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[30_romances] Fire Emblem: Ike/Soren

For 30_romances

Title Scar Tissue
Fandom Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance
Pairings/Characters Ike/Soren
Theme(s) 8. Analysis; Collection
rating PG-13, just to be safe
Warnings slight sexual implications, shounen-ai
Summary Soren is injured in battle and, as always, Ike is at his side.

Soren groaned, hitting the floor with a fierce thud that echoed through the stone halls. Soren’s spell had been quick and clean, felling the general almost instantly, but neither of them had taken notice of the archer in the shadows. It had been a straightforward mission, to be sure, and should not have proved a challenge for the two of them alone. If Soren had seen the archer, he could have easily avoided the arrow. As it was, he was doubled over on the floor, clutching his abdomen where the arrow had struck. Ike reached for Soren, starting to grab the arrow.

“No…” Soren grunted. “If you pull it out…you’ll cause more damage to the tissue…too much blood loss. Get rid of the archer…” The blood stained Soren’s robes and made them sticky, seeping into the floor and over Soren’s hand. His palm was already crimson, and the coppery smell of blood was almost too much for Ike to bear. Not because it was blood, but because it was Soren’s blood. Ike broke the tip from the arrow and hefted the sage into his arms. “Ike, you can’t let him get away…He’ll…reinforcements…” Soren murmured, coherency beginning to slip. More prevalent was the thought that he was so cold, and how good the warmth of Ike’s arms felt.

“Let him go,” Ike replied, the last words Soren remembered before drifting off. “You’re more important.”




Soren’s first thought upon waking was that he was in terrible pain. As if to emphasize it, the moment he attempted to sit up straight a paralyzing jolt rippled through his stomach, forcing him back onto the cot.

His second thought was that the sun was up before him, which was not something Soren was accustomed too, and that he would be late for briefing.

Slowly, however, the events of the night before—was it the night before?—returned to him. His stomach was bandaged and beside his bed was a small hand-picked bouquet of wildflowers, so it was safe to assume that he was back at camp and likely being tended by Mist (or else Elincia was feeling particularly sympathetic, since there weren’t many people that Soren could envision gather wildflowers).

On the other side of the bed, sprawled out in a rather uncomfortable position on the floor and still fully armed, lay Ike. Soren smiled slightly too himself, a strange feeling of pleasure filling him at seeing Ike there.

Soren eased himself into an upright position, careful of his wound. The blanket slid down his chest to his lap, and Soren felt his face redden slightly as he realized that he was completely undressed. Of course, he reminded himself, a sage’s robes aren’t particularly conducive to letting one be partially undressed. He could only hope that Ike’s precious little sister—and Ashera forbid, Elincia—had had nothing to do with his disrobing.

Ike twitched, his lips parting in a prolonged yawn, and Soren took the few seconds to make sure the blanket managed to cover him at least from the waist down. As Ike’s eyes fluttered open, a bleary smile touched his lips. “Up early, as usual, Soren,” he mumbled. “How are you feeling?”

Soren leaned back against the side of the tent, rubbing his temples gently. “Something akin to feces left to stew in the sun,” Soren muttered. “You wouldn’t happen to have noticed what happened to my clothes, would you?” The thought of Mist seeing him naked was embarrassing, but the thought of Ike seeing was strangely both thrilling and mortifying. Not that Ike had any inhibitions about changing in front of him…

Ike grinned, stifling a chuckle and positioning himself closer to Soren’s cot. “Mist and Elincia are trying to mend them, and doing poorly at it so far.” As he spoke, Ike’s arm brushed gently across Soren’s thigh, with only the thin sheet between them. Soren’s translucent white color deepened to the faintest pink on his cheeks. He bit his lower lip, adverting his eyes from Ike. Misconstruing Soren’s reaction, Ike added, “Don’t worry. Rhys took care of you, not Mist. It was as much for your modesty as it was hers.”

