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As soon as Soren saw a messenger coming towards his hut, a dark scowl formed on his face. No one knew him, he made sure he didn’t form any lasting bonds with villagers and made sure to live out of the villages so he could be left alone. There had been one person but since he left, Soren thought he was alone again. It took him a while to get over Priam after the boy had trashed Soren’s room and ran away, taking Ragnell with him. It wasn’t as if he was keeping the sword from the boy, the archsage was going to give it to him once he was ready—it was Ike’s legacy, how could he not?
He looked after Ike’s children and then their children, it became his purpose in life and Soren didn’t tire from it. Priam’s mother had died giving birth to him and Soren, for the first time in a long time, raised a child singlehandedly. And each day, as the boy grew, his heart would break and sing proudly at how Priam so closely resembled Ike even in behaviour.
It’s been years since Ike had died and Soren had finally gotten over that, loved the man’s children as if they were his own. He still thought of Ike but it didn’t hurt anymore and Soren got over getting over Ike, too—then Priam happened and ever since, the half-laguz found himself thinking more and more of Ike than he had in decades. And when Priam vanished, it broke him and Soren had bitterly left their then residence and travelled, never stopping for too long. Part of it was a search for Priam and another part of it was escape.
The frustration he’d felt over the years since the boy left came full swing and when he tore open the envelop that contained the letter, the spirits around him were buzzing and reacting to his anger. It was a simple message but Soren hadn’t been expecting an explanation, Priam was too bone-headed for that, though it still angered him.
I need your help.
He wasn’t surprised that the boy, he should be a full grown man by now, had found himself into trouble. It had always been the case and Soren was surprised he didn’t get this message any sooner, Priam had no manners and though the archsage now regretted it, was spoiled under his care. A click of his tongue and a quick mutter of a memorized spell, the paper in his hands took flame and was swept by the wind.
Soren took the things he needed for the journey, he didn’t have a lot and only had enough to survive. Once he was done with his preparations, he burnt the hut. He wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon and without sparing the place another look, he left towards the nearby village. He would need a horse and a few more supplies. He also needed to know what the latest news were, chances are that Priam is part of it—and damn the boy for failing to mention where he was.
It took nearly a month for Soren to finally track down the group known as the Shepherds. It was a surprise that a group as famous as theirs, it took him this long but they were always on the move across the continent and at speeds Soren just couldn’t keep up. It had been too long since his last long journey, it was almost nostalgic but he didn’t want to think about that, not right now or ever.
He was resting by the river with his horse when he heard the sound of battle not too far from their location. They were far away from any villages or hunting grounds and Soren knew that if they weren’t bandits, then it had to be the Shepherds. He mounted his horse and rode towards the battle, hoping that if Priam was there, he wasn’t dead yet because they still needed to have words.
When he arrived at the scene, the grass was already stained with blood and the smell of rotting flesh. It must have been the monsters that the villagers were talking about, he’d done his best until then to avoid running into them. Scanning the people quickly, he hoped to find Priam or at least, their commander. As he did, he was approached by an armoured knight with a scowl that matched his.
“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” The knight said though not with a pleasing tone.
Soren gripped at the reins, he didn’t want to be bothered with a fight or an interrogation. It was too easy to fling the man away with a spell but he controlled himself and answered, “I am looking for a man. His name is Priam.”
“Priam?” The knight repeated and his scowl softened.
“Yes, a dark haired buffoon with a penchant for meat and battle. Do you know him?”
“What do you need him for?”
Soren scowled and only if the man didn’t irritate him so, he would see how similar they both were. “I’m his older brother.”
The knight scrutinized him for a moment longer before escorting him down. Soren was led to a tent and his frown worsened when he saw not Priam but the prince of Ylisse, instead. By Ashera and Yune, if this was what Priam needed help from, he was dead.
“Milord, this man claims to be the older brother of sir Priam.”
The prince looked up from his maps and to Soren but the archsage didn’t so as much move to bow. Then he turned back to the knight, “and? Why bring him here to me?”
Soren grunted, earning a glare from the knight, “he seemed quite suspicious.”
