Soren woke up in a bed that was a whole lot larger and a whole lot softer than he was used to. He sat up halfway, still dazed from sleep, and looked around the room with a vague sense of bewilderment. Light poured in from a vaulted window and fell in streaks across an incredibly expensive-looking marble floor. It took him several minutes to realize where he was, and then a few more to remember what he was doing there.

He wiggled his toes beneath the sheets, amazed at how cool and clean the linens felt, before slipping out to one side and placing his bare feet on the floor. He yawned and stretched, shrugging into a dressing gown that had been folded up on the nightstand. A vanity stood off to one side, and he made his way over to it to make use of the basin. He hadn't had a proper bath in days and he was starting to feel it. He scrubbed at his face and arms with cool, faintly perfumed water, until he felt at least slightly more human. Looking in the mirror, he noted with some despair that his hair was a bit of a different story.

He sighed and picked up an ivory comb that rested on the vanity. He weighed it in his hand, surprised by the lightness of it, before turning to his reflection and setting to work on the tangled mess that fell around his shoulders. He had only gotten about half of it done, and his arms were starting to tire, when there a knock came at the door.

"Come in," he called through his teeth, which were currently holding one of the ties to his hair. His hands were entirely occupied with a stubborn rat's nest that had developed on the back of his head. Abduction was apparently very hard on one's personal grooming.

The door opened tentatively. Kurthnaga poked his head in and Soren caught a glimpse of his characteristic blue-green hair in the mirror.

"Oh, it's you," he said, his voice still muffled by the tie he held in his mouth. "Uh, sorry. I'm having a bit of trouble here."

The prince smiled and stepped in the rest of the way, letting the door fall closed behind him. He padded over to where Soren was standing and inspected the scene with bemused interest.

"Do you want some help?" he finally asked, after watching Soren struggle for several minutes with a particularly nasty tangle.

"I'm fine," the sage snapped. He tugged forcefully and winced when several strands pulled out in the comb. "Ow!"

"Careful!" Kurthnaga laughed, reaching up to ease the comb out of Soren's hands. "Your hair's too lovely to rip out like that. Let me do it. I won't hurt you, I promise."

Soren started to object, but was stilled by a stern look from the prince. He sighed and folded his arms over his chest. He had known the boy for a day and a half and he already knew there was no point in arguing about it.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, smoothing out a piece of Soren's hair with surprisingly skilled fingers. "I trust you were comfortable."

"Mmm," Soren murmured. "It was fine. Maybe a bit big for my tastes..." he trailed off, fighting the urge to yawn. He had to admit it was surprisingly pleasant to have his hair brushed by someone else. It wasn't something he had ever experienced before.

"Ah, I'm sorry about that. We tend to like a lot of space."

"Who, Goldoans?"

Kurthnaga laughed. "No, royalty."

Soren flushed. Even in the middle of all this wealth and comfort, he had managed to forget that his host was the heir to an entire nation. He had almost taken to thinking of him as a normal boy Ð energetic, idealistic, and more than a little petulant. Never mind that he was ancient by most standards.

"Kurthnaga," he mused, eyeing him in the mirror. "If you're the prince of Goldoa, how is it that we're able to stay here in secret? Doesn't the king know where you are?"

"He does know where I am. I come here to get away sometimes. Well, more than sometimes. I like to stay close to the coast, and far away from the capital, whenever possible."

"How can you just abandon your responsibilities like that?"

Kurthnaga laughed, a soft but bright sound that floated in the air above them. "What responsibilities? Do you know how old my father is? I don't believe he ever intends to die." He raised the comb and dragged it through Soren's hair with relatively little resistance. "That's better. I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"Not at all," Soren admitted. "It actually feels kind of nice."

Kurthnaga paused and looked at him in the mirror. A proud smile broke out over his face. "Really?"

"Is it that surprising?"

"I kind of thought you hated everything."

