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Entry tags:
- fe9/10,
- feh,
- fic,
- fire emblem,
- ike/soren
fic: Harvests
Title: Harvests
Series: Fire Emblem Heroes/Tellius
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren, Almedha, Rajaion/Ena
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3,876
Summary: While attending the Harvest festival with Ike, Soren reunites with the woman who claims to be the mother he lost.
Author's note: major spoilers all the way to the end of FE:9/10.
Happy birthday, Chibistarlyte. Sorry it's late; Minikitty was wreaking havoc on the desk and I had to wait for her to calm down before I could edit.
It was rather common to cross paths with someone in a ridiculous costume in Askr. It seemed nearly every day he did so, with people running around the halls in bunny ears, swimsuits, or worse.
So, Soren wasn't entirely surprised to pass someone he knew, wearing some sort of costume he didn't quite understand, except that he surmised it must be from the Harvest festival.
Kurthnaga, the prince of Goldoa. He nodded curtly and began to pass by.
"Wait...It's you. The one Almedha has been looking for."
"You must be mistaken," Soren said.
"No, I'm sure of it. You're the one he said is her long-lost son."
Soren stilled for a moment. He looked warily back.
His first thought was some sort of con, a scam, as were many of Soren's suspicions. But, he remembered Prince Kurthnaga from the war.
Kurthnaga had seemed kind, even naive and innocent. Not the sort to make schemes at all. Even more, he could not fathom what reasoning he would have to speak to Soren like this. Kurthnaga was not one for pranks or tricks.
Laguz blood was in Soren's veins, too. He'd never known if it was from his mother or father's side. Since both had abandoned him, it hardly mattered, now did it? He was little more than refuse to them. No need to look back to a family that didn't want him. It had been difficult enough to live, survive the starvation and how many had turned against him. And then to realize that he had been a branded, one decried by both laguz and beorc and considered a beast, an abomination, forbidden--it had made him draw away from even Ike.
Ike had accepted him, and Soren didn't need the rest of the world. Didn't need parents who cast him aside, or the laguz who had shunned him, the villagers who had driven him out with sticks and rocks and hurled words.
To think that this assumption was wrong, and there'd been someone out there who had loved him...it was truly hard to believe. Soren was suspicious of any kindness that didn't come from Ike's hand.
"That's impossible," Soren said.
"Now, if you will excuse me, I must be going. I cannot take anymore wasted time," Soren said.
He walked down the halls of the castle of Askr and did not look back.
*
"You seem troubled, Soren. What is it?"
Soren paused for a moment before speaking. He hid nothing from Ike any longer. Not even the unpleasant things. Many years ago, he'd tried to hide his bloodline from Ike. But, in the end it had torn him up so much, that he could hardly focus. A very dangerous thing in war.
Ike had comforted him, made him admit the truth--and through it all, accepted him when no one else would. When the entire world, laguz and beorc had left him to die, Ike had always been there for him.
"Someone approached me and claimed he knew my mother, and she had been searching for me."
"If you thought they were lying, you wouldn't be this upset. You would've reprimanded them and never spoken of it again," Ike said.
"It was Prince Kurthnaga, do you remember him?"
"Of course," Ike said.
"He is a dragon laguz. With how isolated dragons are, there are surely few branded among them. Yet--if what he says is true, then perhaps..."
Soren shook his head.
"It's pointless, truly. It would not change anything. If my mother truly cared about me, then she would've found me long ago. Whatever Prince Kuthnaga says, she was surely complicit."
"I had been cast aside almost from birth. I never knew my parents. Only that they did not want me. Even now...I'm not sure what I would expect from this. The past cannot be mended so easily. And surely it would only be unsatisfactory for both of us. Simply a waste of time. ...Whatever son she dreamed of, it wasn't me," Soren said.
"Do what you feel is best. But, seeing her might give you closure," Ike said.
"Closure..." Soren echoed.
He'd gotten that when Ike remembered him after so many years. He didn't need more, let alone from a mother who had tossed him aside.
*
Soren crossed the courtyard. He had a tome in his arms, and meant only to get to the library the quickest way possible. Often other heroes from Askr would clog up the hallways with their senseless, idle chatter. At least with the wide open spaces.
He saw a woman at the fountain whom he recognized as Pelleas's mother.
She wore a dark black dress of mourning, and a veil over the top of her face. She looked much like Kurthnaga and Rajaion. It was unmistakable that she was their kin.
And in truth, she resembled Soren himself. Her red, critical eyes similar to his. Her hair was pulled under the veil of the corpse bride, but Soren saw it was the same color and texture as his own.
