Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

After packing the last of the shirts he plans to take with him, Ike looks around his room, taking notice of all the things being left behind. It feels strange, having enough possessions that they make a tangible difference in his surroundings despite what he's already packed, even with him carrying more than what he'd like at his mother's insistence. 

There's something about leaving a mark of the person he's been for the past eighteen years in this place that makes his chest feel tight. He can't quite put into words why that particular detail has stood out to him; it's a mixture of things, of which the depth is difficult to capture. 

The first time he left home, his room hadn't been left bare, but it'd been close to it. His family knew he put little stock on material things, and the possessions he'd accumulated since they burnt their home at the beginning of the Mad King’s War hadn't amounted to much. 

This room couldn't be more different. There are clothes still on the drawers, most of them given to him by his mother, who had a tendency to fuss about him having too little if left to his own devices. A pair of wooden swords, clumsily carved when he'd been younger, were leaning against a shelf, where a small collection of books also resided. Ike had never been an avid reader – he read slowly, and easily grew bored with complex texts – but he'd acquired a small collection over the years during his quest to learn more about the world outside their small town. 

While they aren't many in number, there's a couple of miscellaneous items too: a few framed drawings his brother had given him over the years, illustrating scenes from a different life of adventures; a stained apron hanging carelessly from the back of a chair; a stick figure drawing badly carved in the frame of his bed of two men standing together, a mage and a swordsman. 

It's still not a lot. His family had caught onto his disregard for material items early on, and though his mother liked to nag him about it, neither she nor his father pushed him much when it came to his preferences. Well, his father had tried, once upon a time, to inspire an interest in baking on him. He'd given up, however, when he realized that for all that Ike loved their small town, he was far too determined to find his fate outside of it to stay in their bakery, at least for now.

Perhaps he would enjoy that one day, he thought, after reuniting with his husband. But only then, and only if his husband would like that too. 

Having said his farewell to his room, Ike adjusts his belongings on his back and takes his leave. He's never enjoyed lingering too much on these sorts of feelings, especially when he has so much to look forward to. 

Still, he does take his time to pay his respects to the rest of the house in a similar manner. He says goodbye to the fading markers of his and his brother's heights his father had drawn in the kitchen, to the loose floorboard where he'd hidden a toy years ago that Hugo had yet to find, to the rug nearby the set of chairs in the corner his parents used for reading where he and his brother had fallen asleep many a time.

They're all memories he'll treasure more than they are physical keepsakes. He's sure they will be with him on his travels, keeping his heart warm just as the memories from the first family he's had continue to do. 

It's early enough in the morning that his family can be found at the connected bakery’s kitchen, preparing for the day. Ike follows the sound of their voices and the thumping noises of bread hitting the counter with ease. His instinct says that he should be there, too, helping with the daily load. But the time for him to leave that life behind has come, at least for now. 

For a moment, Ike doesn't say anything, happy to lean against the doorway and commit the picture his mother, father, and brother make while working side by side to his mind. His father's blue hair was dotted in white specks of flour, as he'd never grown out of the habit of running his hands through it when they were free; his mother was neater in everything but her apron; and his brother, Hugo, was amusingly enough somewhere in between, not too messy, yet not too tidy either, a balance between their parents extremes. 

“Hello,” he says softly, not wanting to break the quiet of the early hour so soon. “Do you need help with the morning prep before I leave?”

“Teo!” his father exclaims, nearly drowning out his brother's softer greeting, “We could use the help, if you'd like to stick around for a while longer. A few years maybe, what do you think” His teasing words are punctuated with a grin as he shrugs the flour out of his hands. 

“Go wash those before you get us all with hair as white as yours,” his mother bites at him, though there's no real heat in her words. Ausngly, she only wipes her own hands on her apron as she crosses the distance between her and Ike. To him, she says, “Are you all ready to go?”

“I am,” he nods resolutely. He's been ready for years now, ever since he remembered there was someone out there waiting for him. 

His mother runs her eyes over the pack on his back anxiously. “Are you sure you’re taking enough with you, Teo? That seems like so little when you’ll be away for so long…”

“I’ll be fine, mother.” Ike smiles. “Anything else I need I’ll be able to get on the road.”

“Speaking so confidently you’d think you’ve been on thousands of travels before,” his father snorts, patting him on the shoulder. “You do know that hearing stories from old Anna’s travels doesn’t count as experience, right?”

I do know, he thinks, with no little amusement. 

It’s a pity that he can’t tell them quite just yet that he has been on more travels than he can count. It came with being a mercenary from youth, and even more so with his later journey with Soren. By the end of his life, he felt like they’d been just about everywhere, though he also intimately knew how untrue that statement was. There were always more places to know; leaving Tellius had more than showed him that.

As it is, he’s thankful that he can use the friendship he struck with their old neighbor Anna as a child to justify most of the knowledge he lets slip. The old traveler had told him many stories or her adventures with her friends, and in turn Ike had told her some of his own under the guise of a child's daydreams. He sometimes thinks that she knows there's some truth to them, but she's never commented and he has no plans to bring it up on his own.

“I know,” Ike tells his father. “But packing lightly seems like good advice. I'll be moving around a lot, so having too much would drag me down.”

Besides, their kingdom and the ones beyond have flourished in the hundred and a half years he was gone. He can’t imagine it’ll be more difficult to travel now than it was back then; the more resources there are, the less he should need to carry with him.

He's about to explain that line of thought when Hugo decides to join the conversation, calling from where he's just set his work aside, “Let our little old man be, Father! With the way he is, I bet he's somehow actually thought of everything.”

“Not so little anymore!” he calls back instinctively. 

Although, he's always been too amused at his family's teasing him for being an old soul to truly protest it, so that isn't what he focuses on. They have no idea how correct they are on this assessment, mostly because he's had no wish to tell them. 

He doesn't want to keep the secret forever by any means, – he's cherished his life as Teo enough that it would feel wrong to hide such a large part of himself forever, but there are definitely a couple of someone's he'd like to meet before revealing everything to his family. 

“Ah, yes, how could I forget? Our Teo knows everything,” his father laughs. 

“Not everything, ” Ike protests; only to add, cheekily, “Just a lot more than I should.”

That earns him a hair ruffle from Hugo, who cheerfully calls him a menace before passing right through him and into their house with a warning for Ike to wait for him. Their mother sighs at their antics, but is soon to return to her fussing over his plans, meanwhile their father only laughs even as he helps her. 

There’s something terribly amusing to Ike about standing here and allowing his second set of parents to fret over him when he knows that if he had truly been eighteen, he wouldn't have been able to weather this so patiently. It's been a very long time now since the incessant requests he’d made for his father to allow him to join the company as a proper mercenary, yet he still remembers that time well. He’d been far from patient with most things during his true teenage years.

Sometimes he thinks his father must be laughing at him from somewhere, if his soul hasn't rejoined the world already. Even then it's possible that Greil would find himself randomly taken with amusement at this new reality where Ike is a patient son. He truly couldn’t have been further from it. 

