crack will revive the community, right?
It's the return of my random crack pairing, Naesala/Ike! No idea how long this will end up being, but hey, at least I have about half the plot sort of mapped out. Ish. This is the sequel to Black Feather, so you should probably read that first, since I plan on making some refrences to it, but I don't think it will be absolutely necesary.
Title: Black Wings
Pairings: Naesala/Ike, Soren/Reyson, maybe more later
rating: PG-13 or so overall, nothing really offensive in this chapter
Chapter the First
“Man, it’s hotter here than last time we came!” whined Boyd. He swatted irritably at the cloud of insects swarming his head with a huge leaf he had cut off some plant, “It’s buggier, too. Isn’t there a faster way through the jungle?”
“It’s not, and there’s not. We happen to be on the only road through here, but you can try your luck blazing a new trail if you like.” said Soren, “Just don’t get lost in the undergrowth.”
Mist giggled “That would be pretty bad, Boyd. Your hair matches the plants, so we’d never be able to find you again!”
“Oh, very funny, miss ride-on-a-pony-while-the-rest-of-us-walk.
“He’s not a pony!”
“Don’t mind him, Mist,” said Oscar soothingly, “He just gets irritable when he’s tired.”
“And the rest of the time, too.” Mist added.
“I hear that, you little—“
“Oh come on, guys, stop fighting. We’re almost there, anyway.” Ike called over his shoulder.
“Yes, sir!” Oscar replied cheerfully. Mist stuck her tongue out at Boyd, who merely rolled his eyes and waved away another cloud of bugs.
Ike sighed. Paying a visit to the king of Gallia had seemed like a perfectly good idea when the invitation had arrived the week before; the mercenaries had hit a slow spell, and Mist wanted to visit their father’s grave. So did he, for that matter. So much had happened since the war ended—was that two years ago, now? He had been so busy helping rebuild the capital and prepare for Elincia’s coronation, then re-establishing himself as a mercenary, he had almost lost track of time. He wanted some time to reflect, and Gallia had seemed a good place to do it.
Of course, that was before some new band of ruffians surfaced in Crimea, forcing him to leave half the company behind. Shinon (and thus Gatrie) was perfectly happy to stay out of laguz country, but Ike felt bad about leaving Titania behind. He knew Gallia held fond memories for her, and she probably wanted to see Greil’s last resting place as well, but…
But she is the Deputy Commander, it’s her job to take over when I can’t be there. Besides, no matter how upset she may be, Soren would kill me if I didn’t let him come.
The heron siblings and their father were still staying with Caineghis, after all.
And Shinon would take orders from Soren when wyverns become vegetarians, anyway.
Thankfully for everyone’s sanity, they were, in fact, quite close to the Gallian king’s stronghold, the moss-encrusted walls of the building rising up from the surrounding jungle. The foliage was so thick that they could neither see it nor hear the sounds of civilization until they were nearly upon it, almost as if it had appeared from nowhere. Ranulf was waiting for them, a bright scrap of blue against the darker earth tones of the massive gates.
“Well met, Ike. I thought I might see you today. I hope there isn’t any sort of emergency we’re keeping you from, that requires you to leave so many people behind?”
“How do these guys know this stuff?” Boyd muttered. Soren stifled the urge to roll his eyes; he had seen the Gallian scout following them earlier that day, even if Boyd obviously had not.
“Nah, just some bandits, nothing Titania and the rest can’t handle.” Ike smiled, “It’s good to see you again, Ranulf.”
“The pleasure is mine, dear general.” Ranulf flourished a bow, flicking his tail, and grinned to see Ike shift uncomfortably, “Sorry, Ike, couldn’t help myself. Now, if you all would follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms. And might I suggest a quick cat bath, as well? Because, excuse my rudeness, but you lot smell like a bunch of sweaty workhorses.”
“I feel like a sweaty workhorse!” Boyd sighed.
Ranulf gave a purring sort of chuckle and waved for them to follow. He led them through the paved streets of the city proper towards the temple-like structure of the palace itself, all of it pleasantly green with creepers and lush plants from the surrounding jungle. People stopped to stare at the tiny band of beorc, some of them stopping to wave or call out a greeting, others merely giving them a glance and a smile. There were very few looks of suspicion or disgust, a welcome change from the first time Ike had been there.
“You’ll be staying in the same wing you did last time you were here.” The cat waved them towards the correct hall, “I’ll be back when the king can see you, he’s got some other… guests… right now.”
“Eh?” Ike blinked, “You mean other than the herons?”
