Disclaimer: Try as I might, I still don't own ToS or the characters.

Chapter Six: Out of the Cave and Into the Woods

A drop of water bounced off Mithos' nose and he blinked an eye open when the freezing drop hit his skin. Yawning, he sat up and mussed his blonde hair, which had formed a shield around his eyes, much like a large bundle of hay that had been strapped to his face. After he straightened out his hair, the young boy looked around at the cavern he'd slept in. Water pooled in from the cave's mouth and collected in a small puddle near the entrance, as the rain hit down on the grassy hill it sat on. Mithos watched the puddle slowly expand and then sat back down on the relatively dry spot he'd occupied during the night.

Another drop of water hit Mithos' nose again and he gazed upwards towards the ceiling, his face now rather damp. Since the cave was set at a downward angle on the hill, water from outside had run along the walls and ceiling like a scattered stream. The self made upside down rivers glistened along the cavern's top and dripped down along the walls.

"... great. It leaks too. Just like home." He sighed and rubbed his face with his dirty sleeve. After it dried, he blinked his eyes a few times and then peeked around again. The cave was much like it had been when they'd found it the night before, and sunlight hadn't done a whole lot to make it any prettier. It was still as damp, dark and ominous as the night had led them to believe, but it was better than being out in the rain, so he didn't mind too much.

Martel was no longer asleep against the wall, but instead was in the corner of the room, her hands fast at work on something that he couldn't quite see. A new fire had been started, and thankfully hadn't yet been extinguished by the leaky cavern. Mithos got up, stretched and waved at her cheerily. Martel waved back, and then put a finger to her lips. Her brother paused, tilted his head and walked over.

"Morning, Martel." He called to her as he gingerly made his way around each puddle he came across. Since the puddles were more apparent than the actual dry ground, Mithos had to do a series of jumps to even get over to her. He was pretty good at the jumping, since he was so small and skinny.

"How are you this- Aaagh!" Mithos missed where'd he'd been planning on landing and his foot sank into a very cold, very wet puddle of rain water. When the frigid water hit his skin, he recoiled and grimaced as mud met with the rain water which made it worse. Martel covered up a laugh and shook her head, determined not to even let one giggle get by. However, it was very hard, because the look of disgust and horror on Mithos' face was downright hilarious.

"Gah, it's like playing hopscotch, but instead of a stone to avoid, it's a nasty puddle." He groaned, pulling his wet shoe, foot and pant leg out of the puddle. Wobbling over to Martel and the small fire, Mithos pulled off his shoe and, after he attached it to a nearby stick, began to toast it dry. Martel looked over at him and couldn't help herself.

She laughed, clutching her lap and the contents in it. Mithos looked over at her, sighed again and looked back at the fire.

"Yeah, Mithos' shoe roasting on an open fire. Very funny." He said flatly as he watched his shoe begin to shed itself of the water. Martel managed to calm herself after a moment and shook her head.

"I.. I'm sorry Mithos... I couldn't help it.. it's just.. too funny..." She said, trying to get her breath back. Mithos nodded and looked back at her.

"So uh.. what are you working on?" He asked her. Martel looked down at her lap and then showed him her needle and thread. Mithos blanched.

"Uh... you're not going to sow someone up.. are you?" He asked. Martel laughed.

"No silly. I'm patching up that part in his shirt that was ripped by the knife." She replied cheerily, mussing Mithos' hair. Mithos looked down at the shirt and then over at the sleeping swordsman.

"Oh, I gotcha." He nodded as he watched the man who was still out of it. He then glanced over her shoulder as she mended, his blonde hair draping over her shoulder.

"You got the blood out then?" He asked. Martel nodded.

"Yes, I did. Blood comes out with cold water and since it's raining, I had a lot of water to work with." She replied, her eyes down on her work. Mithos nodded once, looked away at part of the cave and then looked back over her shoulder.

"Is it a big rip?" He asked. Martel pulled out another piece of thread and laced it through the needle.

