A Mercenary and A Nobleman

A/N: Thank you to all my luffly reviewers. I’m glad you’re enjoying the ride. I was amused by the speculation caused by the ending of the last chapter. ^_^ Only one person sort of guessed what was going on. I apologise if the dialogue was confusing at the end. Basically, Zelos’s thoughts were not emphasised, and everything in quotation marks was screamed by Martel. Which means…*le gasp*…hehe.

Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Symphonia.


A Mercenary and A Nobleman

Chapter 4

Coming down from his orgasmic high Zelos was convinced he’d misheard Martel’s last cry. The cry which immediately followed hers was definitely male, but he couldn’t be sure from whose throat it had erupted. Martel and Kratos? Nah.

Once his own breathing had returned to normal and silence had enveloped the small house once more Zelos stood and began to dress. Dawn had broken and he remembered that Kratos intended to leave soon.

He smiled slightly as he considered that they both seemed to share a love of early morning sex. Then he chided himself mentally. He should know better than to tar other people with the same perverted brush he painted himself with whenever possible. Martel was a pure, honest, caring maiden, undoubtedly faithful to her husband. He had no right to think any less of her.

Standing in front of the mirror he examined the bruise on his face. Had it gone down? He wasn’t sure. It did seem a little paler in the centre and the unpleasant green corona no longer reached all the way to his lip and eye. Sighing, he carefully applied some more of the greasy lotion.

Making his way out to the kitchen he was startled to find Yuan reading by lamplight in the living room.

“Uh, how long have you been out here?” Zelos asked him carefully, casting a furtive glance towards the second bedroom door.

“A while,” answered Yuan, not looking up from his book.

“So, uh…uh….” Zelos couldn’t form a question that wouldn’t sound utterly tactless, so he gave up and sat down opposite Yuan.

Yuan sighed and looked up. “What is it you wish to ask me, Zelos?” His expression seemed…bored.

“Well, I…heard something,” Zelos said.

Yuan raised his eyebrows. “We both know what you heard, Zelos.”

“And you don’t mind?”

Yuan sighed again and returned his gaze to his book. The faintest of smiles tugged at his lips. “She’s missed him a great deal,” was all he said.

Zelos chuckled softly in bewilderment, raising his hands at Yuan’s sharp look. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I usually go out of my way to make sure men don’t find out I’ve been sleeping with their wives!”

Zelos’s smile faltered at Yuan’s continued deadpan stare. “What my wife chooses to do is no concern of yours.” Yuan spoke quietly, not with a threatening tone, but still Zelos felt like he was being warned. “I believe on this occasion she didn’t particularly care if you overheard since you won’t be returning here. It’s not desirable for you to be here at all, but sometimes Kratos and Martel are too compassionate for their own good.”

Yes, despite Yuan’s conversational tone, the atmosphere was somewhat chillier now. Zelos was decidedly grateful that it wasn’t Yuan who had found him after the attack.

Zelos heard a noise behind him and looked round to see Kratos emerging from the bedroom.

Ignoring Zelos’s baffled look, Kratos threw a conspiratorial smile towards Yuan and continued to the kitchen where he thirstily drank a glass of water. “You could have started making the sandwiches, Zelos.” He sounded marginally more jocular than annoyed.

“I only just got up,” Zelos defended himself, as he moved to join the man.

“A poor excuse. You’ll be in charge of catching tonight’s dinner,” Kratos joked. At least, Zelos assumed he did.

Together they went out to the coolhouse and brought back food for sandwiches, their packs, weapons and boots. When they returned to the house Martel was in Yuan’s arms on the sofa and they were both laughing and smiling.

“Morning, Zelos,” she chimed.

Zelos returned the greeting and set about making several rounds of meat and salad sandwiches, sneaking glances at the three friends while he worked. He’d never seen a working example of an open relationship before. Or even a closed threesome. What a fabulous arrangement, he thought. For Martel, at any rate.

He divided the sandwiches and some fruit between his and Kratos’s packs and filled their water skins from the pitcher. Walking back to his room to retrieve his belongings he stopped suddenly.

“Um, Martel, could you…uh…help me with something?”

