A/N: Oh man, I finally found the time to break the writing hiatus I imposed on myself after I found out that I would spend the entire summer working and sleeping off the exhaustion of working. I had much more free time during the school year, which I am sadly beginning to miss. Ah, well. This is a belated birthday gift for a friend who gave me a "love at first sight" prompt, even though she knows I don't believe in it. Uwee hee hee. Hope you like it, Als!
Disclaimer: FE belongs to IS, and they really need to make a new game for Wii. Pretty please.
0o0o0o0o0o0
It was a hot day. Beads of sweat trickled down Soren's forehead, and he stopped in his tracks for a moment to brush them away with the sleeves of his robe. It was his own fault, he knew, for wearing his usual layers and layers of black even though the weather called for more lightweight and breathable materials, but all the same he would not be convinced to shed his robes in favor of something more summer appropriate. Let Rolf be the one to run around in his shorts and Mist in her little ruffled skirts; they were children with nothing to hide, nothing yet to be particularly ashamed of. They were not like Soren with his pale, translucent skin and fragile limbs, possessing a body so breakable, feminine, and weak that any other member of the mercanaries, with the possible exception of Rhys, could snap in two in an instant. He knew he had no real reason to be ashamed, but sometimes when he saw Ike with his sleeves rolled up, his muscular arms bulging and beautifully slick with sweat, he could not help but feel pained with a sense of unworthiness, as if he were a lap dog attempting to stand up beside a lion.
With a sigh, Soren continued on his path and did his best to ignore the oppressive heat. In a moment or so, now that he had returned from town with a fresh stack of tomes to replace the ones that had been damaged and overused, he could have a cool and perfect breeze at his command and the problem would be solved. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the fort decided to come train alongside him as he worked his magic with the wind; summertime was the only time Soren was popular with the others, due to his penchant for the much needed element on a scorching day in Crimea.
As he neared the training fields, he could see that a few people were already up and hard at work. Titania and Mia, of course, had probably been up for hours, the former working as diligently as she always had, and the latter looking for a duel at dawn. But to his surprise, Ike was also among them, swinging his sword with the grim determination that had been present ever since his father had died and he had crossed paths with such formidable foes as the Black Knight and Mad King Ashnard. Possibly all the near brushes with death they had experienced over the past year had taught Ike the importance of finding the height of his abilities, especially if there was the smallest chance that a large scale war could break out again between the nations of Tellius.
Ike set aside his blade when he saw Soren coming, waving his hand in a gesture of welcome. Before Soren could even blink, he'd swooped up the stack of tomes in his hands and carried them as if they were no lighter than feathers.
"Here, let me help you," he said belatedly, already trekking back to the fort. "You look exhausted. If you were going shopping, you should have asked someone to go along with you and help you with your purchases."
"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of this myself," Soren retorted, though not at all unkindly. He was used to Ike indulging his heroic sense of duty, and although it frequently annoyed him, he preferred for it to be directed at him rather than someone like Mia, or- goddess forbid- Elincia.
"Here you go." Ike set the books down in the fort's armory beside Rhys's light tomes. "If you ever want to buy out a library again, just ask me. I'll do all the heavy lifting."
Soren grimaced. Maybe his scrawniness wasn't the result of his incurable lack of appetite but rather because Ike was always around to take his burdens from him, whether or not they were physical or emotional. "Thank you for your assistance," he said at length, after Ike showed no signs of returning to his training, instead staring at Soren with a disconcerting look of pensiveness. "I'll join you on the training field, if you don't mind."
"Just a moment," Ike murmured, his mouth pursing just slightly. "I'm getting that strange feeling. You know, the one where you feel like you're doing something that's already happened before?"
"Deja vu."
Ike snapped his fingers. "Yeah, that's it. I really have no idea why, though. I don't know what I'm remembering."
Soren knew exactly what it was. It was a moment so very much like this one, a hot and sunny day in June, an event that apparently did not mean as much to Ike as it did to him. He would not have forgotten it or be forced to rack his mind to draw it forth. If Ike had asked him outright what about this scene was so familiar, he would have known in an instant what he meant. "Don't you remember?" he would have asked him, embarrassed, reproachful. "The second time we met?" And Ike would ponder it out and remember little things, the things that didn't matter, and Soren's face would go blank, an indisputable sign that he was hiding something. "What is it?" Ike would ask, already knowing his answer would be a flat "nothing".
