Author's Notes: I stuck in another subplot to make this chapter of substantial length. Yay. XD

Firstly, a big, loud, and hopefully heartwarming "THAAAAANK YOUUUUU!" to all the people who reviewed. :3

... Secondly, fic. Because I know it's more interesting than my babbling.

Chapter Two – Delirium

Elincia asks the oddest things. I would say that is it a womanly madness, but in this case – and likely this case only – it is an actual political, relevant question.

"Ike would make a fine king over time," I answered her. "He is a natural leader, honest and merciful, charismatic." I took a pin into my mouth and began to arrange her hair.

"But, Soren..."

I took the pin into my hand, holding her ponytail with the other. "Yes?"

Elincia seemed to think her planned statement over and shook her head. "Never mind."

"Out with it," I ordered.

She flinched slightly. "Well... I don't recall you liking those characteristics in a leader..."

I shrugged, taking the pin back into my mouth and looping her hair around on her head, something I had become to be skilled in throughout the past few days. I placed the hairpin in to secure the position. "My personal preferences have nothing to do with the ideals that the people of Crimea hold. For better or for worse."

She played with the hem of her dress in her hands, not willing to look at me. "Would he like that position, though?"

"Most likely not. But he knows that this is the price he pays."

"What's he think of it?" she asked, her head moving slightly to watch as I strolled across the room to replace the chest of hairpins.

"He thinks it's a ridiculously low price for a new life's creation. He almost finds it insultingly low, although he's too busy being elated to be insulted."

I couldn't tell if she was disappointed or relieved, her mouth an odd shape across her face. "Oh. I suppose that's good for him, then."

I spent the afternoon in the library, mostly to relieve myself of tension. Almost all research on the matter concludes that stress on one's body induces sickness, fatigue, reduced clarity of thought, etc. An illness has been ailing many across our company, causing fever, malaise, irritability, and in some cases, vomiting.

Read some old analytical pieces on old plays, not a subject of familiarity – which is good. A fresh presentation rather than one that I must worry over and apply to many other things I've read. (Although, not having read plays myself, I mulled anyway over many of the points presented.)

Time passed, and the piece was a good distraction.

Until the news came from Ike that she is ill, the child may be in danger. She is ill, mad from pregnancy, and screaming deliriously and unable to be pacified. If the disease does not kill it, she may very well do so. I've yet to be a witness, and I doubt that I would wish to be.

Ike is not a good of an actor as may be required for this, either. He is distracted, staring straight ahead in the mess hall at some vacant point in the air, not noticing as he passes me in the hall.

He said that he loved the child. He lamented on the months he had waited for it to emerge, and now, being so close, he beat the wall in silence as he contemplated its possible death.

Soren was situated in his room, quietly upset at himself and Elincia when Ike came to him, while probably in a mindset for the worse. He looked up, seeing Ike and instantly wondering about many things at once, unable to muster a greeting. But in the end, it appeared to be pointless, as Ike abruptly started, "I suppose you may not be the best person for this sort of thing, but..."

Soren rose and gestured to the chair. "Sit."

"I couldn't."

"I told you to sit."

Ike obeyed, noting that it was, after all, a very comfortable chair. (Of course, if he were less distracted at the moment, he would've also realized that it must be comfortable if Soren sat in it for hours on end.)

"Is it really possible to hurt this much over a girl?" Ike wondered.

Soren's fingers gave a nervous jolt where they laid on his lap. "I wouldn't know."

Noon came quickly and painlessly, the first half of the day generally shrouded too far into the reunion's natural cheer to be depressed by either Soren or bad news. Noon did not leave as happily as it arrived, however.

Mordecai sat patiently as Elincia's face portrayed a variety of expressions as she read the scroll, occasionally letting out murmurs of, "Oh dear..." or "Goddess, how could they?" Lethe was less composed, and while appearing to be in a proper, stoic position, allowed her tail to swish lightly below the table. Naesala was neither nervous nor surprised, instead observing the quality of the table with some disdain.

Finally, Elincia lowered the scroll from her horrified face and spoke the words that the others almost expected to hear. "Is it really true? Oh, why would they?"

"They're stupid humans," Lethe grumbled, tail swishing.

"But... with the war being over, I thought..." Elincia shook her head, rolling the scroll back to its original position and letting it rest several feet in front of her, not wanting to touch it, as if it were somehow contaminated by the doings that it described.

"It's not new," Naesala observed. "It's not really unexpected, either." He sighed and leaned back, as if to say, Ah, when will they learn?

"But I was hoping that they would change, wake up, perhaps..."

Lethe let out a low hiss. "Did you really think they'd change so quickly? You frail beorc would likely be long dead by the time that what you expect becomes reality, or even close."

"Lethe," Mordecai said in his deep voice with a frown, "our King does not like that sort of talk. He hopes that all goes well."

"Hopes?" Lethe repeated with an almost mocking snicker. "What are a foreign king's hopes to an unruly mob?"

