A Mercenary and A Nobleman

A/N: Well, this chapter wasn’t nearly as hard to write as I thought it would be, despite its length. Hence, you are blessed with a relatively quick update!

Satanic Mechanic ~ Yesh, poor Zelos. I shall stop with all the Zelos-angst, now.

Jenny ~ You're welcome x10! ^__^

ShootingStar99 ~ You don't see enough Yuartel, do ya? I'm not entirely sure yet how I'll write them in my Legendary Heroes fic (if I ever actually get round to starting it). They might be a little different to this - love's young dream and all that....

Disclaimer: I don’t own Tales of Symphonia.


A Mercenary and a Nobleman

Chapter 3

He awoke at first light. The dawn chorus outside his window sounded incredibly raucous. His clothed legs were tangled in a beige blanket he didn’t remember draping over himself the night before. And his bladder was full to bursting.

Once he had asserted his dominance over the blanket Zelos stood up, opened the curtain and looked around the room. He found what he was looking for under the bed. Typical for a so-called house with no electricity or running water, he grumbled to himself. Never again would he take for granted those simple luxuries. He ached to be home in his mansion, in his four-poster bed, with Sebastian at his beck and call….

After he had relieved himself into the chamber pot he turned to the mirror. To be frank, he looked hideous. His puffy, shadowed eyes stared dully back at him, the bruise on his face had changed little since the previous day and now his linen clothes were creased and rumpled. Okay, first things first. He looked down at the wooden surface and was surprised to find a hairbrush and a sealed jar. Obviously Martel had come in to check on him after he had fallen into his fitful slumber the previous night.

Picking up the jar he read the label. Arnica & chamomile, to reduce bruising and swelling, was written in elegant flowing script. Unscrewing the lid he sniffed at the translucent, greasy-looking contents. Lavender. Not his fragrance of choice, but if it would help him to look pretty again, he’d give it a shot. Setting down the jar he picked up the hairbrush and gently started to detangle the ends of his hair.

Once he was satisfied with his gleaming mane he ruffled up the ends with his fingers to separate the natural wave at the ends into curly tresses. Hmm, it’ll do for now, he thought, flicking his head from side to side and allowing the curls to spill over his shoulders.

Next he dipped two fingers into the ointment and carefully rubbed it into the bruise on his face. Eww, it was greasy and didn’t soak into his skin straight away. Maybe that had something to do with how it worked so well. He tucked his hair behind his ears so it didn’t get stuck to his cheek.

Now, to find out whether Kratos and Yuan had salvaged any more of his clothes. They didn’t bring anything in with them when they returned yesterday, yet Yuan had hung the deer somewhere. Perhaps they had an outhouse. Still no sign of his boots.

Zelos made his way out to the living room and, spying a bulky bundle of blankets on the longest sofa, quietly stole to the front door. Lifting the latch and finding that the door was not deadlocked, he left the house silently.

It was a glorious morning outside. The rowdy birds had moved on, thank goodness. He noticed he was standing on stone. A path of large, unevenly shaped flagstones led to his left and right, and also to a small stone building in front of him. Walking around it he realised there were no windows, just the door which faced the house. Adjacent to the stone building was a small stable, currently unoccupied. The house itself was surrounded by a bed of seemingly wild flowers. There were many yellow and lilac blooms as well as blossomless green foliage. Their collective scent was…interesting. He assumed these were the herbs Martel used in her concoctions.

At the rear of the house, past the kitchen window, he saw a mesh fence about his height, with a gate. As he neared the enclosure he became aware of a low clucking and the sound of someone humming.

Standing at the gate he saw that the enclosure stretched the full width of the house and then some, to the fence he had seen from his bedroom window the previous day. The back fence was about fifteen yards away, several yards from the line of trees surrounding the clearing. In the centre of the enclosure stood a small wooden hut, with a mesh window, a door from the floor to the roof and, under the window, an opening with a raised panel above it, like some sort of portcullis. As he studied this strange little door, a beaked head emerged and bobbed back and forth as the owner’s feathery brown body waddled down the little wooden ramp.

Zelos smiled as the hen cawed and fluttered her clipped wings then wandered off after settling her ruffled feathers.

The melodious tune had continued all the while and he wasn’t surprised when Martel emerged from behind the wooden hut clutching a basket of eggs and followed by two bleating goats. She, however, was surprised to see Zelos and the humming ceased abruptly with a startled gasp as she raised her free hand to her chest.