But it was something, of course. With Soren, it was always something.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Soren never planned on falling in love, but it had happened in spite of best efforts. All he wanted was to see Ike again. No more. No less. He assumed his life would fall neatly in place when their paths crossed again, and that the burning need to feel Ike's earnest compassion and sweet, blue eyed gaze would abate into something smaller and less pressing. He would figure out something to do to keep him by the other boy's side, something that would keep him close to the foreign feeling of friendship that would most likely never find him again, but other than that, he expected and hoped for nothing. Ike was just a child, after all, he told himself. He may have been kind and selfless, but he couldn't possibly provide the salvation Soren was looking for. Even the kindest of gestures- the sharing of food and a home and such- could not erase all that had been done to his cold, unfeeling heart.
But love, or some equally strong force, had its eye on him and had spared a moment to guide his wandering steps. He had found his way to Crimea and to a place where he was acknowledged as a powerful arcane warrior rather than an unwanted and abused child. He hadn't been happy- though they clothed and fed him to his heart's content, the people who watched over him were still grating and imbecilic in his eyes- but than again, he hadn't been as unhappy as he had once been. Even then, something told him that Ike was nearby, just waiting to be found. The resolution he was searching for was somewhere on the horizon; all he needed to do was to find the way there without once again becoming lost within himself.
Summer came, and Soren grew tired with his studies. He had at last mastered speech, and his caretakers had imparted all the useful knowledge he could expect to get out of them, so he really had no reason to stay where he was any longer. As far as Ike went, he only had a few leads to go on, but he was determined to see each of them through as soon as possible. In response to the vague queries he made about a young, blue haired boy he used to know, most villagers pointed him in either the direction of Melior, where a boy matching the description lived with his twin sister, or further west where it was said a powerful mercenary commander also had a blue haired son about the age of the one Soren was looking for. No one exactly knew where this place was, but Soren was determined to find it somehow. It seemed likely that this was where he was meant to go, as when he'd first encountered Ike, he'd been playing soldier with a fallen stick. It seemed fitting for a sellsword's son, more so than for someone who grew up in the royal capital with all the nobles and their ilk.
So Soren set out blindly once again, tracing the trail of rumors. Everywhere he went, he'd find more answers to his question, and the closer and closer he approached to the fort, the more information he learned. In the first town, there was small knowledge of a band of mercenaries run by a fearsome axe-wielder and a knight with a long red braid. In the second, the commander was given a name: Greil. In the third, Soren was told that there were three or so children among the group, one being about his own age. In the fourth, he discovered that a few members of the company, an armored knight and a sniper, had passed through recently to enjoy a night of drinking. Soren was narrowing in at last, even though the exact location of his search still remained a mystery.
Finally, near the end of June, he tracked down someone who had been to the mercenary base before. One of the maids at an inn where he'd stayed reported that she lived on the other side of the woods by the fort, and that she often heard the company training or heading out for missions. She drew Soren a little map on a napkin, and told him that the boy he was looking for, Ike, would probably be outside with his sword when he arrived.
"He's so little still, but he works hard all the time to become a member of the company someday," the maid giggled fondly. "It's so cute. When you see him, tell him I said hello!"
Soren ignored this remark, instead focusing on the pounding of his heart. It was finally happening. After all his aimless searching, he had finally found his way to what he was looking for. He wasn't certain if this made him feel more excited or apprehensive. He had never decided what to do or say when he saw Ike again. Do you remember me? seemed like such a weak way to offer up his sudden presence, but what other answer could he give? He supposed that he could show up under the pretense of joining the company, but if Ike, who was most likely still stronger and more fit than Soren, was still a rookie, what hope did the scrawny mage have to be accepted?
I have to try, he resolved. I'll be whatever they need me to be. A mage, a scholar, a tactician... anything.