"It's not too bad. It's apparent, but not so horrid as to have to salvage the shirt for scrap cloth." She replied.

"Oh." Mithos breathed as he looked over her shoulder a bit more. He sniffed, wiped his nose with his sleeve and peered over her shoulder again.

"How long's he been out?" Mithos asked. Martel brushed some green hair out of her face.

"He hasn't moved since he originally fell unconscious." She reported. "And if he had, I'd guess you'd be the first one to know, seeing as how you spent the whole night right next to him."

Mithos blinked.

"Huh?" He asked. Martel looked up from her mending and pointed to a spot right next to the sleeping swordsman.

"You stayed there all night and didn't move. As such, you were right next to him, so if he moved, I think you would have noticed." She replied, pulling out the thread from the shirt and slipping it back through and in again in a quilting stitch.

"Oh." Mitho sighed sadly. He then glanced over her shoulder, though her shoulders were getting tense.

"How long's it gonna take?" He asked. Martel frowned.

"It depends on the serum on when he'll wake up-"

"No, not that. How long will it take to mend it?"

Martel sighed.

"It depends on how many times I get interrupted." she replied, her voice getting slightly tense.

"Oh." Mithos blinked. He grew silent and Martel's shoulders relaxed. She then resumed sowing, taking the needle back up and through the hole.

"Hey Martel-" Martel jumped and poked herself in the finger with her needle.

"Ouch.. what, Mithos?" She asked, her finger now sporting a bit of red at the tip.

"What color of thread are you using?" He asked. Martel sighed exasperatedly.

"What color does it look like?" She asked. Mithos looked over her shoulder again at the thread.

"It looks white." He replied.

"Then it's white." She said, now growing more tired than she had when she attempted healing the swordsman's wound. Mithos nodded and looked more over her shoulder to the point that she couldn't see past his head.

"Hey, Martel what kind of stitch are you using?"

"Quilting stitch, Mithos."

"Is that just for quilting or is it just for other stuff?"

"It's for more than just quilting, Mithos."

"Could you embroider stuff with it too?"

Martel paused.

"I could, but what would you want me to embroider on it? Your face on the back?" She asked sardonically. Mithos paused and then turned back at her, beaming.

"Would you really do that?" He asked hopefully, grinning from ear to ear. "That'd be so absolutely-"

"Mithos-" Martel pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know you don't mean to be, but you're being very distracting. I need to fix this because I'm sure he'll want it back when he wakes up and I can't give it to him with a gigantic hole in it. Now, why don't you find something to do to keep yourself busy."

Mithos blinked and then rubbed the back of his head.

"Oh, sorry Martel. I didn't mean to be distracting." He looked remorseful. Martel smiled and patted his head.

"I know you didn't, but why don't you go get some firewood? We're running low." She pointed towards the outside. Reaching to her pack, she pulled out an old and ratty looking cape and handed it to him. Mithos took it gratefully, fished out his shoe from the toasting spot he'd gotten and slipped it on. The warmth felt good and comfortable on his foot and he was almost happy that he'd fallen into the puddle. Though, his pant leg was still soaked, so that took away from the happy feeling. Strapping the cloak around his neck, he jumped to the edge of the cave where the mule was and looked back at her.

"So, you'll get back to me on the embroidery thing." He called. Martel laughed and pointed.

"Go, you silly thing." She smiled. Mithos grinned, turned and trotted out the cave to find firewood.

Collecting her things, Martel strolled to the front of the cave, and got into the cart that the mule was hitched up to. Since the mule had been fed earlier that morning, it had fallen asleep while standing and she hadn't had the heart to move it. So, the cart had been in the rain, while the mule had not.

Once she had situated herself inside the cart, she scooted up to the back of it where she was dry, but could still see out into the forest. She then took out the shirt and continued to patch it, watching for Mithos as she did.

........

About an hour after Martel had moved into the cart, a rustling sound came from inside the cavern. It was faint, but a distinctive sound echoed through the latter part of the cave, one that would not have reached her ears from all the way at the front of the cave.