Soren gave him a frigid glare and he chuckled softly. They stood in mutual silence for a few minutes, Kurthnaga still working the comb through Soren's hair, while he watched his progress in the mirror. When most of the tangles had been straightened out, and his hair fell straight down his back and to his shoulders like it normally did, Kurthnaga reached around him to put the comb down and grab one of his hair ties off the vanity.

"What are you doing?" Soren asked, half turning his head.

"Be still," Kurthnaga ordered. He gathered Soren's hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck and began to braid it into a thick cord. Soren squirmed a little. He was starting to feel a little strange at all this attention, like a small child being tended to by his mother. Or at the very least, what he imagined a small child being tended to by his mother would feel like. It wasn't as though he had any memories of that particular experience.

Kurthnaga finished the long braid and tied it off before letting it fall down Soren's back. "There," he said with a wink. "That should keep your hair out of trouble for a little while at least."

"Hmph. It wouldn't have been so bad in the first place if I hadn't been kidnapped, you know," responded Soren haughtily, reaching behind his head to touch the braid. He could never be bothered to braid his hair - it was too much trouble, and no one had ever offered to do it before. As strange as it was, its reassuring weight on the back of his neck made him feel a little bit less alone.

"Point taken," Kurthnaga laughed, then turned and crossed the room to a tall wardrobe that stood in the corner. "Now then, let's get you some decent clothes to wear. You're about my size, so there must be something here that would fit you." He tugged open a drawer and started to dig around in a pile of brightly colored fabric.

"Wait a minute. What's wrong with my clothes?" Soren gestured to indicate his robe and cloak, which were slung over a nearby chair.

"Nothing," Kurthnaga called back, his voice slightly muffled by the wardrobe. "But this is a tropical climate. You'll sweat to death in those heavy black robes."

"I'm really okay, thank you." He watched a few entirely-too-revealing garments fly through the air over the young dragon's shoulder. He sighed and stooped to pick one up. It was barely more than a scrap of colored silk. He couldn't even figure out where his arms were supposed to go.

"Nonsense, I insist. I don't mind sharing with you." Another garment came flying towards him. This one might have been pants.

"Kurthnaga, I cannot wear these!"

The prince stopped digging and looked up. "Why not?" he asked. "They should fit."

Soren flushed. "It's not... that... it's just..." He held up one of the proffered shirts. "There's barely any fabric here! I can't... expose that much..."

Kurthnaga blinked once before his puzzled expression resolved into understanding. "Oh! You're being modest!" He looked like it was the most novel thing he'd ever heard. "There's no need for that. There's no one here but me and Gareth and the servants." Soren gave him a dismayed look and he turned back to the wardrobe to produce a short robe. "Here. Would this be better?"

Soren walked over and inspected the robe. It was bright blue with black trim, and though it was very soft and light in his hands, the fabric seemed surprisingly sturdy. It looked like it would only come down to about the knees, but at least it covered his arms and two ebony clasps would ensure it stayed closed. He nodded hesitantly.

Kurthnaga smiled and handed him the garment along with a matching black sash. "Good. Now go ahead and change, and I'll meet you downstairs. Then we can decide what to do today." He turned and practically skipped out of the room. Soren watched him go with a weary sigh.

He held out the robe in front of him and eyed it skeptically. He had the feeling that it was going to be a very long week.

Ike woke up in a bed that was a whole lot smaller and a whole lot less comfortable than he was used to. He groaned and rolled over, feeling around with one hand for a favorite pillow that wasn't there. Instead, he encountered a very unexpected handful of Boyd, who was still snoring gently and curled around the blanket he had managed to co-opt during the night.

"Mmmm," the boy murmured, snuggling his face into the wooly bundle. "Titania... you're so soft..."

Ike's eyes snapped open and he yanked his hand back. Boyd was definitely not his favorite pillow. He ran his fingers through his hair and sat up stiffly. Piece by piece, his surroundings registered on his senses; grimy stone walls, two bedrolls pushed together, a dark and unfamiliar room. They were somewhere in central Gallia, far from any civilization. Thankfully they had been lucky enough to find an abandoned church to claim shelter for the night.