“Oh, your back?” Zelos nodded. “Sure.”

Zelos was grateful that he didn’t have to explain himself. The looks he’d received from the other two men as he asked that question made him fear for his manhood. In the bedroom he pulled up the back of his vest and desperately tried to think pure thoughts as Martel’s delicate fingers rubbed the ointment into his bruises.

“These aren’t looking too bad now,” she commented. “Do they hurt much?”

“Not really. My muscles still ache a bit, though.”

“That’s to be expected.” Martel replaced the lid on the jar and Zelos let his clothes fall back into place. “Make sure Kratos lets you rest if you need to,” Martel said seriously. “And take the rest of this with you.” She offered him the jar.

“Hey, listen. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me. And for all the stuff you and Yuan have given me. I’d like to be able to repay you, but Yuan gave me the impression I won’t be welcome back.” Zelos pouted.

Martel looked rather surprised. “That’s not entirely true. Yuan’s just very protective. It’s not safe for us to advertise exactly where we live.”

“Hey, I can keep a secret!” Zelos smiled. “I wouldn’t want anyone to harm the world’s most beautiful angel.” He took Martel’s hand and kissed it softly.

She smiled coyly. “You are kind, Zelos. But really, there are no favours to be repaid. Promise me you’ll take care, now.” Standing on tiptoes she planted a kiss on Zelos’s good cheek. “And take care of Kratos for me.”

Zelos chuckled, “Sure thing.”

Zelos left the room shortly after Martel and did up the toggles on his pink overcoat as he entered the living room.

“What?” he asked, feeling somewhat defensive as Kratos stared at him with a frown.

“I take it you don’t have anything darker to wear.”

Zelos looked from his own pale clothes to the dark trousers and jacket that Kratos wore. He look unnervingly like the men who had attacked the stagecoach, except that he had only a light stubble on his chin.

“Never mind,” Kratos sighed. “We’ll just have to keep ourselves hidden.”

Zelos seethed inside. Obviously he wasn’t going to be able to do anything right on this journey. Now more than ever he was looking forward to getting home.

He suddenly became aware of Yuan’s outstretched hand. Shaking it firmly he looked into the man’s aquamarine eyes. “Thank you, Yuan, for your hospitality and your generosity. If I can ever repay it, please let me know.”

Yuan merely nodded. Meanwhile Kratos and Martel were hugging each other tightly, Kratos with his eyes closed as though he was savouring the memory of her.

“You will come back soon, won’t you?” Martel asked him quietly.

“I’ll try,” he said as he let her go.

Kratos and Yuan met in a bear hug, slapping each other’s backs as Martel looked on, smiling. Zelos suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable and eager to leave. Picking up his pack from the kitchen he stuffed in the items he’d fetched from the bedroom and fastened the buckles. “Right then, let’s get going,” he said cheerfully as he watched Kratos pick up his own pack.

The two men left the house and walked down a hill through forest greenery. Zelos glanced back and waved an arm at the couple standing together in the clearing. Martel waved back.

“Lovely couple,” he commented to himself. “I think I might miss them.”

“Look where you’re going.”

Stumbling slightly, Zelos stuck out his tongue at Kratos’s back and continued to pick his way through the undergrowth.

* * *

Kratos’s pace really was quite fast, and relentless. He led Zelos through the dense forest, far from, but parallel to, the main road. After several hours of rambling without so much as a break for water Zelos was about ready to collapse.

Kratos finally suggested they stop for lunch as the sun neared the peak of its journey. As Zelos dropped onto a log with a weary sigh Kratos eyed him with concern.

“If you needed to stop sooner, you should have said. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Zelos attempted to frown at him, but he simply lacked the energy to do so. Looking over to where the elder man sat he realised that, for once, Kratos wasn’t mocking him.

“It’s my job to protect you, remember? Not to drive you into an early grave.”

Zelos remained silent, as he had all morning, and attempted to shrug the pack off his shoulders. Oww…. His back was killing him. After fumbling with the pack feebly he pulled out a sandwich and bit into it hungrily, grateful for some sustenance at last.

