Chapter Text
[Titania]
Through the windows cut into the stone walls of Castle Gallia, Titania could see the lush green forests that hugged close to the buildings of Zarzi. The humid air made stray hairs from her braid stick to her neck, but at least she was better off than people like Shinon or Mist, who had both tied up their hair in different ways–Mist in two pigtails, Shinon in a thick bun–to try and keep flyaway hairs from sticking to sweaty necks.
Being in Gallia again always made her think of Greil. It was impossible not to. It was the first place she met him. It was the first place they fled after his death. She tried not to let her maudlin feelings sink her too deeply, but her usual coping mechanism of focusing on the Greil Mercenaries and work was thwarted by Ike’s orders to relax and take it easy while they were in a safe place.
While exploring (though it was, in reality, more like an extended pacing) the castle, Titania crossed the open doorway of a meeting room. Much to her surprise, she spotted Queen Nailah and Prince Rafiel. Queen Nailah sat at the head of the table with a goblet of wine, with Prince Rafiel to her immediate right. Titania bowed her head at them in acknowledgement, but before she could proceed, Nailah called out to her.
“Deputy Commander.”
“Queen Nailah,” Titania stopped in her tracks, moving slightly closer to the doorway.
“Would you care to sit with us?” Queen Nailah gestured to the seat across from Prince Rafiel. Titania entered the room slowly and sat down, folding her hands on the table politely.
“How are you finding Gallia?” she asked as Prince Rafiel poured her some wine of her own. She thanked him quietly, and he let out a small hum.
“It’s very humid,” Queen Nailah said, sipping her own wine. “But the lush forests are unlike anything I’ve seen before.”
“Are there no forests in Hatari…?” Titania asked. “Pardon me for being ignorant, but…”
Queen Nailah chuckled. “No pardon necessary. After all, we are the first ones to cross the desert in…centuries at the minimum.” She paused to swirl her wine around her goblet. “Indeed, there are forests in Hatari. But none so thick, so lush, and so large. This whole country is a forest.”
“How about you, Prince Rafiel?” Titania asked. “Returning to Tellius after so long…”
“Tellius has lost much since I last saw it…” Rafiel said softly. But he smiled. “Yet, I have gained much. I met Nailah, and with her love and devotion, I was able to reunite with my siblings. Indeed, while I am still affected by the losses, I am grateful to have had the chance to witness the losses with my own eyes. And I am happy to see my family again.” He raised his eyes, gazing at Titania. It was easy to get lost in those gentle eyes. Reyson and Leanne were delicate at first glance, but there was a fire in their eyes, a fighting spirit. Rafiel’s eyes were calm and serene, like a still lake on a windless night. It made her feel like she had never known peace before this very moment. “Are you happy?”
Titania almost choked on her wine. “A-ah…?”
“Pardon him.” Queen Nailah laughed again. “When he catches a glimpse of a wound in someone’s heart, he can’t help but stick his nose into their business.”
“I apologize for catching you off guard,” Prince Rafiel said, sounding genuinely contrite. “I understand that it is not an easy question to answer. But, if you would do me the honor of sharing your thoughts, I would love to hear you speak about your deepest troubles.”
Titania fiddled with the stem of her wine glass. She wondered what Prince Rafiel was sensing, that made him ask such a question. “I…I am happy, yes. Perhaps…not at this moment, with a war looming ahead and coming off of such losses. But the ones that I care for have grown strong and still stand besides me.”
“An answer befitting a leader,” Queen Nailah commented. Prince Rafiel gazed at her fondly before saying,
“I am glad to hear it. But the wound in your heart…it is not alleviated by your successes in battles, nor healed by the growth of your family.” His eyes and voice were still gentle and serene.
Perhaps it would be all right, she thought, To say it out loud. After all, they are strangers–no, trusted comrades, and a sympathetic third party.
“It is true…” she sighed. “I lost someone…I loved dearly. And…I never…expressed my feelings for him. He was married, and even after he lost his wife…” She trailed off. Sometimes, she wondered if she should have confessed her feelings for him after Elena died. Sometimes, she wished she had, and it made her feel something akin to guilt. How could she even dream about developing something more with Greil, when she knew how Greil loved and mourned Elena, and how lovely and kind Elena was?
“It is often the inaction of our past that haunts us the most,” Queen Nailah said thoughtfully. “I am sorry for your loss.”
Titania shook her head. “I made my decision. It was the right one, I think.” But…she always thought she would have more time to change her mind. That maybe once Ike and Mist were grown, she could tell Greil and get her secret off her chest. And if he turned her down...well. Ike and Mist would be adults, and she could take a hiatus from the mercenaries to give her heart a break. But after Greil passed away, all her plans were for naught.
“Do you still mourn him?” Prince Rafiel asked softly.
“Yes…I think I do. After he had died, there were so many things to take care of…we were in the middle of the war, and Ike…Ike and Mist were distraught. So I had to keep going for them. But once the war was over, once we thought his murderer was dead…I was able to take some time to process and grieve. But I still…even after three years…it still hurts.”
“I can see…as the deputy commander, I can sense that you felt an increased responsibility for the others under your wing. I think you find that you are unable to mourn for your commander, for you have busied yourself with caring for others who grieve just as much,” Prince Rafiel said, and Titania stiffened in her chair. His words hit closer to home than she would like to admit to herself. Perhaps she was replacing having to deal with her regrets and lingering feelings for Greil by caring for his children in his stead. Prince Rafiel lowered his head, his wings closing against his back, as if hands folded in prayer. “I hope that, by speaking of your feelings about your loss of him, you can find closure for your own self.”