"What did you do to Ike?"

Elincia pressed the spoon to her lips and looked at Soren, surprised. "What?"

Soren leaned forward in his chair in the mess hall, raking his fork through the arrangement of corn that laid patiently in his plate. "Something happened this morning, didn't it?"

"Nothing." Elincia frowned. "Well... the ambassadors arrived. Mordecai, Lethe, King Kilvas. We had a meeting." She took a spoonful of the soup daintily and somewhat forcefully, in the true fashion of one who painstakingly learns how to eat as a noble. "A few hours ago, Ilyana passed by with Muston while they were off to Toha for a quick trade management..." Elincia looked at Soren honestly. "I can't remember Ike being around me at all for the morning, actually."

Soren studied Elincia for a moment, face neutral. "You're lying."

"No, no, I'm not." Elincia shook her head. "And I wanted to ask him if he would like me to cook, too..." She took another stiffly delivered spoonful of the soup.

Soren supported his chin on his hands for a moment, thinking. He eyed Elincia warily, wondering whether or not it would be acceptable for him to repeat Ike's words. Mist passed by with a quick, "Hi, Soren!" as she ran to light the torches on the walls. Soren did not notice.

"You didn't have any contact at all?"

"None, Soren!" She sighed. "Why are you asking me this? What did I do?"

Soren continued to gaze at her, thinking. "Ike... mentioned having issues with a girl earlier today."

"It wasn't me," she said quietly, stirring the soup and blowing at it delicately. "Perhaps... he's involved with someone else?"

"Highly unlikely," he muttered. "Unless you're suggesting something improbable with Mist, you're the only female he could possibly have an affair with."

"Soren, I promise you, it wasn't me." She shook her head. "I'm upset over this, too..." Her eyebrows furrowed in worry. "And he didn't tell me, either."

Soren looked her over, cocking his head, slightly tight with concentration. Elincia looked back for a moment, but wilted under his sharp stare and looked down at her soup, taking a timid bite.

Hesitantly, she uttered, "... Soren?"

"Yes?"

"Do you... and Ike...?"

He rolled his eyes and attempted to appear to dismiss it. "I'm quite obviously not a female."

Elincia was curious now, touching the spoon to her lips again, apparently a gesture of thought. "I recall that once, my father was irate when he learned about my cousin's affair with a girl."

"What would be the problem in that?"

Elincia gave Soren a very feminist glare. "Not all cousins are male."

"Oh. ... Oh. I see." He brought his hand to his forehead in irritation. "That would be... an odd cousin of yours."

"You don't need to be snappy at me, Soren," Elincia defended softly. "I was just pointing out that it exists."

"So are you suggesting that I should question the men when Ike very blatantly specified that it was a female?"

Elincia looked away from Soren shyly. "Well, no, that's not really what I..."

"Then it's irrelevant."

She gave him a wounded look and took another awkward spoonful of the soup. After a few moments, she voiced meekly, "I'm sorry."

Soren looked a bit surprised, jolted out of his thoughts to stare at Elincia. "For?" A period of complete confusion passed, and he shook his head and left the dining hall with a, "Never mind."

It was still early enough in the day, he decided, to actually do something, rather than lounging around the fort and watching without interest as Soren and Elincia bickered over something -- apparently Ike.

He left, attempting to find something to entertain himself with. Perhaps that girl was still here, that girl who would turn over a great deal of money for a portion of his food.

Instead, turning down an unfamiliar hallway, he heard the sounds of moaning.

He stood next to the door, arms crossed; staring at the wall, but his ears plenty enough alert. An amused smile crossed his face and remained there, embedded slightly with greed. He ruffled his wings slightly, arrogantly. Sounds wafted from the room beside him – lustful sounds, sounds of pleasure, elation. Secret elation, though no more the case. Yet they whispered the other's name as if they didn't want the world to hear them; yet they whispered the other's name so loudly, unable to suppress their passion.

He heard two names, and he raised his eyebrow in interest. He had expected Elincia. But rather, the masculine voice that could only have been Ike's spoke quite another name; and the feminine voice from within was more ferally seductive than he would've expected Elincia's to be.

There was a light tapping against the wall, and he shifted away from the line of sight from the gap in the door, thinking of a quick excuse should they exit the room. But this was unnecessary. They were completely woven within the spell of the moment and oblivious to the shifting of the door.

He smiled a slightly crooked smile. He saw flashes of the couple from the gap, confirming his suspicions.

My, what an interesting situation. Who would pay the most for this? he pondered. The obvious answer came quickly to him.

Soren looked up from his desk. "King Kilvas? State your order of business."

The light flooded in from the outside into Soren's ever-dark room. The crow stood in the doorway, leaning against it with his forearm, a completely conniving look on his face. "Oh, but I'd require a bit of a fee for this."

Endnotes: Knowing a few of my readers, I bet I'm going to be accused of writing Naesala/Soren prostitute fic.

I assure you, this is a false assumption.