From the far corner of the room, the cape around the round eared gentleman moved ever so slightly, as did the man underneath. His breathing became less of a steady low cadence that most would find with sleep, and more like a person who had been awake for several hours. His arms moved just a little, though not much, and especially not much in the way of movement in his left arm. It was bandaged too much to actually be very mobile.

The swordman's still eyelids squinted a little and slowly opened. His eyelids grew heavy, but he blinked them again a few times and gently shook his head, as if was ridding himself of the forced sleep he'd been sent through. His vision was blurry and all he could see was a large sheet of grey from around and above the room. As he laid there, trying to figure out what had happened and where he was, a droplet of ice water fell from the ceiling and attacked his left cheek. Letting out a small inaudible groan, the round eared man gingerly sat up from where he had been. However, the moment he sat up, a throbbing pain from his shoulder blade erupted and the man winced in pain. He looked back over at his shoulder, expecting to see a knife, but stared at the lack of nothing that awaited his gaze. Frowning, he then looked down at himself and paused.

A good portion of the area around his torso had been covered with bandages, a lot of bandages. His shoulders, forearms, left upper arm and wrist were also covered and from the slight tinge of alcohol in the air, he could tell that there'd also been disinfectant. Raising an eyebrow, the swordsman looked at the area around him and his other eyebrow slowly joined the first.

Slowly, the man took the cape off himself and sat up a bit more so he could see fully what situation he'd gotten into, though not too far, because the wound on his back would have protested vociferously. Noting the camp like setting, he figured there had to be someone else besides himself there, because he did not remember setting one up. Though, he didn't remember getting rid of his shirt or even coming there in the first place, so the notion didn't help him much.

However, a fact that weighed as much as the Kharlan tree came hurtling into his mind and hit him like a ton of bricks. As he sat there, shirtless, confused and his head pounding, he realized that he didn't have his sword.

"... where's my sword?" He frowned, looking around where he had been laying. It wasn't there. He frowned some more, his eyes dilating, and he quickly scanned the area all around the room for any sign of it.

"....." He glared at the darkness, save the small fire, and shook his head in frustration. As he did, a spark of the fire fell onto the wet ground and emanated part of the room that had been darkened before. His eyes flashed towards where the spark had landed, and a glint of steel shimmered briefly before it dulled again.

"....." The round eared swordsman's eyes lingered on that spot, though it was hard to tell because his red hair still covered close to half of his face. Gathering up some strength, he gingerly got up and walked over to where the glint had been.

Sure enough, his sword rested gently against the wall of the cavern, water dripping from the hilt and down the rest of the sheathe. Sighing a little, he picked it up, wiped off the hilt with his bandaged arm and returned it to its rightful place at his hip.

"Hey, you're awake!"

The man froze, then turned around and instinctively drew the sword. He then pointed it at the owner of the voice that had startled him.

"Whoa!" Mithos stared at the tip of the sword that was pointed at his nose, dropping the firewood on the ground in the process. The half elf looked down briefly at his fallen wood pile and then his eyes shot back to the steel in front of his face. His eyes crossed as he watched the sword carefully, not really sure how to react.

"......" The swordsman didn't say anything.

".. uh... hi." Mithos said as he continued to stare at the blade. The swordsman, who kept the sword aloft, watched the wood wielding boy and paused.

".... who are you, where is this and ... where is my shirt?" He said in a deep voice. Mithos blinked and looked around.

"Uh.. I'm Mithos, this is a cave, and your shirt's over there." He pointed to the cart. The swordsman looked up at the cart, raised an eyebrow and lowered his sword.

".. I see." He replied. He replaced the sword back in it's sheathe and looked at Mithos, who was still staring at the sword. "I'm sorry to have startled you."

"Startled... isn't the word for it." He replied, his eyes still on the sword. The swordsman looked at his surroundings and frowned.