The prince rolled his eyes, “everyone is suspicious to you, Frederick the Wary.”
“A title I am proud of, milord.”
A sigh, “just go and get Priam.”
“At once, milord.”
The knight exited but only after giving Soren a glare. Left alone, the prince let out another sigh and turned back to Soren with a smile, “I’m sorry about that. I hope he didn’t offend you.”
Soren nodded quietly, not wanting to prolong his stay any longer. The sooner he talked to Priam, the sooner he could help him (or not) and the sooner he could go back to his secluded lifestyle. It didn’t take long for Priam to burst into the tent with a huge grin and a loud laugh. Spotting the familiar face, he brought his arms around the smaller man and literally swept him off his feet.
“Soren! It’s good to see you!” He cheered, embracing his caretaker tightly before setting him down, “First of all, I apologize for my deceit. I knew you wouldn’t come if I hadn’t wrote that message—”
“What?”
“I didn’t need any help,” the warrior grinned, “I just—”
Before Priam could finish, Soren had already sent him flying out the tent with an Elwind spell. There was the sound of a heavy body landing on the ground followed by a flurry of voices and the knight’s shout of warning. Soren paid them no mind as he walked out the tent, glaring at his target who had quickly recovered from the attack—Soren was glad to know the boy hadn’t forgotten his training.
Priam raised his hands up and told everyone, “it’s okay! He’s family!”
“Not since you ran away,” Soren reminded him coldly and the boy did good to flinch.
“Soren, I can explain!” He said and though he was now a man, Soren only saw the same boy who got in trouble for stealing their neighbour’s sheep because he was just craving for meat, “please! Let me explain.”
He wasn’t heartless and despite what he’d said, Soren never stopped thinking of Priam as family. He didn’t acknowledge the boy with a nod or sound but he crossed his arms and stared. The warrior broke to a grin and embraced the shorter male, this time he wasn’t hurled off.
“I need to introduce you to Chrom and Robin first,” Priam explained and turned to the prince and the woman beside him, “Chrom, Robin, this is Soren. He’s my…younger brother.”
“I thought Frederick said you were older?” Chrom looked to Soren with a cocked brow and the archsage was regretting his slip of the tongue. He didn’t think Priam would look older than him by now.
“Mentally, I am far more mature than him,” he said smoothly and Priam didn’t argue with him.
“He likes to think he’s older,” Priam added with a joking grin, “Soren, this is Prince Chrom of Ylisse and this is Robin, his wife and our tactician.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the dark haired woman smiled and held out her hand for a shake.
Soren took her hand but the moment their hands touched, he felt a jolt. When she pulled away, he didn’t miss the uneasy look that quickly passed on her face as she looked at her hand.
“Are you staying long, Soren?” Robin asked, “we’ll be travelling to the village, would you join us?”
“I suppose I’ll be imposing for a couple of nights. Priam and I have much to discuss.”
“It’s no bother,” Chrom smiled, “feel free to stay as long as you’d like.”
“Soren, I’m really sorry for deceiving you and leaving all of a sudden,” Priam said with a guilty frown.
They were outside the supply tent but everyone else was tending to other duties and Robin had given them time to speak, choosing to take inventory later than normal.
“I—that day, I went into your room to look at the sword. I always did that when you left home, I’d just sit there and look at it like you do at night. I didn’t want to leave you but every time I asked you about the sword, you’d look at me with sad eyes.”
“It wasn’t because I didn’t approve of your fighting or your dream to become a great hero. I would’ve given you the sword when you were ready.”
“I know,” he paused and took Soren’s hand, remembering how this hand stroke his hair at night when he couldn’t sleep or when it would put bandages on his wounds. It was delicate and soft, surprising for a man with his experience, but it held so much power. “It’s because I looked like him, right? Ike?”
Soren’s eyes shot up to look at the boy. He’d told him of stories about Ike, about his other relatives but he’d never mentioned how closely they resembled each other. Suddenly feeling uneasy, he tried taking his hand back but it was held tightly.
