fic: Before Then
Nov. 1st, 2015 05:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Before Then
Series: FE9/10
Character/pairing: Ike/Soren
Rating: PG
Word count: 1085
Author's note: This was going to be a treat in a certain thing I was participating in, but I couldn't get over by how much it was a part of the series started with The House Where We Grew Up and Endings and Beginnings. It precedes both, however.
Betaed by Amiiti.
Ike had lost count of the hour, even as the clock downstairs shuddered with each ring of its bell. The room resembled a servant's, and likely had been, knowing Soren. He despised unnecessary clutter. He'd even kept his simple, even dour mage's garb over adopting the appearance of a nobleman. That title wasn't without reach for him. From Begnion to Melior, Soren's tactics could earn himself a place in any army.
Ike didn't have the luxury of dressing as he wished. The wool of his cloak scraped at his neck until it left red rashes. He stumbled through dinner, showing himself for the uncultured country mercenary he really was with every misused spoon.
The days and its stumbles had left him weary. A war he could endure, but manners and gossip he couldn't. He leaned against Soren, breathing in the scent of him. Even without words, he was grateful for the nearness. The simplicity of drawing a brush through Soren's thick, dark hair was a reminder of an earlier time. Dappled sunlight and swords practice, when war was things that happened in stories, and to other people.
He pulled Soren's hair into a ponytail. Ike had lost count of the strokes along the way, adrift in the moments between them. Soren's head leaned forward, dipping just slightly in fatigue. Some things Soren hid well, others he didn't.
"How many hours have you been up?" Ike asked.
"It's a mystery," Soren said.
"You're adept at solving mysteries," Ike said. "You tell me."
"Your answer will surely be 'too long,'" Soren replied.
"If you've gained the power to read minds, then no army will stand a chance against you. Though after this, that might already be true," Ike said.
"I'm no foreteller," Soren said.
He started the plaited hair. Even if he always got it a little wrong, they kept up this ritual. Soren would redo his crooked braids, and Ike would remember the feel of thick, dark hair soft against his fingertips. It'd been months since they'd spent this much time together. Soren would slip out after meetings and go off to the library. At first, Ike thought he was merely making use of the rare tomes found there, but Ike had grown proficient at telling when Soren had fallen into a dark mood again.
His face had grown sharper, more drawn. There was a purple shade, like bruises, under his eyes.
"We haven't been seeing much of each other recently," Ike said.
"You're always in meetings with the queen," Soren said bitterly. He cleared his throat, but the hint of his feelings had already been revealed.
"Or attending court. They don't even ask me anything. I'm nothing but a trophy of victory, some symbol," Ike added.
"You've received several marriage proposals already...." Soren said.
"They want to put me on their mantelpiece. None of them would've given me a second glance if I were still just a mercenary," Ike said.
"The rumors say you will be the next king," Soren said uncertainly.
"You should know better than to listen to such things," Ike said.
Soren didn't respond for a long while. When he did, his voice was like a long sigh.
"I suppose this is our lives now. Figure pieces in the crown of the capital."
"It isn't written in stone. I don't want this title, and once things are settled, I'm going back," Ike said.
"You'd leave behind the title as well as the capital...and her?" Soren said.
"In a second. You probably think I'm a fool," Ike said.
"No...brazen, perhaps, but never a fool," Soren said.
"Well, you'd be the only one in the whole group, and most of Begnion that doesn't think that. I guess I should thank you for the vote of confidence," Ike said.
"Always," Soren said. His voice was low, an uncertain whisper.
His head dipped again. Ike rested his hand on Soren's shoulder. "No studying until dawn. Now that's an order from your commander."
"Understood," Soren said.
"I'm staying a while," Ike said. He undid his cloak and draped it over a chair. The desk must have been moved into the small room at some point. It was out of place beside the small bed with a dull woolen blanket over the softer ones. An intricate sunburst was carved into the front of the desk.
Soren tensed. A distance had sprung up between them in this time of growth. Back when they were children, only two years ago, they'd resting together curled up under the tree roots, with Soren's shoulder against his shoulder.
"I don't have to stay all night, just until you fall asleep. You haven't been sleeping well. The night terrors are back, aren't they?" Ike said.
"No, it was...nothing important," Soren said.
"It's important enough to be keeping you up at night," Ike said.
Soren blew out the candle. He'd already long ago changed from his robes to a dark sleeping shift. Ike undid the laces of his boots. It wouldn't be the first time he'd bedded down in full armor. War and the loss of his father had taught him many things, and with each one, his childhood became even more of a distant dream.
Peace, too, was a far off memory.
Soren pulled the thick blanket up to his chin, and curled up as small as he could, with his knees to his chest. Even with herbal teas and so many other potions and medicines, Soren slept intermittently, if at all.
"Time is inevitable. I thought you....would certainly become king. No other person would turn down that chance. No one except you," Soren said.
"The only place I'm going to back to is the fort, and you'll be right there by my side," Ike said.
Ike lay on top of the covers, a temporary easing. He could hear the sharp draw of breath, and rustle of covers as Soren shifted again. He rested his hand over Soren's and squeezed tight.
"Stay a little longer?" Soren said. His voice was so quiet, with a raw undertone of vulnerability.
"I will," Ike said.
Ike sat up and undid his armor. There would be far less chance of an assassin’s blade here.
They couldn't return to that space of childhood, but they could go back home together and rebuild. He would find something like comfort hidden under the roots of those trees, sleeping against Soren once again.