Looking at his grubby fingernails he grimaced in disgust and wished he had a pair of gloves with him. Trampling through the undergrowth and clambering over obstacles of fallen trees had taken its toll on the rest of his attire, also. The hems of his trousers and his beloved pink coat had caught on various brambles and torn. He’d ended up tucking his trousers into his boots. The boots themselves were now caked in a layer of brown and green muck. His hair was continually snagging on low twiggy branches and now resembled something of a bird’s nest.

What he did welcome, however, was the shade of the trees. Now they had stopped he was sweating profusely and, as he pulled his sweatband down to wipe his face, he noticed that it was smeared with brown marks where he had touched it throughout the day. Finishing his sandwich he reached for his water skin and poured some of the clear liquid into his mouth then onto his hands, rubbing them in an attempt to clean himself up a little.

“Don’t waste your water, Zelos. We won’t reach the river until this time tomorrow.”

Sighing, Zelos put his water away and grabbed an apple before standing up – not an effortless task.

“I suggest you stretch out your muscles.”

“Yes, thank you, Kratos. I’m not a complete imbecile,” Zelos snapped. Honestly, friendly advice was one thing, but this guy just didn’t let up. Zelos chomped on his apple angrily and bent down to touch his toes. Oww…. So painful, yet so good, thought Zelos, hearing the cartilage along his spine grate noisily.

As he stood up he noticed that Kratos was staring determinedly in another direction. Following his gaze Zelos didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, then he realised with a smirk that he’d probably just given Kratos quite the display of his own fine backside.

Which reminded him….

“So…this thing with your friends,” Zelos began. Kratos looked back at him and arched an eyebrow. “Is it a three-way thing or do you and Yuan just like to share?”

He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he just couldn’t resist asking. He’d been thinking about it all morning, when he wasn’t bitching at the foliage. But perhaps he should’ve broached the matter a little more carefully. For once he could see Kratos’s emotions in his eyes. The man clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply, his entire body radiating barely controlled anger.

Zelos found himself prepared to run, if necessary.

Kratos looked down and flexed his fingers several times before picking up his water skin and taking a sip. Zelos noticed the hand was shaking.

“We’re moving on,” Kratos announced as he shoved the pouch back into his pack and stood up.

Zelos resisted the urge to back away as Kratos came towards him.

“And if you ever talk about Martel again like that,” he said in a low voice, “I will make you dig your own grave. Understand?”

Zelos nodded dumbly, eyes wide, and dropped his apple.

* * *

A couple of hours later Zelos was truly regretting his decision to piss Kratos off. Kratos’s pace was even faster; he was almost leaping over tree trunks. Zelos honestly didn’t know what was compelling him to follow. He felt like a walking zombie. Plus he had this niggling feeling that if he wasn’t tagging along Kratos might be going even faster. The man didn’t appear to be tiring at all.

“Okay, I’m sorry!” Zelos panted, coming to a halt and resting his hands on his knees. “I’m sorry I upset you, but can we stop for a minute or slow down, or something? Please?” The last word was a pathetic wail, and as he ran out of breath he sank to his knees, wheezing.

Kratos turned round and walked back towards Zelos. “I’d prefer to keep moving, now you’ve announced our presence to every creature within a mile of here,” he said quietly.

Zelos looked up at him, a sorry, bedraggled mess. “I just…can’t….” His voice trailed off into a coughing fit and he leaned forward on one hand, hacking loudly into the other.

Kratos immediately dropped to the ground and sought his water for the man who was paying his salary. As the coughing subsided he rested his hand on Zelos’s back and rubbed gently. “Just breathe deeply.”

When Zelos regained some control Kratos removed his hand and offered him the water.

“Thanks,” said Zelos after a gulp. He noticed Kratos was frowning again.

“I’m sorry for pushing you so hard. But I thought you were fitter than this.”

Zelos smiled wryly. “So did I,” he chuckled, sparking another brief coughing fit. He held his hand up as Kratos moved towards him again. “I’m okay.” Who was he kidding? He should have known he wouldn’t be up to this. He had a certain level of stamina, but…perhaps not for all-day power walks. Right now he’d much rather wither under his sister’s disapproving looks than endure this physical torture.