Ike paused abruptly, and a sudden somberness was palpable in the air. “Soren…” Ike whispered, his voice wrought with sympathy. Soren could feel his hands begin to tremble. “Where in the world did you get these scars?”

Ike traced the marks with his eyes. Some were thicker than others, some ran lengthwise down his back, some stretched across horizontally, and a few touched his side and shoulders. Most ran in parallel sets of three, though the thicker, more faded scars seemed to be inflicted separately. It was horrible to look upon, and yet Ike felt the sudden desire to reach out and trace each of them with his fingers, as though by his touch, he could erase them.

He could hear Soren’s sharp intake of breath, and then he whispered lowly, “These scars…the ones that run in sets of three are from my time in Gallia. They are claw marks.” His hand briefly touched the scar on his shoulder, putting one finger on each of the three strokes.

Ike’s hand gently touched the thick, light scar that stretched across Soren’s back just below his shoulder blades. “What about these? They don’t look like a laguz made them.” Soren flinched a bit, and he could feel his heart begin to race at the touch. His touched soothed and burned at once, sending shivers down his spine.

“No. I do not even remember getting those scars. I…have had them all my life.” He paused, licking his lips slightly and wrapping his arms around himself. “I once asked my foster mother about them. She seemed frightened, and then told me not think about it.”

Ike could feel the slight shudder from Soren when his fingers touched the raised skin, the defects in his alabaster skin. Soren’s hands tightened on the sheets, shaking from how they clutched the fabric. “We all have scars from battle, but these…” Ike shook his head. “You were just a child. The laguz did this to you for being a Branded?”

Soren flinched, though whether from the word or the touch Ike was unsure. “Yes,” he replied softly, his voice quivering. “And the others, I assumed were from my human parent…though I can’t be positive.”

“That’s horrible, Soren,” Ike murmured, his fingers tracing the deepest claw marks from Soren’s shoulder to his lower back, where they ended. Ike gasped slightly, just loud enough for Soren to hear, and dropped his hand to the bed.

With a slight rustle of robes and the flapping of the tent door, Rhys peaked inside. Without the sensation of Ike tracing his scars, it suddenly occurred to Soren just how very close they were, and how underdressed he was.

“Am I interrupting anything, Commander?” Rhys’ voice was sincere, tinged with worry for Soren’s wound, but beneath it Soren could feel the suspicion of their somewhat compromising position. But then, Soren had always been a bit paranoid…

Soren gave a silent sigh of relief at seeing the dark bundle in Rhys’ arms that he could only hope would be his clothes.

“Of course not, Rhys,” Ike replied good-naturedly, but his voice still rang with pity. “I’m sure Soren is happy to see you.”

Rhys smiled, gingerly laying the bundle beside Soren’s cot. “Ilyana volunteered to bring you lunch today, but it might take a while – she’s making enough for herself, as well. She’s hoping that the two of you can start your magic lessons again soon. I’ll return to change your bandages in a few hours. Try to keep as comfortable as possible, and try not to make any sudden movements so the wound doesn’t reopen. Unfortunately you didn’t arrive fast enough to fully heal the wound magically, which means you’ll have to let your body heal on its own, so you’ll need to stay in bed for at least a few days more.” Rhys absently smoothed the dark colored robes he had brough for Soren. “The robes are a loan from Bastian. They’ll likely be a bit large for you, but he was the closest to your size who had clothing to spare. Do you need anything at the time?”

Soren shook his head. “Thank you, Rhys. I’ll send for you if I need you.” Rhys nodded and turned, exiting the tent.

“Do you want me to leave for you to get dressed?” Ike asked, attempting a teasing tone but sounding far more morose than he intended.

“If you could at least turn away, I would be most appreciative,” Soren said, shifting the blanket so that it still covered him as he planted his feet on the floor. Ike stood and turned toward the wall, positioned so that he could see Soren just on the edge of his peripheral vision. Soren winced, clutching his wound, and suddenly – in the time it took Soren to brace himself for a violent crash – he was in Ike’s arms.