“Do you make a habit of creeping up on women, Zelos?” she asked with a slight frown.

“Sorry,” he grinned. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was captivated by your beautiful singing voice.”

“Well, that’s as may be,” she said as she approached the gate and undid the latch, “But you need to learn that flattery won’t get you everywhere in life, Mr Wilder.” Securing the gate behind her she headed up the path, round to the front of the house.

It’s done me well so far. Zelos thought better than to voice this opinion. Man, for someone up this early, she seems less of a morning person than I am! (And that one.)

Following Martel to the other end of the clearing he came across a long trellis table, upon which she set her basket, and an outdoor range. In the far corner, before the trees, he spotted the charming water well. The smell of baking bread wafted to his nose from the range and his tummy gave an involuntary growl.

Martel turned to him and smiled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be snappy. It’s just that I’m not used to seeing people out here. We like our privacy, you see.”

“That’s okay,” said Zelos, holding up his hands. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Anyway, how are you feeling today?” She sat down at one of the benches and started removing vegetables from a second basket on the table.

“Okay, I guess.” He hadn’t slept very well, but after a good cry he had decided that from what Kratos and Yuan had said, he was probably very lucky to be alive. And, after all, life goes on, is for the living, and other such clichés. “Actually, I was thinking I’d grab my stuff that Yuan brought back and hightail it out of here.”

Martel paused while slicing a large onion. “Well, uh, you’ll have to talk to the others about getting home from here, but you’re more than welcome to stay a little longer, at any rate.”

“That’s really kind, but I’d like to be getting home soon.”

“I can understand that,” Martel sympathised, resuming her chopping. “Yuan said your things are in a pack just inside the door of the coolhouse. That’s the building opposite the front door. It’s unlocked.”

“Okay, thanks.” He made his way back to the small stone building and flicked the latch on the door. The open doorway cast enough light into the small room for him to see various tools neatly hanging on the rear wall and a tabletop bearing baskets and plates covered with tea towels. He realised that the inside of this building was indeed much cooler than outside. He also noticed a strange odour that he couldn’t quite place. Looking up he found himself staring at what must be tonight’s dinner, hanging from one of the rafters. Suppressing the urge to heave he picked up the suspiciously small sack at his feet and closed the door behind him.

He plonked himself down on the other bench, opposite Martel, and opened the satchel on his lap. Let’s see, he thought, pulling out the items one at a time and placing them on the bench beside him. One handheld mirror; a good start. One hairbrush…full of leaves. One wash bag, containing a toothbrush (hurrah) a white sweatband and a small vial of cologne. He was somewhat surprised that hadn’t been taken. On second thoughts, no, he wasn’t.

At that point he heard laughing from round the corner and Kratos and Yuan appeared, smiling. Both were wearing dark clothes again, although Yuan was wearing a shirt while Kratos was wearing a slim vest top, revealing his muscular shoulders and arms.

“Good morning,” Yuan beamed at Zelos and Martel. Kratos said nothing and his smile faltered when he looked at Zelos. Charming.

Zelos mumbled a reply and resumed looking through the satchel as Yuan sat next to him and Kratos sat opposite Yuan. Martel stood and moved to the range with an oven mit. Seconds later she returned to the table carrying a loaf of freshly baked bloomer bread that both looked and smelled delicious.

“Omelettes for breakfast,” she announced, as she smacked Kratos’s hand away from the loaf. “Wait for it to cool down,” she admonished him. She took her chopping board to the range and a moment later Zelos heard the sizzle of meat and vegetables being fried.

He heard someone gasp and looked up to see Kratos sucking on his middle finger with a frown. Serves him right, Zelos thought, uncharitably. Still, for some reason he didn’t look away immediately as the fingertip disappeared briefly between moistened lips. Kratos paused as he noticed Zelos watching him, then released his finger with a loud smack of his lips.

Look away, dammit. Why is he still staring at me? Zelos cleared his throat and looked back down at the satchel. He pulled out his favourite pair of loose white trousers and smiled. A bit grubby, but better than nothing. One black vest top. One sleeveless pink overcoat. The top toggle was missing. The satchel was now empty.

“Was this really all you found?”

“In truth, no,” Yuan replied. “Some of your more, uh, colourful clothing was ripped pretty much to pieces. We left them in the carriage.”

“Okay…. Oh, was I wearing any boots when you found me?”

