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“You’re tired, Ike. You need rest. Go find a cot somewhere. When you’re not feeling well, your left eye twitches.”
“There’s no need to be worried, they’ll be fine. Hm? You’ve got that furrow in your brow again, you only do that when you’re worrying about something going wrong.”
“Stop laughing at me. I know you are. You’ve got those creases that always come out when you’re laughing.”
Until Soren had mentioned seeing that he was tired as though it was an obvious detail to take notice of, Ike had never thought much of the expressions he or others made, not that deeply anyway. Like of course he was aware of the easily apparent ones, it wasn’t as though he was entirely unaware of how a smile could be both warm and cutting, how a frown might mean discontent or focus, but the idea that little tics too small for anyone to see unless they looked more closely could convey things that meant more than he’d thought of was a new thing to consider.
There hadn’t been so much time during the war to put his mind to this new interest, although he’d done his best anyway in the limited time he’d had to think, when there weren’t other things weighing on his mind. Soren had always had a sense of understanding people in a deeper way than most, even if he held himself distant from all of them. It almost reminded Ike of the herons and their abilities to look into the hearts of others, but not quite the same. He didn’t quite get exactly what they meant, but for Reyson, it seemed to be a more literal thing, he could read hearts the same way someone read a book and understood their deepest secrets. With Soren, it seemed more like he studied everything he saw until it came to have meanings no one but him could see.
At the time he learned of this skill of Soren’s, it hadn’t occurred to him that it might be more than a useful skill he had never considered before. Neither of them had known of Soren’s heritage then, and after they had found out, Soren hadn’t wanted to talk about it beyond explaining what being Branded even was. There were things Ike wondered when looking at him sometimes, if he ever wanted to know more than he did, if there were things that his heritage had given him that were a boon rather than a burden, but he got the sense that bringing it up wouldn’t be welcome any time soon. Some things were going to remain a mystery no matter how curious he was about them, he wasn’t going to make Soren upset again by pressing him on things that didn’t really matter just for the sake of his own curiosity.
Still, before they’d found out about everything else, Ike had decided that he wanted to understand people at a glance the way Soren understood him, see what they needed before it broke them down or hurt them beneath the weight of it. More specifically, he wanted to understand Soren that way. Over the course of the war, unknowing at the time of the things that made Soren miserable and snappish through their months in Begnion and Daein, why the things Ike had thought were good had left him with shadows in his eyes and a grim twist to his mouth, Ike had been slowly memorizing the little things that he noticed, each tiny expression that no one else might have noticed.
With that had come the unexpected realization that he thought he might have been able to spend the rest of his life looking at Soren and always find the sight of raven hair that glimmered green in the brightest sunlight and brilliant red eyes appealing, always want to know the things on Soren’s mind however silly or inane Soren claimed them to be. It felt different than the bards or stories claimed it to be, it wasn’t full of fire or despair or anything, it just came as a calm realization that he might be in love with his best friend, the one person he always wanted to be at his side.
He still hadn’t managed to convey the depth of this emotion in his heart to Soren yet, there hadn’t been time and space that had felt right for that conversation, even though he’d been looking for it. Since the end of the war and returning to their work, there had been too many ghosts to banish and scars to bandage over. Sometimes it felt as though it would be years before the scars of war left the land and the hearts of those around them. It certainly made finding space for a conversation he wasn’t sure how to begin that much more difficult.
All of this was to say that with his recent attempts to do what Soren seemed to be able to do so easily and pick out the concealed emotions from the subtle lines of his face, it meant that for once, for once, he was able to see the first signs of Soren feeling unwell long before he was unable to conceal it.