Ike looked up at an arched window that was cut into the crumbling wall. Pieces of cast iron jutted out at uneven intervals, the last remnants of a stained glass window that had once resided there. Through the window he could still see stars, and only the very first blue glow of dawn was creeping over the horizon.

He guessed there was at least an hour or so before sunrise. He contemplated wrestling the blanket away from Boyd and trying to go back to sleep, but waking up once had been hard enough and he didn't particularly want to go through it again. Not to mention he would feel a little guilty disturbing Boyd's pleasant, if creepy, dream. So instead, he stood and wrapped his cloak closer around him, his breath coming in steamy little puffs in the chilly air.

He strode over to the doorway to the church and peered out into the yard. The pegasi were still sleeping peacefully, their great wings folded against their backs and legs tucked beneath them. Their riders, two Crimean knights Elincia had been kind enough to provide, were curled against the mystical beasts. They had insisted on that, even in the cold. Ike hugged himself and leaned against the doorframe with one shoulder.

"Couldn't sleep?" a gruff, not entirely awake voice came from behind him. He turned and saw Boyd shuffle to his feet and stretch.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

Boyd scratched himself and ambled over to the door. "Nah. I was just having this really weird dream, though."

Ike smirked and looked back out at the budding sunrise. The stars still shimmered in the sky and pricked through the pink glow on the horizon. He sighed almost inaudibly. The night sky reminded him of Soren - it always had. They used to stay up late and run outside, deep into the meadow and the tall grass, and lay it all down like a bed. Then they would lay on their backs and watch the stars, and Soren would point out all the constellations that he knew. Ike still remembered them.

"Thinking about Soren?" Boyd's voice disturbed the silence.

"Yeah," he admitted. "About when we were kids, actually." He laughed quietly and one of the pegasi stirred at the noise. "He knew everything, even back then."

"He's pretty smart, yeah."

"And a lot more than that."

Boyd frowned. "He'll be okay. We'll find him."

"I know that." Ike paused and chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. "He's a survivor."

"And you're a hero," Boyd said, delivering a reassuring clap on his shoulder.

Ike sighed. He hated that word. "Boyd, you know that I -"

"Yeah, yeah. Not liking it doesn't make it not true."

Ike shifted uncomfortably and stared ahead, his eyes glued to the horizon. They stood together quietly for a long time. He was half-expecting Boyd to leave and go eat some breakfast or get ready for the long flight, but his friend remained at his side until the silence grew unbearably expectant.

"You're not going to give up on this one, are you?" he sighed.

He could practically hear Boyd grinning. "Nope. You're brooding about something, and I'm not leavin' until you get whatever it is off your chest."

Ike suppressed a smile. Typical Boyd. He never could stand it when he kept secrets. "Fine. You really want to know?"

"I really do!"

A pause. "I think I might be in love with him."

"Now that's not - wait, what? You... what?"

"I think I'm in love with him. Been wondering about it for quite some time now, actually." Ike continued to look out over the yard and waited patiently for the other shoe to drop.

Boyd just kind of slumped against the doorframe, the gears in his head obviously taking a while to chew this one up. "Then you... he... wait. Stop. Love? How do you know?"

"Well, I don't. That's kind of the point. But... I need him, Boyd. More than I need anyone else. It scares me sometimes."

"...Is that really true?" Boyd asked. He shook his head slowly. "Why didn't you ever... you know, do anything about it?"

Ike turned and looked at him in surprise. "What was I supposed to do? He was with me. I thought that was enough."

"Enough for what?"

"Well, I don't know... a relationship I suppose."

Boyd gaped. "It is most definitely not enough."

"How do you know?"

"I know."

Ike frowned. This wasn't really the reaction he had been expecting. "...This is different."

"Why, 'cause you're both guys? Believe me, that doesn't stop people."

"No... yes. No. That's not why. I just... didn't want to complicate things."

Boyd considered that for a moment. "Have you ever told him?"

"No."

"Then how do you know it would complicate things?"