Ranulf grimaced, “Naesala and some crows, here for ‘diplomacy.’ Not sure what they really want, though, since ‘diplomacy’ usually entails the exchange of money when it comes to Kilvas, and I can’t think of anything Caineghis would want to pay them for.”
“Maybe they’re trying to change their image?” Ike suggested, trying very hard to sound neutral.
“Hmm, maybe. That little fiasco with Reyson certainly didn’t earn them any friends, nor did siding with Daein.” He seemed to ponder for a moment, then shrugged, “Well, no matter. Who are we to try and understand the slippery minds of crows? See you in a few hours, Ike.”
Ike slipped inside his room to change and get cleaned up, smiling to himself. Hopefully they would be able to sneak in some time together without rousing any suspicions.
Soren knocked softly and let himself in, then leaned against the closed door. He looked significantly less irritable than he had earlier, dressed in fresh robes of a lighter material than what he normally wore for traveling. His hair was still slightly damp, hanging unbound around his shoulders.
“You look much happier.” Ike said, folding away his worn clothing, “Why do you insist on wearing black all the time, anyway? It has got to be incredibly uncomfortable in this heat.”
“It’s not so bad as you might think. Heat doesn’t bother me much. Ah…” he trailed off, fingers combing through his loose hair, “Naesala is here.” He said finally.
“I know.” Ike smiled, he couldn’t help it, “Ranulf told me.”
“So are you going to try and—“
“Of course,” he said, trying not to blush, “aren’t you?”
“Well, yes,” Soren was blushing rather fiercely, “but Reyson and I aren’t nearly so hormone-driven as you two seem to be.”
“Hey!”
Soren just laughed at his indignant expression, “It’s the simple truth, Ike. Don’t forget my room was next to yours the last time you and Naesala spent the night in the same building! I would prefer that the situation not repeat itself this time.
“Look, I’m sorry about that, okay?” Ike said, face burning, “But better you than someone else, right? Right?” Soren merely rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.
Ike glanced out the window. The sun had just begun to sink towards the horizon, throwing the criss-crossing network of stone walls and walkways into relief. One wall ran just beneath his window, actually, and intersected a slightly lower wall, which made a very convenient path to other parts of the palace and city.
“You should probably tie up your hair, Soren. Ranulf should be back soon.”
“Right. In that case, I’m heading back to my room.” Soren whisked out into the hall, but poked his head back through the door, “And, Ike?”
“What?”
“My room is right next to yours. Again.”
“Alright, alright, I get it!” Ike sighed, “Now go on.”
“Just as long as we’re clear.” The door shut with a decisive click behind him.
Ike sighed and returned to sorting out his few belongings. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
Title: Black Wings
Pairings: Naesala/Ike, Soren/Reyson, maybe more later
rating: PG-13 or so overall, nothing really offensive in this chapter
Chapter the First
“Man, it’s hotter here than last time we came!” whined Boyd. He swatted irritably at the cloud of insects swarming his head with a huge leaf he had cut off some plant, “It’s buggier, too. Isn’t there a faster way through the jungle?”
“It’s not, and there’s not. We happen to be on the only road through here, but you can try your luck blazing a new trail if you like.” said Soren, “Just don’t get lost in the undergrowth.”
Mist giggled “That would be pretty bad, Boyd. Your hair matches the plants, so we’d never be able to find you again!”
“Oh, very funny, miss ride-on-a-pony-while-the-rest-of-us-walk.
“He’s not a pony!”
“Don’t mind him, Mist,” said Oscar soothingly, “He just gets irritable when he’s tired.”
“And the rest of the time, too.” Mist added.
“I hear that, you little—“
“Oh come on, guys, stop fighting. We’re almost there, anyway.” Ike called over his shoulder.
“Yes, sir!” Oscar replied cheerfully. Mist stuck her tongue out at Boyd, who merely rolled his eyes and waved away another cloud of bugs.
Ike sighed. Paying a visit to the king of Gallia had seemed like a perfectly good idea when the invitation had arrived the week before; the mercenaries had hit a slow spell, and Mist wanted to visit their father’s grave. So did he, for that matter. So much had happened since the war ended—was that two years ago, now? He had been so busy helping rebuild the capital and prepare for Elincia’s coronation, then re-establishing himself as a mercenary, he had almost lost track of time. He wanted some time to reflect, and Gallia had seemed a good place to do it.