Before looking at the maid's map, he made a quick stop by an armory to purchase a few tomes for himself. If he was to offer his services, he had to look qualified. If he showed up as he was, no one would take him seriously. Even the mark on his forehead, which everyone associated with his arcane powers, he was certain the other mercenaries would be more influenced by his diminutive stature unless he proved to them he was as talented as he claimed he was.
Tomes in hand, Soren made his way down the path the maid had marked for him. He felt strangely happy as he walked, even though the heat made every step painful and his arms were already wavering due to the weight of his purchases. It had been raining the past few days, but today sunlight streamed through the trees, illuminating the earth so it looked vibrant, alive. And there he was at the center of it all, damaged beyond belief but yet foolishly hopeful that he was emerging on the threshold of a new chapter in his life. His heart fluttered at the thought of it, of all the years ahead of him that would be better than all the ones before, all thanks to a bold and kind-hearted boy who had changed his world once before by showing him the meaning of trust and compassion.
All the same, he counseled himself to think rationally. There was no point in getting his hopes up when life was such a cruel and heartless master. Perhaps this too would be another misadventure to add to his list. Ike had been a child when they'd met, but now who knew what he would be? He could be anyone, really. He could have grown to be like everyone else in the world, possessing a heart of hatred and shallowness. Soren was a fool to hang on to a feeble memory of warmth when he was surely about to come face with yet another cold shoulder and icy rejection. As another shiver of anticipation raced down his spine, he laughed bitterly at himself. Why was he waiting so excitedly for this? What did it matter to him that this was happening?
Soren began to increase his pace, in order to appease his restless limbs. He knew he still had plenty of time to make his visit, and since it was morning there was a great possibility that Ike was fast asleep in bed, but every nerve in his body was screaming at him to keeping going onward. It was a strange mood, but he went with it and rode it out. He'd been depressive and inactive too much of late, and it was a nice change for his body to feel some sort of motivation, no matter how small. He told himself firmly that it had nothing to do with the thought of Ike awaiting him, but was certainly the result of sleeping in or of not having enough exercise and fresh air. Never mind the fact that he'd been walking non stop for the past few days.
At last he reached the edge of the woods and laid eyes on the fort. It was bigger than he thought it would be, and very structurally sound. Immediately the gears in Soren's head began to turn. If it was ever attacked, the mercenaries could launch an effective defense from these walls. Ike had most likely been kept perfectly safe there over the past few years... not that Soren was particularly worried about that, or anything.
All of a sudden, an overwhelming feeling of fear attacked him, a fear so great that he did not fully understand it. His heart was slamming like a drum. He coached himself over and over again that this was nothing, just a silly whim of his, a foolish instinct of his mind and body that told him that all he needed to do to be happy was to find Ike. It didn't really mean anything, it was all insensible, it was a fool's notion, a weakness. He'd honestly be doing himself a favor by turning around and heading back to the people who had taken him in, as unsatisfying as that had been. What did Ike matter? Ike was just a human boy, a fancy, a dream.
In spite of this, Soren's feet remained glued to the ground as if they had something else in mind for him. Following the order of some force outside of himself, he looked to the entrance of the fort, his eyes more open then they had ever been in his life. And that, for the second time in his history, was when Soren saw him.
Ike. Ike, the kind and generous Ike who had offered his food to him while he was starving in Gallia and promised to find him again the very next day, that young and energetic Ike whom he treasured as a memory, only as a memory up until now, was standing there to meet his eyes as he looked up at him. But no, it was not the Ike he remembered, not quite. He knew that particular Ike like the back of his hand, but this one was a stranger. His impressive height, the slight glitter in his eyes, the rumpled texture of his blue hair, the increasing muscle of his arms, the leanness of his young man's body… had he really grown so much since Soren had seen him last? And why hadn't Soren noticed during their first encounter that everything about Ike was so pure and beautiful and perfect? He couldn't help but wonder if it was even real, or if he was only seeing him as such because he was bathed in these new and foreign feelings that had come upon him so suddenly that he wasn't half sure what they even were or if a name could be placed to define them.
"Hello," Ike said (how could he be so calm?), a small smile on his face. "Can I help you?"