It was on a summer day, unexpectedly, that this patience paid off. He thought he might have needed to wait for winter and the quiet that came with the snow before he would get to see if he really was beginning to see the things that Soren seemed to be able to glean so easily at a glance. They were in the middle of a meeting with Titania, deciding how to best divvy up the jobs waiting for them and which ones had the most pressing urgency when he noticed it. There was something in Soren’s bearing, a tension in his jaw and his eyes that nevertheless was not reflected in his voice as he tapped a spot on the map of Crimea laid out on his desk. “I suspect that the bandits troubling the supply caravans between Gallia and Crimea along this road are using this chokepoint to make up for small numbers and flawed weaponry,” he said smoothly, his voice as even as ever when it came to business. “While no doubt they would have the advantage against travelers unfamiliar with the area, I doubt that many of us would be needed to clear them out.”
“Yes, that makes sense,” Titania said, a faint smile on her face. “I believe Shinon and I could handle this one well with just the two of us, they would be less likely to notice a smaller group. We can use the terrain as they are against the caravans, they would be similarly unable to escape easily if we can trap them in the pass.”
“Are you sure you won’t want a healer along?” Ike asked, frowning at her briefly. While Shinon and Titania were two of their most seasoned fighters and had paired up similarly during busy times, they weren’t spread so thin that they couldn’t take Mist with them if they wanted. Since the war, his sister had stepped up into working with them as a full fledged member of the mercenaries, and while he didn’t love letting her go on missions without him along as well, he knew that Titania would keep her safe no matter what.
“I think we should be fine,” Titania said with a knowing smile. “Truly, we’d rather have as few people as possible on this one. Shinon and I will be enough.”
“Indeed,” Soren said, setting aside a tattered piece of paper that no doubt held the request for that particular job on it before picking up the next one. His eyebrows twitched very faintly as he read over the request for aid silently, something that Ike only had ever noticed him doing when his head was bothering him, but before he could interrupt, Soren set the note down and looked at them. “There is a request for aid in helping strengthen a bridge in Ordon Village, apparently heavy floods this spring washed away much of the supporting ground and they’re afraid that it’ll collapse next fall when the rains return.” His voice grew slightly drier as he spoke. “There is an added request that General Ike attend this personally, since surely he would be capable of determining when this bridge is safely reinforced.”
Titania snorted and Ike rolled his eyes. “Why do they think I know how to repair a bridge?” he asked somewhat plaintively. “What about me makes them so sure that I would be useful beyond carrying around planks to wherever they tell me to put them.”
“Well, were you an experienced general before you were given command of the Crimean Liberation army?” Titania said lightly, a faint teasing tone entering her voice. “There is some basis for you being able to take on challenges you did not expect.”
Soren’s eyes narrowed in amusement - Ike was pretty sure it was amusement anyway, though there was room for it to also be part of his headache. “Yeah, because I had you two to rely on,” Ike retorted. “And Queen Elincia and General Tanith and everyone else who kept giving me advice the whole time. I think that’s a little different than just going out and becoming a general by myself. Or a bridge builder.”
“Is it?” Titania said with a smile, no longer bothering to hide her amusement. “Gatrie and I have both assisted in repairing bridges before, as has Oscar during his time with the Crimean Knights. Surely that’s enough people with prior experience you could rely on to become a master bridge builder.”
Ike frowned at her. Soren cleared his throat slightly. “Regardless of Ike’s potential status as a bridge builder, I would presume the largest challenge with this task is time and experience with the situation. It will likely take whoever goes out there several days to finish the job. I would advise against sending more than one of the three of us out there, or more than three people in general. Any more and we will be spread too thin.”
Ike glanced down at the note personally requesting his intervention and frowned at it. Even without Soren’s concealed headache on his mind, he wouldn’t have wanted to go. There was something about the request that vaguely reminded him of the shopkeeper from the war, which was enough to leave him on edge on its own. “Titania, what do you think?”
Titania hummed thoughtfully. “Two people should be enough, I would think. The villagers would no doubt be able to help with some direction, what they’re lacking in is familiarity with the work at hand.”
