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There was something to be said that one of Ike’s earliest memories was sitting sandwiched between Titania and his father watching as two men clasped right hands. The location was the mess hall of the fort; the tables shoved along the walls and the benches lined up. These were the days before the Greil Mercenaries as Ike knew them had formed, before Shinon and Gatrie, before Oscar, Boyd, and Rolf, before Rhys, before Soren. Ike did not remember the men well, though he thought he recalled that they worked for his father and left the mercenaries shortly afterwards.
Afterwards, Ike’s father had given the men a pouch of coins and slapped them on the back. The mercenaries had a larger dinner and toasts were made on the ale. Ike managed to convince Titania to let him have a sip of her ale after one such toast and when Ike made a face and spit it out afterwards, Greil laughed.
It was all and all one quiet day in Ike’s childhood from a time where he was still very young. By all accounts, it should not have stayed with him as he was barely even seven and had few memories of his childhood in general. But while Ike glanced over the couples standing outside the church doors in town and could barely stay awake during the weddings his father had dragged him to as an older child, there had been something deeply fascinating to him about the two men marrying.
It wasn’t until he was fourteen and bathing with the other boys made him feel rigid and awkward in more ways than one that he realized that maybe it was because they were men.
It then wasn’t until after the Mad King’s War, when Ike was 18, that he learned that this was unusual outside of the lower class’s circle.
The end of the war seemed to inspire the nobles to marriage (“Well,” Soren had once said under his breath, gazing pointedly at the bride’s stomach, after Ike commented as such. “They’re certainly inspired to do something.”). It seemed that Ike fielded a wedding invitation for every week as everyone wanted the great general to be an honored guest. At first he had accepted the invites and the mercenaries had followed with him but as the number of weddings held steady and everyone became well acquainted with formality of the parties the nobles liked to throw, fewer and fewer of the Greil Mercenaries attended with Ike until he was the last remaining one. This was unfortunate, as they only thing Ike remotely enjoyed doing at these events was convincing Soren to dance with him in a corner, despite their mutual lack of dancing skills making them stomp on each other’s feet until they were sore, and then sitting together to complain about the whole thing and the bizarre world of nobility that Ike had been drafted into in general.
When Ike told Titania this one evening she just smiled and commented on young love. Ike was pretty sure his newfound change in relationship with Soren had nothing to do with it as the two of them had always dealt with their asocial tendencies by ranting at each other about forced socialization.
It was after one of these weddings that Elincia approached Ike. They talked lightly for several minutes and Ike was happy that at least one of his friends was still present at these events as he ate food that was too airy and drank wine that was too weak.
“I’m truly sorry, Lord Ike, that you keep being invited to all of these weddings,” she said. “It must be very difficult for you.”
Ike shrugged with the arm which’s hand was not clutching a pastry. “It’s not so bad,” he said. “A bit dull compared to what I’m used to. But the food’s fancy.” The food was also too light and Ike would much rather be doing something productive with his time right now like helping the rebuilding efforts or training. But Ike would much rather be bored watching nobles barely touch each other than fight another war.
The glum expression on Elincia’s face was briefly interrupted with a smile. “I’ll be sure to inform the chef that you feel that way,” she said. But as quickly as the smile appeared, it disappeared and again Elincia looked worried, holding her hand to her cheek. “I just think it’s sad. I’ve never met a couple more in love than you and Soren, but yet you will never be able to make it official.”
Ike’s brow furrowed. “But our relationship is official,” he said. Shortly after Soren’s confession to Ike regarding his parentage, Ike had had different sort of confession for Soren. A few evenings after that, sitting slightly away from the group immediately surrounding the camp’s fire, Ike had given Soren a Blizzard tome and a kiss and Soren had given Ike plans for the next battle (accounting for every scenario Soren could think of) and the Royal Sword Greil had given Ike, now repaired with magic before he quickly kissed Ike’s cheek. After that, it was well known within Ike’s close circle that the two childhood friends were courting. Even now, although Soren technically had his own room, he slept every night in Ike’s and the two could sometimes be seen holding hands or embracing around the castle. Soren was more nervous about these things than Ike, Ike felt that they had nothing to hide.
“No, Lord Ike,” Elincia said. “I meant that I feel badly you cannot marry because you’re both men.”
“But men can marry,” Ike said. “When I was a child I witnessed a wedding between two men.”
Elincia looked shocked. “Really?” she asked. “But I’ve always heard that the Goddess looks down on such relationships. Not that I think she does myself, but that’s what they say.”
Ike was silent. “Well,” he said at last. “We do many things differently out in the borderlands.” Elincia hummed in response.