“No,” answered Kratos.

“Man, they stole all my shoes?”

“Were they leather?” Yuan enquired.

“Of course.”

“They’d fetch a reasonable price at any market.”

“You can always buy some more though, can’t you, Zelos? Although I’m sure you must have plenty more pairs at home.”

He’d only just woken up and already Zelos was losing his patience with Kratos. Fighting back the urge to throw a ripe tomato at him, he calmly pointed out, “But that doesn’t solve the problem of having no boots to get home in.”

“I’ve got an old pair you can have,” offered Yuan. “They’re a little worn, but they’ll do for a light journey. You look about my size.”

Zelos wiggled his dainty toes, which peeked out from under his trouser bottoms. “Uh, thank you,” he said, trying not to sound ungrateful. Never in his life had he worn hand-me-downs, not that he had much choice now, though.

“No problem.” Yuan looked up as Martel returned to the table and started cracking eggs into a mixing bowl. “So, were you on your way back to Meltokio the other day?”

“Yes. I was staying at my sister’s estate during the cold months.” Martel moved back to the range, beating the egg mixture.

“Where’s that, then?”

“A couple of miles east of Sottofooji.”

“Ah, well that’s not too far from here, by horseback. I could drop you off there this afternoon, if you like.”

“Ah, that’s really kind, but I don’t think I can go back there.”

“Why ever not?” Yuan looked confused.

“Um, it’s complicated.” Yuan was looking at him expectantly. “We don’t actually get on that well, you see.” Yeah, and the fact that I was stupid enough to get myself beaten up and her maid kidnapped and probably killed might not actually bring us any closer together. “I just don’t think she’ll be that sympathetic.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand. She is family, after all.”

“No, I really don’t want to go back there.” Zelos realised he was starting to sound slightly hysterical.

“Okay, okay, we won’t make you go.” Yuan shot a look at Kratos, who rolled his eyes heavenwards. “But that doesn’t leave you with a whole lot of choices. You have no money on you, so you can’t afford a room in Sottofooji. And I’m afraid I’m not charitable enough to ride you all the way back to Meltokio. It wouldn’t be comfortable for you, anyway, with your bruising. But there is one other alternative….”

“What’s that?”

“Kratos is leaving for Meltokio tomorrow morning. You could go with him.”

You have got to be kidding me. Zelos looked at Kratos who was glaring daggers at Yuan.

“Oh come on,” chuckled Yuan. “It’s what you do for a living, Kratos, escorting people through the wilderness. You’ll love it.”

“I somehow doubt that Zelos will love it,” Kratos said, dryly.

“I’m not scared of a little walk,” argued Zelos. Or an asshole like you, he added silently.

“It’s more like a fifty mile walk. It’ll take two days. At my pace. It’ll require keeping out of the way of large animals and brigands, both of whom will more than likely want to kill you. It’ll involve sleeping on the bare earth, although you do have some experience of that. It’ll involve killing your own food. No showers, no servants and, most importantly, no girls.” Kratos folded his arms and looked at Zelos condescendingly from under his fringe of auburn hair.

You patronising bastard, thought Zelos. I may not have been raised in the fighting slums of Meltokio but I know how to look after myself, when I’m not caught completely unawares. How dare he speak to me in this manner? He’d never get away with it in Meltokio. Hell, I wouldn’t even give him the time of day in Meltokio.

“Bring it on.” He met Kratos’s eyes with a steely look of his own.

“Since I’ll probably have to look out for your safety, it’ll cost you fifty thousand gald.” Yuan appeared to have choked on his own tongue and was coughing profusely.

“Done.”

“Bargain,” gasped Yuan, between coughs.

“Okay, here’s yours, Zelos.” Martel placed a plated omelette in front of him. “Cutlery’s in the basket. Are you quite all right, dear?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Yuan wheezed.

“Kratos, could you fill this pitcher from the well, please?”

“Sure,” he replied, sauntering off with the jug. Martel returned to cooking omelettes.

“He just raped your bank account, Zelos,” Yuan whispered, his breathing almost having returned to normal.

Zelos shrugged. It would be worth it to wipe that smirk off Kratos’s arrogant face. He watched as Kratos pulled up the bucket rope with his rippling arms, rather than using the handle. Show-off.

“That’s more than he’d earn in a year, though. Perhaps he’ll come back and stay with us for longer,” Yuan considered, thoughtfully.