“How about just Gatrie and Oscar then?” Ike suggested, glancing over at Soren again. While neither of them were yet committed to a job and he trusted Soren and Titania to run the Greil Mercenaries as he would want in his absence, the tension in Soren’s jaw for some reason was giving Ike the feeling that he wanted both him and Soren to stay near home for now. “They both have the experience and neither of them are marked for either of the other remaining jobs. I’m sure Mia, Boyd and Rhys would be enough for the pirates up north, or Rolf could take Oscar’s place if you two would like one more to go along.”
“Yes, they probably would,” Titania said. “Which leaves you, Soren and Mist for anything else that crops up closer to home.”
“Good,” Ike said. He wasn’t sure yet what else Soren might be trying to hide besides a headache, but keeping them both at home for longer would give him the time he needed to look for any other signs without anyone else getting in the way. “Then I think we’re settled for today.”
“Yes, I agree, Commander,” Titania said with a smile. “I have no further suggestions, at least.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take Oscar’s place?” Soren interjected, faint lines of confusion on his face. “I would be just as useful a combatant, and more seasoned than Rolf is.”
Ike shook his head. “They’ll be fine as they are. It’s just pirates, Rolf can get some experience there. I don’t see any reason why either one of us would need to go along.”
The furrow in Soren’s brow deepened. He didn’t protest further, but Ike could see that he’d picked up that there was something on Ike’s mind, which meant that once it was the two of them, he’d definitely start prying into whatever it was. Which was fine, it meant that Ike would in turn get the chance to check in on him and make sure that everything was okay.
“I have no further comments either,” Soren said at last. “Shall we conclude for the day?”
“In a minute,” Ike said.
Titania looked between the two of them for a moment before standing up, a wry smile pulling at her lips. “I’ll go let the others know what their jobs are and collect Shinon,” she said, excusing herself from the situation politely. “Would you like me to shut the door?”
“Thanks, Titania,” Ike said. “We won’t be long.”
Once the door shut firmly behind her, Soren immediately gave Ike a piercing look, one that might have intimidated others that weren’t used to his brilliant red eyes. “Is everything all right? You usually don’t keep both of us off of missions.”
“That depends,” Ike said, walking over to put his hand on Soren’s forehead, checking for any signs of fever. His forehead felt very slightly warm to the touch, increasing slightly under Ike’s hand, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Not necessarily a fever then, but he was still frowning. Something was definitely bothering him, which meant that Ike was bothered too.
“Ike?”
“You’re a little warm,” he explained, moving his hand just enough that he could see Soren’s face a little better. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Are you?” Soren asked, looking up at him with a perturbed expression. His cheeks had gone a very faint pink, but it was hard to tell if it was for any specific reason. Soren often got a little flustered when someone was asking after his well being, especially if it was Ike checking in. It was still a little charming, but Ike could no longer shake the suspicion that some of it came from his upbringing as well, how Soren had been taught that no one else would look out for him if something was bothering him. “I’m fine, why do you ask?”
His voice more or less sounded normal, but there was still the slightest off sound to it. Ike couldn’t place exactly what it was, but he knew it was there.
Ike huffed lightly. “Well there’s something bothering you, anyway. You’ve been making that face the whole time you’ve been in here.”
“What face?” Soren asked, not trying to move away from Ike’s touch any longer.
“The one you’re making right now,” Ike said. “The one you only make when you have a headache. It’s been bothering you the whole meeting, hasn’t it?”
“Oh.” Soren said. He was quiet for a few moments before the color in his cheeks deepened slightly. “I… hadn’t noticed. I suppose I do have a slight headache,” he admitted.
Ike could feel his brows twitch under his palm, tickling the skin slightly. “
“I’ll be fine, really. It’s just a headache,” Soren protested. “It’s been really warm recently, the heat is just getting to me a bit. Sometimes that happens, it’s never anything to be concerned about.”