Teo, on the other hand, is a drastically more level headed teenager, remaining calm even after his parents have already cajoled him into packing more supplies than he ever usually would. He'll gladly admit that being over a hundred might have something to do with it. 

He's once again saved from his parents by a call from Hugo, this time coming from behind, just outside the doorway. “You're still there, old man?”

“No, I've already left,” he deadpans. 

He has another sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue, however, when he turns to look at his brother the words immediately escape him. The culprit is the large sword in Hugo’s hands, a beautiful weapon that seems to be on par with Ettard in size. Hugo is slowed down by it, carrying it with some difficulty - to no surprise of Ike’s, since his brother has built his strength baking rather than handling heavy weapons. 

Still, he grins at Ike as he walks over, teasing him about his reaction without needing to say anything. “Here,” is what his brother says. “For you.”

For a moment, past and present overlap in his mind, and instead of his brother, he sees a young girl standing there, smiling sweetly at him, light brown hair barely reaching her shoulders. ‘Here! This is for you.’

Then he blinks, and the memory fades, giving way to Hugo's sharp grin, bright as the red hair tied in a bun atop his head and the wings on his back. 

Ike would never try to compare his relationship with Hugo to what he had with Mist. He knows that doing so would serve him no purpose other than to make him upset that Hugo isn't her. Yet it's impossible not to in moments like these. Of all the events from his past life, To be handed a sword by his sibling a second time when leaving home on a mission is a strange rite of passage he'd never thought he'd live through twice. 

Setting his nostalgia aside for the moment, Ike is glad that outside of instances like these, Hugo and Mist couldn't be more different. It makes them easier to set apart, softening the pang of longing that he has for his past despite the fact having a brother at all still reminds him of Mist quite often. 

But that in itself isn't a bad thing. He doesn't regret the life he led, and he's happy to have this second chance. And while he can't deny that he misses his sister – Ike has accepted that he always will. 

“A sword?” Ike echoes his past self. “Where did you get it? It's beautiful.”

It’s with considerable eagerness that Ike takes the sword from Hugo’s hands when his brother offers it to him. Even before taking it from its scabbard he can tell by the even weight that this is a good sword, an assumption which isn’t disproved when he sees the blade itself, which seems to have been made from a nice, strong metal. 

The more he looks at it, the more curious he becomes about where the sword came from. Their town is quite small and while there are a few smiths, their commerce is definitely not focused on weaponry. There is little need for it here, where they hardly see any conflict that would require this type of weapon; it's the whole reason why he'd been waiting to look for a permanent weapon once he left, rather than search for one here.

A distant voice whispers in his ear, ‘From Father. He told me to come and give it to you.’ But what his mother says is: “It’s a gift from all of us. Hugo and I commissioned it when we went on that business trip a few towns over.”

Ike huffs a laugh, amused. “So that’s why you didn’t want me to go.”

He's never doubted that his family cares for him, but with how uninvolved they are with combat, the possibility that they might want to surprise him with a gift like this hadn't even crossed his mind. 

Ike was the one who went after teaching himself how to use a weapon again, introducing them to some of that knowledge through those efforts. Meanwhile his mother, father and brother had always been content with the peaceful life they led as bakers. 

Truth be told, even if he didn't have a second set of memories with him, Ike doesn’t know if he could have been content with that. He's always enjoyed adventure as far as he can remember, so it’s entirely possible leaving home would always be his fate, though perhaps he would have traveled as a merchant or something of the like rather than a mercenary. 

“That and someone needed to stay and help me with the bakery, eh?” His father says, bringing Ike back from his musings. He punctuates his words with a laugh of his own, looking just about ready to ruffle his hair and start a playful fight as he'd often done when Ike was younger.

“Isn’t that Hugo’s job?” Ike teases, though he's also being completely honest. Hugo has always been better suited for the family business, it's where his passion lies, while Ike hasn't ever felt that way, just as Hugo has never been as restless as Ike to see the world outside their town.  “Since he'll get the business, he can handle the store.”

“That doesn't mean you can't help, you brat,” Hugo jumps in, throwing an arm over Ike's shoulder. “Don't think you won't be put to work when you come back.”

Ike smiles. “I wouldn't expect anything less.”

It's a promise of its own, he thinks. Although he can't spend his entire life in this place, he'll come back to this town at some point, when he has Soren by his side. There's no reason to leave this life entirely behind; all he wants to do is unite it with his past. 

They don't have much time before the day begins in earnest and the bakery needs to be opened, so it isn't long until his family walks him outside to say their farewells. 

Ike makes sure to cherish this time with them, knowing it'll be long until he sees them again. He can only hope that, with how the cities have grown and the roads have advanced with them, traveling between kingdoms will have gotten faster than it was a hundred years ago – what old Anna had told him definitely seemed to indicate so – but even then he can't be certain of when he'll be back.

Besides, he has a feeling his journey will take him quite far from their sleepy town of Alamandre. There's so much more outside of Tellius than he and Soren ever imagined when they set out, entire kingdoms worth of people they hadn't known about. It'd made for a lot of exciting adventures as they explored this new world that'd been open to them, yet now it means that when looking for his companion, he won't be lacking in places to search for him. 

Suffice to say that he would need a terribly lucky coincidence to run into his companion soon after setting out.   Ike is certain he's still out there somewhere, it'll merely be difficult to pinpoint where. If Soren's life has remained anything like it'd been when Ike was with him, he'll be long gone from where they were last together. 

Still, no matter how difficult the search, Ike will find Soren. A lifetime ago his companion had battled worse odds to find him; it is now Ike's turn to find his way back to him. 

He has a promise to keep. 

Saying his goodbyes to the Greil Mercenaries was never something Ike thought he would do until the moment was before him.

In a way, even as it was happening, it didn’t quite feel real that he was about to leave his family. He could tell even then that the finality of the choice would only dawn on him sometime after, once time passed and the knowledge that he likely would never be coming back settled in his heart.

Perhaps the setting they'd chosen for their farewell didn't help, though Ike wouldn't have had it any other way. Different from the goodbye he'd have later with a family he did intend to return to one day, the Greil Mercenaries hadn't met him on their doorstep to watch him and Soren leave. No, instead they'd all sat down together for dinner the night before, a large meal specially prepared by Mist and Oscar for the occasion, and spent time with each other, talking about their plans, bringing up old stories, making one last good memory together to keep in their hearts.

One table wasn't enough to fit all of them, which was something they would have usually not cared about. The Greil Mercenaries would often split into smaller groups during mealtimes if they were all present, and given the nature of their work, there was a high likelihood that they wouldn't be. Yet, considering the occasion, Ike and Boyd had pushed two of the dining hall tables together, and Mist had procured a tablecloth big enough to hide the small gap where the tables met and given it the pretense of being one. 

It was something they'd only do a couple of times throughout the year, to celebrate special occasions like birthdays and holidays. It added to the strangeness of the night, Ike thought, although it also made him feel warm to have Soren and Mist by his side, with Rhys, Titania and Boyd in front of them and everyone else close in reach. 

Ike's heart hurt when he took in the picture all of them made together. He would always miss them, he was certain of that even then. It had been difficult to see what he would do without his family by his side.