Kratos returned to the table and filled the four glasses with water. Martel returned shortly afterwards with a second omelette which she placed in front of Kratos.

“No, you eat this one. I’ll finish off mine and Yuan’s.”

“Oh, okay, Kratos. If you’re sure,” Martel smiled.

“Of course.” Creep.

Martel sat down and Kratos walked over to the range.

“Please start without us, Zelos. You shouldn’t let it get cold,” suggested Yuan, as he picked up a knife and started to slice the bread.

Zelos grabbed a fork and eagerly stabbed at the fluffy omelette. The first mouthful literally melted on his tongue, leaving him with tasty meat and onions to chew.

“Oh my god, this is amazing,” he cried, after swallowing. “Is this pork?” he asked, eagerly scooping another forkful.

“Wild boar. Glad you like it.”

Zelos didn’t talk for several more minutes as he hungrily wolfed down the remainder of the omelette. As Kratos returned to the table with two plates of omelette Zelos took a slice of bread and buttered it before devouring it in just two mouthfuls.

“Hungry?” Martel asked.

“Ravenous.” Zelos suppressed a belch.

“So you’re staying another night?”

“I hope that’s okay.”

“No problem at all. But I’m going to make you earn your keep, today,” she said, cryptically.

“Okay….”

“You can help me milk the goats after breakfast.”

“And, after lunch, sword practice,” Kratos announced. “I want to make sure you have at least some idea of how to defend yourself.”

Hah, thought Zelos. Bite me. Although…. “Uh, I guess my sword was stolen.”

“Of course it was.” Kratos’s look told Zelos he didn’t believe him. “Don’t worry, I’ll lend you one of mine for the journey.”

“How many do you have?” Zelos asked.

“One broadsword, one short sword and three daggers.”

“Do you usually wear them all?” Zelos actually was interested. That was a lot of metal to carry.

“I usually carry only one sword, but I always have three knives on me, at least two are concealed.”

“Not at my dinner table, I hope.”

“No, Martel. Never at your dinner table. There are, however, some taverns I wouldn’t set foot inside with some protection.”

All four of them looked up as they heard a bark behind them. Turning round, Zelos could see Noishe at the living room window, his paws on the sill and his tail wagging. “I was wondering where he was.”

“He’s only just woken up, the lazy tyke,” commented Yuan.

Kratos tutted. “Even Zelos was up before him today.”

Luckily for Kratos, Martel had already moved the basket of tomatoes out of Zelos’s reach.

* * *

Zelos had an interesting day. He took to milking livestock like a duck might to making sandwiches. The damn goat obviously had other ideas. Martel’s advice of trying to woo said goat did not amuse him.

“Treat her with some respect, Zelos,” Martel had chided. “You wouldn’t just start groping up some woman you met, would you?”

Well, that would depend on how many drinks he’d had.

After finally convincing the goat, whose name, apparently, was Shihna, that he had a good reason for molesting her, he finally got the job done. Although he ended up with rather damp feet.

“You know, I could really do with a bath at some point today, if it’s at all possible.”

“Sure. You’ll have to heat some water from the well. But you should wait until after your sparring session with Kratos. I have a feeling he’s going to work you pretty hard.”

Oh, joy.

His spirits were lifted when Yuan and Martel’s snow white mare returned from her morning wander through the nearby forest.

“Well, you’re a beauty, aren’t you?” he cooed, as he ran his hand down the pale neck.

“Her name’s Gully,” said Yuan. “Short for Gulltop.”

Zelos blinked and decided not to ask. Well, at least this hunny isn’t getting all pissy with me, he thought, completely smitten. He offered to brush her down before lunch.

Lunch itself was a quiet affair, also eaten outside in the warm sunshine. Zelos feasted once again on cold meats, salad and bread, musing that he’d probably never eat this healthily again.

After they had finished eating Zelos filled a huge copper pan with water from the well and placed it on the range to boil. Yuan brought out his old boots for Zelos to try on. The slightly scuffed, well-worn, pale walking boots were quite a good fit, and looked fairly passable with Zelos’s current, crumpled, attire.

Kratos walked into view carrying two swords with belts attached to their sheaths. He unsheathed the shorter one and tossed it to Zelos, who caught it by the hilt. “You can sharpen it after we’re done.”