Ike considered it for a moment. Usually Soren was more negatively impacted by the cold than the heat, but there had been times in the past around the height of summer where it had been too hot for them to work that Soren had privately complained about a headache to him. It hadn’t been quite that hot yet, but it did make a certain amount of sense that maybe he was noticing things that usually didn’t bother Soren enough for him to bring them to Ike’s attention.
That had been what he’d been wanting to see, the things that Soren didn’t say. Even if it was something as mild as a headache, he still wanted to know.
Ike lowered his hand. “Just tell me if anything changes, then,” he said. “And don’t overdo it. We’re not so stretched thin that you can’t rest if you need to.”
The corner of Soren’s mouth twitched, maybe a smile, maybe something else. “Okay, Ike. I won’t.”
After their conversation, Soren went with only a token protest to make some tea for his headache, privately teasing Ike that only he would make Soren drink something hot when it was already too warm outside anyway, but it had the desired effect of chasing away the faint wince on his face and leaving him visibly relieved to Ike’s eyes. The other mercenaries left for their jobs, with Rolf being openly excited that he was being allowed to take part in one of the more exciting missions this time, and the keep went the sort of quiet that meant anyone still around was waiting for everyone else to come home.
Before they went to bed that night, Ike took a few minutes to look over Soren while he was taking advantage of their quiet time to mend a small snag in one of his robes, something that he’d been practicing since the end of the war. This time, though his brows were drawn together again, Ike could see nothing but focus and painstaking concentration as he carefully pulled the needle through the thick wool of his violet outer robe.
If there was any sign of something else, Ike couldn’t see it any longer. Soren seemed fine, content in his work and amused when he looked over and caught Ike watching him again. “I told you I’m fine, didn’t I?” he asked calmly, setting down his sewing on his lap. “You don’t need to keep fussing.”
Ike made a sound in his throat. Soren snorted.
“I’ll keep doing whatever I feel it necessary to do,” Ike said, just a little mulishly. It wasn’t as if Soren expected anything else out of him. They’d known each other too long for him to be confused on that part.
“I know,” Soren said, looking back down at his work again. There was no admonishment in his voice, only a sort of fondness. “It really was just a headache.”
Ike looked at him again. Now that the evening had settled in and the heat of the day had passed, Soren really did look more relaxed, more comfortable. The things that Ike had noticed earlier hadn’t been just in the furrow in his brow, but also in the tension in his shoulders and the way he held the pen.
Now all of those things had eased. Ike couldn’t spot a single detail that suggested that Soren was trying to hide anything now.
“Well, just tell me if that changes,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’m going to head to bed.”
Soren hummed softly in acknowledgment. “Planning to sleep in again?”
“Would you expect anything else from me?”
Soren shook his head lightly. His eyes were warm in the candlelight, the corners of his mouth curved up in a gentle smile. “See you in the morning, Ike.” he said, returning to his mending.
“See you in the morning,” Ike said, lingering just a little longer to watch the quick flicker of the needle and Soren’s quiet patience as he continued to master this new skill before finally retiring to his room.
As Ike got ready for bed, he rethought through all of his instincts that Soren might have not been feeling well. As much as his instincts had carried him through battles and leadership and challenges he’d had no idea how to deal with until they were at his feet, they were not always completely right. It was plenty likely that Soren was right, that it was just a headache brought on by the heat and easily taken care of, and that tomorrow would be an ordinary, uneventful day.
Those thoughts had easily comforted him to sleep, that he could be wrong and that Soren would be fine in the morning. It was the case often enough that he didn’t need to worry any further.
However, the minute he saw Soren the next morning, he knew he had been right the first time. Gone was the easy grace of the previous night, to be replaced with a stronger furrow to his brow, a tension in his hands and a sort of displeased look that grew stronger the minute Ike looked at him, one that was both stubborn and not quite ready to admit that perhaps Ike had been right to fuss this time. His cheeks were flushed again, the fever Ike had been searching for the previous day having bloomed into existence overnight.
