I don't own Fire Emblem and all that jazz. This is a SorenXIke story. If you don't like it, don't read it. M for safety. Spoilers for those who haven't finished Radiant Dawn. Takes place several years after Ike left Tellius. Minor changes to the original storyline, but it's mostly the same. Also, a lot of this is fluff, but there is an actual plot to it, despite what you may think!
A Breath Away
One: Genes
Sometimes, you come very close to things, good or bad. You're just a breath away form it. From love, from life, from hate, from death. I know what all of that's like. I've been close to all of those things. Then I've been rejected.
I was close to love. When I first met him, when I first saw him, when I first knew that I was safe with him. He had that look. My heart told me to listen to him, to trust him. But my head told me otherwise. And I was a fool when I ignored my heart that day. I turned down a chance to love.
I was close to life. When she called out to me, when she talked to me. I should have recognized that look in her eyes. The look that gave it all away. I should have seen myself in her. Known of our connection. But I was blind to a life of safety and prosperity that I could have had.
I was close to hate. When I met that uncivilized brute, when he ignored everything I said, when he treated me as though I didn't exist. My soul screamed at him. My heart filled with rage and hurt. Only my head could keep me calm around him. It stopped me from lashing out in anger.
I was close to death. So many times have I received an arrow in my breast. So many times has a sword slit me and left me to bleed. So many timed have I been set alight, electrocuted, stabbed, cut. So many times have I only made it through sheer force of will. Through him.
Every time I've come close to something, I've been pulled away for whatever reason. But I'm not going to stand for it any longer. I've lost a lover. I've lost a family. I've lost a rival. I've lost blood.
But now I've got one of those things back. And I'm not losing my chance this time. I'm not letting it go. I'm never letting him go.
"Hey, Soren!"
I'm jolted out of my thoughts and I look over my shoulder. I smile softly. "Hi, Ike."
His handsome face is solemn. He's wearing a slight frown. "Don't you think you've been cooped up in this library for a bit too long?" he asks me. His voice is overflowing with disappointment. I can tell that he's upset I'm not spending more time with him.
I find myself also frowning. "I need to study, Ike, no matter what you may think. It's important for me to keep my knowledge up-to-date. You never know when I might need it."
"Still," he says, "I think you need at least a little fresh air once in a while. Air is good for you. Exercise. You need to keep your body healthy."
I can tell where this is going. We've had this argument hundreds of times before this. "For the last time, Ike," I say with a sigh, "I am not going to spar with you."
He opens his mouth, as if to speak, then closes it again. Eventually he complains, "Why not? Why do you get to spend countless hours in this library but I don't get to spend a minute sparring with you?"
I turn away from him, looking at my book, so he doesn't see me rolling my eyes. "Because, Ike, I'm not the right build. I can't compete with you, physically."
This is true. Almost everything about Ike is big. He's over a head taller then me. And I'm guessing that he wouldn't even be able to fit in a bathtub for two, because he's too broad. His legs and arms are longer than mine, and his feet and hands and everything, except for his face. His trusting eyes aren't in proportion to the rest of his body. His nose is long but thin, and his lips are practically nonexistent—lovely, but nonexistent. Just a thin line on his face.
Our thin lips are about the only thing we have in common physically. Everywhere he's big, I'm small. I'm short and slight of frame. You could cram me into a bathtub made for a child, I'd wager. Two of my hands could fit under one of his. I'd have to jump with both feet if I wanted to stamp on his foot. My critical red eyes—red being the opposite color of blue--are a lot wider than his are. Also, my nose is short, but wide.
We're different on the inside, too. My head rules my body. His heart rules his. He's the most trusting, loving, accepted person I've ever known. And I . . . I prefer to keep my distance. My trust has been abused before. My love has been abused before. And I'm far from being accepted.
Ike is brilliant—maybe he's not as . . . scheming . . . as I am, but he knows how to work with people. I wish I could do that. He knows how to talk to people who need to listen. He knows how to listen when people need to talk. He knows how to love when someone needs to be loved. He's brilliant at what he does. And I admire that. Everyone does.
I wish I could be like Ike. I wish I were a little more knowledgeable in that area. I wish I knew how to relate to people. I wish I were admired, by anybody, let alone everybody.
I wish a lot of things. But none of them come true.
Back to Ike.
He's smirking a little now. "That may be so," he answers slowly, "but it doesn't mean you can't change that."
My mind flashes with the mental image of me, being as tall and strong and broad as Ike is. I can't help but give a quiet laugh. "I don't think that's exactly going to happen, Ike. I don't have the right genes for it."
He stares blankly at me, uncomprehending. I sigh quietly. Sometimes, Ike could be frustrating to talk to. "Genes," I explain patiently, "are what makes me, me. And what makes you, you. For example, you have Greil's genes. They were passed down to you. It's what makes you have a strong body."
His thick eyebrows come together. He's still confused, but he tries to shrug it off. "Whatever."
I close my book. It's hardly a distraction, but it's pointless. So I close it. "Okay, let me try another example. Lucia and Geoffrey. They both have light blue hair, right?" He nods. I continue, "And what makes them both have light blue hair?"
"They're . . . family," he answers. I'm sure he's confused as to how it's relevant.
"Yes. They're family. So they have the same genes. Those genes make them have the same light blue hair."
He finally understands. He nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, that makes sense. So, genes made me strong like my dad, right?"
"Yes. That's how it works."
"Only, you don't know who your family is."
My voice is flat as a respond, "No. I don't. I don't know what genes I have."
He can't contain a grin of mischief. "So, you don't know if your father had strong genes that he passed down to you."
I look down and feel blood rush to my cheeks. I walked right into trap I'd set myself. "Yeah," I mumbled in response. "I don't know."
In all honesty, I do. I know who my parents are—I figured it out in my head. I'm just not comfortable with telling Ike. Not yet. And besides, if he knew, he'd make me spar until I collapsed on the ground in exhaustion. I could never handle facing off against someone with his skill, his strength, his anything. He's just so . . . overpowering.
Suddenly I find myself being swept out of my chair. I'm in his strong arms, but I can't help but be terrified by his unexpected actions. I wrap my arms around his neck and stare into his eyes for comfort.
And comfort they give me. I can see in them, his entire heart, all of his thoughts, saying, I love you. I will never let you go. You are safe with me.
And I know I am.