"How did I come to be here?" He asked Mithos after a while.

"We brought you here when you were unconscious." He replied, picking the wood back up piece by piece. The swordsman raised an eyebrow.

"Unconscious?"

Mithos nodded and dusted himself off as he put the wood down.

"Yeah, you got hit in the back when you were fighting those bandit guys and it was spiked with knockout serum." He added. "Got you with a knife in the back." He brushed his blonde hair out of his face. "But you're okay now. We fixed you up and all." He beamed at him.

At that point, memories of the previous night came flooding back into his mind and he remembered what had happened. The incident with the bandits and the half elves' rescue brought itself to light and he nodded slightly.

"I see." He replied and glanced around the cave. "Then you would be one of the half elves from before, then."

Mithos nodded and moved a piece of firewood.

"Yep, that's me." He replied cheerily, his hair still wet from the outside downpour. The swordsman glanced back at him.

"I believe I recall there were two of you." he commented. "Where is the second? A young woman with long hair."

"Oh, you mean Sis?" Mithos looked around and paused. "She should be around here.... Martel?"

Mithos scanned his eyes around the cavern and then looked over in the cart. Trotting over to the cart, he looked into it and waved for the swordsman to come over.

"She's in here!" He called. "Come and see!" Raising an eyebrow the swordsman did so and looked in the cart.

Martel was fast asleep in the cart, having slumped over from where she had been working. The shirt laid out in her grasp, freshly mended and ready for wear, but she was half laying on it, so it wasn't really ready for wear after at all.

Mithos blinked and looked at the swordsman sheepishly.

"Uh.. eheh.. Martel... Martel, wake up!" Mithos called. Martel didn't move. The swordsman sighed and shook his head once.

"Do not concern yourself with that. There is no need to disturb her." He said briefly before he walked back over to the other side of the room and picked up his cape. Mithos didn't look too convinced.

"Urm.. okay." He groaned and then trotted after the swordsman. He continued walking after him, but stopped about three feet away. There he stood and he waited for the man to say something... anything.

The swordsman let out a slow exhale and folded his arms. Mithos watched and wondered if he should do the same thing.

'That's a good plan.' He decided and, letting out a slow exhale, folded his arms just like the round eared gentleman had done. Hearing the small breath, the older man looked over his shoulder at Mithos and raised an eyebrow. Mithos looked up at him and grinned.

Eyebrow still raised, the round eared man closed his eyes and began to think. His arms folded, he stayed like that for quite a while. During that time, Mithos inched his way closer.. and closer.

Opening an eye, the swordsman looked over at the boy, though he now was about ten inches away.

"Is there something you wish to ask?" He asked. Mithos beamed and nodded.

"Yeah. You have a name right?" He asked. "What is it?"

The swordsman was silent for a moment and then opened the other eye.

"Kratos." He replied simply. Mithos' eyes widened and he grinned broadly.

"It's nice to meet you, Kratos." He beamed. He glanced at the bandages and then at Kratos' face again.

"So, how're you feeling? Better?" He asked. "Martel did a pretty thorough job patching you up and stuff. I told her she shouldn't use that much bandages, but it looks pretty good anyway. At least you aren't bleeding anymore."

Kratos looked at Mithos and raised an eyebrow. Mithos picked up another piece of wood.

"Yep, that blade didn't want to come out, but we pulled, or I held you down and she pulled it out and there was green stuff on it. At first I thought it was blood, but it turns out that it was this weird knock out stuff that the trader put on it to knock you out. That's why you fell into the dirt." He replied cheerfully. Kratos watched Mithos silently, not really sure how and if he should react.

"But you were so great when you were fighting back there! It was so amazing. I couldn't stop watching everything you did. I've never seen anything like it before." He added as he continued placing the wood in a pile.

"That was so cool, plus you were so agile. It was like you weren't even trying." Mithos looked back at Kratos and swayed back and forth. Kratos looked pensive for a minute and then a small smirk lingered on the corners of his face.

