So...instead of doing my homework, I started writing this. I've been having fun writing non-insert ToS stories recently, what with working on The Final Straw, and wanted to start my own story about the heroes of the Kharlan War. I'm going to try and follow the characters' basic backgrounds, which I found on the Tales wiki (Aselia), while also trying to add my own touches, like Darren. Hopefully it turns out as well as I am imagining it.

Disclaimer: I do not own ToS or any of the locations, characters, or storylines that are included.

The Aristocrat

Kratos had never been overly fond of fancy parties. There were too many people in ridiculously flamboyant outfits, and each and every one of them spoke about something dull and usually mundane. There was also a sort of chaos to the crowd, but it was a much more organized chaos than Kratos was used to. He was used to the running and shouts and press of bodies that came with war; here, it more common to see people tripping over someone else's clothing or hurrying across the room to talk to one person in particular or, on occasion, attempting to hastily correct something that had been said and only making it worse. The chaos was quieter, subtler, but that was the only word for it. And Kratos was sick and tired of it.

If he had had a choice, Kratos would have preferred to be fighting or planning instead of standing about watching the nobles make fools of themselves. However, he had no choice in the matter - as one of the protectors of Tethe'alla's royal family, it was required that he attend their pretty gatherings in order to ensure nothing untoward happened. This mostly meant that he stood beside the wall and stared out over people's heads, occasionally walking amongst the nobles to remind them of his presence. There were a few other soldiers doing the same thing, the difference between them and Kratos being that they actually seemed to be enjoying themselves.

The young man shifted uncomfortably in his armor, trying to get it to stop pressing into his sides so sharply. He would have been fine if he had been allowed his normal armor, though it was too worn and dull to wear to such an established gathering. Instead, he wore bulkier, more brilliantly engraved armor that had been designed to look pleasant, rather than for actual practical uses such as defense. It was mostly blue, with silver edging and thin swirling patterns that were dyed green. The crest of Tethe'alla was displayed prominantly on the breastplate, dyed in an array of bright colors. Kratos felt absolutely ridiculous in the armor.

"See anything interesting?" Kratos turned to see who had spoken, a small smile coming to his face. There were few enough reasons to smile anymore, with his recent promotion to leader of the Tethe'allan army after his father's death, not to mention the constant war that waged just outside the capital's walls. However, he always managed to pull up a smile when confronted with Soleille, the king's daughter. She could only be called beautiful, with her sweeping blue gown and her blond hair pulled into a tight braid down her back. Her light green eyes glittered happily, her innocence so far unspoiled by the sights of war, and she wore only a light dusting of make-up, something that stood out amongst the noble women who had make-up an inch thick.

"Well now I do," Kratos said light-heartedly, the cheerful words sounding strange on his tongue. Like smiling, playful banter was usually about as far from his thoughts as Sylvarant's capital was from Tethe'alla's, and yet it also tended to show itself more frequently around Soleille. She giggled, her face coloring lightly. "Are you enjoying yourself this evening?"

Soleille smiled, a flash of perfectly white teeth, as she looked around at the assembled nobles. "Well enough," she answered, nodding politely to a couple of noble women who were trying to catch her eye. The women hesitated for a moment before moving off amongst the crowd, getting lost in the swirling mass of color. "However, it didn't think it was possible for someone to recieve so many well wishes, and I know there are more to come."

"Well, this gathering is for your birthday," Kratos pointed out, doing a quick sweep of the crowd. He was rather glad that his height just surpassed six feet, as it was a simple matter of gazing over everyone's heads without even having to strain his neck. "And from what I gather, it makes a nice story for someone to say that they personally conversed with Tethe'alla's princess, even if everyone else also has."

Another giggle escape her lips, light hearted and childish. But then, Soleille wasn't too far out of childhood to begin with, having just turned eighteen that day. "Yes, I suppose you're right, as always." Pulling her attention away from the quiet mutters and laughter that filled the room, she turned her eyes up to the young soldier, a man just three years her senior. "Do you participate in these conversations, Kratos, or have you been eavesdropping again?"

"It's hardly eavesdropping if no one is making an effort to conceal their conversation," Kratos said matter-of-factly. Solielle attempted to give him a stern, reproachful look, but the effort was wasted as her lips kept trying to pull upward at the corners. Looking out at the nobles once more, Kratos gestured to the crowd with one heavy gauntlet, saying, "As much as I enjoy this conversation, I think you should rejoin your fans. There seems to be a great many people who are still wanting to have that bragging right."

Soleille rolled her eyes slightly, the motion almost imperceptable, and rested her hand on Kratos's arm. "I suppose I should. I'll be seeing you another time then, Kratos. Be careful you don't strain your muscles with all that smiling."

Now it was Kratos's turn to roll his eyes and he gave her a gentle push back into the mass of vibrantly colored people. "I'll try," he said dryly. "Happy birthday, Soleille." She smiled and waved over her shoulder before she was intercepted and verbally dragged into the crowd of waiting nobles. Kratos looked around once more before deciding a change of scenery was needed. He stretched his legs, stiff from standing still for so long and from supporting the armor's ridiculous weight, and started through the crowd, eyes sweeping left and right as he walked. People shifted out of his way, not wanting to accidentally get hit by the heavily armored young man.