“And I hope that next time, your feelings for a partner will bear sweet fruit.” Queen Nailah raised her wineglass to Titania and then drank from it, and Titania drank from her own wine as well.
“I don’t know if I will feel anything like this again…” Titania gave a small, weak smile as she set down her goblet. “But I do hope that Mist will avoid my mistakes. To not only lose someone, but the possibilities and what-ifs along with it…” she trailed off.
Queen Nailah raised her brow. “Only Mist? Not General Ike?”
Titania felt blood rushing to her face. Oops…
She scrambled to think of a way to cover up her slip of the tongue. “...Ike is already a lost cause. He has already found someone, and now, he will never love again.” Ike was much like his father in many ways. His blue hair and deep blue eyes were that of his mother, but his loyalty and strength were all his father. As well as their approaches to love. Greil loved only once. There was never anyone before Elena and there was never anyone after. And Titania could see the look in Ike's eyes when he looked at Soren. It was the same one as the one Greil reserved for Elena, and Elena only, up until the very end.
Queen Nailah frowned, but Prince Rafiel smiled serenely. “Yet he has much love in his heart…would I be correct in assuming that his tale did not end in tragedy?”
Titania felt her face warming, and she busied herself with her wine. “Well…”
“Is it that boy who always follows him around?” Queen Nailah asked bluntly. “They smell like each other.”
Yes. The answer was on the tip of her tongue. It would be easy to acknowledge, because it was transparent to anyone who had eyes–or a nose, apparently. And Queen Nailah and Prince Rafiel had been…kind. They were good people. People she trusted enough to confide in, despite only meeting them days ago. She was confident that they would not attack Ike and Soren, or speak ill against them, or judge them for being in love.
Yet Titania still hesitated. Could she genuinely say, in good conscience, that it was up to her to let people in on this open secret? Even if they already knew, to say it out loud…it would be taking away that chance from Ike and Soren, wouldn’t it? Taking away their ability to decide who they wished to tell and who they wished to keep their secret from. And so far, neither of them have acknowledged their relationship with anyone. Not even the other mercenaries.
So in the end, Titania shook her head firmly. “Queen Nailah, I’m sorry that I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. You and Prince Rafiel have your ways of drawing conclusions, and while I know that you mean no harm, it is still a topic that I do not wish to speculate on out of respect to General Ike and Soren.”
“It is understandable. You Tellians…you are so strange about so many things.” Queen Nailah shook her head. “For one, your treatment of the Blessed Children is…astounding.”
“The Blessed Children?” Titania asked.
“Yes. The Blessed Children of the Mark…a living symbol of the Goddess’ desire for love and equality between races. Micaiah is one of them. That boy is another.” Queen Nailah drank her wine, unaware of the shock and confusion bubbling up inside of Titania.
“Spirit charmers, you mean…?” Titania asked. She didn’t know that Micaiah was a Spirit Charmer like Soren. She wondered if Soren knew. This was probably valuable intel, wasn’t it?
“Spirit charmers?” Queen Nailah’s brow furrowed.
“Nailah,” Prince Rafiel said quietly. He then said something in the ancient tongue. Queen Nailah glanced at him and responded in kind. Prince Rafiel spoke again, and Queen Nailah nodded.
“Ah, my apologies for excluding you from our conversation. Rafiel was merely correcting me about something.” Queen Nailah bowed her head.
“Oh…it’s no problem,” Titania said, feeling rather confused. She searched around for a different topic of conversation. Queen Nailah looked…almost guilty, as opposed to her usual confident demeanor. It made Titania want to shake whatever thoughts were swirling around her out of her head.
“Um…how did you know that I was talking about Commander Greil?”
Prince Rafiel smiled widely, while Queen Nailah began to laugh.
[Rhys]
After the Laguz Alliance dissolved and merged with the Apostle’s army, Rhys suddenly found himself with many more helpers. He welcomed the healers from Begnion warmly, glad to finally have more hands to assist in healing wounds and hearts post-battle, as well as to treat the splinters, the twisted ankles, or the hundred other minor injuries that soldiers seemed to accumulate in between battles. It gave him, and everyone else involved in the healing arts, some precious downtime.
On top of that, Rhys also found it pleasant to be surrounded by other healers, who were mostly men and women of the cloth. He was able to have some wonderful discussions with some more experienced than him, and to give out gentle advice to his juniors. It was a lovely time reminiscent of his time in the monastery, even though he was surrounded by canvas instead of stone.
Rhys thumbed through a small prayer book. Seated at a small wooden table, he was only half paying attention to what he was reading, preferring to let the quiet chatter and motion of the tent wash over him. His reverie, however, was not to last.
Eli and Mina were seated across from him, sipping hot cups of tea to ward off the cold Daein night. They were both sweet, pleasant Begnion women. They had a bit of a penchant for gossip, but so did everyone else in the army, and Rhys never felt a need to censure them for passing the time with some idle chatter.
As Rhy’s eyes lingered over the line, Only the Goddess achieves perfection, but She still loves us with and for our flaws, Eli suddenly turned to Rhys. “Brother Rhys…you work with Sir Ike, yes…?”
Rhys smiled. It was not the first time that someone has asked him about his connection to Ike. Ike was revered as the legendary general who led a fledgling army to defeat the Mad King, and it always made him feel proud to hear Ike getting the praise he deserved. He lowered his book, slotting in a bookmark as he said, “I do, yes. I’ve been with the company for many years, and I’ve been lucky to see Ike and Mist grow from sweet young children to the wonderful adults they are today.”
“Then…” Eli hesitated. Mina giggled, and she blushed. “Do you know…what Sir Ike likes?”