"Wait...Soren. I remember, that is your name."
"You are Pelleas's mother," Soren said.
"No...I thought he was my son. But I was mistaken."
He saw the similarities. Her hair, a deep color, with a shade of deep green in the light. Her deep red eyes; the eyes of an apex predator who feared few.
"I cannot think what you would possibly gain by lying, unless you wished to get close to Ike," Soren said.
"Then General Ike is dear to you?"
"He is who I will stay beside for the rest of my life," Soren said.
"And he treats you well?" There was a sharpness in her voice. Soren's brow furrowed at this. It was almost...protective? He had head this tenor before from Titania, giving a warning when a drunken man came too close to Mist at a festival.
"No one has ever shown me as much kindness and faith in me as Ike. Without him, I would've surely died," Soren said.
"Your life wasn't easy. I am sorry it has taken this long to finally find you. But, seeing you before me, even though I have lost my powers now, I know it. You are the son I lost."
"I am no one's son. I was left to die, and I nearly did. No mother and father claim me as their kin, and I claim no one as my parents. Consider me an orphan, nothing more," Soren said.
He saw her flinch at that. It took quite a bit to make such a large, imposing woman react like that.
"I searched for you," she said. There was sorrow--and desperation in her deep voice. Her deep red eyes held an endless sadness.
"All through Daein. Your father, he cast you away despite my wishes while I was still recovering. How I raged...So much it was a surprise that the very castle walls didn't collapse."
"You want to know what my childhood was like?" Soren said bitterly.
Soren had never told anyone but Ike. Not even Greil knew entirely of it.
But, he told her. Of the hunger, the laguz and humans who had pushed him nearly to starvation, and had thrown rocks at him. Called him a curse. Of the magician who had forced him to learn magic at such a young age.
She rose up and came closer. He looked up, almost wary. Strong arms encircled him. Soren froze. She was a tall and strong woman. Even in her current state, she could've torn someone into pieces if she wished.
Once, she'd been a princess of Goldoa. Then, she became an unsung queen of Daein. Now, she lived the life of mourning. A black gown and veil for the rest of her days for what she had lost.
But, it was not an attack, but an embrace. He was used to only Ike touching him. Few others bothered, or cared. Soren was too prickly for them to ever make an effort to reach out.
He did not relax in her embrace, but he did not push her aside, either. She hugged him, even as he remained stiff and distant.
"You've had a hard life, my son. If I could, I'd tear to pieces every single person who hurt you," Almedha said softly.
"You'll have a long list. Whole cities and countries," Soren said.
He pulled away, with a wary glance to the woman who was said to be his mother.
"Why now? I am a grown man. It seems surely too late."
"I looked for you. Year after year. They brought Pelleas to me and said he was my son, but it was not true. But, the moment I laid eyes upon you, I knew. Even though I had lost much of my senses when I birthed you, I still knew my son."
"I never had a mother, nor do I need one now that I am an adult. I'm far past the point of having my tears dried."
Such hurt filled her face, but she pushed it back.
"...I am not a kind man. Perhaps you have already heard of me. I do not bother with niceties and social graces. Perhaps you should stick to Pelleas if you wish otherwise."
"If you will excuse me, I must be going."
Soren was too shaken to say much else. When he got to the library, he flipped through the pages and could barely read the pages upon the books. Finally, he gave up and went off to join Ike.
"The Harvest festival is soon. Would you come with me? I know you don't care for the noise of festivals--and neither do I. Perhaps the food will make up for it."
"You'll have to come in costume," Ike said.
"Humph. I know," Soren said.
"It's always costumes here. I swear, the people of Askr never miss an opportunity to dress up," Soren said bitterly.
Ike couldn't help but laugh at that.
"Fine, I will go. Even if the costumes are ridiculous."
It was in the back of his mind that she might be there.
*
The day of the harvest festival finally came. Mist was eager to go. Ike went along, perhaps because of the many food stalls. He wasn't particularly interested in the costumes, but went along.
Lately, the festival had many dragons attend. Mist was dressed up in a pumpkin dress, with little black boots with gold buckles on them. She passed out candy to all the passer-bys.
And Kiran had informed him of the new arrivals, many among them dragons from Tellius.
Dressed in dark tunic and pants, was an imposing, yet kind-looking Goldoan. He had long hair tied down his back.
"Have you seen her?" he said to a small boy, dressed in some incomprehensible prince of candy outfit.
"Rajaion..."
The voice was raspy, and full of pain and yes, wonder as she took several steps closer. "Rajaion, is that you? Truly?"
"Ena..."
He brought her close in a tight embrace.
