped him.

"Ramza, wait. I know Dycedarg's your brother but, truthfully, what do you think about what Argath said about him not being willing to hold back the army for the sake of one common girl." Delita's voice was unnaturally empty of emotion.

Ramza turned back, his face full of doubt.

"Dycedarg said that Tietra was like a sister, that he wouldn't abandon her." His voice, like his face, was not confident.

"Ramza, please. Now is not the time to thoughtlessly toe the Beoulve family line. With everything you know of your brother, do you believe him?" Delita's voice was pleading, he so clearly wanted reassurance. Ramza tried his best to be both reassuring and honest.

"This is a military operation and Zalbaag is now the General, not Dycedarg. I honestly believe that what Dycedarg said he feels for Tietra, Zalbaag truly does. I'm confident that Zal will do everything humanly possible to secure her safety before the final assault – absolutely everything he would, had it been Alma that was taken, not Tietra. However, if we can come at the fortress from the rear and get her out first, then so much the better. It will make things much easier for Zal, too."

Delita hadn't missed the fact that Ramza had essentially sidestepped the question about Dycedarg, yet what he had said was true. Besides, how much control over military matters could a civilian like Dycedarg have? Especially a civilian who was currently bed-ridden. It was also completely true that Zalbaag made little distinction in the way he treated Alma and Tietra - he usually showed an equal amount of affection for both. Ramza surely had to be right in what he said about Zalbaag, Delita thought.

In the case of Tietra's kidnapping and the operation against the Corpse Brigade, thank the gods that it was Zalbaag in charge, not Dycedarg, Delita told himself. He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that said that whenever Zalbaag was nominally in charge of something, you always found Dycedarg pulling his strings behind the scenes. He shook his head. Surely that was an exaggeration? Zalbaag was more than just Dycedarg's puppet and military mouthpiece... wasn't he?

Though Delita had little regard for religion, he suddenly found himself praying - praying that he was wrong to be so doubting of the elder Beoulves. He prayed that Tietra was still alive and unhurt and that, even if Zalbaag and his whole army couldn't get her out safely, that he and Ramza could find a way to work a miracle.

He forced his mind away from his sister, trying only to think of the mundane aspects of preparing for this expedition.

Alma was, apparently, in Dycedarg's sick-room. Delita knocked briefly and went in. He frowned when he saw her sitting by Dycedarg's bed, working demurely on some embroidery. It appeared that Dycedarg was dozing. He beckoned to Alma and retreated to the outer chamber.

"Embroidery?" He said, in a low incredulous voice, as she followed him out. Even as upset and distracted as he was, this was so out of the ordinary that he had noticed and couldn't help but comment on it. She gave a heavy sigh.

"Dycedarg insisted, after my "little escapade" yesterday, that I stay within sight of his bed all day and do something ladylike." She said the last word as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"I'll try to remember to call you "my lady", then. Anyway..." He shook his head rapidly, as if to clear it. "We need your help. It's too complicated to go into the whys and wherefores but Ramza and I, and probably the girls, are going to try to rescue Tietra ourselves." He trailed off warily, thinking he understood that look in her eye. Sure enough she said, pretty much, exactly what he expected.

"Let me come too. I won't be any bother and I can make myself useful, I promise. I'm good at that Aegis spell that Elder Simon taught us at Orbonne – that could be incredibly helpful for fights."

"And how many times could you cast it, during a fight?" He asked, knowing, full well, that the answer was once.

She just scowled at him, not replying. He went on, implacably.

"Alma, we don't have time for an argument - I want to be gone within the hour. To do that, we'll need field rations for at least ten days for six people. I came to you because I was hoping you could sweet-talk Cook into getting someone to put them together for us. You know she chases me out of the kitchens every time she sees me."

"I know she used to - "Grubby little boys who dip their fingers into bowls should have them cut off!" - that was quite some time ago. You're really rather tall now, Delita, and not particularly grubby at the moment - I doubt she'd be saying that these days!" She could see his impatience. "All right, I'll go and ask her... Six, not seven? Argath isn't...?"

"No!" He cut her off, his voice rising. "Argath won't be sullying himself, helping us to rescue a girl of such common blood who ought to be licking his boots!" His tone made it clear he was quoting the other boy. "We're well rid of that despicable little worm, I can assure you!"

Alma sighed, shook her head and reached out to gently touched one of his fists, which he had unconsciously clenched.

"Hush, you'll wake Dycedarg, and once he's awake, you'll get no help; I'll have to go back and get on with my embroidery! And try to forget about Argath; he isn't worth a moment of you time, not under these circumstances. I'll go and speak to Cook... but, Delita, I was serious about wanting to come."

"I know you were, and you can't." Was his succinct reply. When she looked mulish, he elaborated.

"It's like what Ramza said, last night, about it being bad enough that one of you is in danger. I can't stand the thought of what might be happening to Tietra, if you were both in danger..." He shook his head. "Please Alma, just stay here, where you are relatively safe." She looked him full in the face for a moment as if trying to read him, then sighed again.

"All right." Was all she said before she briefly touched his hand again and turned away to head to the kitchens.

Alma slipped out of the room, Delita following a moment later. As he emerged, he heard her speaking, her voice cold.

"No, Argath, you can't go in - he's sleeping. He needs rest - medics' orders." She crossed her arms across her chest, defensively, and took a step back. Delita could easily see that Argath had been standing far too close for her comfort.

Argath nodded at Alma, and opened his mouth to speak, until he saw Delita. Coming up behind Alma, Delita laid his hands lightly on her shoulders. It was meant as nothing more than a supportive, protective gesture, but from the derisive, knowing expression on Argath's face, he took it as... something else. Ignoring Argath, other than to give him a short disdainful look, he briefly squeezed Alma's shoulders and told her that he and Ramza would see her again, before they left.

He made sure that she was walking away from Argath, towards the kitchens, before he headed in the opposite direction to check on their supplies of Potions and Phoenix Downs. That little scene had added a vague worry for Alma, who was going to be left behind with Argath still in the house, to Delita's already over-burdened mind.

Author's Note:

Given what Argath is shortly going to do, I'm kind of right there with Ramza on not being able to believe that I didn't let him give Argath the beating he so richly deserves. However, I decided that if Ramza's just seen (and felt) Delita - usually the more cool-headed one - lose it completely, he'd feel the need to make an extra effort to keep himself under control.

I originally intended each of these to be pretty short - when I began to post these, I conceived the idea of them being scenarios that could be read in five minutes during a coffee break, or similar - yet the word-count is gradually creeping up. I'm not sure if I'm happy about that, or not. If anyone reading this feels strongly, that shorter is better than longer, or vice versa, do let me know.