Rhys chuckled warmly. “He likes good food and family,” he said simply.
“How about…his type?” Mina asked, and then giggled even harder.
Rhys smiled widely enough that his eyes crinkled. He paused, picking his words carefully, as he wanted to neither lead these girls on nor lie to them. “Ike is not a person who…thinks much on romance at this point in his life. He is too preoccupied with leading us all to a safe victory to dwell on the matters of the heart.” Though it was the truth—Ike truly did not think much of romance, for he already found a partner he clearly adored—it neatly dodged the answer to the real question that was asked: that neither of these lovely girls were dour, dark-haired mages with an unshakeable loyalty that begot envy and a sharp mind that felled a king.
“Oh…” Eli seemed…genuinely upset. Rhys’ heart ached for the poor girl. He wondered if this was the first time she had feelings for a man.
“Has Sir Ike had any relationships before…?” Mina asked. Rhys, out of kindness for poor Eli, tried not to laugh. He’s been asked this question…many times, in many ways, from many motives.
“No,” Rhys said. Again, he was…stretching the truth a little. Ike had never had a relationship…before the one that he was currently in. “He is quite young, you know.”
“He’s a year younger than I and he looks like that…” Eli sighed. “He is…truly wonderful…”
Rhys paused, frowning slightly. “I can honestly say that he is a wonderful young man,” he said slowly. “But he is also blunt to the point of rudeness, trusting to the point of ignorance, and driven to the point of bullheadedness. He is a hero, but he is also a man, and man can never be perfect.”
Mina giggled again but Eli frowned. “Brother Rhys…”
“I…I do not wish to speak overmuch about relationships, as my own personal experience with romantic ones is…limited.” Rhys could feel his face turning red. He was treading into dangerous territory…preaching about something that he had no personal experience with. “But, from observing others…I believe a good relationship is founded on not being blinded by the way a person seems perfect, but seeing the ways that they are not, making up for their shortcomings and letting them make up for your own, and finding it within yourself to love them despite their flaws.”
Eli and Mina were gazing at him as if he said something deeply profound. Rhys ducked his head, still a little red in the face. “Again, I don’t have much personal experience with this…so this is just what I’ve observed from close friends and allies.”
“Brother Rhys…” Mina shook her head. “Thank you, Brother Rhys. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
Rhys smiled softly. “I’m glad to help.” He felt satisfied knowing that he imparted a valuable lesson on the girls.
[Oscar]
“Oscar. Could you plate up some food for Ike?” Soren asked. He was all brisk and businesslike as he entered the mess tent. “A staff meeting is going long and he is hungry.”
“When is he not hungry?” Oscar chuckled. Soren didn’t laugh, but Oscar swore that a corner of his lip twitched. “Take a seat. I’ll serve up an Ike-sized portion.”
Oscar turned to the roasted venison meal that he made out of some wild game some of the Laguz caught. He carved off a good shank of meat, dripping with fat, and set it on the plate. He served up a portion of the stew made of the trimmings from the large stewpot, and added a loaf of bread on the side.
Then he glanced at their staff officer, who had taken out a small book and was writing something down using his lap as a desk. Soren hadn’t asked for any food for himself, but Oscar knew that Soren had a tumultuous relationship with food. He had noticed the way that Soren could get so distracted he would neglect eating, yet at the same time the way Soren squirreled away nonperishables into his pocket or into his room. He knew that Soren ate meat sparingly, preferred vegetables or bread, and coveted sweets in a quiet, desperate way.
And Oscar also knew that Ike knew all of these things. He’d seen the way that Ike would sneak his salad portion, or his bread roll, or even his precious pieces of meat onto Soren’s plate when he thought Soren wasn’t looking. He’d seen the way that Ike would stop mid-bite to watch Soren as he nibbled on his meal, as if making sure that Soren was actually consuming the food. And he remembered when a fifteen-year-old Ike had approached him, asking him softly to serve up a little less to him and a little more to Soren, he’s just too skinny don’t you think, he won’t waste food but when he’s full he’ll just give it to me anyways.
Ike wasn’t here to ask for a Soren-sized portion to take back to a “staff meeting.” But Oscar knew he would want one.
So onto the plate was set a serving of roasted root vegetables. A second set of utensils joined the first. And, after glancing over his shoulder to make sure Soren was not looking, a second loaf of bread was sliced in half, an earthenware jar was carefully opened, and a square of precious honeycomb was smeared onto the white flesh of the bread.
He turned around with a pleasant, neutral smile, setting the dinner for two in front of Soren. Soren glanced up, closing his notebook and tucking it away. His eyes narrowed as he inspected the plate, lingering on the honeyed bread.
“Ike won’t eat the vegetables,” he said, as if Oscar wasn’t the one cooking for their mercenary group for as long as he had worked there.
“I’m aware,” he said cheerfully. “But perhaps their mere presence will inspire Ike into eating a balanced meal.”
Soren scoffed. “Not likely.” But he picked up the plate, making no comment on the two forks and two knives, nor on the glistening golden honey melting into one of the breads, and left without further complaint.
And when the plate was returned later that night, both forks had traces of venison grease clinging to them.