When Ike returned to his room that night, he found Soren lying in bed, asleep with his robes still on, his hair still tied up, and a tome still clutched in a hand that had fallen limply on his chest. Ike gently took the tome from Soren and placed it on his desk after marking the spot where Soren had closed the tome around his thumb. He then removed Soren’s robes so that he was only in his undershirt and trousers. Soren grumbled in his sleep but did not wake. Ike undid Soren’s hair clasps and set them on the nightstand near the candle that was down to near the end of the wick before extinguishing the candle and climbing into bed next to Soren.
When Soren slept, it was one of the few times he looked peaceful. Ike rubbed Soren’s brand with his thumb as the moon illuminated his childhood friend’s face. Even now, Ike couldn’t understand the world of rules and regulations that the nobility had set up. Ike had grown up half a day’s walk one way to a village with all types and half a day’s walk the other to a pasture where two women his father’s age were shepherds to a flock. As a noble, Ike couldn’t complain, he couldn’t slouch, he couldn’t use any old fork to eat, he couldn’t get mad, he couldn’t take an evening to practice sword training, he couldn’t someday make Soren his husba-
Ike’s thumb ceased its movements and he blinked. For whatever reason, until this moment he hadn’t considered that something came after courting. Regardless of what Titania said or Mist teased Ike about, Ike and Soren were not sentimental lovers. They did not give each other gifts after their courting gifts, they did not spend their evenings whispering sweet nothings. They did not exchange sonnets and they made love near silently. But there was something deeply appealing all of a sudden about the idea of being able to call Soren his husband.
This is Soren, Ike imagined saying. My staff officer and husband. When women surrounded Ike to hit on him, he could tell them: You’d have to ask my husband about that. He could assure Soren’s fear of abandonment every day, because Ike would promise him that he would be by Soren’s side as long as they both lived and maybe even beyond that.
Ike fell asleep thinking about these things, but when he woke in the morning to the shuffling of Soren getting up at dawn, he suddenly felt foolish. A different word would change nothing of the relationship he and Soren already had. Furthermore, above anything else except for maybe Ike himself, Soren valued practicality. He could almost hear Soren scold him about clients and time lost right then.
Ike got out of bed and said nothing on the matter to Soren at all.
----
Two years after Ike’s revelation and his abandonment of his title to restore the Greil Mercenaries and the old fort, Ike’s feelings had not changed. If anything, they had intensified as the fort became less and less burnt out rubble and more and more home yet again. When Ike moved into his father’s old bedroom and built a bed for Soren and himself, he wondered if it were different to sleep beside a spouse than a lover. When he watched Soren work in the dirt to try and produce vegetables to eat and herbs for potions to save money, he wondered if this is what it felt like to start a household. When Ike brought Soren food while he was absorbed in the ledgers, when Soren rubbed a vulnerary onto a wound from where an axe had grazed Ike, Ike wondered if that was the care that was supposed to exist between married couples.
Without memories of his mother and how she had acted with his father, Ike had no way to know.
It all came to a head during a supply run in the village. As usual, Ike carried their purchased wares while Soren consulted his list and haggled with merchants until they cried for mercy. He didn’t even mind the weight of all the goods; 19 had brought Ike yet another growth spurt and his bones ached with the same frequency that Mist had to drop the hems of his trousers and cannibalize his old shirts to make new larger ones. It felt good to stretch out and push his limits a bit.
Still, with Soren handling all of the tasks that actually required processing power, Ike was left little to do other than watch the village go about life. He could hear the apprentice of the blacksmith Soren was haggling with work the forge behind Ike. There were children running in the square playing tag, just as Ike had as a child. In front of the church, two women stood in dresses without obvious patches, clasping their right hands together.
Ike stared at the couple from across the square with more intensity than was perhaps polite. He couldn’t hear them speak, but he could see their mouths move before they kissed and entered the church. If it were Soren and him, Ike thought, they would just have the ceremony at the fort. There was no need for the church itself, once the handclasping was complete, they’d be married. And besides, if the Goddess needed to witness a marriage for it to be valid, Rhys had always said that she was around always. Plus, if it were at the fort, then only the mercenaries would witness it. That was better than doing it in the village, where even after Ike renounced his titles and returned to the simple mercenary life, people were constantly following him out of the corner of their eyes with reverence. And besides, family was-
Ike was suddenly shaken out of his stupor quite literally when Soren shook his shoulder. “Ike,” he said. “You’ve been staring across the way for five minutes now. Come on, I still have to replenish our staff supply.” It was only then that Ike even noticed the additional weight from the lances Soren had strapped to his back. Ike readjusted the weight of all the goods on his back before falling in pace with Soren’s clip.