Series: FE9/10
Character/pairing: Ike/Soren
Rating: PG
Word count: 1085
Author's note: This was going to be a treat in a certain thing I was participating in, but I couldn't get over by how much it was a part of the series started with The House Where We Grew Up and Endings and Beginnings. It precedes both, however.
Betaed by Amiiti.
Ike had lost count of the hour, even as the clock downstairs shuddered with each ring of its bell. The room resembled a servant's, and likely had been, knowing Soren. He despised unnecessary clutter. He'd even kept his simple, even dour mage's garb over adopting the appearance of a nobleman. That title wasn't without reach for him. From Begnion to Melior, Soren's tactics could earn himself a place in any army.
Ike didn't have the luxury of dressing as he wished. The wool of his cloak scraped at his neck until it left red rashes. He stumbled through dinner, showing himself for the uncultured country mercenary he really was with every misused spoon.
The days and its stumbles had left him weary. A war he could endure, but manners and gossip he couldn't. He leaned against Soren, breathing in the scent of him. Even without words, he was grateful for the nearness. The simplicity of drawing a brush through Soren's thick, dark hair was a reminder of an earlier time. Dappled sunlight and swords practice, when war was things that happened in stories, and to other people.
He pulled Soren's hair into a ponytail. Ike had lost count of the strokes along the way, adrift in the moments between them. Soren's head leaned forward, dipping just slightly in fatigue. Some things Soren hid well, others he didn't.
"How many hours have you been up?" Ike asked.
"It's a mystery," Soren said.
"You're adept at solving mysteries," Ike said. "You tell me."
"Your answer will surely be 'too long,'" Soren replied.
"If you've gained the power to read minds, then no army will stand a chance against you. Though after this, that might already be true," Ike said.
"I'm no foreteller," Soren said.
He started the plaited hair. Even if he always got it a little wrong, they kept up this ritual. Soren would redo his crooked braids, and Ike would remember the feel of thick, dark hair soft against his fingertips. It'd been months since they'd spent this much time together. Soren would slip out after meetings and go off to the library. At first, Ike thought he was merely making use of the rare tomes found there, but Ike had grown proficient at telling when Soren had fallen into a dark mood again.
His face had grown sharper, more drawn. There was a purple shade, like bruises, under his eyes.
"We haven't been seeing much of each other recently," Ike said.
"You're always in meetings with the queen," Soren said bitterly. He cleared his throat, but the hint of his feelings had already been revealed.
"Or attending court. They don't even ask me anything. I'm nothing but a trophy of victory, some symbol," Ike added.
"You've received several marriage proposals already...." Soren said.
"They want to put me on their mantelpiece. None of them would've given me a second glance if I were still just a mercenary," Ike said.
"The rumors say you will be the next king," Soren said uncertainly.
"You should know better than to listen to such things," Ike said.
Soren didn't respond for a long while. When he did, his voice was like a long sigh.
"I suppose this is our lives now. Figure pieces in the crown of the capital."
"It isn't written in stone. I don't want this title, and once things are settled, I'm going back," Ike said.
"You'd leave behind the title as well as the capital...and her?" Soren said.
"In a second. You probably think I'm a fool," Ike said.
"No...brazen, perhaps, but never a fool," Soren said.
"Well, you'd be the only one in the whole group, and most of Begnion that doesn't think that. I guess I should thank you for the vote of confidence," Ike said.
"Always," Soren said. His voice was low, an uncertain whisper.
His head dipped again. Ike rested his hand on Soren's shoulder. "No studying until dawn. Now that's an order from your commander."
"Understood," Soren said.
"I'm staying a while," Ike said. He undid his cloak and draped it over a chair. The desk must have been moved into the small room at some point. It was out of place beside the small bed with a dull woolen blanket over the softer ones. An intricate sunburst was carved into the front of the desk.
Soren tensed. A distance had sprung up between them in this time of growth. Back when they were children, only two years ago, they'd resting together curled up under the tree roots, with Soren's shoulder against his shoulder.
"I don't have to stay all night, just until you fall asleep. You haven't been sleeping well. The night terrors are back, aren't they?" Ike said.
"No, it was...nothing important," Soren said.
"It's important enough to be keeping you up at night," Ike said.
Soren blew out the candle. He'd already long ago changed from his robes to a dark sleeping shift. Ike undid the laces of his boots. It wouldn't be the first time he'd bedded down in full armor. War and the loss of his father had taught him many things, and with each one, his childhood became even more of a distant dream.
Peace, too, was a far off memory.
Soren pulled the thick blanket up to his chin, and curled up as small as he could, with his knees to his chest. Even with herbal teas and so many other potions and medicines, Soren slept intermittently, if at all.
"Time is inevitable. I thought you....would certainly become king. No other person would turn down that chance. No one except you," Soren said.
"The only place I'm going to back to is the fort, and you'll be right there by my side," Ike said.
Ike lay on top of the covers, a temporary easing. He could hear the sharp draw of breath, and rustle of covers as Soren shifted again. He rested his hand over Soren's and squeezed tight.
"Stay a little longer?" Soren said. His voice was so quiet, with a raw undertone of vulnerability.
"I will," Ike said.
Ike sat up and undid his armor. There would be far less chance of an assassin’s blade here.
They couldn't return to that space of childhood, but they could go back home together and rebuild. He would find something like comfort hidden under the roots of those trees, sleeping against Soren once again.