Ike shook his head a bit stubbornly. "It might. And besides, what good would it have done anyway? Things were fine the way they were."

Boyd pinched the bridge of his nose. "How a guy like you managed to save the world is beyond me."

Ike blinked. "Well... Soren was helping."

"Ike, you have to tell him!"

"Doesn't he already know?"

"I don't think it works that way." Boyd sighed and rolled his eyes up like he was talking to a small child. "Listen, this is a pretty big deal... y'know, love..."

"I am aware of that."

"Right. I know you are. I do. Just listen for a minute." Boyd furrowed his brow. He was clearly trying very hard to play the role of older brother at the moment, and Ike didn't see much point in resisting it, so he just let the man talk. "He's your best friend, right?"

"Of course."

"Then it's not fair for you to keep this from him!"

"But I'm not even sure how I feel." Ike turned towards him. "I'm not sure..." he paused, then sighed and his shoulders fell. "About anything. Really."

Boyd pursed his lips. "Then maybe he can help you be sure." A slow smile broke out over his face. "After all, he is really smart. Right?"

Blue eyes held green ones for a long, heavy moment before Ike chuckled and shook his head. He did have to concede that point. "You're right. I know you're right. Thanks, Boyd," he said warmly, pulling him into a rough bear hug. "You know I love you?"

The other man drew back and gave him a wary look. "Whoa. Don't get ideas now. Soren I can't speak for, but I definitely couldn't take waking up to your ugly mug every day."

Ike scoffed and punched him lightly on the arm. "C'mon, let's get packed up. We've got a long day ahead of us."

Just then, the sun broke over the horizon, and long streams of light flooded around their shapes into the church, casting the tall shadow-forms of two men onto the cracked stone floor.

Soren and Kurthnaga ended up spending the afternoon on a long, circuitous walk along the edge of the jungle and down towards the bay. The sage was actually quite grateful for the lighter clothing he was wearing, because the sun was oppressive and he would have been very uncomfortable in his heavy robes.

Truthfully, he was already starting to feel exhausted. Kurthnaga wanted to show him everything, and besides being completely unfazed by the heat, he had a seemingly endless store of energy. They spent hours looking at rare flowers, rainbow-colored birds, dragonflies with long, shimmering wings, and rock formations that Kurthnaga lovingly pointed out as favorite playgrounds of his youth. Soren was curious about these things, to be sure, but he probably would have been just as happy reading about them. It certainly would have been a lot less sweaty.

They ended up on the beach just as the sun was finally easing up a little and falling lower in the sky. The bay was still strikingly quiet, and they both stopped talking to listen to the sounds of the tide as they abandoned their sandals and walked barefoot along the water's edge.

It was Soren that spoke first. "Kurthnaga."

Hair that matched the sea swept against his shoulders as he turned his head. "Yes?"

"I said I was willing to stay here for a week."

The young prince smiled. "So you did."

"There's something I'm worried about, however."

"What's that?"

Soren slowed and came to a stop. Warm water licked the tips of his sand-encrusted toes. "I believe someone may be looking for me."

Kurthnaga paused and turned to look at him. "I really don't expect any of your beorc friends will be able to find you here," he said, a bit incredulously.

"You don't understand. I'm more worried that he's going to get hurt trying to find me. The Goldoans aren't renowned for their hospitality towards beorc intruders, even this one."

The young prince tilted his head to the side. "Who are we talking about here?" he asked curiously, his soft voice ringing a little in the warm air.

Soren sighed and shuffled his feet a little in the sand. "Actually... I believe you've met."

Kurthnaga looked thoughtful for a moment before realization dawned on his features. "Do you mean Ike? That young man you were traveling with when you brushed against our shores?" A glimmer of amusement shown in his amber eyes. "I've heard tell that they're calling him a hero these days. You believe he is looking for you?"

Soren flushed. "I, uh... well, maybe..."

"Mmm," the young prince nodded knowingly. "This isn't quite what I expected, but certainly interesting." He tucked his hands behind his back and bowed slightly to look up at Soren, who was trying very hard to hide behind his hair. "Do you mind telling me what kind of relationship you share with that boy?"