[Boyd]
Ike was gay. Boyd had, admittedly, been confused when Mist first told him. Why would anyone wanna be with another guy when girls existed? Especially a guy like Ike, who didn’t seem like a pansy at all. He liked to train with Boyd and he ate a lot and didn’t beat around the bush speaking in flowery tones like the various nobles (Bastion) Boyd met over the years. The only difference Boyd could see was that he liked to look at women and Ike just liked to look at Soren, who Boyd admitted did look a lot like a woman but didn’t have soft curves or a sweet smile. Eventually, Boyd stopped thinking too hard about it. Ike was just…Ike. It wasn’t about guy or girl or anything like that, Ike just liked Soren for some reason. Liked him enough to want to share a room with him. And when Boyd stopped thinking about it, he also found out that he didn’t care. Ike didn’t change after he got with Soren. He was still Boyd’s pal.
Soren was also gay. That made more sense to him. Soren was all pretty, with his super long hair and his loose robes. And he always followed Ike around, and always glared at anyone who talked to Ike or looked at Ike. But even though he called Boyd a moron, and other big words that meant that he thought Boyd was stupid, he was smart enough to make plans that prevented any of them from dying and he never tried to shortchange or withhold Boyd’s paycheck and and Boyd did not want to end up on the wrong side of one of his wind spells. And unlike Ike, he did change after getting with Ike. He became almost tolerable to be around, and Ike could easily bring his sourness back in line with a simple look or a warning word.
All in all, Boyd was pretty okay with Ike and Soren being gay together. He tried not to think too hard about them kissing, or them fucking, because hey, their business was their business. And Ike was his friend and his commander and it was weird to think about him naked.
What Boyd wasn’t okay with was the way those Begnion soldiers were laughing. Especially since he overheard what they were laughing about.
“I got one! Would you rather work for an army run by a fag, his rentboy, and a sub-human, or would you rather work for the senate?”
That made the soldiers cackle. One of them said, “I mean, I’m here, aren’t I? Doesn’t that tell you how bad the senators are?”
“Speak for yourselves. I’m hoping that the General is nice enough to give everyone a turn.”
A few of the soldiers chuckled, but one said, “C’mon, Dirk, don’t tell me you’re a–”
“Nah, but come on, have you seen the face of that tactician? He’s hiding something under that robe. And General Ike is a real man. There’s no way he’s just settling for a pretty guy to warm his bed when there’s so many gorgeous women about.”
“You think so?”
“I’ll bet you five gold. And it’s easy to find out. Just pick up that robe and–”
Boyd stormed up to the soldier who was talking. And he punched him right in his ugly mug.
“Hey man! What the hell?” The three other soldiers jumped to their feet. “What’s your problem, man?” one of them demanded.
Boyd glared at them as the one that he punched staggered to his feet. He put up his fists–he was the middle child of three boys and a mercenary. Four versus one didn’t phase him. “Save your gold, you lot, cuz you’re gonna need to buy some concoctions by the time I’m done with you.”
“What’s your fucking problem!” one of the soldiers yelled as he swung at Boyd.
Boyd grabbed his fist and smashed his own into his nose. The soldier went down hard. “You put some respect to the General’s name!” he bellowed, tossing the soldier aside with a big swing of his hand.
Other people in the camp began to stare. Some gathered, both Laguz and Beorc, stopping to watch Boyd beating the crap out of these four soldiers. A cat laguz hooted, and Boyd just smirked to himself. Let the audience watch. He could make an example out of these four.
The fight ended quickly. They were soldiers, but Boyd was a brawler, and he was madder than a bull. Just as he laid the last soldier flat on the ground, a familiar voice rang out. “Boyd! What on earth are you doing?”
Boyd grinned. There was blood between his teeth, running from his nose; he just turned around and gave a lazy salute. “Deputy Commander. Just teaching these four a lesson about respecting General Ike.”
Titania’s eyes flashed, but she gazed down at the four soldiers. “Pick yourselves up and come with me. We’ll sort out the circumstances and the punishments in private.”
As the four soldiers got to their feet, they glared at Boyd. Boyd just smirked back. He wasn’t afraid of any punishment that the Deputy Commander dealt. If he heard anyone disrespecting Ike like that, he would do it all over again.
[Shinon] [+ Rolf]
“Well, well, look who it is…” Shinon grumbled. He shot another arrow at the target, disinterested, as always, at tending to other people.
Rolf looked over his shoulder to see who Shinon was talking about, lowering his bow. As he saw Skrimir approaching, Rolf felt his eyes go wide. He had never really spoken to the Gallian prince, and all he had ever heard about him was from Soren grumbling about him in the mess hall. But Skrimir looked like he was making a beeline for them.
As the man drew near, Rolf found his neck craning back just to take in the whole height of him. Skrimir was even taller than he looked from a distance! But despite his intimidating height and his loud voice, he had a broad smile on his face as he spoke to Rolf.
“Wee kit! I have been searching for the tent of the little tactician. Do you know where his tent is?”
Despite his friendly demeanor, Rolf felt his knees quaking a little! He tried to remember the lessons that Oscar gave him, back when they were staying in various palaces and castles, surrounded by lords and ladies. How was he supposed to address a Laguz Prince? He was so distracted thinking about long-forgotten etiquette lessons that he realized that he was silent for far too long. Scrambling to find words, he finally blurted out, “Soren doesn’t have a tent.”
Shinon stiffened besides him, and Rolf kicked himself without really knowing why he was kicking himself. He was being rude, wasn’t he? Or did he say something wrong?
His whole body stiffened, like a mouse being spotted by a cat, as Skrimir frowned. It was a thunderous expression, and in a man as large and brash as Prince Skrimir it was frightening. “Who would make this grave insult against the little tactician by not providing him with sleeping quarters?” he bellowed.
“O-oh, I just mean…” Rolf flinched, trembling. He didn’t mean to make Prince Skrimir mad…and he couldn’t tell him the truth, because Oscar told him–Oscar told him that some people wouldn’t like the fact that Soren and Ike were in love, and that he should keep it a secret, but he squirmed uncomfortably because he accidentally said…!
