A/N: Only two chapters in and I've already gone a day past my deadline (Thursday). Sorry guys!

Wir für unsere Überzeugungen zu kämpfen, e onorare la pace

We fight for our beliefs, and honour the peace

Chapter 2: Distrusting Captures and a Thunderstorm

The first thing that Alfred noticed was that he had the biggest headache, worse than a hangover at its best. He didn't dare open his eyes; least the migraine let loose a new wave of pain. Alfred was smart enough to know by now that light in any form would just make things worse. He tried going back to sleep, but the headache wouldn't let him. It was then that something got through the pain in his skull. Not only was he dealing with the mother of all migraines, but his hands and feet were tied so tight that the rope was rubbing his ankles and wrists red; they'd probably be raw before long. No wonder he couldn't sleep.

This was bad. This was all very very bad. However, it would be better dealt with when the throbbing went away, and thus brought on a long period of drifting into light slumber, before being torn out of it by some new wave of pain or another. In that way Alfred very soon lost track of the day and time. He had no idea if it had been two days or three months since he'd first been captured by that crazy guy on a unicorn. It had to be him who was keeping him tied; that was the only explanation.

It was who knew how long later, when Alfred suddenly woke up free of the usual headache, though the ropes still bound his feet and hands. Sure the migraine had dulled over time, but this was definitely new. He could think clearly again, and he opened his eyes more than slits to look in the room around him; or, in this case, the cave around him.

Said cave wasn't very large and dimly lit (the location of the light source was a mystery; it seemed to come from nowhere, but everywhere all at once). There was a passage that led out of the opposite wall, but other than that there was no way of escape. After eyeing around the otherwise unremarkable room, Alfred concluded that this was some sort of cell and he was being held captive for some reason. This, of course, meant that there was no way that they'd just leave him with an exit that wasn't guarded. The prisoner's stomach growled and his throat was patched. Alfred was tied up and he had finally deduced that the source of light came from down the passageway. The optimistic part of him piped up to reminded him that at least he wasn't dead, or mortally wounded.

Well, at least. He was really hungry though.

It was then that the captive noticed that there was a tray set off to his right with three pastries and some sort of drink that had long ago gone cold. After inching over and awkwardly holding the cup in his bound hands, Alfred realised it was some sort of tea.

"Yuck," he commented before picking up a pastry—which turned out to be a scone edging on a dark brown hue. It didn't taste good, but he was able to get over it. Al was hungry, and he'd likely start eating his own shoe soon if he didn't find something to eat.

After eating all three scones and licking up the little crumbs that had fallen, Alfred eyed the tea. To drink, or not to drink? Hmm-

"It's not poisoned," remarked a quiet voice, making the boy jump, and his head swivel around.

"Who said that?" asked the blonde. He looked around the room several times, but no one was there.

The voice seemed to almost sigh before remarking, "Me." Alfred frowned and the voice elaborated, "Over here, behind you." After turning the prisoner shrieked and backed up until he felt the cold stone wall plastered against his shoulder blades.

The boy in front of him winced at the response. "I won't hurt you…" he promised in his quiet and gentle voice. Said boy was pale and the dark stones behind him showed through his translucent body. He had shoulder length hair, and one stubborn piece stuck out from the rest, a little loop half way down from it hung next to his face, which was peeking out from behind the top of a stuffed white bear. "My name is Matthew Williams," Matthew introduced himself in his quiet voice.

Alfred settled for just staring at the ghost with big eyes instead of shrieking again, because to be truthful the noise he had made resembled a little school girl; very un-heroic. While Matthew floated above the ground a bit and tried to hide from the staring behind the white bear, someone had walked into the little room unnoticed.

The messy haired man chuckle and then, "He's just a ghost, completely harmless," was said from the person that had been riding a unicorn last time the confused knight sitting in the room had seen him. He raised a bushy eyebrow at Alfred as he picked up the tray that the cup of tea sat on. "You didn't drink your tea."

"Of course I didn't. Who drinks tea?" the knight said, looking at the drink as if it was made with nightshade as the main ingredient.

The man appeared as if he was about to kill, maim, or possible torture. "I DO, YOU BLOODY GIT!" he huffed, gripping the tray with white knuckles.

Alfred smiled and held his hands up in an 'I surrender'. It was a little bit difficult with his hands tied though. "Hey no need to get pissy," he remarked while barely holding in chuckles and giggles. This weird guy sure looked funny when he got mad. Like an angry fuzzy caterpillar. Al dubbed him 'the Caterpillar'. He had to call him something after all. Might as well be something that just begged to be laughed at.

Matthew spoke up before Alfred's angry captor could punch him in the face, "Please, stop it both of you," his voice never rose much above a whisper; it was a miracle that they could hear him, really, "Arthur, you came here for a reason I assume."

"Ah, yes," Alfred noted that he had a most bizarre accent (he remembered thinking the same thing upon their first meeting as well), "Sir…Knight—"

"Wait how do you know I'm a knight?"

The 'Caterpillar' snorted, "Because only knights lug around such stupid armour like that."