"This reminds me of something your father told me once, about when he and your mother left their lives behind to live in Gallia. He told me it was undeniably difficult, starting anew, yet the challenge was worth what they gained in the process," Titania had said in response to those worries. "You should not be discouraged if your journey is difficult at first, but I believe you and Soren will find that you feel the same in the end; and if you don't, you know you'll always have a home here to come back to."

"I do know," he said, choosing to smile at the sentiment rather than focusing on how unappealing the idea of coming back felt despite how much he did not want to leave. 

Perhaps, he thought, once some time had passed, he might be able to return. Maybe then his name would have been forgotten enough for Ike to start anew. 

"It is nice to know that my father went through the same thing," Ike continued. And this, he meant. It made him feel closer to his father to put it like that, like he was still following in his footsteps. "If he did it, then so can I."

“Yes you can.” Titania smiled and reached her hand across the table to give Ike's a brief squeeze. It was a little awkward, but told him that she understood what he meant, and that it made her happy as well. 

The warmth between Titania's words was comforting, yet their solemn sincerity left Ike at a loss for what to say next. Instinctively, he found himself looking between Mist and Soren for help, as the two of them had a gift with words he did not possess, and would surely know how to move the conversation along. 

Mist was quick to catch onto his meaning, easily jumping into the conversation with a, "Hey, Ike,” said in a light and teasing tone. "Are you going to change your name like Father did? Can I pick one for you?"

From the corner of his eye, Ike saw Soren scrunching his nose at the idea. It was a slight thing, yet Ike still made note of it. Because it was cute, how at times Soren's mood could be so clear when he thought no one was looking. Ike was often looking.

"No," he replied flatly, to both questions. "There's no need to change my name."

“Aw,” Mist sighed, resting her face on her hand and leaning forward on the table to look at him. "But wouldn't it be fun to pick one?" 

It was the hint of insincerity in her cheer that made Ike choose to play along with this subject rather than push for a new one. His sister had been trying her best to stay in good spirits as the time for him to go neared, the least Ike felt he could do was make it easier for her, especially when she'd come to his rescue. " If I was going to choose a new name," he said, "I'd ask for Soren's opinion first. He's the one who'll have to live with it.”

Soren's expression softened at being included, meanwhile Mist laughed at his reply, though she didn't seem too surprised by it. Just as well, this was not the first time he'd looked to Soren for something like this, nor would it be the last, even if his sister would not be there to see it.

"Of course Soren has to be involved," Mist agreed, smiling all the while. "You shouldn't have a name your husband doesn't like."

The way she said the word husband was casual, without a shadow of doubt despite Ike and Soren never having officialized matters between them. It made him happy to hear it, even though it was a word Ike and Soren seldom used between themselves. 

He wasn't sure why that was, that they were more inclined to call each other companions and confidants than a married couple. Ike wondered if they hadn't grown enough to fit the word yet, or if perhaps what they had was too big to fit it.  Either way, he didn't care to think about it too much. He was certain the answer would come to him one day, and even if it didn't, there was no need to worry about terms of address when he and Soren understood each other's hearts. 

"As if that's possible with these two," Rhys said softly, his eyes light with amusement. 

His words were nearly drowned out by a lively discussion Oscar was having with Mia by his side, yet not entirely, as Soren threw a glare his way in response. Ike wondered if his companion was going to comment on it, but instead, when Soren spoke, he addressed Mist. "There's no need for new names between us."

"Are you sure?" she insisted. Ike could tell that she was doing so purely to poke at him, and he was sure Soren could tell too. He'd been with them for too long not to know intimately the particular type of menace a little sister could be. "Having disguises at hand while traveling seems tactically sound to me, given how famous you both are."

It wasn't too bad of an argument, yet Soren was unrelenting. "We can come up with aliases if they're needed," he conceded, "but they hardly require the same amount of thought as new names would need."

"Well, still! Don't you think you'd be better off thinking of something first? Isn't preparation key with these things?" Mist raised an eyebrow at him, challenging Soren to refute her. 

If he were to laugh, there would be nowhere to hide it from where he was sitting in the middle of their standoff, so Ike struggled to hold it in. Having recognized that Mist had just quoted something Soren had once said to her, he could only wonder what his companion would say next. 

“Besides, if you ever change them, I'd like to know what to listen for to get news,” Mist added. 

Hearing that, Ike couldn't help the pang of longing that ached in his heart. He knew leaving was the right choice for him, Mist did as well, they'd talked about it extensively before he came to that decision. But the one thing she hadn't wanted him to do was leave, and truthfully, half of him still wanted to stay. Not because he believed life would get any better there, but because he was going to miss his family just as they would miss him. 

“Oh Mist…” he breathed out. Unsure of what else to say, he placed an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. 

“It's fine!” Mist hurried to say even as she relaxed into the hug. “I'm fine, I don't want to bring the mood down.” 

Ike squeezed her shoulder once, offering an unspoken comfort rather than words which could only be empty platitudes. Boyd and Titania had turned from their conversation to glance at them, and for a moment Ike thought one of them was going to say something. Yet the silence was broken by Soren's soft voice. “Give me your suggestions. I suppose it can't hurt to be prepared.”

Mist blinked at him, surprised at the return of the subject, then she giggled. “Alright!” she said, with genuine cheer despite the emotion in her voice. “Hm… a name for Ike… How about Isaac?”

“No.” Ike said immediately, earning himself another laugh from his sister. He’d bet it was the reaction she was expecting, too. Mist knew his name had been confused as a nickname for Isaac way too often when they were younger for him to ever choose it. 

It came as no surprise that this was when Boyd joined the conversation. He had to side with Mist, if only to make her smile. “I think it's a perfectly nice name!”

Ike, too, had someone ready to take his side. “You can keep it for yourself then,” Soren said, impassive. 

Never one to back down, Boyd cried out. “Well, maybe I will!“

Ike didn't even bother trying to hide his snort at their antics, neither did Mist. 

When Soren didn't dignify Boyd with a response, they went back to the names with more serious suggestions this time. The rest of the table joined in as well, some more than others, but they were all listening to the debate while going about their own conversations. 

There were some decent suggestions – Ike thought Inigo and Roy were.. alright, though not for him – and some seriously bad ones – he'd initially thought that Chrom was Gatrie’s attempt at a joke, and yet. Still, there was nothing Ike could see himself using, nor anything that had won Soren's approval.

“How about Hector?” Titania tried. “It's not too fancy, is it?” Her words were teasing, but the suggestion was honest, so Ike thought about it. 

“It's not too bad,” he conceded. “But I don't think it's for me.”

“I vote for Dimitri!” Rolf cried out from where he sat farther down the table. “It's a nice name for an adventurer.”

Before Ike could reject it, Oscar intervened. “I wonder if that one would suit Soren more?” 

It was nearly imperceptible, but Soren actually inched closer to Ike then, recoiling in distaste. “I disagree.”

The position made it a little difficult to move his arm, but Ike didn't mind. By this point, he'd already moved his arm from Mist's shoulder, though his sister remained leaning on him, so with the addition of Soren, Ike was starting to feel like he must be a particularly comfortable pillow, at least in these two’s opinion. 