"I see." He replied. "Then I take it you witnessed the whole endeavor." He commented. Mithos grinned as he stacked some more firewood and nodded.

"I didn't miss a minute. I couldn't look away." He beamed, still swaying.

As he listed from side to side, the blonde half elf heard a small rustle of fabric and supplies coming from the cart. Turning on his heels, he gazed at the cart and grinned toothily at Kratos.

"Oh, Martel's awake. Come on." Mithos bounded over to the cart and dove in. Once inside the cart, he scurried over to Martel, who was sitting up and rubbing her eyes with her left hand.

"Martel, Martel, guess what?" He exclaimed happily. "The round eared swordsman woke up! He did, and he's got a name and everything." Martel smiled tiredly at Mithos and brushed her hair out of her face.

"That's good that he has a name. And do you know what his name is?" She asked, folding up the shirt she'd mended. Mithos sat back on his heels.

"Yeah, his name is Kratos and he's really amazing. He's got a deep voice and he doesn't say a whole lot, but he gets the point across when he does." He reported happily. "He's out in the cave and you need to meet him too." He pointed out of the cart to where Kratos was standing.

Kratos wasn't looking at the cart anymore, rather he was inspecting the inside of the caves. Even though it was too hard to see, he still looked down at them, as if expecting to see something come running out.

Scooting so she could see, Martel peered out of the cart and looked at Kratos. She watched him for a good moment or three and then carefully got out of the cart. Mithos wasn't so careful, and dove out of the cart in a mad dash back to where Kratos was standing.

"Kratos, Kratos, come meet Martel!" He called happily. Kratos looked over his shoulder at Mithos, nodded and then turned to see Martel coming towards him. He watched her for a while as she drew nearer and Mithos ran out to meet her halfway. When Mithos got to her, he snatched her hand and led her over to Kratos as fast as he could avoid all the puddles that littered the floor.

"Sis, this is Kratos. Kratos, this is my sister Martel." Mithos beamed at her and then at him. Kratos bowed in greeting and Martel did the same.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Martel." He greeted politely. "Thank you for your aid. I am in your debt."

Martel shook her head, Mithos beaming at him all the while.

"No, not at all. I didn't do much, really. But thank you very much for coming to our rescue. We owe you a great amount for saving us." She replied, smiling warmly as she did. Kratos shook his head, his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"It was nothing. Think nothing of it." He replied. Kratos was silent for another moment, though it was pretty obvious to Mithos that he normally was. Martel stayed silent as well and looked out to where he'd been looking.

"And If there's anything we can do for you, name it and we'll do our best." Martel offered as she gazed into the cave.

"Thank you, but it was really nothing." Kratos replied. He closed his eyes, looking pensive and remained that way for a few minutes, before he broke the silence that filled the cave.

"However, I do have a few questions for you, if you don't mind." He said finally. Martel blinked, breaking out of her staring trance of the cave and looked up at Kratos, who was a good foot taller than she was.

"What? Oh, no, we don't mind." Martel replied. "Do we Mithos?"

"Nope, I've got some questions too." Mithos added happily. Kratos nodded to both of them.

"Good." He said. "Now, why were the pair of you captured? What circumstances led that to happen?"

Martel looked sad and let out a breath as her shoulders drooped.

"The Chieftain died in a fire last night. After that, the Vice Chieftain ordered us out and had the half elf traders lead us out into the forest."

His mahogany eyes flashing, Kratos locked eyes with Martel.

"The Chieftain is dead?" He repeated. "... I see. That's a shame. He was a good man."

"He was." Martel agreed. "He was the only reason we were allowed to stay in Heimdall." Mithos looked over at Martel, and his jaw dropped.

"What? The Chieftain was-"

"Yes, Mithos." Martel nodded. "He was the only thing standing between us and being thrown out of Heimdall a very long time ago."

Mithos frowned and balled his hands into fists.

"That's... that's.... unforgivable.... just horrible.." He said, his voice taut with anger. Kratos glanced briefly at Mithos and then at Martel again, his arms folded.