"I cannot believe you have come back to me, after all this time. It must be a dream," Ena said.
"It is no dream, love. I am here in this world of Askr for good, it seems."
Soren turned away. The scene was too intimate, too full of old pain and longing to witness.
*
He went to this festival for Ike, and only Ike. Even then, it was in the back of his mind that he might be reunited with her, the woman who claimed to be his mother.
And because Mist insisted, he dressed differently.
The outfit was ridiculous, as many were. Soren wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be. A dapper gentleman? A small top hat adorned his head, and he had fangs, like a creature. He wore a dark suit, so much that he looked like one of the raven tribe. Ike had fuzzy ears, like he was a wolfskin, and he had made good use of the stalls to have a drumstick in hand.
"Almedha, have you tried the treats?"
"I haven't yet," Almedha said.
"Perhaps it was a mistake to come. I would merely bring everyone down."
"No, I am gladdened to be reunited with you," Kurthnaga said.
The woman who claimed to be his mother had come, too.
She wore a filmy dark dress of the finest silk and lace, a corpse bride's outfit. Flowers adorned her hair in a crown, and a veil was pushed across her face, never to be pushed back. Her mouth, arrayed with lines like stitches, and the glowing, Hel-like pattern of bones on her cheeks, and glowing through her chest then.
Soren, too, rarely partook in festivals unless Ike was there. For he always brought down the mood with his realism, his critical eye. Like mother, like son, it seemed.
And he hadn't had much time for joy in his childhood. Festivals were a reminder of what he'd never had. Bittersweet at best.
He looked at her warily, sizing the woman up again. He should be done with this. His mother was nothing to him. What good would it be to retread the past? Especially on this festival of the harvest--though it seemed more a festival of dragons, these days.
His place was beside Ike. It was mere happenstance that their paths happened to cross.
He didn't long for a mother's love, for he had never felt it, not ever in his life. But as he looked up into eyes as dark red as his own, he felt a tremor of--something. Perhaps Ike had rubbed off on him, worn away the roughness and made him almost care, just a little bit.
He still didn't believe in the goodness of humanity, he was still cold and even crass, as some would stay. But he wasn't cruel. Because of Ike, he wasn't cruel.
Kurthnaga and Ike and Mist went on ahead. Rajaion and Ena were side by side, never to be parted.
And yet again, the woman who claimed to be his mother was here.
"Soren..." Her voice held such sadness.
Soren was not one to comfort. At least, not anyone but Ike.
He wasn't sure of the title to call her. Then again, Soren was never quite reverent of the royalty. They paid taxes for protection, and that was that. Everything else was myth and stories.
"We meet again, my son," she said.
"It is inevitable in this world. I cross paths with many, even those I do not wish to," Soren said.
"It is a strange world, full of many different heroes from many different lands," Almedha said.
"Yes, I have learned much from them," Soren said.
"I asked of you from these heroes. Those I spoke to said you were a scholar, a tactician. That you helped win wars," she said.
It was not entirely embellishment, but if they didn't end it with 'but his personality is so cold' then it was mere flattery.
He wasn't like Pelleas, who had come to Almedha like a lost boy, desperate for a mother. He hadn't longed for a mother's comfort in many, many years. He'd outgrown such a need.
He sensed a deep power in her. A kin, a likeness to him. In the harsh lines of her face, the sharp red of her eyes.
She drank hot cider. The smell was tempting, so he came closer. Just a bit.
She took a seat on the cold bench, flanked by glowing magical pumpkin lanterns.
"Sit beside me, would you?"
Soren considering simply standing. Refusing, and leaving. He'd left many places before. Some of the monks were even kind. But, Soren knew all too well the way that kindness could be a mask, a front. How quickly they could turn upon him.
He sat down. Many revelers were at this party. A small boy as a candy prince. A little girl who he knew was a dragon, though looked little more than a child. She had little horns, and seemed to be some kind of creature. She was with a much larger dragon, who was some kind of ghost. The larger dragon, a woman with long purple hair, and two different shades of eyes followed protectively the smaller dragon.
Idunn and Fae, those were their names.
Floating pumpkins filled with light. Mages had set them up. Canas, Luthier, Delthea, Reinhardt and Olwen had all been on task with decorations. Soren wasn't much for festivities, nor for such sights. He was too used to being scorned at the sides. Happy families together was just more salt in the wound to a starving child. And as a grown man now, he could never quite erase those memories. Huddling at the corner of a festival, like an abandoned dog. Dirty, hunger aching in his chest, and the unending sorrow as he looked from face to face as their joy turned to disgust. As they drove him away from the wonder smells, the happiness.