He looked sick, noticeable to anyone who happened to pass by, not just Ike. His whole body screamed that it needed to rest and not be pushed further, that Ike was right to have kept him at home instead of letting him go off to fight pirates or help build a bridge, and that by all means Soren should not be allowed to keep pushing himself further.
Sadly, as their eyes met, Ike could just as easily see that Soren currently had no intentions of doing that. His red eyes were no duller for his fever, and promised that Ike would have a difficult time convincing him to go to bed without a good enough reason.
Somehow, it wasn’t a surprise. At least this time, this little dance of theirs would only be possibly witnessed by Mist, who would roll her eyes at them at worst.
Ike waited a moment to see if Soren planned to say anything to start with, arms crossed over his chest.
Soren opened his mouth, no doubt to protest, but was cut off by a sudden cough that had him putting his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Ike’s frown deepened as Soren caught his breath and straightened back up, as if that could conceal the truth from him.
“Soren,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Go back to bed.”
Soren scowled at him. “It’s not that bad,” he protested. “It’s a cough. I can work around it.”
“Doing what? We finished everything important yesterday,” Ike said, lifting his eyebrows. “There’s no need for you to push yourself. Any other work can wait.”
“I see no reason why-” Soren had to pause in the middle of his protest to stifle another cough. “I see no reason why I would need to set it aside. It’s just accounting, I wouldn’t be straining myself to do it.” He crossed his arms stubbornly in front of his chest, looking up at Ike with his lips pressed together, clearly unwilling to give in just yet.
Ike met his gaze squarely, similarly unwilling to give in on this matter. More than anything else, Soren needed to rest. Sure, he was right that accounting wouldn’t be too rough on him, but he still would be up and moving about when actually lying down and resting would make him feel better soon. He’d seen this play out multiple times before, Soren stubbornly pushing himself to work even at light tasks and ending up remaining sick longer than anyone else because he wouldn’t let himself rest when there was something that needed to be done. His core of iron always seemed to come out at its strongest when he was privately worrying about making sure that everything was dealt with so that no one could suggest that he didn’t have a place in the Greil Mercenaries.
Which was silly because everyone including Soren knew that there was no way Ike would ever dismiss him or allow anyone to suggest that it be an option, but that had yet to stop Soren from attempting to prove himself anyway.
As long as it mattered to him, Soren would hold fast no matter what anyone else said, no matter the odds or the impossibility of the feat before him. His will of iron was admirable, necessary, even. Ike wasn’t sure if any of them would have survived and emerged victorious in the war against Daein if not for that core of steel that refused to bend no matter what came to meet it.
However, at the moment, it was proving to be mildly irritating.
“Be that as it may, you’re far too important to me to push yourself like this, especially when it doesn’t need to be done,” Ike said firmly. “Neither of us have anything that has to be done, so go and rest.”
Soren’s flushed cheeks went darker still, his arguments dying on his lips. Ike watched him intently, the little hitch to his shoulders as he tried to suppress another cough. Even if he continued to protest, there was no way he could keep Ike from seeing and worrying.
Soren probably already knew that. Just as Ike knew him well enough to see what he saw now, Soren could still read Ike better than anyone.
He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping more visibly now that he wasn’t trying to pretend he felt better than he did. “Fine,” he said, sounding tired. “I guess the accounting can wait for a day, until the others come back, if you really want me to.”
“I do really want you to,” Ike said. “You’re sick. Go lie down. I’m not going to move until you do.”
Soren sighed again, looking both sick and resigned to his fate. “Very well,” he said, covering another cough politely. “Since there’s nothing else pressing left to take care of, I suppose I can lie down for a bit.”
“And if something does come up, I’ll take care of it,” Ike said. “So don’t worry any more.”
Soren smiled wryly at him. “I don’t think I’m the one worrying incessantly here,” he said, amusement briefly flickering in his eyes. “It’s a summer cold at worst.”