For a few minutes, Kratos walked amongst the nobles, half-listening to their conversations. Here, someone was talking about a decline in fresh fruits; there, someone was telling a rather cruel story about a half-elven boy they had to run from their property; and way over there, there was a debate over the proper way to apply a healing gel. Overall, there was nothing interesting, but listening to the pointless chattering gave Kratos something else to focus on besides the never-ending sea of colors, which was starting to make his eyes ache.

Finally, when it started to feel like his armor was getting heavier, he returned to his spot against the wall, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. The party had been in progress for the last two hours, and it showed no signs of stopping. Kratos's muscles were beginning to protest the weight that they were being forced to hold up. Why the dress armor couldn't be just as light as normal armor while still looking nice, he had no idea. Perhaps he could suggest something lighter at some point, since it would hardly do to have the soldiers collasping under the weight of all the steel forced on them.

The young army leader was left alone for a little while, no one really paying him much attention. For all they cared, he was simply there for decoration, a nice little display set up along the wall. Not that Kratos wanted anyone to approach him. Though he was more than capable of the kind of speech necessary to speak to the nobles, it would only be sickening niceties and then pointless chatter, which would distract him from his reason of standing in one spot for hours on end. However, even though the nobles didn't seem at all interested in him, it didn't mean that no one wanted to strike up a conversation.

A young man, not quite out of his teens, came up beside Kratos with a large grin. He was dressed in the same heavily decorated armor and a spear was strapped to his back. His brown eyes gleamed with a childish interest, and his own auburn hair stuck straight up as if he'd been struck by a Lightning spell. It was pretty obvious at first glance that the two young men were related.

"What did you do now, Darren?" Kratos sighed, turning his attention to his little brother. He'd been staring at nobles for a full two hours; no one would mind if he looked away for a little bit to berate the teenager before him.

Darren gave an exaggerated shrug, enough so that it actually moved the shoulder plates of his armor, his grin turning into a sly smile. "You know the Talias's daughter, Ellie?" Kratos thought about it for a moment before nodding. Ellie was a little younger than his brother's seventeen and was normally so shy that she wouldn't speak if there was someone around that she didn't know. Immediately, Darren's smile grew and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making his older brother snort in disgust.

"You were supposed to be working, not getting together with yet another girl," Kratos said with a shake of his head, turning away from his little brother. "And when you get in trouble for this, I am the last person that wants to hear your complaints." Darren huffed and his armor clanked; Kratos assumed he had crossed his arms.

"Why would I get in trouble? It's not like I forced her to do anything she didn't want," he protested. Kratos glanced his way and raised a skeptical eyebrow. While the teen never physically forced a girl to be with him, he usually had some manipulative hand in the decision. "What? I didn't! Apparently Ellie has had a crush on me for a while. She's been wanting to be with me, but she just hasn't wanted to tell me." Kratos kept up his skeptical look for a moment until Darren started to squirm uncomfortably, at which point the older of the two brothers resumed doing his job.

There was silence between the two for a moment, broken only by the continued noises of the princess's birthday celebrations. "You know, Kratos, you're too up-tight. You need to relax," Darren said suddenly, surprising the older Aurion.

"That's rather difficult, considering I'm leading half of a war," Kratos said after a moment.

"That's what I mean! You need to find time to relax a little bit or you're going to explode from all that bottled up stress," Darren said. The elder Aurion snorted, still not looking at his brother. "Like with Soleille. I bet she'd like that." There was no answer from Kratos except for him shifting uncomfortably where he stood. "Have you even kissed her yet?" Still no response, the silence dragging on for a minute before Darren suddenly started laughing. "You haven't, have you! I think you should. It'll help you enough, just that one kiss. And it might even lead to even more...relaxing activities with her."

Kratos looked around and glared at his brother, but the look that made many hardened soldiers flinch only made Darren's grin widen. "That's not the best answer to this supposed problem, and I also don't see how it's any of your business," he said curtly.

Still looking rather proud of himself, Darren shrugged, fiddling with one of the carvings in his armor. "I don't know, I think it's a pretty good answer myself. You never know until you've tried..."

"No," Kratos said simply, turning his back on his brother. "Now, you should probably go make another round. I think a fight may start between those two nobles over there, and they may need someone to mediate it." There was an irritated huff from behind him, but then Darren moved away, albeit with a bit of reluctance. When he was gone, Kratos let out a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head slowly. He could never understand how his little brother had turned out like he had. He'd grown up in the same household as Kratos, and yet somehow managed to be as different as was possible, personality-wise. It didn't make much sense.

Shaking his head once again to rid himself of thoughts of his brother, as well as unwanted mental images that Darren had inadvertantly put in his mind, Kratos once more turned his attention to the nobles. They were boring, but they at least weren't pressuring him to start suddenly kissing princesses.