"I have enough for two," she said.
"Then I shall take it," Soren said.
Soren took a sip of warm cider. It was a cool autumn day, and the sweet drink was soothing.
"I made many mistakes in my life. You were not one of them. Even if I had to lose my powers all over again, I would. But, if I could, I would save you," Almedha said. "I want you to know that."
"I was saved. By Ike," Soren said.
"I owe him a debt of thanks, then," Almedha said. "One day, I must tell him."
"I do not wish to get your hopes up. If you think we will suddenly be a family, you will be mistaken," Soren said.
"Ah, if I could but change the past," she said. "I'd save you every time."
In another world, he could've clung to his mother's hand as she took him to the festival. He could've pleaded for candies, and with a smile, she gladly would've indulged him. In another world, he would've been a loved, even doted upon child who came to a festival so full of wonder and happiness.
He could've been carried home when he was sleepy, tucked in and told stories.
He'd had none of that. And this woman had searched, had mourned, and lived a life full of the loss of him. The tear between them had marked both of their lives in the end.
But, when he looked at her, he saw something haunted in her red eyes that were so like his own. He'd seen the same look before, in the reflection of water as a starving, filthy orphan looked down and cupped the water to drink to try and soothe his hunger pains.
And maybe that knowledge was what kept Soren from turning his back on her entirely. Or maybe it was how Ike had held out his hand, that had somehow led to him being like this. Not quite nice, but occasionally capable of being almost cordial, if it benefited Ike.
He rose up.
"Thank you for the drink," he said stiffly.
"...Perhaps our paths will cross again," Soren said. "We could speak of Goldoa. There is much knowledge to be learned there. You have many years of experience which I should like to learn."
"I would gladly tell you anything you wish to know," Almedha said.
Stiffly, haltingly. The hints of what could've been, and a relationship which was never there. The mother who had mourned her son all her life, and the son who had almost starved away from lack of a caring figure in his life.
"But, how I would tell it would be far different than the rest of Goldoa," she said, her raspy voice wry, even slightly sarcastic.
So that was where he got it, Soren thought. The more he looked to her, the more he saw it. Even through years and great distances, there were far too many similarities to be a mere hoax, or mistake.
Time couldn't change what had happened to them. But, for now, he was in Askr with Ike. If Ike found another world or Outrealm to go, there he would be.
Askr provided a whole host of new opportunities for knowledge--and challenges. Ike was here, most importantly of all. It wouldn't have mattered how many things he could learn if it took him away from Ike's side.
"It seems there is always a festival in this land. What a curious, yet joyful place," Almedha said.
"Yes, I've noticed that. Askr is quite one for merriment," Soren said.
"Will you attend?"
Soren had attended few festivals in his life when he was younger. Eventually, when he reunited with Ike, he would be taken along with the rest. He found he didn't have a taste for them.
Though if Ike wished to go, Soren would put on the silly hat, the bunny ears, or some grotesque monster mask as they wandered through pumpkin lanterns that lit the cobblestone walkways.
"Perhaps. And you?"
"Perhaps," she said.
"I'll be going," Soren said. He walked away, and did not look back to the past he could've had, had circumstances been different, though he was tempted to.
*
Ike had a bit of fried food on a stick that he'd bought from one of the many Annas from other worlds who set up stalls and shops here.
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Yes. You," Soren said.
"Need some?"
"No, I am fine," Soren said.
Soren looked out at the festival. He couldn't see any of the dragons from their homeland any longer. Perhaps it was for the best.
"Something's bothering you."
"No, I'm just...thinking. I dreamed of having parents at times. When I was very young. I outgrew it, the way some outgrow fairy tales. To have a loving mother...that was about as real as a myth."
"You spoke to her, then?"
"Yes, a little. It...solved nothing in the end. I suppose I knew it wouldn't. Some wounds are too big to ever be healed."
"Still... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to speak to her at times. She is a powerful woman. It would not do to make enemies of her. I could learn something from her. ...And, in the end, I wouldn't wish to see her full of sorrow."
"You're a softie at heart," Ike said.
Soren snorted. "I may be sharp-tongued, but I'm not endlessly cruel. She's had a hard life. And she could rip off someone's head effortlessly with that strength. No need to make her suffer more, or turn her into my foe."
He couldn't fathom she would find any sort of solace having a son such as him. Quiet and cold and callous, hardly the ideal progeny.
Pumpkin lanterns were lit across the walkway. They walked down the glowing path.
"Are you glad we traveled to Askr together?"
"As long as I'm beside you, it matters not where we go."
It could be the path to Hel, and he would still follow Ike.