“Even so, I don’t want you working right now,” Ike said. “If you don’t go to bed, then I’ll put you in there myself.”
It wasn’t an idle threat. He really would if he had to. Soren looked as though he wanted to laugh, but a brief coughing fit stopped that in its tracks. “You probably shouldn’t do that,” he said somewhat ruefully. “Or you’ll get this too.”
“I don’t care. If I get sick, I get sick. You can fuss over me then,” Ike said soothingly. “I’ll make you some tea, so go lie down, I’ll be back soon.”
Soren nodded, finally giving in, though the subsequent coughing fit might have done it as much as Ike’s insistence had. Ike waited until he’d gone back into his room before heading for the kitchen to make him some tea as promised.
The kitchen fire had completely gone out overnight, not a surprise with Rhys, Oscar and Titania away, but Ike was able to get it going again quickly and hang the kettle on the long, iron hook in the hearth. While he waited for the water to boil, he found that Mist had washed their cups after he and Soren had gone to bed the previous night, collected Soren’s mug and the tea pot and the leaf blend Rhys made for colds.
Mist came in the room as he worked, rubbing at one eye tiredly. “Good morning, Ike,” she said, coming over to look at his little collection of things. “Is everything okay? Why are you making tea so early?”
Ike, remembering many previous scoldings from when he had not done that, took the time to cover his hands with the special knitted mitt Titania had made for the kitchen before picking up the pot. “Soren’s come down with a cold,” he said. “I ordered him to go back to bed.”
“Oh,” Mist said, yawning again. “I was wondering why the two of you were arguing in the hallway this morning. I was going to ask if we had a job today after all.”
Ike shook his head. “Not if I can help it,” he said, making Mist giggle. “If anyone shows up, I’ll tell them to come back tomorrow.”
“I’m sure Soren would have something to say about that,” Mist said, briefly leaning against him affectionately before backing away so he could get back to what he’d been doing before. “I’ll make some soup for us today then, it’s not so hot that we can’t have something nice.”
Ike smiled at her. Of all the others who could have been around, he was glad that Mist was the one who had ended up staying behind with him and Soren. “Let me know if you need help with any of that,” he said, collecting Soren’s cup and the tea pot. “And don’t burn the soup this time.”
Mist let out a squawk of indignation as he walked away. “I haven’t done that in years!” she protested as he walked out of the room. “Ike, you’re so mean!”
Ike shook his head in amusement, but he knew she meant it as seriously as he’d meant his little jibe. He carefully balanced Soren’s mug in the crook of his arm as he knocked twice and waited for Soren’s acknowledgement before entering.
In the time it had taken Ike to start the fire again and boil water, Soren had undone his ponytail and taken off his boots, though he was still in his robes, and was sitting on his bed, looking off into the corner of the room in concentration as he tied his hair back into a neat braid that he once had told Ike kept it from tangling in his sleep. Ike couldn’t help watching him deftly weaving long, dark locks into a simple braid for a few seconds, momentarily distracted by thoughts of how Soren’s hair might feel in his fingers instead.
Such thoughts were very nice ones to entertain, but Ike shook himself free of them after a moment before Soren could notice his distraction, bringing the tea over and setting it on the small table next to his bed.
Soren glanced up at him as he finished tying his braid off with a loop of ribbon, still vaguely flushed. Ike was pretty sure it was the fever, but he wanted to check more closely anyway. “Thank you, Ike,” Soren said, sounding more relaxed than he had earlier. It was both a relief and vaguely concerning, he was glad that Soren was listening to him rather than trying to stubbornly soldier onward and ignore all signs that he needed to rest, but him giving in so easily made Ike wonder if he still was feeling worse than he’d let on.
Or maybe he’d just decided that he wasn’t going to win this particular battle and had given in more peaceably. That was a possibility too. Soren did yield to him where he would have held fast against anyone else.
