fic: A Reminder
Feb. 21st, 2020 10:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: A Reminder
Series: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1k
Summary: As Ike heads out after a staff report, Soren gives him a little reminder.
Author's note:
Person A is about to leave for work [or insert any other suitable event/place]. Person B asks them if they've forgotten anything, and Person A gives them a kiss. Person B turns red and opens their hand to reveal Person A's keys/wallet/etc., saying ' meant this, but thanks.・
Established relationship, midway in RD.
Ike awaited him in the war tent, lit by the light of a candle. His sheath was laid aside at his boots, and his sword just beside it. Soren gave him a nod of greeting and opened the scroll with one deft gesture.
"I'll start right away."
Soren read each line of the staff report, right down to the loss of weapons (most by Boyd who had neglected to realize his weapon was on the verge of cracking) to the injuries (Boyd, who had been caught in a sneak attack just as his weapon had fallen apart.)
Thankfully, for Ike's sake, and the potential annoyances in tactics that would arise, no one had fallen in battle. Mist had reached Boyd in time, and his injury, though deep, would become yet another scar that he would probably brag about after everything was done.
He listed even the minutiae that Ike trusted him and him alone to keep. Everything from the stores of food, the damages in armor and weapons, to every other detail that most would overlook.
He had interviewed each member of the army to achieve this, though some might call it more of an interrogation, not that Soren cared a whit what they thought of him. This was a feat that would've once been like thorns in his boots. Now, however, he managed it with the sureness that Ike loved him no matter what, and what recruits thought of him meant less than nothing in the face of that.
Soren lifted his eyes from the paper, and caught a faint quirk of a smile on Ike's lips.
"And that's all," Soren said. He rolled up the scroll, and put it within his satchel.
"Right, thank you as always, Soren. You're always so thorough."
"It's nothing. I would do all this and more to help you, Ike."
"No, it's not nothing. If we win this battle, then it's your tactics that will get us there with the least amount of casualties."
"And your leadership, and prowess in battle," Soren said.
Ike gave him a crooked half smile. "I suppose that's teamwork," Ike said.
Before Soren could respond, Ike cleared his throat. "That reminds me, I have to leave early, though. I had some kind of meeting after this--"
"Yes, with the Gallia envoy, about something or other. Probably some foolish idea from Skrimir that will waste all our time. Regardless, I will join you shortly--just as soon as I see this candle snuffed out. Recently, Tormod left a candle burning while he read, and fell asleep with it still alight. He nearly burnt down his tent, and many others down in the process."
"Oh, thanks for always remembering." As Ike headed for the door, Soren cleared is throat. "Ike, wait a moment."
Soren glanced back, to verify that they were truly alone. Then, Soren gave him a gentle smile.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Soren said in a soft way that only Ike heard, and that existed for Ike alone.
"Oh, right," Ike said.
Ike leaned in and cupped Soren's cheeks, and brought their mouths together. No matter how many times Soren had felt Ike this close, he still was left with a certain amazement. The warmth of his lips, the scent of leather armor, oiled from battle, and the way Soren could fit so neatly against Ike's chest.
Ike was his, all his. No one else got to see this side of him.
Soren clung to Ike's collar with a desperate tightness of someone who had spent a life alone and starving.
Somehow, something good had happened in his life. Ike had accepted him, despite his branded blood. The man he had spent most of his life loving loved him back, even if he was cold, and had the blood of laguz within him.
Soren let out a soft moan as Ike pulled away. "Ah..."
Soren's cheeks turned a shade of pink, his hand lingered upon Ike's chest even after the kiss had finished.
"I...I meant your sheath and sword. You removed them before I came to check the straps. One was skewered in battle, and needed to be repaired."
"That too," Ike said. "Thanks for reminding me, Soren. This war must be getting to me if I almost forget my sword and sheath. At least you'll make sure I never forget."
Ike shook his head. "Father would've scolded me for that bit of forgetfulness."
Soren looked to Ike, but it wasn't stark pain in his face, but the faint look of nostalgia.
Despite everything, the wound had begun to heal. Soren never had the words to comfort Ike. He was a cynic, an outcast. Hope wasn't his language. He reached out to touch Ike's arm, his own kind of comfort.
Soren's grip tightened on Ike's sleeve. "I will always remind you, Ike. And I will always be by your side."
"Good. We'll win the war yet." Ike let out a sigh. "I am entirely sick of wars and meetings."
"Agreed," Soren said.
He let go of Ike for only a moment, to extinguish the candle. Moments later, Soren returned to the side of the only person he had ever loved. Even unspoken, there was a comfort to be by Ike's side, more trusted than any other compatriot, loved more than any other. And for Ike, he would traverse seemingly unwinnable wars, or even worse, the boring and infuriating meetings which were as long as wars, and twice as foolish.