Series: Fire Emblem Heroes/Tellius
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren, Almedha, Rajaion/Ena
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3,876
Summary: While attending the Harvest festival with Ike, Soren reunites with the woman who claims to be the mother he lost.
Author's note: major spoilers all the way to the end of FE:9/10.
Happy birthday, Chibistarlyte. Sorry it's late; Minikitty was wreaking havoc on the desk and I had to wait for her to calm down before I could edit.
It was rather common to cross paths with someone in a ridiculous costume in Askr. It seemed nearly every day he did so, with people running around the halls in bunny ears, swimsuits, or worse.
So, Soren wasn't entirely surprised to pass someone he knew, wearing some sort of costume he didn't quite understand, except that he surmised it must be from the Harvest festival.
Kurthnaga, the prince of Goldoa. He nodded curtly and began to pass by.
"Wait...It's you. The one Almedha has been looking for."
"You must be mistaken," Soren said.
"No, I'm sure of it. You're the one he said is her long-lost son."
Soren stilled for a moment. He looked warily back.
His first thought was some sort of con, a scam, as were many of Soren's suspicions. But, he remembered Prince Kurthnaga from the war.
Kurthnaga had seemed kind, even naive and innocent. Not the sort to make schemes at all. Even more, he could not fathom what reasoning he would have to speak to Soren like this. Kurthnaga was not one for pranks or tricks.
Laguz blood was in Soren's veins, too. He'd never known if it was from his mother or father's side. Since both had abandoned him, it hardly mattered, now did it? He was little more than refuse to them. No need to look back to a family that didn't want him. It had been difficult enough to live, survive the starvation and how many had turned against him. And then to realize that he had been a branded, one decried by both laguz and beorc and considered a beast, an abomination, forbidden--it had made him draw away from even Ike.
Ike had accepted him, and Soren didn't need the rest of the world. Didn't need parents who cast him aside, or the laguz who had shunned him, the villagers who had driven him out with sticks and rocks and hurled words.
To think that this assumption was wrong, and there'd been someone out there who had loved him...it was truly hard to believe. Soren was suspicious of any kindness that didn't come from Ike's hand.
"That's impossible," Soren said.
"Now, if you will excuse me, I must be going. I cannot take anymore wasted time," Soren said.
He walked down the halls of the castle of Askr and did not look back.
*
"You seem troubled, Soren. What is it?"
Soren paused for a moment before speaking. He hid nothing from Ike any longer. Not even the unpleasant things. Many years ago, he'd tried to hide his bloodline from Ike. But, in the end it had torn him up so much, that he could hardly focus. A very dangerous thing in war.
Ike had comforted him, made him admit the truth--and through it all, accepted him when no one else would. When the entire world, laguz and beorc had left him to die, Ike had always been there for him.
"Someone approached me and claimed he knew my mother, and she had been searching for me."
"If you thought they were lying, you wouldn't be this upset. You would've reprimanded them and never spoken of it again," Ike said.
"It was Prince Kurthnaga, do you remember him?"
"Of course," Ike said.
"He is a dragon laguz. With how isolated dragons are, there are surely few branded among them. Yet--if what he says is true, then perhaps..."
Soren shook his head.
"It's pointless, truly. It would not change anything. If my mother truly cared about me, then she would've found me long ago. Whatever Prince Kuthnaga says, she was surely complicit."
"I had been cast aside almost from birth. I never knew my parents. Only that they did not want me. Even now...I'm not sure what I would expect from this. The past cannot be mended so easily. And surely it would only be unsatisfactory for both of us. Simply a waste of time. ...Whatever son she dreamed of, it wasn't me," Soren said.
"Do what you feel is best. But, seeing her might give you closure," Ike said.
"Closure..." Soren echoed.
He'd gotten that when Ike remembered him after so many years. He didn't need more, let alone from a mother who had tossed him aside.
*
Soren crossed the courtyard. He had a tome in his arms, and meant only to get to the library the quickest way possible. Often other heroes from Askr would clog up the hallways with their senseless, idle chatter. At least with the wide open spaces.
He saw a woman at the fountain whom he recognized as Pelleas's mother.
She wore a dark black dress of mourning, and a veil over the top of her face. She looked much like Kurthnaga and Rajaion. It was unmistakable that she was their kin.
And in truth, she resembled Soren himself. Her red, critical eyes similar to his. Her hair was pulled under the veil of the corpse bride, but Soren saw it was the same color and texture as his own.
"Wait...Soren. I remember, that is your name."
"You are Pelleas's mother," Soren said.
"No...I thought he was my son. But I was mistaken."