Alfred begged to object that the armour wasn't 'stupid', it was what a hero wore. Arthur didn't give him a chance to say anything however before he continued, "As I was saying, what business do you have in this forest?"

"That's easy. I'm out to slay the dragon that's been plaguing the south-eastern towns. I'm going to be a hero." The knight beamed a big toothy smile at his captor and the forgotten ghost.

Both of the others frowned considerably. They exchanged a worried glance before turning to face their prisoner once more. "That," there was a paused, "is a problem." remarked the Caterpillar—who Alfred had deduced was Arthur, but 'the Caterpillar' sound much better to him, so why not keep the name?

Al frowned in return, only his was in confusion, "What? Why would killing a dragon be a problem? I'm gonna help people and become a hero!"

"First off, it's 'going to' you prat," started Arthur, "Second, how do you know this dragon is supposedly 'bad'? Why can't a dragon be good for once, hmm?" He sounded almost defensive, which was comical; a human defending a dragon? Alfred must have heard him wrong.

"Well, sir, all dragons are bad. It's their nature. They plunder villages, steal sheep, and eat people. I don't know about you, but I think that qualifies as 'bad'." Alfred said it slowly, as if to get through to someone slow and stupid.

Matthew cut in again before Arthur could strangle the knight, "Well maybe you're wrong. Ever thought that dragons had families too, eh?"

It seemed that the ghost had said too much for his human companion's liking, however. "Matthew, that's enough," he snapped, "I'm going to go put this tray away and warm up the tea again. There's no point in wasting good black tea." And with that Arthur left the room in silence.

"Has he got something up his ass?" Alfred asked with a quick smirk.

"He's just a bit on edge…" said Matthew apologetically.

"Ve~ it sure looks like a big angry storm is brewing, huh?" commented a bright young cook, standing next to a group of his friends outside of the Albino Hawk in Annabeth. He put a hand over his brow and beheld the cloudy grey sky above him. He was right, a huge storm was about to hit town.

"I sure hope that knight of ours stays safe out there, it would be pretty un-awesome if he died before we got to hear his awesome story..." mentioned the albino owner of the Albino Hawk, before getting cut off by a punch in the arm courtesy of younger his brother.

"Bruder," he began scolding sternly.

At this point Feliciano had wandered over towards his brother, who was talking with Antonio about how he hoped a damn storm wouldn't ruin his garden.

"Don't worry Lovi~ I have the perfect thing to calm you down!" at this, the man smiled at the two as he began to chant, "Fuso-so-soso~" over and over soothingly as he spread his arms towards the Vargas brothers as if throwing something at them, but in a slower, more dramatic motion.

Feliciano seemed almost mesmerized and calm for the first time said since the storm had rolled in overhead, but Lovino on the other hand wanted to punch Antonio's face. He opened his mouth to tell him to shut up and quit being such an idiot when a loud crack of thunder and a peel of lightning tore the darkening skies. At once they all ceased conversation and considered the clouds that were almost growling above them. It began to pelt down rain almost immediately.

Francis cried out as the first icy drops landed on him, "Mon dieu! We'll be soaked to the bone if we stay out here!"

"Everybody inside!" barked Ludwig over the thunder. The group scurried inside to the bar and inn where they all drank hot cider in attempts to keep out the chill that had leaked in with the opening of the door.

Ludwig gazed out the window briefly and looked up at the clouds as he said, "Just be safe out there," to nobody in particular. He then went to join the others and comfort a once again frantic Feli, who was wailing about scary storms and 'why couldn't it just rain pasta instead'.

CRACK-BOOM!

Although tied up, Alfred jumped like he had just been electrocuted. Mathew remained calm, and appeared to have a friendly smirk in his face, as if he knew exactly when each crack of thunder would hit. It was almost creepy…

"I hate big ass storms like these," the knight mumbled to himself.

The Caterpillar had come back in the room soon after the lightning had struck and commented with a sneer, "What, are you afraid your silly armour might rust? Or is it just a little bit of water and lightning that makes you so concerned?" He calmly sipped his tea, as if he too knew all about the storm.

The night sniffed. "No, it's just- aw crap, TONY!" Great… just great. Here he was stuck in a storm in a room with a magic 'Caterpillar' and a ghost while his steed was out in the rain with all his provisions. And weapons. And tent. And everything else for that matter.

Then Arthur spoke up, still smirking at the distraught knight with his arms crossed, "Oh, speaking of that horse. I thought you should know, Nat and Kat—those wolves you met—went off yesterday in search for it. It ran off when Feliks went to check on it. Probably lost or eaten by now."

Alfred's expression slowly changed from troubled to a mixture of shock, and worry, and maybe even a bit of fear. "What? Not cool! Tony's my trusty steed! I grew up with him, man!"

Arthur shrugged and took another sip of his tea. "So sorry." he said. He didn't sound sorry at all. More like sarcastic.

"Ass."

"Wanker."