“Sorry,” Ike said. “I was distracted.”
“I never would have guessed,” Soren said. “I stood right in front of you and yelled your name and you didn’t even blink. Are you sure you’re alright? This has been happening more and more recently.” Ike had to agree that his daydreaming had gotten a bit out of control. Ike was rarely caught up in his own head, but this was the third time this week that Ike had been so lost he had ignored his surroundings. Soren was obviously starting to be worried. Soren sighed and dug through his coin pouch, counting money under his breath.
It was a fateful moment. As Soren’s black hair bounced behind his back from the force of his steps and the sharp features of his face were drawn up in concentration from the mental math, Ike suddenly thought that no matter what others would say, there was no person more beautiful in Tellius at that very moment or perhaps ever than Soren.
Before Ike could remember to put up a filter, it spilled out. “Hey, Soren,” Ike said. “What do you think of marriage?”
At that moment, Soren stumbled over a cobblestone and it was only Ike’s quick reflexes in grabbing his arm that prevented him from faceplanting.
His face was burning red.
----
Ike could always rely on Soren to be, well, reliable. Although the rest of their shopping trip featured Soren fluctuating between full bodied blushing, his usual pale scowl, and a deeply pained look, he remained silent on the matter of marriage until they returned to the fort.
The problem was, he remained silent after that too. Soren sat at his desk, nose buried in a book of magic the Ike could barely read the title of. He very pointedly did not look at Ike, who sat on the bed.
Despite all of Soren’s progress, it was still up to Ike to initiate many things. But Ike had no idea how to initiate this conversation about a subject that Soren was supposed to have no idea Ike was thinking about. But before Ike could think too deeply about the matter, his mouth moved before his brain did. “I want to marry you,” he said, and then shut his mouth with and audible click of teeth. Soren stopped turning pages but did not say anything or look up. “I’ve thought about it a lot. Constantly, even. And now I’m not a noble so there’s no reason not to. Uh. Unless you don’t want to, of course,” he said. Soren put his book down. Ike kept babbling. “I mean it’s fine if you don’t want to. I’m happy just to have you by my side. And really, it’s just a passing thought. I didn’t mean to say it out loud. It just kinda. Happened. Which I seem to keep doing and I’m going to shut up now.”
Soren sighed. “Ike,” he said. “It’s okay.” Soren stared down at the desk, candlelight flickering across his face. He looked as troubled as he had the night he had told Ike about his parents, like there was something eating him from the inside out. His right hand crept up to clutch his left sleeve from where it had been resting on his lap. “I just need to think about some things.”
“Of course,” Ike said, even though his hands twisted in his lap and his stomach was in knots.
It seemed that thinking about some things was going to take at least a week, for one had passed and Soren had still said nothing to Ike about the matter. He also had said little to Ike about any manner not related to the day to day business of the mercenaries. They had also not touched for a week. When Ike tried to kiss Soren, he turned away. They slept back to back with an inch of air separating them.
Ike was never sure when to push Soren. Often, if he didn’t, Soren would pull away and say nothing, hiding his worries and secrets. But if he did, sometimes it would have the same effect and Soren would clam up even harder than he had before.
Worse, Soren’s worries ate him up inside, and left him cold and sad and scared. It hurt to see Soren tormented by the past Ike had barely heard about.
It finally came out late at night, when the two of them were busy not touching and not sleeping.
“Ike,” Soren said, almost too quietly to be heard even in the stillness of late spring’s night. “If you really want to. Marry me, there’s something you have to know.”
Ike stiffened behind him. There was only one topic that Soren would struggle with for so long. “Is it related to you being Branded?”
Soren stiffened. “…Yes.” Ike rolled over to face Soren’s back and watched as the lump where his arm was clutched the edge of the bed anxiously. “Surely, you’ve noticed, Ike,” he began. “That I haven’t been developing as much as you or Boyd.”
Ike paused. “I dunno. It’s always looked pretty developed to me,” he said, grinning. Soren rolled over and slapped Ike’s arm, glaring.
“Be serious, Ike!”
Ike laughed. “Well, it did its job. You’re no longer clutching onto the mattress."
Soren blinked. “I guess not. But it’s true. It seems that I have… Stopped aging. Or at least, it’s slowed down quite a bit.” He dropped his gaze from Ike’s. “The swordsman from the desert,” he whispered. “He’s like me. And he confirmed my suspicions that people like us don’t age like normal humans. Sub- I mean, Laguz outlive Beorc by centuries. And even halved, my cursed blood does the same.”
“Soren-“ Ike started.