He saw the similarities. Her hair, a deep color, with a shade of deep green in the light. Her deep red eyes; the eyes of an apex predator who feared few.
"I cannot think what you would possibly gain by lying, unless you wished to get close to Ike," Soren said.
"Then General Ike is dear to you?"
"He is who I will stay beside for the rest of my life," Soren said.
"And he treats you well?" There was a sharpness in her voice. Soren's brow furrowed at this. It was almost...protective? He had head this tenor before from Titania, giving a warning when a drunken man came too close to Mist at a festival.
"No one has ever shown me as much kindness and faith in me as Ike. Without him, I would've surely died," Soren said.
"Your life wasn't easy. I am sorry it has taken this long to finally find you. But, seeing you before me, even though I have lost my powers now, I know it. You are the son I lost."
"I am no one's son. I was left to die, and I nearly did. No mother and father claim me as their kin, and I claim no one as my parents. Consider me an orphan, nothing more," Soren said.
He saw her flinch at that. It took quite a bit to make such a large, imposing woman react like that.
"I searched for you," she said. There was sorrow--and desperation in her deep voice. Her deep red eyes held an endless sadness.
"All through Daein. Your father, he cast you away despite my wishes while I was still recovering. How I raged...So much it was a surprise that the very castle walls didn't collapse."
"You want to know what my childhood was like?" Soren said bitterly.
Soren had never told anyone but Ike. Not even Greil knew entirely of it.
But, he told her. Of the hunger, the laguz and humans who had pushed him nearly to starvation, and had thrown rocks at him. Called him a curse. Of the magician who had forced him to learn magic at such a young age.
She rose up and came closer. He looked up, almost wary. Strong arms encircled him. Soren froze. She was a tall and strong woman. Even in her current state, she could've torn someone into pieces if she wished.
Once, she'd been a princess of Goldoa. Then, she became an unsung queen of Daein. Now, she lived the life of mourning. A black gown and veil for the rest of her days for what she had lost.
But, it was not an attack, but an embrace. He was used to only Ike touching him. Few others bothered, or cared. Soren was too prickly for them to ever make an effort to reach out.
He did not relax in her embrace, but he did not push her aside, either. She hugged him, even as he remained stiff and distant.
"You've had a hard life, my son. If I could, I'd tear to pieces every single person who hurt you," Almedha said softly.
"You'll have a long list. Whole cities and countries," Soren said.
He pulled away, with a wary glance to the woman who was said to be his mother.
"Why now? I am a grown man. It seems surely too late."
"I looked for you. Year after year. They brought Pelleas to me and said he was my son, but it was not true. But, the moment I laid eyes upon you, I knew. Even though I had lost much of my senses when I birthed you, I still knew my son."
"I never had a mother, nor do I need one now that I am an adult. I'm far past the point of having my tears dried."
Such hurt filled her face, but she pushed it back.
"...I am not a kind man. Perhaps you have already heard of me. I do not bother with niceties and social graces. Perhaps you should stick to Pelleas if you wish otherwise."
"If you will excuse me, I must be going."
Soren was too shaken to say much else. When he got to the library, he flipped through the pages and could barely read the pages upon the books. Finally, he gave up and went off to join Ike.
"The Harvest festival is soon. Would you come with me? I know you don't care for the noise of festivals--and neither do I. Perhaps the food will make up for it."
"You'll have to come in costume," Ike said.
"Humph. I know," Soren said.
"It's always costumes here. I swear, the people of Askr never miss an opportunity to dress up," Soren said bitterly.
Ike couldn't help but laugh at that.
"Fine, I will go. Even if the costumes are ridiculous."
It was in the back of his mind that she might be there.
*
The day of the harvest festival finally came. Mist was eager to go. Ike went along, perhaps because of the many food stalls. He wasn't particularly interested in the costumes, but went along.
Lately, the festival had many dragons attend. Mist was dressed up in a pumpkin dress, with little black boots with gold buckles on them. She passed out candy to all the passer-bys.
And Kiran had informed him of the new arrivals, many among them dragons from Tellius.
Dressed in dark tunic and pants, was an imposing, yet kind-looking Goldoan. He had long hair tied down his back.
"Have you seen her?" he said to a small boy, dressed in some incomprehensible prince of candy outfit.
"Rajaion..."
The voice was raspy, and full of pain and yes, wonder as she took several steps closer. "Rajaion, is that you? Truly?"
"Ena..."
He brought her close in a tight embrace.
"I cannot believe you have come back to me, after all this time. It must be a dream," Ena said.
"It is no dream, love. I am here in this world of Askr for good, it seems."