“I guess the rumours aren’t true, then,” Kratos smirked.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. We’ll rest here for a while, until you’re ready to move on,” Kratos decided, as he narrowed his eyes and turned his head slowly, searching the surrounding area for…gods knew what.

“Try eating some more fruit, to keep your energy levels up,” Kratos suggested as he sat down opposite Zelos.

Hmm, not a bad idea, Zelos thought. He rifled through the contents of his bag until he found what he was looking for. A big, juicy peach. Only slightly squashed. He took a large bite and slurped against the fruit so the juice didn’t run down his chin.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, you know,” said Zelos. “I think the world of Martel.” Chomp.

Kratos was silent for a moment, not looking up at Zelos.

“It really is none of your business.”

“I know,” Zelos shrugged and swallowed his mouthful. “I was just curious. But, since I’m paying you an obscene amount of money to accompany me home, it might be nice if you talked to me other than to give me orders.” He took another bite of the peach, but this time the juice trickled down his chin and made its way slowly down his neck. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and, as he chewed, noticed Kratos looking at him strangely.

“First of all, you’ll remember that I was already coming this way. You chose to accompany me. Secondly, you’re paying for my protection, not my entertainment.”

“That’s rich!” Zelos balked, almost choking on the fruit. “Look at the state of me!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide and looking down at his dirty, ripped clothing.

“I can’t protect you from your vanity, Zelos.”

He looked at Kratos for a moment, mouth agape. That wasn’t exactly what he’d meant, but he supposed the man did have a point.

“Well, you’re no fun at all,” Zelos grumbled, and finished eating his peach.

* * *

What have I done to deserve this? Kratos wondered, not for the first time. I’ll kill Yuan the next time I see him.

He glanced back at Zelos, trailing listlessly behind him. Taking in his dishevelled state he smiled inwardly at the fact that he’d brought the arrogant nobleman down a peg or two. But he doubted they’d make it to Meltokio by dusk tomorrow at this rate.

Have patience, Kratos, he told himself. We’ll get there, eventually.

He really was shocked at Zelos’s lack of stamina. It didn’t appear to have anything to do with his recent injuries, although he supposed he should probably make some allowances, all things considered. Zelos just didn’t seem to be capable of exerting himself for long periods of time. That didn’t fit with his reputation, at all.

From what Kratos had gleaned in his numerous visits to Meltokio over the last few years, Zelos Wilder was a playboy extraordinaire. Considerably well-endowed, he could charm his way into any woman’s bed and outlast any man at an orgy. Not unlike Kratos, himself. Except that Kratos was far more discreet. And probably less charming.

Having now met the man, Kratos was at a loss trying to understand just what women saw in Zelos. He was vain, conceited, nosy and incredibly annoying. There was nothing sexy about the effeminate way Zelos fluffed his hair every few minutes, and his utterly ridiculous fighting style was surely designed to render his enemies helpless due to uncontrollable laughter.

Although, there was a certain prettiness under that colourful bruise, and his hair was rich and glossy, when it wasn’t tangled and full of twigs. Still, Kratos preferred sleek, shiny, understated hairstyles. Like Yuan’s, for example. But Zelos’s lips were fuller. Or was that just the swelling? Kratos struggled not to remember the way those soft, rosy lips had earlier wrapped themselves around the firm fruit; the way the errant juice had slid seductively down his pale throat.

Bah – get a hold of yourself, Aurion! He’s not my type, thought Kratos. Not my type, at all.

* * *

The forest began to darken as the sun approached the horizon. Kratos slowed down somewhat and ordered Zelos to gather as much dry wood as possible. Eventually they stopped in a small clearing between some trees and tall bushes, depositing their finds onto the grassy earth.

Zelos slumped back against a tree as Kratos built a fire a few feet away from him. Wordlessly he retrieved the remaining sandwiches from his pack and chewed on them slowly, almost too tired to eat.