“Mm-hmm…” As if to prove his thoughts right, Mist also leaned further into him as she searched her mind for another suggestion. “What do you think of Raven?”

For the first time since the discussion had started, Ike said the first thing that came to his mind and it wasn't a vehement refusal. “Like Soren's hair?” he mused. “I like that.”

He glanced at Soren, and while he couldn't see his face as clearly as he'd would have liked from their position, he could see the beginning of a blush on his cheeks. Ike couldn't resist placing a hand on the small of Soren's back in response, not helping matters in the least.

“... I  suppose that's a fine name, if you like it,” he muttered. 

He wasn't too attached to the idea, but it was a fine name, and more than that, Ike enjoyed how Soren reacted to it. “Then Raven it is.”

“Yay!” Mist celebrated, and was followed by the rest of the table in varying levels of cheer and a couple of teasing complaints about him and Soren's cheesiness. 

They were quick to move on, however, searching for more names for Soren with renewed enthusiasm now that they'd chosen one for Ike. This time, Ike joined in as well. He wanted Soren to have fun, and he doubted he would accept a name from anyone else. 

“Robin!” Mia exclaimed. “Like the bird! Since you're a wind mage.”

Soren turned to her, inadvertently leaning further into Ike's arm. He couldn't see his expression then, but from his tone alone Ike could imagine his glare. “Not a chance.”

Mia grinned, undeterred, cheerfully slapping him in the shoulder. 

“Hmm, Lucius? It feels like a scholarly name.” Mist suggested. 

“... I don't think so.” Soren looked up to Ike, asking wordlessly what he thought of it. 

“Yeah I don't think it suits you,” he agreed.

Ike somewhat tuned out the conversation outside of backing up Soren whenever he asked for his opinion. He was lost searching his mind for something that would be fitting, that would do Soren justice. Ike was finding that to be quite the challenge, though perhaps it wasn't too surprising, considering words had never been his forte.

In this quest, he arrived at a moment he had with Soren not too long ago. They'd been outside, Soren sat under the shade of a tree and Ike laid on the grass, his head resting on Soren's lap. He'd been aiming to take a nap, but as sleep evaded him, his companion had taken upon himself to read aloud to him. It was something they did sometimes, when Soren's choice of text was something Ike might also enjoy. He wasn't much of a reader, but he appreciated this form of taking in the contents of a book. The words were simply sweeter and more interesting when they came from Soren's mouth. 

It couldn't have been called a conversation, as Ike's responses had long been reduced to incoherent mumbles and hums. Yet he'd been listening still, enough to remember a passage he'd particularly liked, where the lovers in the story had finally come together after a harrowing experience, finding comfort in one another's embrace. 

There was a word in specific that had been used that stuck out to him, a feeling he'd associated with Soren himself before. “What do you think about Solace?”

Soren startled at the suddenness of his words, then turned to Ike. There was a soft, barely noticeable pink tint to his cheeks, and his eyes were lit with curiosity. “Solace?”

“I was reminded of the word by a book you've read recently, and I thought it would suit you.” Ike explained, feeling a little sheepish. “Do you like it?”

Soren paused, contemplating that. Ike wondered if he'd remembered where it was from, if not, he would have to tell him later, away from prying eyes. “Solas might work better as a name, it has its roots in the word.” Soren said, his lips curled in the beginnings of a smile. “I like it.”

Ike grinned back at him, satisfied with himself. 

“Of course the one he chooses is the first name the boss suggested,” Mia commented teasingly. 

Soren didn't bother turning to her this time. He didn't raise his voice either, but being sat next to him, it was not a strain for her to hear when he asked, “Do you have something you'd like to say?” 

Mia grinned brightly. “Nothing at all!”

With the name conversation coming to a close after a reminder that they had no intent to truly change theirs, they slowly dispersed into smaller groups again, each with their own topics that would at times come together. Ike enjoyed being among the chatter, it made him feel warm. He wanted to keep that sensation for as long as possible, to commit it to memory before he left. 

They stayed up long after they usually would, until, slowly, one by one, the Greil Mercenaries retired to bed, leaving their well wishes for Ike and Soren with them. Rhys had wished them good luck, and said he would pray for their safe travels. Mia and Rolf had cheerfully hoped that they would have fun in their new adventures. Titania had told them to take care of each other. Boyd had as well, and reminded them not to hesitate to call for them if it was ever needed. And so they went, one by one, leaving their goodbyes. 

In the end, it was only Ike, Soren and Mist, walking to their rooms together. 

“So this is where we part,” Mist said. On any other night, those words wouldn't have meant much. Here, Ike knew they meant everything. 

The hallway was quiet. The three of them were standing in front of her room’s door, waiting for her to go inside. Soren took a step closer to him, his steps so quiet he was hardly noticeable. A small act of comfort, since he knew that this was difficult for Ike too. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “I guess it is.”

“You'll be safe out there, won't you?” she asked. 

The question didn't truly need an answer, still Ike said. “Yes. You don't have to worry, we'll take good care of each other.”

Soren's agreement was softer, nearly a whisper, but Mist's brief nod his way proved that she had heard it. “I don't doubt that, I just… I just want you to be happy.” She attempted to smile, but as she spoke, her voice trembled, growing heavy with emotion. “Ahh,” she sighed, “I promised myself I wouldn't cry. “

“Mist…” There was no better comfort Ike could give her, so for the second time that night, Ike pulled her into a hug. “It's alright, you can cry.” 

He ran a soothing hand through her hair. A pang of grief ran through Ike as it occurred to him that it'd been some time since he'd done that, and that this was the last time he would. 

“I'll miss you so much,” she confessed, squeezing him tighter. 

Ike wasn't one for tears, but he could feel his throat tighten then. When he spoke, his voice was heavy. “I'll miss you too.”

He didn't know for how long they stood there, with him holding Mist as she cried on his shoulder. It was long enough that Soren took a step back, leaning against the wall and looking away in order to give them privacy. Yet he felt it was far too soon that Mist pulled back to wipe her tears from her eyes. 

“Listen here, you two better be happy!” Mist declared, forcing on an encouraging smile despite her shining eyes. “I'll… I'll do my best to be too, so you don't worry. Just have fun, alright? Make it count.”

In that moment, even though his heart ached with grief, it was also filled with love for his sister. “I will, I promise. We can both be happy.” 

“We can,” she nodded, as if trying to force herself to believe the words. 

Without warning, she threw her arms around him again. Ike caught her easily, although he was surprised enough to stumble back a step when Mist reached an arm behind him, pulling softly at something. “You come here too!”

Soren shuffled closer awkwardly, as though unsure what to do with his hands when invited into the hug. Mist giggled, and while the sound was still a little wet, it was happy. Ike, too, found himself smiling at the picture the three of them made as he wrapped an arm around each of them. 

“I'll miss you both,” Mist said again, however, this time, there was a small smile on her lips. “But.. I'm glad you're making this choice, too. I hope that, wherever life leads you, you'll like it there.”