Zelos studied the immaculate blade of the sword before loosening his grip and flipping the hilt around, testing for the most comfortable hold. He made a few practice slices and thrusts through the air. The weapon was about the same length and weight as his own, which had gilding along the hilt (yes, it was more ornamental than practical) and an opal stud at its base. He made a mental note to get the armoury in Meltokio to make him another one to the same spec.

Zelos watched as Kratos stood and held his sword up, with the hilt in front of his face, his eyes closed. Wow, the blade was a about a yard long and the hilt was very thick. It looked…heavy. Yet Kratos made it look like he was handling an oversized butter knife, as he swung it through the air in a fluid circular motion. Zelos swallowed.

“Let’s see what you’ve got. Attack,” Kratos commanded quietly as he beckoned Zelos forth with his left hand.

Zelos took up his attack stance.

“Wait.” Kratos held up his hand and fought back a smile. Yuan wasn’t so successful. “What is that?”

“What?” Zelos stood still and lowered his sword arm.

“This.” Kratos rested the point of his sword in the earth and hopped from one leg to the other, then back again, in an impression of a somewhat clumsy ballerina.

Yuan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He howled with laughter and wandered round the side of the house so as not to bait the armed redhead. Zelos heard a hacking cough as the aqua-haired man disappeared from view.

“Look,” Zelos began, placing his left hand on his hip, “Are we going to do this or are you just going to make fun of me all day?”

“I apologise.” Kratos lifted his sword again. “Begin.”

Zelos bounced on his feet before charging rapidly at Kratos, thrusting his sword arm forward with the tip of the blade aimed at the centre of Kratos’s torso.

With one simple motion, Kratos brought his sword round in a descending arc and deflected Zelos’s sword, sending him sprawling into the dirt.

“Ugh. Man, that thing’s really heavy,” Zelos complained as he lifted himself up and dusted off his knees, before picking up his weapon.

“Didn’t like that?” Kratos raised his eyebrows. “Try again,” he said calmly.

Zelos limbered up where he stood then charged Kratos again. As he moved he could see Kratos’s bored expression flicker with surprise as he jumped up at the last moment to bring his sword round in a downwards arc above Kratos’s head. Still, the long, broad blade was there before his and a clash of metal resounded as his feet touched the ground once more.

“Damn, you’re fast.”

“My turn,” was all Kratos said.

Zelos took up his defensive stance, which was remarkably similar to his attack stance, and, taking a chance, focussed on Kratos’s right elbow.

As Kratos moved towards him he bounced on his toes and watched the rolling of the joint. Zelos jumped back nimbly and raised his own sword to block the downwards thrust of the heavy blade. However, Kratos quickly parried, bringing the blade back towards his body, intent on completing the figure of eight. As quick as a flash, Zelos launched himself forward, to Kratos’s left side, under the blade he was about to swing down. Bringing up his knees behind him, Zelos swung his arm round to smack Kratos on the bum with the flat of his blade, before his shoulder hit the ground and he rolled neatly into an upright position, with the tip of his sword pressed lightly between Kratos’s shoulder blades.

“Not even a contest,” he boasted.

“Humph, don’t get cocky,” Kratos spat.

Suddenly, there was a body behind Zelos and a hand around his throat. Out of sheer panic Zelos stamped his right heel down behind him and thrust his right elbow backwards.

The figure withdrew and Zelos turned round to find Yuan rolling round on the floor with one arm clutching his ribs and a hand massaging his right toe through his boot.

Martel came running across the garden and threw herself down on the ground beside her husband. “What did you do to him?” she cried, looking up at Zelos with fury in her normally warm green eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry, but he shouldn’t have snuck up on me like that.”

“No, it’s all right,” Yuan spluttered, allowing Martel to help him into a sitting position. “It’s my own fault. It was a stupid prank.”

“At the very least, it should teach you to keep an eye on your surroundings, Zelos,” Kratos’s deep voice stated. “Always keep your guard up.”

“Well, excuse me, but I thought I was only fighting you,” Zelos countered, pointing his blade threateningly at Kratos.

“Never underestimate your enemy. At least you show them no mercy,” Kratos commented with a slight smirk.

The look he received from Martel made his mouth droop and he looked down at his feet.

Now who’s laughing, huh, Kratos? Zelos smiled deep inside.

* * *

Zelos sat on the grass with the short blade across his lap and caught the smooth round stone that Kratos tossed to him. “So, did I pass your test?”