"And that is why you were being led out of the Ymir Forest." He concluded. "Do you have any idea as to where your destination was?"

"No, we didn't hear. Only that we were being ousted. I did not hear exactly where the traders had planned to take us." She replied.

"Yeah, but we didn't get that far, 'cause you rescued us." Mithos interjected. Martel nodded.

"That is true." She agreed. "Thank you once again." Kratos shook his head and looked at the cave entrance.

"It seems as though the rain is beginning to clear up." He commented. Martel looked, as did Mithos, and smiled as she saw the rain disappear.

"That's wonderful." She smiled and looked back at Kratos, who was also looking at the weather. As she looked, her hands squeezed the shirt that she still held. Pausing, she looked down at it and froze.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You probably want your shirt back now." She said, handing it to him. "There was a hole in it, so I patched it for you, so it should be fine now." Kratos took the shirt from her and bowed again slightly.

"Thank you for doing so." He nodded. "I appreciate it." Martel smiled at him and then began to pack up the camp that she'd created. As she did, Mithos looked over at Kratos and tilted his head to the side.

"So, what do you doing here anyway? I've never seen a human in Heimdall before or even ever." Mithos said as he picked up some things. Kratos slipped the shirt on and reached for his cloak, which he'd folded and tucked away.

"I was on business." He replied. Mithos looked confused.

"What kind of business?" he asked. Kratos raised an eyebrow as he put the cloak on.

"The business kind." He stated flatly.

"Oh, I gotcha." Mithos nodded. "And you just ran into them on the way out?" Kratos picked up the dagger and began to strap it to his leg.

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose." He replied. Mithos watched him attach it to his leg quietly and stood up.

"So.. are you going to come with us?" He asked hopefully. Kratos paused.

"... pardon?"

"Come with us, you know, leave with us and travel and stuff?" Mithos asked, taking up some things Martel had not managed to stash into her bag and loading them into the wagon. "I mean, you're traveling alone right? Can you come with us?"

Kratos stood up and sighed.

"That would be up to your sister. I do not wish to speak for-"

"SIS!" Mithos called into the cave as loudly as he could, which made Kratos' ears ring. "Can Kratos come with us?"

Martel emerged from the back part of the cavern, having tucked the last bit of things into her bag.

"That would be up to him, but I don't have any reason to object." She replied happily. "It would be very nice indeed."

Kratos, who hadn't really been expecting that as an answer, looked out at the entrance to the cave. He then began to think, though it was rather difficult to keep his thoughts together with Mithos practically bouncing up and down in anticipation. He raised an eyebrow at the spirited boy, and then closed his eyes. After a minute, he sighed and opened his eyes.

"To cross the Ymir Forest successfully, one would need to know how to do so, and if not, one would need an escort." He said quietly. "And once out of the forest, bandits lurk about the highways. It wouldn't be safe for two people who could not prevent or fend off attack, especially not for half elves."

"So, you'll do it?" Mithos asked, practically bursting with anticipation. Kratos let out a sigh.

"I suppose, if you would like, I shall accompany you." He replied, his arms folded across his chest.

"That's GREAT!" Mithos beamed and almost did a somersault he was so happy. Bounding over to the cart, he looked out onto the now dry and sunny weather and took in a big breath.

"Come on, come on! Let's go!" he grinned at both of them and started tugging at the mule's reins.

Kratos watched him, raised an eyebrow and looked over at Martel.

"He's very.. energetic." He commented. Martel smiled and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Only when he has a reason to be." She replied cryptically, a small smile playing about her face, as strolled out of the cavern and down the path next to Mithos. Kratos watched the pair of them for a moment, shook his head once as he checked that his sword was firmly secured to his hip and walked down the path behind the cart and the pair of half elf siblings.

.....

Oof, Chapter 5 done. That took a while.

Mithos: Don't you have work to do?

Me: ..... maybe.

Please review and comment!