Shinon suddenly spoke up. “The little twerp would never sleep in it anyways. He just passes out wherever he’s doing his work. Why bother setting up a tent for the ungrateful brat if he’s not gonna sleep there, you know?” He spoke casually, never taking his eyes off of the target.
“Ah. I see. He is like Giffca, then. Giffca never sleeps. It seems as though he is always awake and alert!” Skrimir beamed. “My father said work ethic like that was an admirable quality, and now I understand!”
“Well, go understand it elsewhere,” Shinon said. “Good luck finding him.”
“Thank you, small one and tall archer!” Skrimir wandered off, presumably to continue his hunt for Soren.
As soon as Skirmir was gone, Rolf burst out, “Uncle Shinon…!”
“It’s whatever. Keep those laguz off our backs, you know.” Shinon pulled back an arrow and shot it at the target again. It hit the bulls-eye with a
thunk
.
“R-right…!” Rolf picked up his bow again.
After a few minutes of silence, something occurred to Rolf.
“Wait…is Giffca…”
[Gatrie]
Gatrie approached Ike’s tent, whistling happily. Soren said that he had something for him, but right now, their moody little tactician was nowhere to be found. Which meant that there was only one place he could be: in the tent he shared with the Commander, probably getting ready for a bath or mending some clothes or talking to Commander Ike.
As he drew nearer to the tent, he heard something that made him pause, his brow knitting together. It could have been a mere breath of wind, but the wind tonight was barely strong enough to rattle the needles on the pine trees.
There was that sound again, slightly louder, followed by a low murmur. And the sounds were coming from Commander Ike’s tent.
Gatrie smirked. Well! The commander and staff officer were rarely so bold as to make love anytime but the very deadest of nights. However, the whole army had gotten permission to rest, relax, and recharge after their flight back to Gallia. Most of the army had taken advantage of their proximity to a friendly town to leave camp and unwind in the best way possible…and it seemed like Ike and Soren had the same idea!
Gatrie turned away from the tent with a chuckle, resolving to let the two of them have their fun tonight. It gave him a chance of his own, after all, to maybe find a stiff drink or a pretty face.
As he walked away from the tent, he spotted someone approaching. He paused to appreciate the vision walking towards him: the lovely face, the voluptuous curves, the wavy hair…before the identity of the person suddenly struck him. It was Aimee, the gorgeous shopkeeper who was head-over-heels for Ike.
…Head over heels? For Ike? Uh-oh. Gatrie could smell woman trouble a mile away, and Aimee was much closer than that.
“Hel-looo! Who is this lovely apparition I see before me?” Gatrie purred. “Is it a ghost of this forest? It must be, for there is no earthly power who can be so beautiful!”
“Ew, Gatrie,” Aimee said, her delicate nose wrinkling. “Get out of my way, you oaf. I’m looking for Ike.” She flipped her hair.
The silence Gatrie swore he could hear from the tent was deafening. Gatrie grinned, hiding his amusement under his rakish smile. “It is very well that you’ve run into your own knight in shining armor, milady! I can happily inform you that Ike will not be returning to his tent tonight.”
Aimee’s scowl could curdle milk. “He’s not? Where is he, then?”
“Our illustrious staff officer, no doubt so concerned over our poor commander’s well-being, has seen fit to dig into his tight coinpurse” (and tight other spaces, which was a thought that made Gatrie snicker) “and buy Ike an inn room. Our commander is sleeping on a feather bed tonight!” It was a bald-faced lie, but Aimee’s expression curled inwards and she stamped her delicate foot on the ground.
“Ugh, that…! That little whelp! I bet he heard of the plans I made for Ike and arranged that to keep my love away from me!” She whipped around, glaring at Gatrie. “What inn is Ike staying in? Do you know?”
Gatrie grinned. “No clue! I’m not privy to that sort of information. But, I certainly don’t mind helping you search. How about we hit up the inn that’s just down the road? And if he’s not there, I’m happy to buy you a drink in consolation.”
The slap rang through Gatrie’s ears. He rubbed his cheek, watching Aimee storm off in the opposite direction. He chuckled to himself.
Once Aimee had disappeared from sight, Gatrie glanced back at the commander’s tent. He said loudly, “Jeez, after a slap like that, whatever Soren has for me has better be good!”
There was no response from the wind, but Gatrie sauntered off anyways, feeling smug.
[Mia]
“Ooo, is this seat taken?” Mia asked brightly as she approached a small group of people she recognized. Ilyana shook her head, her mouth too full of roast venison to reply.
“Hello, Mia.” Heather winked at her, and Mia just grinned back.
Sitting next to Heather was Nephenee, followed by Marcia, Jill, and Lethe. Mia nodded to herself a little, looking around the little circle they’ve made. It was good to hang out with these ladies again! Besides Heather, who only joined them in this war, these other girls were familiar faces from back during the Mad King’s War.
“Sooo, ladies, what’s the gossip? You guys seemed to be preeeetty deep in conversation!” Mia leaned forward, but then had to lean back again before her long hair dragged in her food.
Nephenee blushed. “Oh…well…we were just catching up…” she seemed a little embarrassed by something.
“We were, at first, but then we got a little sidetracked.” Marcia giggled. “We were talking about the Hawk King!”
“Ooo…Tibarn? Did you see him whizzing around in that last battle? The way he just whooshes from the sky and claws an enemy!” Mia’s eyes widened. War sucked, but it was awesome seeing all of these great warriors in action again! None of them were her destined rival, but she could appreciate a cool, rugged Hawk King!