"What gives you the right to start calling me names?" asked a very angry Alfred, "I didn't do anything to you. In fact, what did I do to end up in here, tied up and forced to eat burnt food and tea!?"

"My cooking is bloody perfect, you idiot!" Arthur snapped back.

The prisoner snorted, "Really? Because I don't think that you're supposed to burn the food." He didn't even realise that he had been distracted from his original question: Why was he here?

The once again forgotten ghost cleared his throat and spoke up, "I thought, Arthur, you might want to know that the elves have made contact through Elizabeta that they are on their way and were last known to be at the northern forest border with the Nordic Mountains."

Arthur immediately straightened and adopted a serious look. He muttered something under his breath that Alfred couldn't make out before turning and with long strides, headed toward the passageway that led out of the little prison. "Matthew, have Feliks prepare the guest quarters and tell the sprites to get ready for company. We will need food, and I'm sure that those five will want dry clothes after their trek through the storm out there." the magic user ordered as he walked.

Matthew nodded and replied, "Right away, Dragon's Boy," before disappearing out of the room.

Alfred took the quiet to speak up before his capture got out of ear-shot, "Hey, why did he call you 'Dragon's Boy'?" he shifted his legs, the rope rubbed against his skin, making him wince, "And could you untie me?"

Arthur paused only long enough to gaze back at his prisoner and reply coldly, "That's none of your business." He didn't even answer Alfred's second question, but he didn't have to. Leaving was answer enough; stupid Caterpillar.

Somewhere far away thunder rumbled. The knight stared around the room, suddenly feeling like it was very large. The silence after the thunder was almost just as unbearable as the loud noise itself. The roll of thunder sounded once more, only this time it was much louder, and seemed to come from closer. Alfred looked up over his head at the grey stone above him. The blonde hoped that everyone back at Annabeth was okay, and that the storm wasn't too much damage to the small town. His knight master hadn't prepared him for anything like this. If anything did happen, they wouldn't have the optimistic blonde there to be the hero and save everyone. Then what would they do?

Back at Annabeth voices hollered over the noise of the storm. Boots splashed through puddles as their wearers didn't bother to try and avoid them. Everyone was in an almost organized panic. The river just to the east of the town, the Potámi, was on the verge of flooding from all of the rain water. If it did the entire town and most of the valley would be underwater. The town's people ran through the sheets of water that were being dumped on the land. Some of them had been sent to help those that were trying to erect a barrier, some were being set to get as much of the livestock and small children up to higher ground as they could, and others were attempting to save valuables in vain.

"Francis! Get as much of the food as you can in a cart and get one of the horses to pull it. Get two if you have to. Antonio, you need to round up as many of the animals as you can. Have Lovino help you out if you must. Feliciano—"

"Yes, sir?" came a small, scared voice.

Ludwig paused to contemplate the distraught southerner looking up at him. "Make sure that all of the very young and the elders get to safety. Follow Antonio; he knows the way up into the hills better than you do." When addressing the slightly younger, the military general voice softened just a bit. He ruffled Feliciano's hair before turning to the others and resuming giving out orders. "Gilbert, help the others build the barricade. Bring with you a cart and some shovels. Don't waist one of the horses though. I know you can pull it yourself," he continued to give out orders to anyone he found moving without a purpose as he ran down the road to help Gilbert and the others at the barrier.

Antonio and Lovino had run off and started rounding up all of the livestock. While he got the smaller animals like the goats and chickens, Lovino was handling the mules and some of dairy cows. All of them—including the two humans—were nervous from the storm, and this made the horses skittish and the goats unruly. The two were still able to get most of the town's animals on the way to the hills closest to Annabeth.

As the duo worked with the animals, the other Vargas was helping two mothers with the children. They loaded up the little kids and those too old to keep up into a cart which was pulled by a horse. After that was done, Feli led the ropes of the animal's bridle and trailed far enough after Antonio and Lovino that the noises of the livestock were faint, but close enough that in the pouring rain they could still see the grey smudge that marked the other group.

The going was slow, but both parties were able to make it to high ground.

Francis had his own cart that he was loading the second cart with barrels of wine and boxes of food. A couple of slabs of meat, and some cheese made it onto the cart as well as a keg of beer and a few of the caged chickens that were held in the town's only restaurant like establishment (not including the Albino Hawk's pub). He soon was also on his way through the sheets of rain, toward the hills that would offer if not shelter from the storm, then at least protection from any rising waters.

Most of the town was already camping under sparse trees with the animals that Antonio and Lovino had saved. However, there were a few brave souls still down by the Potámi River. Led by Ludwig, they continued through the storm in an attempt to save their homes. They worked to save Annabeth from drowning even when the icy rain turned to sleet, and then beating hail. The small team of maybe eleven worked in shifts until the storm ended.

The sun finally broke through the thick ceiling of grey black clouds six days later.

A/N: Okay, next time I'll be on time! But, I am probably going to take a break for the holidays. I'm having a bit of trouble writing for some of the characters in these next two chapters, and I don't know if I'll have any internet or not. If not, then happy holidays! I'll be back again next year!