Ike and Soren echoed the sentiment back to her, then they let the silence take over them, comfortable and bittersweet. Ike focused on committing to memory the feeling of holding two of his favorite people close, leaving the decision to pull away to Mist. 

By the time they parted, all that was left to be said between them was their farewells. 

They waited until she entered her room, where Boyd was likely waiting up for her, then took their leave. Regardless of the late hour meaning they wouldn't have all that much time for rest if they were still to leave when planned, they went back to their room, lying for one last time in the familiar sheets. 

In only a few hours, Ike and Soren would leave the fort behind, bringing little from their lives here besides each other. That would be the last time Ike would see his childhood home. 

It felt like loss, yet also like freedom.

While growing up a second time as a baker's son had given Ike an appreciation for softer work, he quickly learns on the road that his years as a mercenary haven't left him. 

There had definitely been a clumsiness to him at first, born out of lack of practice. He noticed it the most when he’d accepted his first mission after leaving his hometown, but it hadn't taken him long to adapt. By the time he’d arrived in Cerule, the biggest city he'd visited yet, Ike had already fallen back into a comfortable routine. 

There's no lingering awkwardness in his movements now as he finishes cleaning up the bandit group they've just disposed of. Instead, Ike is overcome with a weary satisfaction he hasn't felt in a long time. He hasn't missed the most gruesome parts of being a mercenary all that much, but he's glad to have returned to the job. There's a freedom to being able to find work and fend for himself regardless of where his journey takes him that he's solely missed. That's the simple life he likes. 

Being a child again had been, for the most part, an alright experience. His parents were good people and, having been in their shoes before, Ike had done his best to make what he could easier on them once he was aware of himself, so they'd never had much trouble on that front. He thinks having Hugo there might have been the strangest part in the end. Ike had never been a younger brother before, and he still didn't quite know how to be one to this day. He’d had lost count of the times where he would forget himself and speak to Hugo as if he were the younger between them. It was a habit that had earned him a lot of teasing over the years. 

Still, as peaceful as those years were, Ike had been restless. His understanding of the need for him to grow up properly before setting out into the world didn't make the restrictions that being so young put on him any more pleasant. His mother would often joke that, despite not having the wings to show for it, he'd taken after her side of the family far more strongly than Hugo ever had. ‘ That's my little bird,’ she'd say, ‘ always eager to fly off into the distance, aren't you?’

What he feels at finally being able to act his age now is akin to how he’d felt when he'd shed the restrictive noble role he'd been forced to take up in his youth: the relief of stepping down from a role that wasn't meant for him, despite his willingness to bear it at the time. 

Although, his ability to carry himself how he'd like doesn't mean everyone will readily see him for the man he is just yet, as one of the men who'd been hired along with him for this job is quick to demonstrate. 

"That was some nice swordsmanship, kid!" Marco – or at least that's what Ike is pretty sure his name is – whistles, stepping into pace with Ike. "You seem quite young for this level of mastery.”

Ike understands now more than ever how Soren must've felt at being confused for a sixteen year old when he'd long since passed that age. Ike is currently amused at his own predicament, but there are times where he isn't so forgiving depending on the comments made. He's grateful that around these parts it should be no trouble to give an explanation. 

“Looks can be deceiving,” he shrugs, tapping his chest over where he knows his mark to be. Marco won't be able to see anything, but if he's sharp enough, he'll be able to understand. 

Marco pauses, blinks at him, and says, “I see.” Then he grins. “Well then, boss , you wanna train together sometime? Trade some moves?”

It's an offer Ike doesn't have to think much before accepting, albeit not without adding his own conditions. “There's not much to teach, but sure, if you'll give me some information in return.”

“Fine by me, if there's anything I can share,” he says easily. “But we might want to figure that out over dinner. I don't think any of us are up to seeing more action today.” 

Ike follows his gaze as Marco looks back to what had been the bandits’ hideout. The abandoned mine where they'd been camping is even more inhospitable now than it'd been before – a testament to the battle that had been waged there. 

Their enemies hadn't been incredibly skilled, but they'd been numerous. It'd taken their small group quite some time to be rid of them. Even with their injuries already healed, Ike has to agree that he isn't looking forward to another match now. Besides, the sunset is nearly upon them, they'd do better to rest rather than keep pushing themselves. 

“I wouldn't refuse a good meal.”

“Good man,” Marco says, putting him on the shoulder. Then, as suddenly as he'd appeared, he leaves, running to catch up to his companion walking a few steps ahead. “What do you say, Tansy? Are you coming to dinner with us?”

Tansy raises an eyebrow at him and looks back at Ike curiously. Her answer is too quiet for him to hear, but given Marco's happy demeanor, Ike guesses it's a positive one. 

He's yet to determine if the pair of them are friends or lovers. From the improvised group of five people they'd formed for this mission, Marco and Tansy had been the only ones traveling together previously to their arrival in Cerule, and for all that they'd been friendly, they hadn't shared much about themselves. 

Ike can't judge them, he hasn't been the most open either. He's reached out, falling into a sort of unofficial leadership role over their group, but that doesn't lend him a space to talk about himself – which he has no issue with. It's easily one of the ways he's most familiar with connecting to people in these types of situations, checking in on them as he'd done for the Greil Mercenaries, the armies left in his care as a general, and many other makeshift groups over his travels. 

It's nostalgic to be in that position again, however briefly. It's in his best interest to make connections with other travelers if he wants to hear news of Soren's whereabouts. But he can't deny that he's also enjoying the company. Marco reminds him a little of Mia and Ranulf with his exuberance and confidence, while Tansy with her taciturn nature is a character he hasn't run into very often, but the two of them fit together in unexpected harmony. 

The other two men with them decline his invitation to join them. They're both workers from the region who'd volunteered to help and have homes to go back to now that the battle is over, so Ike had expected it, but he'd wanted to give them the option to come along if they wished to regardless. 

There's little conversation on their way back to town. Save for Marco and Tansy who keep occasionally whispering to each other, the rest of them are silent. Ike watches them with a certain longing. He yearns for the years when he'd been the one in that position, conversing through whispers and meaningful glances with his companion and sharing an easy companionship with Soren that easily stood apart from everyone else around them. Sometimes he misses him with the burning desperation of someone drowning, as though it’s only when they meet again that he'll be truly able to breathe. 

He can't imagine how much Soren has been hurting in their time apart. Ike hasn't even been conscious for the entirety of his eighteen years and they've already felt like too long. Considering how much time it's been… A century and a half would be a long time even for most laguz. He can't imagine how it must've been for Soren, who hadn't grown up expecting to live for this long at all.

The only thing he can do to remedy both their heartaches is to find Soren, so Ike doesn't dwell on the feeling too much, preferring to keep himself focused on the matter at hand. Suffering won't bring him Soren faster, and it would bring his husband no joy if he lost himself to it.