“Of course he’s impressive! He’s the leader of the Hawk Tribe!” Lethe tossed her hair, but shook her head. “Hss. But that requires no discussion, everyone knows of Tibarn’s prowess in battle. No, what these Beorc are discussing is whether or not Tibarn lays with Reyson.”
“Huh?” Mia paused.
“Nooo, not lays with!” Marcia blushed until she was the same color as her hair. “We’re just talking about…if they’re in love or not!”
“I’m afraid I rightly never heard of it…” Nephenee said reluctantly. “It must be a city thing…for…well…two men to love each other, I suppose.”
“It’s not a city thing, my dear…and it’s certainly not a man thing,” Heather scoffed, as if she was offended at the mere suggestion that anything could be exclusive to men.
Mia frowned, leaning back in her seat. When Lethe mentioned Tibarn and Reyson being together…well…it made her think of the boss and Soren.
Mia knew that it wasn’t that common of a thing, and it’s even less commonly talked about, and it certainly wasn’t accepted everywhere. It was why she never breathed a word about Ike and Soren’s relationship to anyone. She would hate to be the cause of grief for people who had been so kind to her.
But it also made her think of Soren, saying with a frown, information is your first weapon and your first shield. The more you know about a battle going in, the more likely you are to escape with your skin. He had been reading some sorta book, and she had told him that he would get more benefit from sparring with her than from reading a book, and he had snapped that in response.
Soren was a real smart guy. Maybe Mia should take a page out of his book and started doing a little intel-gathering of her own, eh?
“Huh. So y’all think Tibarn and Reyson are together?” she said casually.
“That’s what we were discussing, yes,” Jill said with a frown. “It seems like a strange idea to me…King Tibarn has no shortage of women, being a king, and a rather handsome one at that.”
Mia tried to hide a twitch. “Well. Assuming that Tibarn does, y’know, swing that way–have you considered that he might just not like women, and he might just like men?”
Heather was beaming at her for some reason, and Mia just grinned back, unsure of what she was doing to make Heather smile at her like that. Jill still seemed unconvinced. “But Prince Reyson is so beautiful…maybe Tibarn thinks that…”
“Hmph. King Tibarn is no fool. And laying together makes such misconceptions impossible to continue. If he mates with Reyson, and continues to mate with him, he knows exactly what he is doing.” Lethe yawned.
“I guess you’re right…” Jill said. “I don’t know…it still…”
“That’s cuz you all are still thinking about it in terms of sex,” Mia said bluntly. Jill blushed as bright red as her hair, Nephenee hunkered down and hid her face in her bowl of stew, and even Marcia and Lethe stared at her, eyes wide. Mia shrugged. “When you’re in love with someone, it doesn’t really matter what gender they are–or even what race they are! It shouldn’t matter what society says is right or wrong or normal or weird, when you’re in love, you’re in love.”
“I don’t rightly know if I could fall in love with a woman…” Nephenee said softly.
“I–” Mia bit her tongue to prevent herself from blurting out the wrong name. “...Tibarn could say the same, for all you know. And that’s okay. Some people can fall in love with women, some people can fall in love with men. It’s something new to you, but hey, it’s always a good day to learn something new, right?”
Ilyana finally looked up from her plate. “Traveling with the merchants…I’ve met lots of people…and it’s not as unusual or rare as you might think.” Having thrown in her two cents, Ilyana focused back on her precious, precious food.
Jill was no longer frowning, and Nephenee looked thoughtful. “Well, I guess you’re right. I don’t see much of anything in my little town. I shouldn’t be rightly surprised to learn that there are different folks out there.”
“I was always taught that it was wrong,” Jill said softly. “A man should only lie with a woman.”
“I was too,” Marcia said cheerfully. “But you were also taught that Laguz were inhuman beasts, right? And you and Lethe get along swell now.”
“You know what? You guys are probably right.” Jill sighed, and Marcia beamed at her.
“For what it’s worth, I thought the same way you did. But one of my fellow Knights taught me better.” For some reason, Marcia glanced to the side, as if she were looking for someone in the camp. Mia wondered if the Knight that explained the whole thing to her was in the army. She’d like to shake their hand sometime.
But for now, she got what she wanted. Her friends were all cool, and the ones that didn’t really get it, were getting it now. Mia grinned and brought the conversation back on track. “Heehee…what makes you guys think that Tibarn and Reyson are in love?”
They fell back into easy gossip, and Mia was content to sit back and interject occasionally as the other girls spoke, their conversation rambling off into the night. Eventually, once the fires began to die down, she bid the others good-night and headed off for the tent she shared with Ilyana.
As she left the cluster of fires, Heather appeared out of the darkness. “Hey, Heather,” Mia greeted her with a yawn. “Goodnight.”
Heather was looking at her with an expression Mia didn’t recognize. Then, she leaned over and gave Mia a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Mia.”
As she disappeared off into the night, Mia stared at her retreating back. “...Huh.” She wondered what she did to deserve that. But, hey! She wasn’t complaining!
[Mist]
The mountains of Daein were boring.
It was just rocks, rocks, deadly cliffs, and more rocks.
She was so bored of marching, she was almost nodding off on her pony before she spotted a flash of red. No…as they continued around the curve of the mountain, it resolved itself into a sea of red. Her eyes widened and she straightened up on her pony. The first plants that she’s seen in days!
“Oh, wow…!” Mist hopped off of her pony and tossed the reins to Boyd.
“Mist, where are you going?” Boyd yelled. Others turned to look as Mist ran off of the path, tumbling down the small slope.