“I could outlive you by decades, if I’m lucky. Centuries, if I’m not. I have no idea what my ancestry is. And marriage…” Soren curled into himself. “I could have you for the rest of your life, even as you grow old and I stay the same. But what will I do after… After…”
Ike wrapped himself around Soren, holding him to his chest. “It doesn’t matter to me. You’re not cursed, Soren. You just are. And I love every part of you. Even if you don’t want to get married, you’ll have me for as long as you want me. And I want that to be my entire life, and after too. And besides, I’m not planning on dying any time soon.”
“Ike…”
“But I don’t want anything that will hurt you. And if it hurts more to marry me and lose me than to not marry me and lose me, there’s no reason for you to indulge my selfish desire.”
Soren clung to Ike’s arm. “…and yet, I want it too. The idea of marrying you makes me so happy. And I’m scared of learning that happiness just to lose it.”
“…would it really be any worse than if you didn’t?”
“Ike?”
“Soren,” he said seriously. “No matter what you do, someday, I’ll die.”
Soren’s breath hitched. “I know that. I know it, but it still scares me. I think it always will.” He was silent then, even as Ike felt Soren’s fingers dig into his forearm, anxiously feeling his pulse. “But I feared telling you about myself too. I kept my past to myself for years, and I swore when I figured out the truth about myself that I would never tell you, lest you abandon me. But even though I was terrified when you dragged it out of me, these past two years have probably been the happiest of my life. If you had never made me overcome my fear, I don’t think I could’ve ever really been happy. So, I want to overcome fear myself.”
Ike’s heart thudded in his chest. “Are you saying…?”
“Ike,” Soren said. “I think that I’ve always loved you, ever since the day we met. I don’t think that will ever change.”
Ike couldn’t imagine what Soren had seen in him when they first met. At age 10, Ike could barely use a practice sword while Soren could already cast powerful magic. Ike struggled through Soren’s reading lessons and could barely write. He could still barely read or write.
But Soren had loved him. And Soren still loved him, even though Ike put his foot in his mouth and ran away from the nobility, even though Ike still kept crushing Soren under his weight after they made love, and even though Ike still felt like a small boy wearing his father’s clothes. Soren was a powerful mage, a gifted tactician, and brilliant with math and could work for any noble in Tellius. And yet, he said that the only place for him was at Ike’s side. And Soren never lied to Ike. If he thought that he would still love Ike even possibly centuries after Ike had died, he would. It was a little bit terrifying and a little bit exciting at once. Ike felt like his chest was too small to hold his feelings.
“I will always love you, Soren. Even after I die, I’ll love you and be waiting for you.”
“Ike, you can’t promise something like that!”
“But I want to. I don’t think there’s a person alive who I could ever admire more.”
Soren scoffed. “I think there are several people who would dispute that.”
“But it’s true! What’s that saying? ‘Every horse has its horns?’”
Soren sighed. “’Every rose has its thorn,’ Ike.”
“Soren,” Ike said. He gathered Soren’s face between his hands and guided it up, until they were looking each other in the eyes. He didn’t mention how Soren’s eyes were shining more than usual. “Please marry me.”
Soren inhaled and shook himself out of Ike’s hands, only to bury his face in his chest. “I will,” he choked out. Their hearts beat rapidly in unison, and even though Ike could feel his nightshirt growing wet, he could see Soren’s smile. Ike gathered Soren up and kissed him, even though his lips tasted of salt.
----
They decided to marry in two weeks and dug into their salaries to each buy a simple bronze ring from the silversmith in town on Ike’s insistence. Soren had teased Ike about his rare showing of sentimentality but didn’t argue the unnecessary expense. In fact, Soren seemed to be in unusually high spirts in general. Ike had caught him smiling while weeding the fort’s vegetable garden. Soren hated gardening and hated smiling more it seemed.
In fact, it seemed both Soren and Ike’s good cheer was disturbing the rest of the Greil Mercenaries. Shinon had done a double take the other day when passing the two of them in the hallway, and Ike could not figure out why until he felt the pull of the smile on his face. Ike and Soren had decided not to tell anyone of their plans for fear of word of their marriage getting out and everything spiraling until they were forced through a noble wedding by the well-meaning order of one Queen Elincia, regardless of the fact Ike had renounced his title.
Just as planned, two weeks later, Soren gave Ike a minute nod in the middle of dinner. While everyone was busy talking, Ike shakily stood up and moved to the front of the room, where the hearth was. Soren followed him.