Kratos sat a few feet in front of him and, placing the blade of his broadsword against his left knee, started to run his own stone along the blade. “Well, you have a certain…style, I’ll grant you that. I’m not sure I could name it, mind.”

“I’ll take that as a yes then, shall I?”

“You got lucky guessing my move before I finished it.”

“Not really.”

“Oh? So how did you evade it?”

“That would be telling,” Zelos said with a smile. Watching Kratos’s hand closely, he ran the stone down the length of his shorter blade, attempting to mimic his movements.

Kratos looked up at Zelos. “You do know how to sharpen a blade, don’t you?”

Zelos stopped what he was doing and held Kratos’s gaze, unsure of whether to admit to his ignorance.

Kratos sighed and stood up. “Let me show you how to take care of my sword,” he said, not unkindly. He moved behind Zelos and knelt down. Zelos tried not to bristle at his nearness.

Kratos placed his hands over Zelos’s and brought their right hands to the blade. “Firm, even strokes,” he said, guiding Zelos’s hand and the stone down one edge of the steel. “The same number on each of the four slopes, okay?”

“I get it.”

Kratos remained behind Zelos, watching over his shoulder, just slightly longer than Zelos thought was necessary. Zelos continued his work without looking up as Kratos sat back down in front of him. He had just finished when Yuan joined them, carrying what looked like a pointy, double-ended boat paddle. It was taller than the man himself, and the blades on either end already looked razor-sharp.

“What the hell do you do with that?”

“It’s a multipurpose tool, but mostly I chop heads off with it,” Yuan explained, twirling it like a baton. He sat down and began to polish the ornamental decorations in the centre of each blade.

I bet it’s just for show, Zelos thought. Still, he looked down at his own short blade before looking back at the seven foot slicing and dicing machine. Deciding to skip the rest of this macho exercise he sheathed the sword and tossed it at Kratos’s feet, for inspection.

“I’m going to take a bath before dinner.” He picked up the pan of hot water from the range and made his way inside.

Kratos examined the blade for a few moments, then sighed heavily and set about undoing the damage Zelos had inflicted on his poor weapon.

* * *

Zelos entered the bathroom, which was opposite his bedroom. He emptied the hot water into the tub, to warm the cool water he’d poured in earlier. Quickly, he stripped out of his creased and dusty garments, tossing them on the floor. He poured a little of the herbal bath oil Martel had offered him into the water and swirled it around with his hand. The water wasn’t all that warm, really, but it would do.

Climbing inside the tub, he rested his head against the rim and closed his eyes. He imagined he was in his huge tub at home, two or three of his hunnies sharing the hot, bubbly water with him. Blissful.

He could feel the scented oil starting to work, relaxing his aching muscles. Kratos hadn’t worked him as hard as Zelos had feared he might, but his arms were definitely sore from the goat milking and sword care, not to mention the jar his right arm had received when blocking Kratos’s huge sword.

That Kratos is an odd character, he thought. So very joyless. He seems to have only three emotions: bored, bemused and irked. Zelos wondered briefly how two people as friendly as Yuan and Martel could come to know, much less befriend, a man like that. Actually, he also wondered why two such charming people should choose to live out here away from the rest of society.

He’d been starting to have second thoughts about his upcoming two day journey with Kratos during the swordplay. Being the butt of Kratos and Yuan’s jokes was getting a little tiresome. But what was with Kratos being so nice about the sword-sharpening? He’d half expected the man to snatch the weapon back and do the job himself. And he certainly hadn’t expected the man to half hug him in order to show him what to do. It had made him feel rather uncomfortable.

Actually, that wasn’t quite true. What made him feel uncomfortable was that Kratos’s hands on his had felt comfortable. They had been warm and dry, while Zelos’s had grown clammy. Kratos’s grip was firm but gentle, his demeanour commanding but kind. And his mouth had been altogether too close to Zelos’s face as his warm breath had whispered across skin.

Zelos shivered in the tub. Just…don’t give him another reason to touch you, he told himself. Picking up a bar of soap he scrubbed at his skin, taking care with his back and abdomen. After rinsing himself he stood up and wrapped a large fluffy towel around his waist, before stepping out of the tub. He reached back in to pull out the plug, grateful that he didn’t have to empty the bath manually.

Grabbing the clothes he had earlier discarded, he left the bathroom and crossed the tiny hall to his bedroom, where he dressed in his slightly less creased white trousers and black vest. He liberally applied some more of Martel’s magic ointment to his face. He wasn’t sure it had made a difference over the course of the day, but he looked forward to seeing an improvement in the morning. He decided to wait until bedtime before putting any ointment on his back and limbs; he didn’t want to get his clothes greasy.