Thus Ike entertains himself with the world around him, watching as the trees nearly disappear from view and the battered dirt path turns into a stone road as they enter the town proper.  It's still odd to him sometimes how so many more towns now have things like stone roads, colorful houses, glass windows and gas lamps lighting up the streets during the night. Cerule is a larger town, so it's less of a surprise, but he finds these features even in smaller ones now, when in his past they'd been reserved for the big cities like Melior or Nevassa. 

The streets feel unexpectedly safer that way. Ike hadn't realized the extent of how much when he'd lived in Melior, having already been mostly grown and out of a war, but spending a childhood somewhere where he could see so clearly at night had opened his eyes to the benefits of that infrastructure. Now, he appreciates that he isn't lacking in things to see as they make their way to the town center, where people are still bubbling about in spite of the late hour.

Ike, Marco and Tansy split from the other two soon enough, sequestering themselves at a corner table at a small tavern. The place is warm and lively at this time of night, with music coming from a band sitting casually in a corner which blended together nicely with the excited chatter coming from the crowd. 

After the long day they’ve had, Ike’s companions are as eager for their meal as he is, so it’s no wonder that neither of them attempt to dive right into the subject behind this meeting before they place their orders. Ike distracts himself with the music as he waits for his food, tapping his fingers along with the melody absent-mindedly on the table. He doesn’t know the song the group is playing, but the rhythm is familiar enough that he can easily follow. It’s a poor distraction from his hunger, but it’s a passabe one. 

He also keeps half an ear on Tansy and Marco's quiet conversation. They've left plenty of space for him to join in, but for the moment Ike is content to just listen to them talk about people and places he doesn't know.  It's clear they've been traveling together for quite a while now, though how long Ike can't be sure. Though the more time he spends with them, the more certain he is that they're partners in every sense of the word, much as he and Soren had been.

There's a real chance that he'll ask them to settle this doubt, too, before the end of the night, for no reason other than he is interested in knowing the answer. It's something he's always enjoyed, learning about other's lives and how similar or different they are from his own. Mist used to call him nosy; he much preferred Soren's assessment that he had all to gain and nothing to lose from expanding his horizons, and that a certain awareness of others was advantageous for people in their position.

Ike is distracted from that train of thought when he’s hit by a spicy scent with a hint of sweetness that goes straight to his empty stomach – even more so when he notices that the waiter is bringing it to their table. He’s too hungry to focus on anything but his meal. It’s been a long day, and besides, he’s still a growing boy, he can’t be blamed. 

The three of them are silent as they dig into their meals. It’s no wonder, after the day they’ve had. Ike is fully planning to ask his questions as soon as he’s gotten a few bites in, but he’s surprised when Tansy beats him to it, especially considering how little she’s spoken to him throughout the day. “So, Ike,” she starts softly, looking at him with open curiosity, “what kind of information are you after?”

Marco looks up at him with similar interest while Ike considers how to go about this. “There’s a couple of someones I’m looking for,” is what he settles on, “I’m hoping you might have heard of them in your travels.”

“Oh?” Marco prompts, trading a look with his partner. “I can’t promise anything, we’ve run into a lot of people out there,” he says honestly. “But it’s still worth a try.”

Ike nods, having expected as much. “They should be mercenaries too. One of them is a man in his late twenties or early thirties now…” It’s difficult to guess, given they’d never seen any dragon branded before leaving Tellius. They’d ran into some before, as they’d ran into a different dragon tribe; a branch who’d ended up quite far from their relatives in the chaos caused by the flood. Even so, Ike doesn’t feel equipped to tell just how much Soren should have aged, though he can make a better guess than he would have otherwise. 

He goes on about all the details he thinks would make Soren recognizable to others. His long raven hair, his red eyes, the brand on his forehead. His proficiency at wind magic above other kinds of anima magic, before moving on to the companions who might be with him. Ike wants to find all of them, but he won’t deny that Soren is the one he wants to see with more urgency. His companion is bound to have taken his death the hardest of all of them, Ike is determined to make whatever he can so that he won’t have to be alone for a second longer than necessary. 

“Hm… I’ll be honest that I haven’t heard of a group like that,” Marco admits. “There’s plenty of bands out there with two mages, an axe wielder and a swordswoman, but I can’t think of anyone with those particular descriptions. Can you Tansy?”

Ike does his best not to be too disheartened by his reply. He knew from the beginning that his family would be difficult to find, and it’s no surprise that Marco hasn’t heard of them. None of the people he’s asked has yet to have any information to offer, but Caliandra is only one of many kingdoms where they could have been, it’s entirely possible that Soren and the rest of their family merely haven’t visited in a while. 

He also keeps in mind that even a negative answer is a step into the right direction. Knowing the places where Soren isn’t is bound to lead him to where he actually is.

“No. Not a group like that, but… I do know of a powerful mage with a red mark on his forehead, though it's been a long time since he's been seen favoring his tome over his sword.”

“A mage who prefers the sword?” How strange. Despite the unlikelihood of it concerning his search, Ike can't help his interest. 

He'd long since found that plenty of people approached these skills differently from what he'd grown up with. He'd seen laguz wield swords and learn magic, and beorc fight with weapons he hadn't ever seen before, find uses for their magic that even Soren hadn't expected. But it'd remained a truth to him that most who picked a path in life between short and long ranged fighting didn't often relinquish one for the other. Thus it seems curious that an established mage would do so. 

“I forget you’re not from Caliandra sometimes,.” Marco smiles, turning to Tansy with interest. “Where did you hear about that one?”

She leans into his side ever so slightly, their shoulders touching comfortably over the table. “He’s something of a local hero where I come from.”

“A hero!” Marco gasps theatrically, bumping their elbows together. “How come you’ve never told me this story?”

“I have ,” Tansy snorts. “And yes, a hero of sorts. He’s a mercenary who stayed in town for a little while a few years ago. Do you remember the Cannoneer Brothers? The bandits I told you about?”

In a bout of uncharacteristic seriousness, Marco only says, “Oh, them.”

“Mm-hmm, them,” she agrees. There’s clearly some information there that Ike hasn’t been privy to and that Tansy doesn’t seem willing to share. He doesn’t mind it, however, they’re no more than friendly strangers to one another, he’s already happy to be told this much. To him, Tansy says, “They were a group led by three brothers who disguised themselves as a merchant company, then took over the town by force once they’d established some trust of the town’s head. It was a miserable time for a lot of people, they made us pay them tax for living there and would enforce their rules by force if disobeyed. I was too young to remember it well, but everybody knows the story of the man who drove them out of town.”

Ike leans forward, leaning an elbow by the side of his plate. There’s still food there, but he’s no longer in a hurry to eat it. “I can see why, it sounds like quite the tale for one man to do that on his own.”

“It wasn’t exactly on his own, a few of the townspeople did what they could to help,” Tansy corrects. “But all the stories report that he was a force to reckon with. He supported the local forces that were gathering against the Cannoneer Brothers, and when they confronted them, he’s said to have defeated most of their group entirely on his own, never wavering in spite of their larger numbers and better weaponry.”

Marco says just what's on Ike's mind, “He really does seem quite heroic, huh? I can see why his story lived on. And if he’s like this everywhere he goes…”

“Yeah, me too,” Tansy smiles. “I only saw him once, but he was an impressive figure. After all the fighting had ended, me and a couple of other children were curious about the man who’d become the talk of town, so we snuck off to spy on him.” 