Zelos’s sulky demeanour was studiously ignored by his companion and he didn’t blame Kratos one bit. Zelos himself usually had no time for unhappy, melodramatic people but today he couldn’t stop feeling sorry for himself. How had he ended up like this; filthy, exhausted, in the middle of nowhere with a man he could barely stand, and who almost certainly couldn’t stand him?

Watching Kratos carefully light the pile of wood Zelos wondered how the man could see through the curtain of hair that fell in front of his eyes. And whether it took long to achieve that stylishly messed up look.

The flames took hold and lit Kratos’s face from below. He looked up at Zelos then moved to lean against a tree opposite him, before bringing some food out of his own bag.

Having finished his dinner Zelos’s eyes were starting to droop. “Won’t that attract unwanted attention?” he slurred.

“Most humans travel during the light of day. The fire itself should ward off any predators. Don’t go wandering too far, though.”

Zelos smiled slightly with closed eyes. He wasn’t planning to stand up again for a very long time. He started as he felt something land on his lap. Looking down he found a folded blanket.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, looking directly at Kratos.

“Get some shuteye. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

What? “Why?” Zelos moaned.

“So I can get some rest, too. One of us needs to keep watch on the surroundings and make sure the fire doesn’t go out.”

“Oh.” Zelos fumbled with the blanket, pulling it over him and resuming his sulking. “So what do you do when you travel alone?”

“I don’t sleep on the ground.”

Zelos blinked, not comprehending.

Kratos sighed. “I sleep in trees, Zelos.”

“Seriously? That can’t be comfortable.”

“It’s not supposed to be comfortable. I still need to be alert, even when I’m sleeping.”

Zelos realised he had so many questions to ask of Kratos, but right now he could barely form a coherent thought. His eyes drooped closed again. “Night night,” he mumbled.

* * *

Zelos awoke to a pair of dark eyes, set in a beautiful yet serious face, flickering with an orange glow. He flinched slightly at Kratos’s proximity and the man hastily removed his hand from Zelos’s shoulder.

“Ho–“ Zelos cleared his throat and tried again. “How long have I been asleep?” He felt as though he’d only just nodded off.

“Quite a while,” Kratos replied. “Dawn will break in a few hours. I only need a little sleep.” He pulled the blanket off of Zelos as he stood and made his way back to his own tree. “Wake me if you hear anything strange. And don’t let the fire go out before the sun rises.”

Zelos yawned and stretched his arms behind him, then above him, before rubbing his eyes and face in an attempt to wake himself up. Feeling nature’s call he wandered a little way behind his tree to relieve himself.

Returning back to the campfire he sat down and ate another apple, all the while studying Kratos’s sleeping form, propped up against the tree. There was little else to look at.

Zelos’s mind swam once again with the many queries surrounding this mysterious man. Why would anyone choose this nomadic lifestyle, much less enjoy it? Didn’t Kratos have family somewhere? Were Yuan and Martel his only close friends? How does a man end up sharing his best friend’s wife? Was Kratos’s relationship with Yuan really that strong? Or was it more than just friendship?

He shivered slightly. The idea of Kratos and Yuan…together…made him feel a little strange. Although not in a bad way.

He pictured Yuan’s soft blue hair, strong fingers gently caressing the strands; a sober face under locks of auburn hair; the two figures moving closer, breathing heavily….

Zelos’s eyes flew open and he gasped for air. He was feeling flushed and his pants were straining slightly at the groin. What the hell was wrong with him? He cast a furtive glance at Kratos, relieved to find that he hadn’t moved, as if he might somehow be able to sense Zelos’s thoughts; those strangely alluring images….

Zelos breathed deeply and leaned back against the tree trunk, staring up into the dark canopy above him. There really was nothing to focus on except the fire, Kratos and his own lascivious thoughts. He needed something to keep him occupied; the minutes were ticking by interminably slowly.

Surely there were other things he’d rather think about. Other people, even. Beautiful women, like Martel, for instance. Mmm, Martel and her tender touch, her sublime figure, her lustful cries….

Yes, perhaps he’d lie back and think about Martel. Just for a few minutes.


A/N: If I’ve turned you to the dark side (mwahaha), show your support for KxZ luff at angelicVision: http://jibbyjobby.morethanart.org/angelic