Almost instantly, the noise stopped, and Ike felt nine pairs of eyes on him. His hands felt sweaty. Still, he reached out and grasped Soren’s right hand in his own. He could feel as his own hand trembled as well as Soren’s within his grasp. He looked Soren in his eyes, took a deep breath, and said:
“I, Ike, take you, Soren, as my husband, ‘til death do us part, and to that promise, I pledge to be faithful.” He released Soren’s hand.
In turn, Soren grabbed Ike’s right hand with his own. He seemed at loss for words for a moment, and Ike gently squeezed his hand. In response, Soren smiled and said:
“I, Soren, take you, Ike, as my husband, ‘til death do us part, and to that promise, I pledge to be faithful.”
With shaking fingers, Ike reached into his tunic’s pocket and pull out one of the rings before gathering one of Soren’s hands and pressing it into his palm, covering it with Soren’s own fingers. “This ring I give to you as my husband,” he said.
“And I accept this ring from you as from my husband,” Soren said in return, before pocketing it and pulling out his ring from his sleeve. “This ring I give to you as my husband,” he said, repeating the same motions as Ike.
“And I accept this ring from you as from my husband,” Ike said before pocketing his ring. He then grasped both of Soren’s hands in his own before kissing him.
Without looking at anyone and red in the face, Ike and Soren returned to seats, still holding their right hands together despite the sweat.
Silence rang out throughout the mess hall. Ike sweat more.
It was Mist who broke the silence after several beats where no one moved. “And now?” she asked. Ike looked up. His sister’s face seemed to be shifting rapidly between surprise, happiness, frustration, and, honest to Ashera, rage.
Ike gulped. “Now?” he repeated.
Mist looked exasperated. “Brother, are you seriously telling me that you’re having a clandestine marriage?”
“Uh, maybe?”
Ike looked at Soren who sighed. “That’s when you marry someone without then seeing a priest to finish it.”
Ike glanced at Mist, who was glaring disapprovingly. “I thought that it counted?” he tried.
A hand was then rested on his shoulder, making Ike jump. He looked up, and found Rhys smiling at him. “It does count, Commander.” Rhys then looked at Mist. “Don’t worry, I’m going to collect a few things and then be right back.” Rhys then patted Ike’s shoulder, hovered a hand awkwardly over Soren’s (who at this point looked resigned), and turned to travel down the hallway to the barracks.
Gatrie loudly sniffled before standing and whacking Ike and Soren firmly on the back. “I suppose,” he said through his tears, “that you have become a man after all.” He then sat back down and collapsed onto Shinon’s shoulder, sobbing. Shinon, in turn, looked as if he wanted to drown himself in his drink. Instantly, the mess hall broke into congratulations while Ike gingerly rubbed Soren’s back where Gatrie’s congratulations had fallen.
Ike looked at Mist, who’s eyes still looked annoyed even though she was smiling. “Mist, do you not…?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m fine with it, Ike. Everyone expected it. It’s just…” She bit her lip. “I’m your sister. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ike cringed. “I’m sorry, Mist. We just didn’t want anyone to make a fuss.”
“Which is why you didn’t even tell Rhys,” she said flatly. She then turned to Soren. “And you!”
“Um?” Soren eloquently said in response.
“Don’t think you’re off the hook now! You know better and besides,” Mist said. “You’re my brother now, too!”
Soren looked to be at a loss for words, but was thankfully interrupted by Rhys returning with arms full of scripture and tools to preform religious ceremony. Dazed, Ike and Soren followed his guidance until they were back in front of the hearth, with Rhys behind them.
Rhys laughed. “Don’t worry, all you have to say is ‘I do.’”
Afterwards, when everyone else was giving a toast while Ike played with the new ring on his finger and stared at Soren, who stared back, Ike saw Titania sit next to him out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look at her and she smiled.
“Your father would be happy for you, Ike,” she said.
----
Two months later, Mist shoved a roll of fabric into Soren’s hands before doing the same for Ike. “Wedding presents,” she explained, as Soren inspected the gray robes she had handed to him. “I worked really hard on them, so try not to outgrow them instantly, okay?”
Ike laughed. “Okay, Mist.”
Mist smiled, and at that moment there was a knock at the front door of the fort.
Confused, Soren put down the new robes and opened the door, behind which was a solider and a finely dressed man standing before a horse weighed down with what looked like a canvas. Ike felt a chill go down his spine and glanced at Mist. She was smiling.
“By the order of Her Majesty Queen Elincia Ridell Crimea, I am here to paint a portrait of Lord Ike and Lord Soren in honor of their marriage.”
“How lovely!” Mist said. “Queen Elincia must have gotten my letter.”
Ike looked desperately at Soren, who looked desperately back. Truly, there was no greater threat than an annoyed little sister.