Soren turned away. The scene was too intimate, too full of old pain and longing to witness.
*
He went to this festival for Ike, and only Ike. Even then, it was in the back of his mind that he might be reunited with her, the woman who claimed to be his mother.
And because Mist insisted, he dressed differently.
The outfit was ridiculous, as many were. Soren wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be. A dapper gentleman? A small top hat adorned his head, and he had fangs, like a creature. He wore a dark suit, so much that he looked like one of the raven tribe. Ike had fuzzy ears, like he was a wolfskin, and he had made good use of the stalls to have a drumstick in hand.
"Almedha, have you tried the treats?"
"I haven't yet," Almedha said.
"Perhaps it was a mistake to come. I would merely bring everyone down."
"No, I am gladdened to be reunited with you," Kurthnaga said.
The woman who claimed to be his mother had come, too.
She wore a filmy dark dress of the finest silk and lace, a corpse bride's outfit. Flowers adorned her hair in a crown, and a veil was pushed across her face, never to be pushed back. Her mouth, arrayed with lines like stitches, and the glowing, Hel-like pattern of bones on her cheeks, and glowing through her chest then.
Soren, too, rarely partook in festivals unless Ike was there. For he always brought down the mood with his realism, his critical eye. Like mother, like son, it seemed.
And he hadn't had much time for joy in his childhood. Festivals were a reminder of what he'd never had. Bittersweet at best.
He looked at her warily, sizing the woman up again. He should be done with this. His mother was nothing to him. What good would it be to retread the past? Especially on this festival of the harvest--though it seemed more a festival of dragons, these days.
His place was beside Ike. It was mere happenstance that their paths happened to cross.
He didn't long for a mother's love, for he had never felt it, not ever in his life. But as he looked up into eyes as dark red as his own, he felt a tremor of--something. Perhaps Ike had rubbed off on him, worn away the roughness and made him almost care, just a little bit.
He still didn't believe in the goodness of humanity, he was still cold and even crass, as some would stay. But he wasn't cruel. Because of Ike, he wasn't cruel.
Kurthnaga and Ike and Mist went on ahead. Rajaion and Ena were side by side, never to be parted.
And yet again, the woman who claimed to be his mother was here.
"Soren..." Her voice held such sadness.
Soren was not one to comfort. At least, not anyone but Ike.
He wasn't sure of the title to call her. Then again, Soren was never quite reverent of the royalty. They paid taxes for protection, and that was that. Everything else was myth and stories.
"We meet again, my son," she said.
"It is inevitable in this world. I cross paths with many, even those I do not wish to," Soren said.
"It is a strange world, full of many different heroes from many different lands," Almedha said.
"Yes, I have learned much from them," Soren said.
"I asked of you from these heroes. Those I spoke to said you were a scholar, a tactician. That you helped win wars," she said.
It was not entirely embellishment, but if they didn't end it with 'but his personality is so cold' then it was mere flattery.
He wasn't like Pelleas, who had come to Almedha like a lost boy, desperate for a mother. He hadn't longed for a mother's comfort in many, many years. He'd outgrown such a need.
He sensed a deep power in her. A kin, a likeness to him. In the harsh lines of her face, the sharp red of her eyes.
She drank hot cider. The smell was tempting, so he came closer. Just a bit.
She took a seat on the cold bench, flanked by glowing magical pumpkin lanterns.
"Sit beside me, would you?"
Soren considering simply standing. Refusing, and leaving. He'd left many places before. Some of the monks were even kind. But, Soren knew all too well the way that kindness could be a mask, a front. How quickly they could turn upon him.
He sat down. Many revelers were at this party. A small boy as a candy prince. A little girl who he knew was a dragon, though looked little more than a child. She had little horns, and seemed to be some kind of creature. She was with a much larger dragon, who was some kind of ghost. The larger dragon, a woman with long purple hair, and two different shades of eyes followed protectively the smaller dragon.
Idunn and Fae, those were their names.
Floating pumpkins filled with light. Mages had set them up. Canas, Luthier, Delthea, Reinhardt and Olwen had all been on task with decorations. Soren wasn't much for festivities, nor for such sights. He was too used to being scorned at the sides. Happy families together was just more salt in the wound to a starving child. And as a grown man now, he could never quite erase those memories. Huddling at the corner of a festival, like an abandoned dog. Dirty, hunger aching in his chest, and the unending sorrow as he looked from face to face as their joy turned to disgust. As they drove him away from the wonder smells, the happiness.
"I have enough for two," she said.
"Then I shall take it," Soren said.
Soren took a sip of warm cider. It was a cool autumn day, and the sweet drink was soothing.