Ike half-smiled, and Soren felt as though his entire body were on fire. “So much for modesty, huh Soren?” Ike said teasingly. “You can’t even stand, so how do you planning on dressing yourself?”

Soren tried to sound as accusatory as possible, but between the fierce burning in his face and the feel of Ike’s hand on his waist, coupled with the fact that his tongue clove desperately to the roof of his mouth, it came out more as a whimper: “You looked.”

“And it I hadn’t, you would be on the floor and Mist would be scolding me for letting Rhys’ patient reopen his wound,” Ike countered, helping Soren to stand. “Rhys undressed you. I don’t see much of a difference.”

Soren clutched onto Ike’s shoulder. “Rhys is a priest, and I was unable to protest because I was unconscious.”

Ike smiled, reaching for the robes. “I’m your friend, and you’re unable to protest because I’m a lot stronger, about as fast, and you don’t have a weapon. Wow, these look expensive.” Ike held up the robes by the collar. They were dark blue silk, with a large golden ‘B’ monogrammed over the right side of the chest, and from the looks of it were meant to be pajamas. Garish golden flourishes were embroidered over the sleeves and down the center, and it was tied with a stiff blue and golden belt.

It reeked of nobility with a faint hint of lavender. Soren was unsure which he dreaded more – being completely nude in front of Ike and everyone else who decided to visit him (that was at least Mist, Rhys, Elincia, Stefan, and Ilyana if she managed to save him any of what she cooked) or being seen in that. It was well suited for Bastian, but it would look absolutely ridiculous on him.

Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on what side he viewed it from – Ike didn’t appear to be giving him much of a choice and had somehow managed to get on of his arms in the sleeve without him realizing it. Ike pulled him against his chest to free up his hands, wrapping the belt high around Soren’s waist. Ike nodded toward the bandage.

“That will probably leave a scar too, you know,” he remarked, fastening the belt around Soren’s waist. The clothes hung limply off of him, his limber frame lost within the folds of the garish robes. The oversized robes revealed the entirety of Soren’s left shoulder and part of his back and chest. Gently, Ike traced the scar from just below his neck to where it disappeared beneath the fabric. “Those scars…none of them are your fault, Soren.” Ike bent down to Soren’s neck, pressing his lips against the scar for only the briefest moment.

And, for that brief instant, all the wounds ever inflicted upon him were healed.

Comments

( 8 comments — Leave a comment )
(Deleted comment)
arcanelle
Apr. 24th, 2008 02:15 am (UTC)
Thank you :)
duowolf
Apr. 23rd, 2008 04:23 pm (UTC)
Neat fic I really enjoyed it.
jinnizzle
May. 2nd, 2008 12:22 am (UTC)
Omg that was great *_*

>/////<

asidian
May. 6th, 2008 10:56 am (UTC)
Such a sweet scene, and very well-written, as well. The little touches just bring it to life, Bastion's robes especially.
ninzake
May. 15th, 2008 02:21 pm (UTC)
It was so heartfelt. I nearly melted XD.
lady_nepheene
May. 16th, 2008 08:39 pm (UTC)
Oww...so sweet, sure I'm more of an Ike/Elincia and Soren/Ilyana fan, but some Ike/Soren goodies from times to times is not bad or rejected especially when it's written as beautifully as this one...

Tch...lucky Soren
artificalapple
Aug. 2nd, 2008 01:58 am (UTC)
awww. ike/soren is adorable.

where did you get the picture for your icon?
acedia3
Jun. 27th, 2010 07:49 am (UTC)
Beautifully written and just a touching moment all around.

Sadly there was just one, little, tiny, detail that distracted me. Being a branded, the Laguz wouldn't really pay any attention to Soren let alone attack him. But it does add to the story, so really who cares.

Sorry for my nit-picking OTL
( 8 comments — Leave a comment )

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fire emblem: ike/soren (my guiding light
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