"It's not like that! I work for him, that's all!"

"And does he exercise the same diligence in pursuing all of his employees?"

"Er..." Soren faltered. He felt as though his face was about to burn off. His relationship with Ike was the last thing he had wanted to discuss with his royal host. "Well, we've known each other for a long time..."

Kurthnaga straightened and smiled. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. You love him, don't you?"

Soren made a noise of surprise and tried to cover for it by coughing. "What are you talking about? He's my best -"

"Soren," the prince laughed, his face open and friendly. "Dragons have a very good sense of smell. It would be hard to hide that kind of reaction from any of us."

"I really don't know what you mean by that."

"And that was a lie. We can tell that too."

Soren scowled. This was not what he intended at all - he really was just worried about Ike. Never mind what he felt for the man, he knew that Ike wouldn't stop until he found and preferably maimed the people that were responsible for hurting him. That was just who Ike was; he'd been that way ever since they were children. If he tracked them down to Goldoa, then he could get himself into some serious trouble, or worse. "Kurthnaga, I just want to make sure that he doesn't get harmed or killed by one of your border patrols. Whatever else you think, I would thank you kindly to keep your very good nose out of it."

The prince frowned in concern. "If that's all, then I can arrange it, but..."

"That's all. I mean it." He turned to walk away, wanting the conversation to be over, but a surprisingly strong hand grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back. "Hey!"

"Soren, do people usually just let you run away like that?" the dragon asked, his voice stern. Their faces were very close and Soren could feel his breath, distressingly hot on his face.

"What are you doing? Let me go!" he tried to wrench his hand back, but he was not nearly strong enough. He doubted even Ike would be strong enough.

Kurthnaga frowned. "Be still! I don't mean to hurt you. It's just that this is the second thing you have tried to turn your back on, and I'm getting a little weary of it."

"That's my right," Soren spat, struggling. His braid flopped back and forth as he tried to jerk backwards.

Kurthnaga tugged him closer, effectively immobilizing him. "Listen to me. What are you so afraid of?"

"Nothing!"

"Then why won't you talk about Ike?"

"Because it's not -"

Amber eyes flashed. "Don't lie to me."

Soren fell silent. He turned his head to the side and clenched his eyes shut. "...You don't understand."

Kurthnaga eased his grip a little. "Try me."

"I bet you think love is just love. Well, this is different, okay? There's no hope or future in it. Because of what I am. Because of what your sister made me." He tugged his arms free and Kurthnaga let him go. He stumbled backward a few steps and hugged himself tightly. "You're treating me like... I don't know. Like one of you."

"Soren, I think you are."

"I'm not! And I'm not one of them, either, no matter how much Ike... no matter how much they treat me like I am." He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face. He didn't want to talk about this. He didn't understand why Kurthnaga kept making him.

The young dragon just looked back at him. "Soren..." he said gently, without moving. The wind picked up and stirred his hair. "Why do you hate yourself so much?"

Soren froze. He turned away, wanting to hide his face. The ocean continued to lap at his feet in the same, rhythmic, back-and-forth motion. "...Wouldn't you?" he spoke after a long silence.

There was a small splashing sound behind him, and he half turned to see Kurthnaga step towards him. The prince reached out tentatively, then slid his arms around Soren's waist. The sage tensed, but didn't resist, letting the boy settle against his back in a soft and gentle embrace. He leaned his head on Soren's shoulder and took a deep breath.

"You sound like her," he said softly. Soren kept his eyes on the water, watching it flicker and gleam in the waning sun. "At the end. I think... she almost wanted to die."

"Why? I thought she was in love."

"Yes. And that's exactly why. You see, she knew that she would easily outlive her husband, and her children, and their children." He sighed, and Soren could feel it, cool on the side of his neck. "You're conscious of that too, aren't you?"

Soren shivered. He suddenly felt very small in the other man's arms. "I am... conscious of that..." he echoed quietly.