“Mist is going to make soup as well,” Ike said, sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed. “She says it shouldn’t be too hot for it.”
Soren made a light, disagreeing sound in his throat. “If she says so,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You may want to avoid the kitchen for the day, then. It’ll be very hot around midday.”
“Duly noted,” Ike said. “I’ll just go in when she’s done cooking to get some for you, so that you can stay in bed today.”
The flush on Soren’s cheeks grew slightly. “Are you planning on checking in to make sure I don’t get up, Commander? I do follow orders when given them,” he asked, smiling a little. His eyes were warmer than before, the words were only teasing.
“Yes,” Ike said more seriously, reaching up and putting his hand on Soren’s forehead again. He was definitely still warm to the touch, enough so that Ike could notice it even through the leather bracer on his wrist. “You’re too warm. I don’t want you getting up till your fever goes away.”
Soren moved out from under his hand, eyes narrowing. “Yes, Ike, I am aware, you don’t have to tell me again,” he said, sounding vaguely irritated before softening again. “I’ll try and sleep after I finish my tea, you don’t need to worry.”
Ike didn’t take his tone personally, he knew that it wasn’t Ike that Soren was irritated by, just the situation. He wouldn’t pry, not into this, but he suspected that some of it came from a childhood where no one had ever cared if he was sick or hurting, forcing him to hide away any weakness and protect himself with a shell of ice and sharp words.
But that was all in the past now. He didn’t have to hide anymore, Ike would take care of him for the rest of his days, no matter how sharp his tongue was.
Hopefully someday soon he would be able to convince him of that.
Satisfied with his hair for the moment and slightly less flushed now that Ike was no longer touching his face, Soren turned to pour himself some tea, supporting it carefully with both hands rather than using one the way Ike might have.
It was that care and the slight slump of his shoulders that clued Ike in further to Soren’s current state. While he had been energetic enough earlier, standing in front of Ike and ready to convince him that he was well enough to work at his usual standards, now that he wasn’t trying to present a strong face, Ike could see that he really was tired, maybe even more so than Soren himself realized.
Ike wasn’t sure if he would have noticed if Soren hadn’t turned away from him. As much as he’d learned since the day he’d decided he wanted to know more, there was still so much he had yet to learn.
He’d have to keep getting better in the future. Soren deserved nothing less than his best.
But first, he needed Soren to get better, and he could only do that if he actually slept, rather than stay up because Ike was taking up all of his attention. Resisting the temptation to do something too forward like stroke his cheek or kiss him on the forehead, there would be time enough for that once Soren was feeling better and they’d had a chance to talk properly, Ike instead rose to his feet. “You won’t go to sleep if I’m hovering over you,” he said when Soren looked up at him. “If you need me for anything, I’ll be somewhere in the keep. Mist will be around too.”
Soren really did smile then. “Okay, Ike,” he said, picking up his mug with both hands and holding it in front of his face so the steam rose up into his nose. “See you later.”
Ike smiled. “See you later,” he said, leaving Soren’s side so he could properly rest before he could come up with another reason to linger.
If Soren wanted him to, he thought he really could stay right there all day, watching over him while he slept. Ike was not usually given to stillness, not when he was awake anyway, but there was something about all the feelings that Soren inspired in him that made him feel as though he could do anything, no matter how out of character it might seem to anyone around them.
Ike would give him the world if he wanted it. All Soren had to do was ask.
He would wait a thousand years for him.
He leaned on the wall just outside Soren’s door for a moment, pressing down the surge of protective, almost possessive feelings that made him want to go back into Soren’s room and sit vigil, watching over him until his fever broke. Today was not the day for them, but just as Soren could look at Ike and see his every secret written on his face, Ike could see that the day where he could finally give voice to those feelings and have them returned was not far away.
Just as the spring ever followed the winter, no matter how harsh it seemed, he could believe in that day too.