“I know you love him, I see it every time you talk about him or whenever he’s mentioned. You used to talk to him or call out his name at night—”
“That’s—that’s none of your business, Priam!” Soren snapped, taking his hand, “yes, you resemble him in so many ways and it’s terrifying sometimes but that doesn’t mean I don’t see you. You didn’t have to run away because of that!”
“I had to! You were miserable—I had to find a way to stop it! You’ve been living alone ever since, watching over us, his children and you get left behind when we die.”
“So you left instead?”
“No—I…I heard of a tale about the strongest of warriors. If they died, they become Einherjar and they fight for the gods. I wanted to find a way to bring him back for you.”
“What?” Soren felt as if he’d gone deaf as long buried memories came back to him and left him shaking.
He could smell the rotting corpse, hear the familiar voice calling his name and feel the blood in his hands as he slayed the corpse of his most trusted partner. Magvel…Grado…Ike was dying—he died and Soren didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t see straight or move or feel. Then he heard how Grado had taken over Renais by resurrecting a knight’s wife to earn his loyalty. He remembered how he begged the young prince, used his magic to do the prince’s bidding until he brought back Ike. But it wasn’t Ike and Soren had to kill him because it was his fault and he defiled his soul because of his own selfishness.
He couldn’t go through that again and not with Priam, he couldn’t let such sin pass through the boy’s hands. He failed Ike and their child (because Ike always insisted she was their daughter) he wasn’t going to ruin another life with his selfishness.
Soren let out a heavy breath which came out ragged and he gripped at his robes, trying to expel the painful memories away. He could feel his eyes stinging and he tried to stop himself, not in front of Priam who knew nothing of his sin.
“Priam—”
“Priam!” Soren’s eyes snapped open and he looked at Priam, who’s eyes were wide as if he was caught off guard. “Virion said he needed help with—oh, I didn’t—Soren?”
The archsage flinched and recoiled as if he was burnt. He looked at the…thing standing before them and bile rose to his throat. Priam had done it and Soren could only see the horror of his past. He quickly chanted a Tornado and aimed it at the corpse.
“What’re you doing?!” Priam exclaimed and pushed his caretaker down, to stop him from casting anymore spells.
“Get off me!” Soren cried as he tried to push the other of him, “How could you do this?! He needs to die! He’s dead! He’s just a corpse—he’s not Ike!”
“Calm down! Listen! Listen to me, Soren!” Priam shook him and raised his voice over the cries, “it’s not a corpse! It’s Ike! Robin was able to summon his soul—it’s not a corpse! It’s Ike!”
“No, it’s not!” He shook his head, “Ike’s dead, he’s never coming back!”
Priam grunted and placed all his weight on top of Soren to stop him from struggling but seconds later, he jumped off with a scream after feeling being burnt. Soren got to his feet and was about to cast an Arcfire when he was pulled by the arm and the next thing he felt was being held tightly against a warm body with strong arms holding him in place and dried lips over his own.
He whimpered and fought the urge to curl and hold on but couldn’t pull away. He didn’t smell the scent of a rotting corpse or feel the coldness of death and for a moment, he just thought it’s Ike and he cried, holding on. Soren pressed his face on his shoulder, crying and chanting his name in a whisper.
“Soren,” Ike spoke softly and took his face in his hands gently, “I’m sorry for leaving you.”
Soren shook his head, “it wasn’t—I was—I…Ike! I’m sorry I did terrible things and I couldn’t…I just…”
“Shhh…it’s okay now,” he whispered and embraced the smaller man tightly, “it’s going to be okay now.”
Soren cried and didn’t let go while Ike stood there, holding him tightly until he finished.
“What happened?” Robin demanded as soon as he arrived back, “and please tell me your brother made that tornado.”
“Uh,” Priam blinked, he didn’t know what to say to her except, “yeah, he did.”
“You have to ask him to join us, he’ll be a great addition to our team. That is, if he wouldn’t mind,” the tactician said almost desperately.
Priam coughed, remembering how desperate Soren held onto Ike, there was no way to separate those two now. He hadn’t ever seen Soren in such a state and was at a loss on what to do. He’d known Ike for a little over a month now and knew the guy was so oblivious to men and women who threw themselves at him but he just started making out with Soren and Priam left without a word.