Marco laughs, and Ike softens a little into something that’s not quite a smile, but it’s close. It’s a sweet image, and he’s amused at the picture she’s painting of a small group of children running after the town’s new heroic figure. He’s been in that position before, of the curious hero, and it’s one he’s unexpectedly fond of. For all that Ike doesn’t like garnering too much attention, the earnest curiosity of children was charming in a way his peers’ fawning wasn’t.

“He was a beautiful man, with fair skin, long raven hair falling behind him in a ponytail, and clothes unlike anything we saw in our little town. He looked aloof, too, above everything around him. But when he saw us watching, he invited us to play.” Tansy’s voice is a little wistful as she continues her tale, laced with nostalgia for her childhood days. “He showed us a couple of sword moves on an improvised wooden target, then helped us copy them using some nice tree branches we found as practice blades. Looking back, I think him pointing out my talent was one of the reasons why I chose to pick up the sword.”

“Aw what a cute little brat you were,” Marco teases. “Did you have a crush?”

“A little bit,” she shrugs. “But I think more than that I just… wanted to be like him, the sort of strong person who others can rely on.“

“A worthy goal,” Ike says sincerely. Mercenaries as they are, he appreciates someone with their heart in the right place. He’s never been able to walk away from those in trouble either, so while it isn’t his main goal in life, he considers it a good one. 

“Indeed,” Marco agrees. “And that does seem like an interesting person, to have inspired you like that. Now I'm wondering if I ever heard of him before; didn’t you say he's a famous character?"

"Maybe? I've heard stray rumors about him around these parts sometimes too." Tansy muses. “His name is Soren. And I wouldn't say he's famous, more... Well traveled, I guess?" Then she turns to Ike, biting her lip apologetically as though she hasn’t just turned his entire world upside down. "But he didn't look laguz, so I doubt that he's your man, Ike.”

He nods distractedly, barely registering Marco’s answer. 

Because this is the first time he’s heard about Soren since his rebirth, and he didn’t even realize they were speaking about him.

Surprise, relief, joy, sorrow and grief war against each other within his heart. He’d been aware that a lot would have changed in his absence, of course he had. Still… Ike hadn’t known, not until this moment, how that would feel. He hadn’t been prepared for how much it would hurt to hear about Soren and not recognize him until he was named. 

For most of their lives– for most of Ike’s life, he and Soren had been the ones that'd known each other best. It’d taken him a little longer than his partner, but he’d learned all the little secrets to Soren's expressions, and though he never stopped being surprised by him, they'd been each other's in such a way that every new detail made sense, every discovery was only connecting another missing link in the chains that wove them together. 

But not any longer, now that there were a hundred and fifty years between them. 

That night, Ike lies in bed long after the moon has risen high in the sky, unable to rest. 

By all means, sleep should come easily to him in the comfortable room he’d been given as part of the payment for his work, but the storm raging in his heart pays no mind to how soft his bed is, or how much he’s exhausted his body earlier in the day. All he can think about is Soren, and the scraps of information about him Tansy had been able to share. 

There hadn't been much past her memory from that childhood encounter, but he hungrily took in every detail she could offer about the companions he was seen with, about his newly acquired swordsmanship, his accomplishments, the apprentice that was often found trailing after him, the two women who were never far from them. 

It was, in many ways, more than she thought she was giving him. Because Ike knows Soren, knows the people surrounding him, and despite all the growth they’ve done in his absence, there’s a lot he can still gather from these brief glimpses into their current lives.

Soren, Aisling, Solas, Andromeda. His small family is still together, still out there roaming the world. Ike is happy for them – and relieved to hear that none of them have been left alone.

He misses them so much.

And he knows he is missed, too. He never thought he would be easily forgotten by any of them – except by Solas, perhaps; he’d been young back then, Ike wouldn’t blame him. But it is as touching as it is heartbreaking to hear that his memory has been kept alive to this day. 

Because he knows what sword Soren carries now.

He had taken up Ragnell. 

Tansy hadn’t referenced it by name, but Soren had told her that he’d been borrowing the sword from his husband, and she mentioned how curious it was, that she’d never heard of him using a different weapon at all. And in an instant, the idea of Soren wielding a weapon other than his tome made sense to Ike.

While that is not the way he’d expected Soren to deal with his grief, it is so very like his companion that Ike doesn’t know if he wants to smile or cry. 

Soren has changed quite a lot from the sounds of it;  he’s lived an entire lifetime without Ike by his side, and it’s left a mark on him. Yet, in the end, he’s still the same man Ike fell in love with two centuries ago, as incredible, steadfast and unyielding in his affections as Ike had known him to be. 

There’s nothing he wants more in this moment than to find Soren and get to know this person he’s become.  

“Soren!” Ike called, not quite loud enough to be a disruption, but with enough emphasis that his companion couldn't mistake its playfulness for anything else. “You'll leave me behind at this rate.”

“I would never.” There was a hint of teasing in Soren’s answering grin, though his tone was completely sincere as he came to a halt where he was standing a few steps ahead.

The amusement in their situation wasn't lost on Ike either, given normally he'd have been the one matching his steps to Soren's slower ones rather than the contrary – especially considering the weight Soren was carrying on his back. Despite having gained some muscle between the two wars they've been in and all the recent work he'd been putting his arms through, Ragnell was not easy for Soren to carry.

He didn’t doubt that it’d be Soren having a difficult time were they not in the desert. It was merely that in this terrain, he had the advantage. It was curious that what held true in the Grann desert remained in the desert past Hatari regardless of their differences. The land was rockier, and there was sparse vegetation amid the sand where in the Grann there had been none to be seen outside of the oases within which their friends had built their settlements. 

Regardless of the change, the mysterious quirk that allowed Soren to move faster than Ike had remained, and though he did have a slightly easier time himself, the difference between them was still noticeable. Soren was having fun teasing him about it, walking backwards ahead of Ike so that he could watch as he marched on in even slower steps than he would usually have as he did his best not to jostle the fragile charge resting on his shoulders.

In truth, Ike didn’t mind the situation in the least. Not only had he been the one to choose this arrangement, but he’d also been enjoying watching Soren be in such a good mood. Smiles had been coming easier for both of them for quite some time now, since they’d started their travels, yet he didn’t think he would ever grow tired of seeing Soren act so carefree. Especially when the light in his eyes still stood in stark contrast to the dim quality they’d gained with how weighed down by duty they’d both become after the Laguz Emancipation War. 

Still, for all that he’d been fine looking at him from afar for the past couple of minutes, Ike couldn’t help wanting a little more. So in spite of the heat not making the idea of touching seem the most appealing, Ike found a way to free his hand enough that he could offer it for Soren to hold with only some creative rearranging of his right arm. 

The position was admittedly a little awkward, but Soren took his hand easily, not caring for that or their sweaty palms. Before they settled on Ike, his companion’s eyes lingered on the mop of blue hair barely visible where it fell on Ike’s shoulders, hidden from the sun by a cloak. His already light features softened further, and when they finally met, his eyes were warm.