"I made many mistakes in my life. You were not one of them. Even if I had to lose my powers all over again, I would. But, if I could, I would save you," Almedha said. "I want you to know that."
"I was saved. By Ike," Soren said.
"I owe him a debt of thanks, then," Almedha said. "One day, I must tell him."
"I do not wish to get your hopes up. If you think we will suddenly be a family, you will be mistaken," Soren said.
"Ah, if I could but change the past," she said. "I'd save you every time."
In another world, he could've clung to his mother's hand as she took him to the festival. He could've pleaded for candies, and with a smile, she gladly would've indulged him. In another world, he would've been a loved, even doted upon child who came to a festival so full of wonder and happiness.
He could've been carried home when he was sleepy, tucked in and told stories.
He'd had none of that. And this woman had searched, had mourned, and lived a life full of the loss of him. The tear between them had marked both of their lives in the end.
But, when he looked at her, he saw something haunted in her red eyes that were so like his own. He'd seen the same look before, in the reflection of water as a starving, filthy orphan looked down and cupped the water to drink to try and soothe his hunger pains.
And maybe that knowledge was what kept Soren from turning his back on her entirely. Or maybe it was how Ike had held out his hand, that had somehow led to him being like this. Not quite nice, but occasionally capable of being almost cordial, if it benefited Ike.
He rose up.
"Thank you for the drink," he said stiffly.
"...Perhaps our paths will cross again," Soren said. "We could speak of Goldoa. There is much knowledge to be learned there. You have many years of experience which I should like to learn."
"I would gladly tell you anything you wish to know," Almedha said.
Stiffly, haltingly. The hints of what could've been, and a relationship which was never there. The mother who had mourned her son all her life, and the son who had almost starved away from lack of a caring figure in his life.
"But, how I would tell it would be far different than the rest of Goldoa," she said, her raspy voice wry, even slightly sarcastic.
So that was where he got it, Soren thought. The more he looked to her, the more he saw it. Even through years and great distances, there were far too many similarities to be a mere hoax, or mistake.
Time couldn't change what had happened to them. But, for now, he was in Askr with Ike. If Ike found another world or Outrealm to go, there he would be.
Askr provided a whole host of new opportunities for knowledge--and challenges. Ike was here, most importantly of all. It wouldn't have mattered how many things he could learn if it took him away from Ike's side.
"It seems there is always a festival in this land. What a curious, yet joyful place," Almedha said.
"Yes, I've noticed that. Askr is quite one for merriment," Soren said.
"Will you attend?"
Soren had attended few festivals in his life when he was younger. Eventually, when he reunited with Ike, he would be taken along with the rest. He found he didn't have a taste for them.
Though if Ike wished to go, Soren would put on the silly hat, the bunny ears, or some grotesque monster mask as they wandered through pumpkin lanterns that lit the cobblestone walkways.
"Perhaps. And you?"
"Perhaps," she said.
"I'll be going," Soren said. He walked away, and did not look back to the past he could've had, had circumstances been different, though he was tempted to.
*
Ike had a bit of fried food on a stick that he'd bought from one of the many Annas from other worlds who set up stalls and shops here.
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Yes. You," Soren said.
"Need some?"
"No, I am fine," Soren said.
Soren looked out at the festival. He couldn't see any of the dragons from their homeland any longer. Perhaps it was for the best.
"Something's bothering you."
"No, I'm just...thinking. I dreamed of having parents at times. When I was very young. I outgrew it, the way some outgrow fairy tales. To have a loving mother...that was about as real as a myth."
"You spoke to her, then?"
"Yes, a little. It...solved nothing in the end. I suppose I knew it wouldn't. Some wounds are too big to ever be healed."
"Still... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to speak to her at times. She is a powerful woman. It would not do to make enemies of her. I could learn something from her. ...And, in the end, I wouldn't wish to see her full of sorrow."
"You're a softie at heart," Ike said.
Soren snorted. "I may be sharp-tongued, but I'm not endlessly cruel. She's had a hard life. And she could rip off someone's head effortlessly with that strength. No need to make her suffer more, or turn her into my foe."
He couldn't fathom she would find any sort of solace having a son such as him. Quiet and cold and callous, hardly the ideal progeny.
Pumpkin lanterns were lit across the walkway. They walked down the glowing path.
"Are you glad we traveled to Askr together?"
"As long as I'm beside you, it matters not where we go."
It could be the path to Hel, and he would still follow Ike.
no subject
^Me at this whole thing.
Please give us this harvest festival, FEH.
Anyway, it's a joy as always to read your tellius fic!