Yes, yes you can, Soren thought to himself in alarm, his pale cheeks flushing. But his mouth wouldn't move, and it had been felt just like when he'd first met Ike when he hadn't known how to speak. He simply stared up dumbly, gazing at Ike in a daze as if he were staring into the sun.
"Hey, I'll hold those for you. You look exhausted." Without asking, Ike gathered Soren's tomes in his arms and hoisted them against his chest. "You're a mage, huh?"
"Y-yes," Soren stammered, his eyes widening. He wasn't sure which surprised him more: the fact that Ike was once again reaching a helping hand out to him without any provocation or that he seemingly had no idea who Soren was, even though out of the two of them, Ike was the one who had done all the growing and changing.
"Does that mean you want to see my father?" Ike continued. "If you want to contract the mercenaries, he's the one to talk to. Although, I suppose you are kind of young for that."
"I'm a perfectly capable mage and am fully qualified to be a staff officer for a group such as yours," Soren objected, feeling a bit like a mouse squeaking up at a fully grown animal. "By your leave, I would like to join."
Ike laughed, pure beauty pouring out from his mouth. "By my leave? You've got the wrong idea. I'm just the commander's son. I don't have power here, or anything. You should really talk to my father. I could take you in to see him."
"Not yet," Soren replied quickly. He didn't want to be with anyone else that moment. Now that he was here with Ike, he wasn't ready for the feeling to slip away, to end before it had really begun.
"All right. So was there something else you wanted?"
He felt his body shiver outside of his control, goosebumps rising on his arms even in spite of the heat. There was something else he wanted- all he wanted, really- but it was so irrational, so very unlike him, that he forced himself to bite it back and bury the thought deep in his head. He couldn't very well tell Ike that what he wanted was this; just the two of them, standing together, arms brushing just slightly and the world spinning pleasantly, time slowly passing them by without either of them much caring.
"I don't know," Soren said finally, because he wasn't sure that he completely did. He had known that he wanted to see Ike again, but he hadn't known what he wanted after that, and the emotions he was now experiencing were too new found to trust in with unwavering faith. But in a way, he understood for the first and only time in that brief second of his history everything he would ever need to know. He realized that it didn't matter what he was and all he had suffered, or that most people he would meet in his life would never see into his heart and mind enough to love and value him, because Ike was in the world and he was there with him. He was the person who would fill the empty part inside of Soren, the primal and deeply buried part that sought completion. He was the only one his heart would feel called to. He was the one he would have to be with in the end, him or no one else. All of this he understood when he first looked in Ike's eyes, and all of this he instantly lost when Mist stuck her head out of the window of the fort and began calling Ike's name at the top of her lungs, effectively breaking the spell.
Soren's heart pounded wildly and he knew Ike was the one who started it, but he no longer knew why or to what end. It frightened him, this loss of control. He wasn't used to it. He liked calling the shots and defining every interaction in his life, but somehow, in a single moment, Ike had usurped him. He had thought that Ike would be just a temporary solution to his pain, but already he was turning into the be-all and end-all that Soren hadn't anticipated him becoming.
"That was my sister," Ike said, rolling his eyes. "Hey, do you want to come in? If you're not ready to talk to my father, you could at least stay for a bite to eat. You look like you really need it. Besides, I can't let you go carrying these heavy things around all by yourself, can I?"
Soren nodded dumbly, following in Ike's wake as he headed back to the fort. He wasn't sure what exactly he was getting himself into, but he realized, with a sense of bewilderment closely intertwined with relief, that this was the first moment in his life that he had felt fully and undeniably happy.
0o0o0o0o0o0o
"Soren?"
Soren blinked for a moment, pulling himself back to reality. Ike was still looking at him in confusion, his brow knotted together as if he was working through a mystery that he had no hope of ever solving. Soren wondered how long they had stayed like that, Ike trying to remember to the best of his efforts and Soren remembering with the ease of drawing forth the words of an often read book.
"Excuse me for my distraction, Ike," he apologized, in case that hadn't been the first time Ike had attempted to call his attention. "I was just having a thought."