Dinner was a rich stew of deer, with a variety of steamed vegetables and the delicious bloomer bread to mop up any remaining sauce. Conversation was little more than light-hearted banter as Yuan continued to refill each of their glasses with homemade elderflower wine. Zelos felt stuffed after he finished his second helping of stew, but found he couldn’t possibly turn down Martel’s rhubarb crumble with hot custard.

After dessert they joined Noishe in the living room. Martel and Yuan snuggled on the long sofa, while Kratos and Zelos sat in armchairs, Noishe allowing Kratos to use his back as a footstool.

After the third bottle of wine was finished the already languid atmosphere ground to a complete halt. Zelos was dozing in his chair when Kratos tapped him on the arm and suggested that he get an early night; he wanted to see him up and ready leave at dawn.

Zelos didn’t need telling twice as he dragged himself into the bedroom, not bothering to light a lantern first. He peeled off his clothes in the dark and fell back onto the bed, falling asleep before he hit the mattress.

* * *

Zelos wasn’t a light sleeper. Something woke him up just before dawn, but he couldn’t work out what it was. His head throbbed with the effort of looking out of the window at the light turquoise sky. What did they put in that wine?

He felt a dull ache as he realised he had slept on his back. He must have passed out cold, as he normally slept on his side. Then he remembered that he’d gone to bed without putting any ointment on his bodily bruises. If he wanted to be ready for his hunnies by the time he got back to Meltokio he’d better be more vigilant about that. It wasn’t like him to let his standards of personal hygiene slip. The idea of taking only one bath in four days made him shudder.

He sat up and reached over to the chest of drawers for the tub of ointment. Dipping his fingers into the pot he wiped the cool ointment onto the backs of his arms before rubbing it in. He repeated this for his legs. His back was another matter entirely. It wasn’t light enough yet for him to see the bruising in the mirror, and even when it was he probably wouldn’t be able to apply it very easily. He gave up and lay back down on his side. He guessed he’d have to ask nicely for Martel’s help once she got up.

He didn’t mean to close his eyes again. He really didn’t. But they flew open moments later when he heard a low moan from the other side of the wall. What was that?

The sound was repeated, slightly longer and louder this time. Goodness, was he overhearing Yuan and Martel doing the wild thing? Lucky them, he grinned.

His mind brought forth the image of Martel, her long pale hair gleaming, looking voluptuous and lovely in that figure-hugging dress of hers. Zelos would bet his entire fortune that she looked even better without clothes on. He heard another moan and briefly wondered what Yuan was doing to her.

Now, that was a bad idea. Zelos moaned lightly as he felt his loins stir into action. He remembered hearing Martel humming outside this morning; the noises emanating from next door were a lustier rendition, less tuneful, but no less pleasing to the ear.

“Oh….”

Dear God. Zelos squirmed uncomfortably as his own arousal grew. It had been some time since he had last needed to pleasure himself. But, dammit, if he was going to have to listen to them having sex, why shouldn’t he enjoy it?

His right hand fumbled over the surface of the nightstand until he found the pot of ointment. He brought his hand back down and ran oily fingers down his hard length. As his fingers squeezed gently around him he moaned softly into the pillow.

“Ohhhhh….”

Ohhhhh yes, Martel. Zelos’s long fingers slid up and down as he pictured her beautiful face and imagined her soft pink lips were wrapped around his cock.

“Unh….”

Zelos squeezed harder and moved his hand faster. He could see her in his mind, her hands moving up and down her neck, bunching up in her own hair as she moved up and down above him.

“Oh!”

Her volume made it seem like she was in the room with him. He felt warmth spread up his chest and neck and envisioned her kissing him, licking him.

“Oh!”

Oh yeah, baby. Ride me. You’re so beautiful….

“Yes!”

Oh, absolutely! Faster….

“Oh God….”

More…please…. Zelos felt himself start to spasm from the rapid friction.

“Yes, God, oh yes!”

“Unhhhhh…” Zelos moaned into the pillow as he was pushed over the edge by his vision and Martel’s hungry cries.

“AaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAHHHHHH!”

Fuuuuuuuck. Zelos panted as he came down from his high.

“Oh, Kratos…!”

Huh? What the…?