-1A/N: First, a huge thanks to SerialRavist for beta-reading this for me. Second, I don't own Final Fantasy Tactics, Square-Enix does.

Chapter 1- More than a Friend?

Delita curled in the fetal position on the cold stone floor. His teeth chattered. He felt alone. He had always been able to count on Teta's presence when he slept. Ever since she had outgrown the cradle the two of them shared a bed in their parents little one-room cottage. But she wasn't here now.

Perhaps it's for the best, he thought. Delita held it inside so long; he needed to be strong for her since the death of their parents less then a week ago. He never let on once he himself was fighting to hold back his tears. Now she was sleeping in the room of the youngest Beoulve sibling. Alma was her name, he recalled.

Earlier today, his poor sister had been petrified when Balbanes introduced the both of them to his three sons and daughter and explained they would be living with them. Alma had walked right up to Teta and introduced herself, and then proceeded to drag Teta to her room to play with her dolls. He'd checked up on her a little before dinner and watched from afar as the two girls happily played with one another. He hadn't intruded; after days of having nothing to do but to relive the death of their parents, it was good she'd found an escape, if only temporary.

Now she was tucked comfortably next to her new best friend. He was finally alone. He would finally allow himself to cry, but he couldn't. He reached down and all there was was a dull ache in his heart, but nothing more. No tears welled up, no sniffing, just an ache. Delita was proud of himself, after all, eight year olds don't cry.

"Wha' cha doin'?" A blond's head poked over the edge of the bed above him.

Delita wiped his sleeves across his face and put on his best grown-up voice. "Nothin'." His voice broke slightly, but hopefully not enough for the boy above him to notice.

"Why are you on the floor?" the boy asked inquisitively. "There's enough room in the bed for both of us."

That's true enough, Delita thought to himself. The bed was huge! When they had crawled into it earlier, to go to sleep, there had been enough room to spread out and barely tell there was another person on the other side of the bed. Delita shook his head. "I can't fall asleep," he finally answered the boy; his teeth chattering a little.

"Why?"

"The bed was too soft."

The boy laughed. "That's silly! Bed are suppose to be soft."

Silence settled in the darkened room. Delita hoped the boy was finally going to leave him alone and go back to sleep. The boy was nothing more then an irritating shadow since he had entered the Beoulve manor.

After watching his sister being towed away by Alma, the blond had insisted on dragging him through the large estate giving the "grand tour" of the place, something Delita said he wasn't interested in. The tour just happened to end at boy's room, where he had invited him to come and play. He had shaken his head to the invitation.

"So do you want to play tag?"

"No."

"Hide-and-Seek?"

"Not really."

"Constables and Thieves?"

"Nope."

Once he ran out of ideas he contented himself to walk by Delita's side as he went about strolling though the lands surrounding the Beoulve's manor. Sometime in silence, other time filled with the blond boy's monologue as Delita wasn't saying more then two words to any question.

"Aren't you cold?" The boy spoke into the darkness.

Delita let out an irritated sigh. He just won't leave me alone! "No." He lied… well, sort of.

"Then why are your teeth chattering." The blond persisted on the point.

In truth, he was cold, but he was used to it. He and his sister had to share a ratted-out old blanket. It was a thin piece of fabric his sister had a horrible habit of hogging. He would wake up many a night without a shred of the blanket on him. He would roll over to see his sister wrapped up in the blanket and he couldn't bring himself to wake her. So he would just snuggle up next to Teta's wrapped body for warmth.

"I don't mind the cold," he finally told the boy who was still looking down at him from the perch on the bed.

"But you don't have to be cold."

"I'm happy on the ground," he said firmly.

"Oh…okay." The boy replied timidly, his head disappearing from above him.

Delita sighed and rolled onto his side, finally ridding himself of the annoyance, or at least till sunrise, when it would start again.

He heard the noise of flesh against the stone floor and looked over his shoulder to see two feet standing not to far from his head. His eyes slid up to the body until he saw the boy standing above him. "What are you doing?" Deltia asked, half annoyed, the other half truly wondering what this blond was thinking.

"If you're going to sleep on the floor so am I."

"You don't have to do that."

But the boy either didn't hear or didn't care. He pulled a blanket off the bed. Delita grasped the blanket and cradled it close to his body, feeling the warmth that still remained from the other's body. The blanket shifted as the other youth climbed underneath the cover, his back to Delita's back, but even then he could feel the warmth radiating from the boy's body. Soon the whole blanket was comfortably warm.

A smile pull at Delita's lips. "Thank you, Ramza," he finally said. The only response was the silent snoring coming from the other boy.

xxx

The crackling of the torch was the only sound as Delita walked on the soft grass; he had left his personal guards at the gate. Delita knelt after finding the spot he was looking for, next to broken ground. He bowed his head until he looked up at the gravestone, barely illuminated by the flickering torch light.

"Hello Alma…" he paused and gulped, "Ramza…"

A dull ache throb again in his heart. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen to you. I really thought we'd meet again some day when we last spoke at Zeltennia. I truly did…

"But damn it," Delita clenched his fist and pounded it into the ground. "I told you not to get involved. I told you to go home and leave it alone. Everything would have worked out just fine if you'd only would have listened to me. Why didn't you listen? Why did you have to be so damn foolish, so stubborn?"

His anger falter. "I guess you're just like me." He let out a half hearted laugh. "I never listened to you either, did I? We were just alike, even if we were never blood brothers…

"I married Ovelia." He changed the subject after a few seconds of silence. "I truly do love her, like I told you at Zeltennia. I would have given my life to give her the kingdom I promised. Now Ivalice is reunited and peace reigns and I would give my life again to keep peace in her… in our kingdom. It's the least I could do for the peasants. I can't make the crops grow or stop disease, but I can promise them peace and that nobles will never take advantage of them again.

"Isn't that we both fought for Ramza? Peace and equality? We were fighting together. I wasn't using you; Balmafula doesn't know anything." Anger again creeping into his voice, but he cleared it with a couple deep breaths and shake of his head.

He stood. "…There is so much more I wish to say; there's been so much unsaid between the two of us since Fort Zeakden. We use to share a lot of things, but I must leave for now. Ovelia's birthday is coming up. It would not do if I missed that day. I will come again."

Delita started to walk away but then paused. "You were always so strong; hell, we took on the entire world when we were but young men. I find it hard to believe you're really dead." He looked over his shoulder and gazed into the woods, almost expecting Ramza to be there. But he saw nothing but a darkened forest.

"Goodbye, brother," Delita barely whispered. He turned and walked away. For a moment he thought he was going to have to fight back the tears, but he didn't; after all, kings don't cry.