“I’m not going far! Just to those flowers!” Mist called back.
She could see Ike looking at her, but she ignored her brother and the other stares as she ran into the field of red flowers. She bent down at the waist to get a closer look. They were small, curled red flowers growing on smooth, dark green vines, and there were so many of them.
“It’s been a while since I saw a wild mountain rose.”
Mist glanced over her shoulder. Jill had landed near her and dismounted her wyvern, walking over. With her red armor and red hair, she looked like one with the flowers.
“What are these called?” Mist asked.
“They call them mountain roses.” Jill smiled, surveying the field. “They’re a popular flower in Daein, because they look like roses but they grow easily, and they don’t have thorns. A lot of farmers plant them near rock walls to harvest and sell, but the wild ones grow on rocks in the mountains like this.”
Mist looked closer. Indeed, the dark green vines of the mountain roses were clinging onto rocks, their roots dug into the rocky, sandy soil.
“They’re lovely…” Mist picked a fat red bloom. It didn’t have any scent at all, unlike a rose, but it was still colorful and vibrant in her hands.
“They’re very…” Jill blushed a little. “In some parts of Daein, they’re considered a good luck charm for…for lovers. You and your lover both tie one around your wrist, and it’s supposed to represent a painless, beautiful love that will bloom even in adversary.”
Mist giggled. “So I ought to pick two, huh?” She paused, pouting. “Oh, but I don’t have anyone to give it to…”
“Well, you can just keep it,” Jill suggested. “They look nice, after all.”
“Mmm…thanks for telling me about them, Jill!” Mist looked down at the sweet red bloom in her hand. As Jill turned back, mounting her wyvern and flying off to rejoin the convoy, Mist thought. She might not have anyone to give this to…but she knew someone who did.
Her stupid brother still hadn’t come clean to her about his and Soren’s relationship. Mist had been waiting and waiting for him to finally stop being a chicken and confess, but the two of them seemed to be content with not talking about it with anyone! They didn’t even hold hands in public, even though they clearly shared Ike’s commander room back at home!
Whatever. Ike didn’t have to tell her if he was fine with keeping the most important even of his life from his own sister. But these flowers…
She smiled, and started to pick a few more.
A few moments later, she had to run to catch up to her horse. The army had marched on, so it took her a few minutes of jogging before she caught up to where most of the Greil Mercenaries were walking.
“What are those?” Boyd asked as she handed him the bouquet of mountain roses she picked, so she would have both hands free to mount her horse.
“Haven’t you ever seen a flower before?” Mist asked. Boyd scowled at her, and she smirked back.
“Of course I’ve seen a flower before, you dolt! But are they really worth running off the road to pick a few? They’ll just die.”
“Yeah, but…they’re just pretty! And it’ll just be nice and cheerful to have around.” Mist glanced over at her brother. Ike was just walking along, Soren by his side as always, not paying attention to her and Boyd’s bickering at all. She sighed to herself as she took the flowers and tucked them into her belt to keep them nearby. There were too many people around…she’d have to keep them until they made camp.
But she could tell him about what she learned to pass the time! “Jill told me about these. They’re called mountain roses! They represent love, because they don’t have thorns, they’re a nice color, and they grow on rocks, which symbolizes love blooming in adversary!”
Boyd scoffed, “Girls!” at her. She was too busy feeling smug about the way both Ike and Soren glanced over at her to respond.
Of course, Soren had to ruin it. “Assigning meaning to flowers is just another way of profiting off of sentiment. You can mark up an object far above its original value by telling people that purchasing it represents good fortune, especially when it comes to romance. The flower itself has no more value than a weed on the side of the road.”
“Sor-ren!” Mist whined.
“Oh, Soren…” Titania sighed. “Sometimes, sentimental value can make something priceless.”
“But that predicates a personal connection to an object,” Soren argued. “There is no value in someone merely telling you that something is worthy of sentiment. I could tell you that a very smooth pebble represents good fortune, and try and sell it to you for one hundred gold, and its only value would be what you are willing to pay for my lies.”
“Soren, that’s enough,” Ike said. Soren fell silent, glaring at the space in front of him. Ike just shook his head. “You’re not wrong, but sometimes you can just look at the flowers and think they’re nice.”
Soren said nothing. Mist really wanted to say something, something along the lines of Jeez, Ike, give Soren some flowers more often, maybe he’ll be less grumpy but they were surrounded by other people, and she wasn’t going to hang her brother out to dry like that. So she stayed quiet, struggling against her sisterly urge to tease Ike with her sisterly urge to protect him.
Finally, they stopped for the evening to set up camp somewhere in the mountains. Mist went about her usual duties–tending to her pony, checking over her things–but while she was setting up her tent, Ike came over. His brow was furrowed slightly as he took the pole from her and thrust it into the ground firmly.
“Thanks, Ike!” Mist said cheerfully. Ike was usually too busy to help her out, and while she was perfectly fine doing it on her own, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth–an extra hand to set up her tent, as well as the chance to have Ike alone for a moment.
“No problem, Mist. Sorry about Soren earlier,” Ike said.
“Huh?” Mist blinked. After such a long day, and years of letting Soren’s sourpuss nature slide, it took her a moment to connect Ike’s apology to Soren’s little rant about sentiment.
“The flower thing…you were sorta quiet afterwards, so I thought he offended you.” Ike rubbed the back of his neck.
“Who are you and what did you do to my brother?” Mist demanded, putting her hands on her hips.
“Huh?” Ike blinked at her.
“You’d never notice something like this!” Mist giggled. “Oh, but you definitely are still Ike, because you’re absolutely wrong–I was just thinking about other things. I know how Soren gets sometimes.”
