Hey all, ZGS here with my first FE fic ^^ This one is going to be a tale that follows the events of FE9: PoR, with some minor differences due to the inclusion of one or more OCs. Hope you enjoy my take on PoR!

Disclaimer: I don't own FE or anything affiliated/related to it (though I wish I did). I do own the OC Rhiannon that appears in this tale, however.

Speech Guide:

Italics indicates thinking/thoughts

"Quotation marks" indicate speech/speaking

How long had he sat here, head in hands at this very table, his thoughts far from reality? And how long would he continue to do so? How long indeed…

"You look lost." Soren stated flatly, whisking up the tent flap in his usual nonchalant manner as he sauntered briskly inside. Ike blinked as the young mage shoved a steaming plate of food under his nose.

"Well go on, eat." Soren mumbled, glancing off to the side as the blue-haired swordsman stared at him with curiosity. It wasn't like his friend to show such outwardly concern for another. Then again, I don't think it's typical of me to skip meals either…

"Sorry if I worried you." Ike commented while cramming down the food as fast as he could. For whatever reason it tasted like wet sand in his mouth, though he had no doubt the ingredients were of a far better type. He just wasn't hungry after "that" had happened, not a week's time ago.

"That" being the promotion to his new position as general of the Crimean army. Sure, he had led the Greil Mercenaries for a while, but leading an army was on an entirely different scale…

I guess I just don't feel up to this task yet. But then again, not feeling up to it won't make the problem go away… Ike sighed, letting his fork drop with a clang against the wooden table beneath. Ever since his father—the legendary Greil—had died, Ike's life had been turned upside down, with one random occurrence happening after another. It had been more than once that they'd narrowly escaped death at the hands of some enemy; how they kept managing to survive was beyond him. There had also been quite a few times where the Greil Mercenaries had come close to losing a member. And to make matters worse, now that he was in charge of a much larger group of people…

Soren chose that moment to clear his throat, bringing Ike's attention back to reality.

"General, perhaps you'd like to come with me to inspect the new recruits…?" Ike blinked, then nodded, motioning for Soren to lead the way. Somehow he couldn't help but feel a little envious at how easily the young mage could adapt to pressing circumstances such as these…

Less than five minutes later the two old friends were trotting briskly through camp, heading in the approximate direction of the mess hall. Evening was nigh on top of them by the time they reached their destination, the sunset painting a myriad of reds, yellows, and oranges across the sea of white canvas tents. It would have been extremely beautiful if not for the fact that this was an army camp, prepping for the journey to go to war.

For a moment they paused outside the large mess tent, listening to the voices inside. Ike immediately recognized Boyd's voice as it rose above the rest; apparently they were playing some sort of game in there. I can only hope it's not a drinking game…

When he followed Soren inside however, the noise level immediately dropped as everyone turned to look at him expectantly.

"…As you were…" Ike finally managed to stammer out. He waited until the chatter returned to its previous levels before motioning for Soren to continue. It still bugged him somewhat to have everyone look up to him like that all the time. He'd no doubt he would get used to it eventually, but as for right now…

Never mind that, he thought, stepping closer to the brazier in the center of the large tent before turning to face the assortment of young men and women Soren had assembled in front of him. There were six of them in total; three of the men held axes in various forms of relaxation, and the fourth was a swordsman not unlike Ike himself. The remaining two recruits—both women—carried no visible weapons, though Ike suspected that was because it was uncomfortable to shoulder longbows in the low-roofed confinements of the mess tent. All six seemed to be roughly around his age, though one could never be completely certain; he didn't feel like asking anyways. The only time he would actually interfere and ask that sort of a question would be after a soldier's death…which was something that he'd rather not think about right now.

"Welcome to the Crimean army," he stated flatly, still trying to warm himself up at the brazier. "I'm Ike, the commanding officer around these parts. I suppose you might call me a bit of a green recruit like yourselves; I only just got this promotion recently. However, be that as it may be, I hope we can all get along and work together."

Ike watched the new recruits' reactions to that bald statement out of the corner of his eye. That was one of his favorite tactics in testing newcomers whenever they arrived—dropping a bombshell and then noting their individual reactions made finding the correct placement within the army a thousand times easier for him when it came time to decide where to put them. Interestingly enough, however, this batch was the most stoic that had been sent to him yet; most only grinned at him in various combinations of eagerness and shyness. But what caught his attention the most was the girl on the far right, whose face was mostly hidden by a tattered brown cloak.

She was frowning, and in his direction.

I wonder why...? Anyways, hope you enjoyed this first little chapter; I hope to keep the chapters for this fic shorter than some of the GS ones I've done (mostly so I can update in a more timely manner). Thanks for reading, ZGS :)