“Sure, I’ll talk to him about it.”
“Great!” Robin smiled, “so, where’s your brother? Stahl and Cherche are almost done with dinner.”
“He’s busy and so is Ike. So, you shouldn’t send someone after them.”
The tactician shrugged, “all right, if you say so. But talk to him, okay?”
Priam caught Soren the next day, he was exiting Ike’s tent and called him over.
“Soren, I—”
“I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday,” Soren quickly apologized, “I…I’d seen some terrible things and I thought you’d done something horrible just to please me.”
“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t think of your feelings, I should’ve explained earlier but I knew you wouldn’t let me. I just wanted you to be happy because you made me happy. My parents died and you could’ve left me but you didn’t. I thought it was your turn.”
Soren let out a sigh and extended his arm to pat the other on the head, “you’ve grown up into a radiant man, Priam.”
Priam grinned, “you raised me.”
“I’m glad your brother said yes,” Robin grinned as she approached Priam, “but I’m surprised he doesn’t fight beside you.”
“Well, something must have clicked between Ike and him,” he shrugged, feigning innocence.
“Morgan says they’re joined at the hip,” she said and sat down on the grass.
“Yeah, they are.”
“Hey, Priam? I don’t mean to impose but…he’s not really your brother, is he?”
Priam laid his sword down and looked at the tactician, quiet and still before he answered a quiet, “yes.”
“I see, I felt something when our hands touched,” Robin quietly explained, “I can’t explain it but…I just knew there was something different about him. Like we were the same and yet…not.”
Priam inhaled deeply, knowing he could trust Robin with their secrets, “Soren used to fight beside the Radiant Hero, much like how you fight beside Chrom. He was a great tactician and he was a good father to me, like you are to Lucina and Morgan. There’s a lot of similarities between the both of you—he’s just colder.”
Robin shook her head with a small laugh, “don’t you mean quieter? He doesn’t seem to be cold around Ike, they look like the best of friends.”
“You’ve yet to see that man fight,” Priam warned with a grin.
Soren and Robin became fast friends and spent their free time talking about tomes and compared strategies. Morgan would sometimes join in but after losing so many times to Soren, had started following him around like a puppy. Ike had jokingly compared him to Tormod and Soren had to gut him for it. When Micaiah had arrived, answering their summons, she agreed with Ike and she was lucky to have high resistance to magic.
It was early morning when Robin crawled out of her tent and joined many others in the mess tent. Unlike most days, it was quiet save for the sound of Stahl making breakfast for everyone. The tactician let out a tired sigh and she rested her head on the table, copying many of the others. She raised her head when she noticed Micaiah taking a seat across her and looking as if she had the most restful night.
“Is there something wrong with everyone?” The sage asked as she looked around.
Robin groaned, “I’m guessing no one got much rest last night.”
“Really?” Micaiah blinked, “everyone? How’s that possible?”
“You mean you didn’t hear anything?” Robin frowned.
“Hear what?”
“The noises from…” Robin trailed off, turning pink, “uh, th-the noises coming from-from Ike’s tent?”
“Oh!” The silver-haired maiden nodded in understanding then frowned, “oh dear, I’m so sorry. I realize they could be a bit loud.”
“A bit.”
“They’re a lot quiet compared to King Tibarn and Prince Reyson.”
“You mean the serene heron prince?”
Before Micaiah could answer, a flushed Priam entered the tent and sat beside them.
“I can’t believe what happened last night,” he groaned.
“You’ll get used to it,” Micaiah offered optimistically but only earned scared looks from both her companions.
“Gods, I take back what I said,” Robin sighed and both turned to her questioningly, “he’s not quiet at all—heck, he’s not even cold if judging by last night’s declarations of love.”
“Soren has a soft spot for Ike,” Micaiah explained.
"I'm pretty sure they were going hardcore last night," Priam shuddered at the memory of Soren's loud begging last night.
Just then, Soren and Ike arrived in the tent. The couple earned looks from the rest of the occupants but paid no mind and went over to where Robin and the others were sitting.
"He's still walking, though." Michaiah said, but loud enough for only Priam and Robin to hear.