“I could try carrying something else if that’d be easier on you,” Soren said, half joking, half genuine. “Your back is a little… crowded.”

Ike huffed a laugh in amusement, never having pictured Soren to offer him that when usually Ike was the one taking weight off of his hands. “It’s alright. You know I can handle it.” 

“Mm-hmm. Tell me if that changes; we could always stop for rest.” 

“Will do.” Ike punctuated his agreement with a squeeze to Soren’s hand, trying to convey through it all the fondness he couldn’t pour in his words. 

Although he didn’t think he would need it, he appreciated the offer. It was indeed complicated balancing most of their supplies on his own with the combined challenge of keeping his sleeping charge undisturbed, but he felt he could handle it. What Ike thought he’d end up doing instead was calling for that break for his companion’s benefit. Because, while Soren was doing an admirable job with Ragnell and his set of supplies, he was visibly weighed down by them. 

It was to be expected, Ike supposed, with how much more they had to pack for this trip than they usually would have. They’d had to consider the unlikelihood of them finding anywhere to resupply, as well as the very real chance that they might have to return to Hatari. 

The idea didn’t bother Ike too much. Their stay in Hatari was a breath of fresh air, not only because the weight of their identities didn’t matter much to its people, but also because of how different the culture was from what Ike and Soren had grown up with. He enjoyed their hearty food, the clothes which prioritized comfort and ease of movement for both beorc and laguz since they were all in the habit of hunting together, the simple home he and Soren spent their past few months living in… 

But most of all, Ike had appreciated the people. Their forthright way of being was easy to get along with, it reminded Ike in some ways of the hawks. Yet, unlike any other place he’d been to in Tellius, Hatari had shown him a life where laguz and beorc lived side by side, not just as friends, but as families, with the branded children of their unions being just as cherished as any other.

He thought that he could lead a good life there, if they were to stay. Soren wouldn’t need to worry about his slower aging becoming apparent, nor would they have to concern themselves with explaining their relationship when Ike didn’t keep up with him when that was a normal occurrence for Hatari’s people. It would be a good life, he was certain of it. They spent more than enough time there to know due to their little unexpected change in circumstances. 

Yet, happy as he’d become there, he’d still wanted to give the tentative plans they’d made before leaving the Greil Mercenaries a try. 

The idea had come to him during a late night, when he and Soren had been talking quietly to each other before going to sleep. They’d been lying in bed, naked in each other’s arms, and it’d been the first time that day Ike had let himself feel completely at ease, the remainders of what’d been a tiring day no longer clinging to him once there was no one but his companion with him. 

He didn’t remember how exactly they’d arrived at the subject, only that he’d confessed something along the lines of, “Sometimes I think about what it would be like to run away, what it’d be like to change my name like my father did and go somewhere nobody knows who I’m supposed to be.” 

Soren didn’t seem surprised. He’d sighed, burying his face deeper in the crook of Ike’s neck, then asked, “And where would we go?”

The ‘we’ in his sentence brought a smile to Ike’s lips. He would have never wanted to go somewhere Soren couldn’t follow, and he was glad Soren knew that. “I don’t know.” He grimaced. “Hatari, maybe? Sometimes I feel like I'm known everywhere around here.”

“That does seem to be the case,” Soren had said, never one to give empty platitudes. “Hatari might be an acceptable place to live.”

“Are you ever curious about what it’s like to live somewhere so different from the other kingdoms in Tellius? I know there’s a lot here that I still don’t know, but talking to Volug and Queen Nailah made me realize that so much of what we think of as normal could be different.”

“I’ve never thought of it,” Soren had said. It was no surprise to Ike, considering that, though his partner was very aware of the world around him, he’d never seemed like the type to wonder about such things too much. “But I suppose it could be… interesting.”

There’s so little excitement in his voice that Ike couldn’t help laughing. “You don’t need to humor me.”

“I’m not.” Soren huffed. “... But you do know I’d follow you anywhere.”

“I do,” Ike agreed, placing a kiss on the crown of Soren’s head. “And I’d never go anywhere you couldn’t follow.”

That had earned him a light kiss on his neck, tickling his skin. ”Tell me more about those dreams of yours?”

“They’re not exactly concrete dreams, I just… I think it’s interesting how much there is to discover out there, enough that there’s a place we weren’t even aware existed until a short while ago.” He didn’t say why the idea of exploring such places appealed to him, because he didn’t need to voice it for Soren to understand how tiring the life they were leading had become to him. “Do you think Hatari is the only one? There’s times where I wonder if there’s even more places we’ve yet to discover. Is that silly of me?”

“Not at all,” Soren had said solemnly. “I don’t think there’s anything silly about that.”

That had been the moment, Ike thought, where their fanciful dream of exploring the world beyond Tellius had started. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious then, but as he’d started to actually contemplate leaving the Greil Mercenaries to lead a quieter life unburdened by his fame, it’d become something more serious. 

Soren had been the one to plan for their extra supplies and how far they’d be able to travel before being forced to turn back, even more so after their plans changed so suddenly just as they’d been leaving home. It had been what told Ike he was looking forward to this as much as he was.

Thinking of it made him want to kiss Soren just as he had then. He would have done it, if their positions didn't make it so inconvenient. 

“For how long do you think we’ll be traveling still?” he asked Soren instead, having reminded himself of the nervous anticipation in his heart while recalling the reason behind their travels. He knew Soren wouldn’t have the answer, yet considering how he’d always have a good sense of where he was headed, he thought he’d ask anyway. 

“Who knows?” Soren said. “We might not find anything at all.” But despite the negativity of his words, his tone was light, telling Ike he meant them in teasing. 

So he merely looked at him in response, patiently waiting for more. Soren could never deny Ike for too long. 

As expected, Soren sighed softly as he paused to think, then said, “If I were to hazard a guess, we should have a few more days ahead of us at the rate we’re going, maybe a week and a half.”

Ike could have kissed him if their current position wasn’t in the way, as it was, he settled for smiling at him in thanks. “What do you think we’ll find?”

“It’s hard to tell,” he said, more seriously this time. “It could be anything; it could be nothing.”

Ike squeezed his hand again, his gaze soft as he looked at Soren. “That’s the fun of it, isn’t it?”

Soren smiled and squeezed his hand in turn. “Indeed it is.” 

The world felt larger than ever in front of the two of them in that moment, full of possibilities for what was to come. Ike almost felt as though he were younger, the feeling of excitement to discover what might be ahead of him was reminiscent of the way he felt when his father first allowed him to join the Greil Mercenaries, lighting his heart with childlike wonder at what the future might have in store for him.

He was no longer so young that he didn’t acknowledge the possibility that he might not enjoy what their travels might bring them, or that as Soren had said, they might not bring them anything at all, but he consciously refused to let go of the hope that something good could happen, too. Life was better when one expected good things out of it. 

There was a time where Soren wouldn’t have agreed to that, but now, sharing excited smiles with him as they made their way throughout the desert, Ike thought he did.