Series: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1k
Summary: As Ike heads out after a staff report, Soren gives him a little reminder.
Author's note:
Person A is about to leave for work [or insert any other suitable event/place]. Person B asks them if they've forgotten anything, and Person A gives them a kiss. Person B turns red and opens their hand to reveal Person A's keys/wallet/etc., saying ' meant this, but thanks.・
Established relationship, midway in RD.
Ike awaited him in the war tent, lit by the light of a candle. His sheath was laid aside at his boots, and his sword just beside it. Soren gave him a nod of greeting and opened the scroll with one deft gesture.
"I'll start right away."
Soren read each line of the staff report, right down to the loss of weapons (most by Boyd who had neglected to realize his weapon was on the verge of cracking) to the injuries (Boyd, who had been caught in a sneak attack just as his weapon had fallen apart.)
Thankfully, for Ike's sake, and the potential annoyances in tactics that would arise, no one had fallen in battle. Mist had reached Boyd in time, and his injury, though deep, would become yet another scar that he would probably brag about after everything was done.
He listed even the minutiae that Ike trusted him and him alone to keep. Everything from the stores of food, the damages in armor and weapons, to every other detail that most would overlook.
He had interviewed each member of the army to achieve this, though some might call it more of an interrogation, not that Soren cared a whit what they thought of him. This was a feat that would've once been like thorns in his boots. Now, however, he managed it with the sureness that Ike loved him no matter what, and what recruits thought of him meant less than nothing in the face of that.
Soren lifted his eyes from the paper, and caught a faint quirk of a smile on Ike's lips.
"And that's all," Soren said. He rolled up the scroll, and put it within his satchel.
"Right, thank you as always, Soren. You're always so thorough."
"It's nothing. I would do all this and more to help you, Ike."
"No, it's not nothing. If we win this battle, then it's your tactics that will get us there with the least amount of casualties."
"And your leadership, and prowess in battle," Soren said.
Ike gave him a crooked half smile. "I suppose that's teamwork," Ike said.
Before Soren could respond, Ike cleared his throat. "That reminds me, I have to leave early, though. I had some kind of meeting after this--"
"Yes, with the Gallia envoy, about something or other. Probably some foolish idea from Skrimir that will waste all our time. Regardless, I will join you shortly--just as soon as I see this candle snuffed out. Recently, Tormod left a candle burning while he read, and fell asleep with it still alight. He nearly burnt down his tent, and many others down in the process."
"Oh, thanks for always remembering." As Ike headed for the door, Soren cleared is throat. "Ike, wait a moment."
Soren glanced back, to verify that they were truly alone. Then, Soren gave him a gentle smile.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Soren said in a soft way that only Ike heard, and that existed for Ike alone.
"Oh, right," Ike said.
Ike leaned in and cupped Soren's cheeks, and brought their mouths together. No matter how many times Soren had felt Ike this close, he still was left with a certain amazement. The warmth of his lips, the scent of leather armor, oiled from battle, and the way Soren could fit so neatly against Ike's chest.
Ike was his, all his. No one else got to see this side of him.
Soren clung to Ike's collar with a desperate tightness of someone who had spent a life alone and starving.
Somehow, something good had happened in his life. Ike had accepted him, despite his branded blood. The man he had spent most of his life loving loved him back, even if he was cold, and had the blood of laguz within him.
Soren let out a soft moan as Ike pulled away. "Ah..."
Soren's cheeks turned a shade of pink, his hand lingered upon Ike's chest even after the kiss had finished.
"I...I meant your sheath and sword. You removed them before I came to check the straps. One was skewered in battle, and needed to be repaired."
"That too," Ike said. "Thanks for reminding me, Soren. This war must be getting to me if I almost forget my sword and sheath. At least you'll make sure I never forget."
Ike shook his head. "Father would've scolded me for that bit of forgetfulness."
Soren looked to Ike, but it wasn't stark pain in his face, but the faint look of nostalgia.
Despite everything, the wound had begun to heal. Soren never had the words to comfort Ike. He was a cynic, an outcast. Hope wasn't his language. He reached out to touch Ike's arm, his own kind of comfort.
Soren's grip tightened on Ike's sleeve. "I will always remind you, Ike. And I will always be by your side."
"Good. We'll win the war yet." Ike let out a sigh. "I am entirely sick of wars and meetings."
"Agreed," Soren said.
He let go of Ike for only a moment, to extinguish the candle. Moments later, Soren returned to the side of the only person he had ever loved. Even unspoken, there was a comfort to be by Ike's side, more trusted than any other compatriot, loved more than any other. And for Ike, he would traverse seemingly unwinnable wars, or even worse, the boring and infuriating meetings which were as long as wars, and twice as foolish.