"Me too," Ike murmured casually. "I have sort of a weird question for you."
"Yes?"
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
Soren nearly choked in his shock. "What? Come again?"
"Love at first sight. Do you believe in it?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Soren wondered, his face burning. "Did you just meet someone recently, or something?"
Ike glared at him witheringly. "Just humor me, all right? It's just a question."
"Fine, then," he snapped, still feeling a bit threatened by this spontaneous query. Hadn't he just been talking about deja vu and attempting to remember the moment when they met that had triggered it? How could he possibly discard that thought and think instead of some stupid girl who'd probably thrown herself at him in town and had somehow tricked him into imagining that he'd fallen in love. "I don't believe in it. It's just some stupid fantasy that girls like Mist believe in because they're too romantic to admit that the only thing you experience when seeing someone for the first time is lust not love."
"Lust, huh?" Ike mused. "I suppose that makes sense. What about second sight, then? Is that too soon?"
Soren's face burned, which he told himself had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with the memory he had just been reliving. There was no way he was going to admit that he had once felt love at second sight to be just as cliché and false as love at first sight, up until the moment that Ike had managed to ensnare him in two unexpected acts of unconditional kindness. He couldn't admit it, but he couldn't deny it either. Ike was impossible to lie to, and if there was a certain girl he had on his mind, he definitely didn't want to encourage him.
"Who is she?" Soren demanded, evading the question.
"She?" Ike scratched his head. "When were we talking about a she?"
"I don't know, but when you just launch into talking about love at first sight, what else could you be thinking about?"
"Deja vu."
"Excuse me?"
"You know, when you feel that you've done something or felt something exactly as you've done it or felt it before?" Ike grinned. "You honestly don't know what I'm talking about? And here I thought your memory was better than mine."
Soren felt a bit unsteady on his feet. "Are we even talking about the same thing right now?"
"I don't know. I would ask you what you were thinking about, but I doubt you'd tell me." Ikw turned away for a moment, heading towards the door frame as if to leave Soren behind in the armory. Before crossing it, he glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, Soren."
"Yes, Ike?"
"Was there something else you wanted?"
Soren froze for a moment, the familiar words sounding so much like they once had that he thought he was dreaming again. But there was Ike standing in front him, alive and real. Had he really remembered? Were they really, for once, on the exact same page as each other?"
"Yes," Soren answered slowly. "Yes there was."
"In that case, I think we're talking about the same thing right now." Ike turned back around and knelt down before Soren. "Although apparently you made a better first impression on me than I did on you."
"W-what makes you say that?"
"Because you said you don't believe in love at first sight, right?"
Before Soren could correct Ike by telling him the event was actually the second time they'd seen each other, he was interrupted by lips pressing gently against his, tender and warm. He stopped breathing for a moment, the shock sweeping over him and sending his mind reeling. Why me? Why now? How am I in any way deserving of this? But as Ike slid a hand up his slim and bony arm and pulled him closer, embracing Soren without shame for what he was and how different they were, Soren realized that it didn't matter. Ike was here, doing this on his own accord. It didn't make sense, but that didn't mean it wasn't a real manifestation of what Ike felt for him. He would be doing them both a great disfavor by dismissing it. This was what he had been wanting and waiting for, all this time. He owed it to himself, and to Ike, to believe in it without hesitation.
Ike pulled away slowly, his every movement agonizing. "I'm glad you found your way here, somehow," he said simply. "I don't know what brought you, but I'm glad it did."
Soren nodded, swallowing back the words rising in his throat. You, you brought me here. All this time, every second, every moment from the first time I saw you, it has been and always will be you. You are everything that defines me. You are the one thing that has ever made me happy. Just you.
But he held this confession in his heart, knowing now was not the time. Maybe one day Ike would remember for himself, and Soren wouldn't have to be afraid to recount the sorrow he had to go through to find him again, all the pain and rejection that had hardened his heart against the world. As for now, the memory they currently shared was enough. It may not have been first sight, but Soren knew better that the second time was the sweetest, and that nothing would ever best the feeling of seeing a face after anticipating it with so much hope and longing after seeing it once before branded it forever in his mind and heart.