"That's why you hide your body under all those heavy clothes."

He winced. It was true. No one else in the world knew it, but it was true. "I haven't visibly aged in five years," he said in a bland, almost detached voice. "Ike knows what I am, but not... what it means. I think he thinks it's good enough to just accept me. And so I wanted to hide..." he trailed off and let his eyes fall closed. "I just didn't want him to worry."

Kurthnaga tightened his arms around Soren's waist. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Soren wanted to say it wasn't his fault, but he didn't really believe that, so instead he said nothing.

"That's what family is good for," Kurthnaga sighed, after a time. The sun was now bleeding into the horizon, and Soren was starting to feel a bit cold. "They can always relate to the things you go through, because nothing in life is ever truly linear."

The prince held his young nephew for a little bit longer before they turned back towards the villa, and as they walked in heavy silence, he knew what it was that he had to do.

It was Ike that saw it first. A dark, heavy smudge against the otherwise clear sky, far off in the distance but rapidly getting closer.

He nudged the pegasus knight that he was riding behind. "What's that?" he asked, raising his voice over the sound of the wind. He pointed in the direction of the smudge. "Corsairs?"

The rider squinted, then waved to the other pegasus knight with a series of quick hand gestures. They banked in unison. "Too big," he responded. "That's a wyvern, or worse. Either way, it's probably trouble. Best to just avoid it."

Ike watched the distant creature warily. They were very close to Goldoa now, and the risk of encountering enemy border patrols was certainly not absent from his mind. He loosened his sword in its sheathe. He wasn't accustomed to mounted combat, but he figured he could still defend himself if necessary.

They continued on for a while, but didn't seem to make any decent headway. Ike pointed this out to the rider.

"I know," he responded. "If it's a wyvern, then it's weighed down by a rider and we can probably outrun it. But something moving that fast? I don't think it's a wyvern." He whistled to the other rider and gestured again. This time they didn't change course, but instead took out their lances and prepared for combat. "Please hold on tight, commander. We may have to engage."

Ike marveled at their bravery. It didn't seem that two lone pegasus knights burdened with passengers had any fighting chance against a dragon. "Give me something I can use to fight," he said quickly, reaching to dig around in the packs at the side of the great beast. He settled on a set of javelins - he had no idea how to handle a spear, but he figured he knew how to throw something at the enemy, pointy end first. He looked over at Boyd, who was grinning like an idiot and brandishing a set of sick-looking tomahawks. They certainly weren't going down without a fight.

As the creature got closer and closer, Ike held his weapon up to his shoulder. It was most definitely a dragon, and a huge one. It was bright red and its scales shone almost painfully bright. He squinted and tried to gauge the distance, and when he felt like the enemy was in range, he gave a mighty roar and let the javelin fly.

He was actually quite proud of himself, until the dragon made a noise that might have been a laugh and knocked the tiny weapon out of the sky with the swipe of one forearm. Ike swallowed and frantically pondered plan B.

Thankfully, he didn't have to think too hard, because the dragon came to a hovering stop in the air, and called out his name.

At least, he thought it was his name. "Whaaat?" he yelled back. The sound of flapping wings seemed to drown out all else.

"Are you Ike?" the creature growled. It sounded irritated.

"Um. Yes?" he called back. He wondered if this was one of those situations in which he should lie about his identity.

The dragon puffed. "Finally." It came a little closer. "I am here on the orders of His Majesty Kurthnaga, the Prince of Goldoa, to escort you to his private villa on the southern coast."

Ike blinked. "Er. Well, I appreciate the welcome, but we actually have some business to -"

"The offer is not negotiable." The dragon puffed again, this time letting a small flame lick the corners of its mouth.

"Oh." Ike looked over at Boyd, who just shrugged. "Er. Well then, lead on. I suppose." Better than dying, he thought, and at least it gets us safely into Goldoa.

Besides, the last time they were there, Kurthnaga had been pretty nice. He hoped, as they changed course, that this time he had something good to say as well.