“Oh. That’s good,” Ike said. He seemed to feel slightly awkward, shifting from foot to foot.
Mist sobered up a little. A brief silence passed between the siblings before she said, “A while ago, Dad told me that Soren acts the way he does because he didn’t get enough love when he was little.” Ike’s eyes went wide, but Mist continued. “And that, even if he’s grumpy or doesn’t want to be near me, I should remember that he’s needs just as much love, if not more, than anyone else does.” Soren…had never been actively rude or mean to her when she was little. He was weirdly quiet, and he never responded to her chatter, but he tolerated her presence much more than he tolerated anyone else’s. But at the time, she didn’t understand why he was so quiet all the time, and she had, as she always did when she was little, gone running to Dad. Over the years, as Mist got to know Soren a little better, she understood that his silence was his way of being kind to her. But she never forgot about Dad’s words.
“Dad was right,” Ike said softly, so softly that Mist knew that Soren had confided some childhood secret to him. She didn’t want to pry, so instead she said,
“Dad was almost always right. So that’s why you should take these!” and she whipped two of the mountain roses out of her belt.
Ike stared at the flowers in her hands. Mist smiled at him. Her brother had never been the most perceptive, but she hoped that he could see and understand what she meant.
I know. I don’t care. I hope your relationship is blessed.
A long moment passed. Then, Ike smiled. “Thanks, Mist. I’ll make sure to give one to him.”
“Heehee…no problem!” Mist giggled. She felt strangely relieved as she and her brother exchanged smiles.
Ike tucked the flowers away, and asked, “Do you need help setting up your tent?”
“No, I can do it! You’re probably really busy,” Mist said cheerfully.
“Yeah…” Ike just sighed, and Mist saw frustration pass over his face before he shook his head. “See you at dinner.”
“Bye!” Mist just watched him go.
At dinner later that night, Mist kept one eye on her brother and Soren. Neither of them behaved any differently–Ike stuffed his face, and Soren frowned and picked at his bread. But at one point during the night, Soren raised his hand, and Mist caught a glimpse of red at his wrist. It made her smile.
***
“Why don’t you just move into my room?” Ike murmured, shaking Soren from his post-coital reviere.
Soren looked up at Ike. “Move into your room?”
“My room is big enough for the two of us, even with all of your books and tomes,” Ike said. His hand stroked through Soren’s hair, lifting up to watch the ink-green locks slip through his fingers like water. “We can use your room for other things. Storage or something.”
Soren’s room always made Ike feel a little sad when he entered. He was lucky enough, as the staff officer and strategist, to not have to share a room with anyone else. But his room was small, windowless and cramped with bookshelves and a desk and a dresser and his bed. It was a poor excuse for a bedroom, no matter how often Soren insists that he is fine with such quarters, that a private space for his use alone was enough of a luxury. And Ike had noticed that Soren much preferred to read, or do his ledgers and work, in the office, which had a window so Soren didn’t have to light a candle during the day.
Ike’s motives weren’t all noble, though. He wanted to wake up next to Soren. He wanted to have their stuff mingled together, his sword next to Soren’s wind tome next to their boots. He wanted to kiss Soren in the mornings and at night. He wanted to lie next to Soren without Soren chickening out and insisting on sneaking back into his room in the wee hours of the morning. He wanted his room to be Soren’s, too.
“My room has a window,” Ike said. “It has a desk and a chair. I spend most of my days in the training grounds anyways, so if you want some privacy you can hide in here. And it’ll be nice, sleeping together.”
“Ike.” Soren’s voice came out as a sigh, a I-love-you-but-you’re-being-ridiculous sigh. “We can’t. People would notice if I suddenly moved all of my things into your room.”
“The mercenaries would notice,” Ike said. “No one else is allowed near our private quarters.”
“And what would happen then?” Soren pushed himself up with his hands on Ike’s bare chest to look at him. “The others would know, Ike. They may decide that you’re unworthy of trust, or attempt to blackmail you by threatening to tell the public of the truth of the Hero of Crimea.”
“They may. But they’ve already followed me into the fires of hell, and won a war by trusting me.” Ike wrapped his hand around Soren’s thin wrist. “And I trust them. I don’t think any of them would threaten their livelihood by blackmailing me. They’re as close as family.”
“They’re heroes in their own right,” Soren said darkly. “Any of them could choose to leave, and they’ll gladly be snapped up by the Crimean Royal Knights or another mercenary company.”
“Yet when I abandoned my title and left the capital, they all came with us,” Ike said. A small smile played across his face. “Even though you made it very clear that they would be losing lots of money and respect by doing so.” Thinking of that little speech of Soren’s always brought a smile to Ike’s face, because it reminded him that Soren chose him. Chose to trust him and be with him every day. He tugged on Soren’s wrist, undermining his posture so that Soren flopped down onto his chest again. Ike gave him a hug around the waist. “Besides that, do you have any other reason to say no? Like…maybe you don’t want to?”
Soren was silent for a long moment, his face hidden in Ike’s chest. Ike remained quiet, patiently petting Soren’s back, feeling every vertebrae under his fingers. Finally, Soren said, his voice slightly muffled, “I…I do want to.”
“Then move into my room.” Ike pressed a kiss to his hair. “If there’s any trouble, we’ll deal with it together.”
“This is a foolish, sentimental, ridiculous idea,” Soren said. But he sighed. Ike smiled as he felt his warm breath against his chest. “Very well. Tomorrow I will start moving my things.”
“Great,” Ike said. And when Soren glanced up at him, he kissed him on the forehead.