Of course, that was before some new band of ruffians surfaced in Crimea, forcing him to leave half the company behind. Shinon (and thus Gatrie) was perfectly happy to stay out of laguz country, but Ike felt bad about leaving Titania behind. He knew Gallia held fond memories for her, and she probably wanted to see Greil’s last resting place as well, but…
But she is the Deputy Commander, it’s her job to take over when I can’t be there. Besides, no matter how upset she may be, Soren would kill me if I didn’t let him come.
The heron siblings and their father were still staying with Caineghis, after all.
And Shinon would take orders from Soren when wyverns become vegetarians, anyway.
Thankfully for everyone’s sanity, they were, in fact, quite close to the Gallian king’s stronghold, the moss-encrusted walls of the building rising up from the surrounding jungle. The foliage was so thick that they could neither see it nor hear the sounds of civilization until they were nearly upon it, almost as if it had appeared from nowhere. Ranulf was waiting for them, a bright scrap of blue against the darker earth tones of the massive gates.
“Well met, Ike. I thought I might see you today. I hope there isn’t any sort of emergency we’re keeping you from, that requires you to leave so many people behind?”
“How do these guys know this stuff?” Boyd muttered. Soren stifled the urge to roll his eyes; he had seen the Gallian scout following them earlier that day, even if Boyd obviously had not.
“Nah, just some bandits, nothing Titania and the rest can’t handle.” Ike smiled, “It’s good to see you again, Ranulf.”
“The pleasure is mine, dear general.” Ranulf flourished a bow, flicking his tail, and grinned to see Ike shift uncomfortably, “Sorry, Ike, couldn’t help myself. Now, if you all would follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms. And might I suggest a quick cat bath, as well? Because, excuse my rudeness, but you lot smell like a bunch of sweaty workhorses.”
“I feel like a sweaty workhorse!” Boyd sighed.
Ranulf gave a purring sort of chuckle and waved for them to follow. He led them through the paved streets of the city proper towards the temple-like structure of the palace itself, all of it pleasantly green with creepers and lush plants from the surrounding jungle. People stopped to stare at the tiny band of beorc, some of them stopping to wave or call out a greeting, others merely giving them a glance and a smile. There were very few looks of suspicion or disgust, a welcome change from the first time Ike had been there.
“You’ll be staying in the same wing you did last time you were here.” The cat waved them towards the correct hall, “I’ll be back when the king can see you, he’s got some other… guests… right now.”
“Eh?” Ike blinked, “You mean other than the herons?”
Ranulf grimaced, “Naesala and some crows, here for ‘diplomacy.’ Not sure what they really want, though, since ‘diplomacy’ usually entails the exchange of money when it comes to Kilvas, and I can’t think of anything Caineghis would want to pay them for.”
“Maybe they’re trying to change their image?” Ike suggested, trying very hard to sound neutral.
“Hmm, maybe. That little fiasco with Reyson certainly didn’t earn them any friends, nor did siding with Daein.” He seemed to ponder for a moment, then shrugged, “Well, no matter. Who are we to try and understand the slippery minds of crows? See you in a few hours, Ike.”
Ike slipped inside his room to change and get cleaned up, smiling to himself. Hopefully they would be able to sneak in some time together without rousing any suspicions.
Soren knocked softly and let himself in, then leaned against the closed door. He looked significantly less irritable than he had earlier, dressed in fresh robes of a lighter material than what he normally wore for traveling. His hair was still slightly damp, hanging unbound around his shoulders.
“You look much happier.” Ike said, folding away his worn clothing, “Why do you insist on wearing black all the time, anyway? It has got to be incredibly uncomfortable in this heat.”
“It’s not so bad as you might think. Heat doesn’t bother me much. Ah…” he trailed off, fingers combing through his loose hair, “Naesala is here.” He said finally.
“I know.” Ike smiled, he couldn’t help it, “Ranulf told me.”
“So are you going to try and—“
“Of course,” he said, trying not to blush, “aren’t you?”
“Well, yes,” Soren was blushing rather fiercely, “but Reyson and I aren’t nearly so hormone-driven as you two seem to be.”
“Hey!”
Soren just laughed at his indignant expression, “It’s the simple truth, Ike. Don’t forget my room was next to yours the last time you and Naesala spent the night in the same building! I would prefer that the situation not repeat itself this time.
“Look, I’m sorry about that, okay?” Ike said, face burning, “But better you than someone else, right? Right?” Soren merely rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.
Ike glanced out the window. The sun had just begun to sink towards the horizon, throwing the criss-crossing network of stone walls and walkways into relief. One wall ran just beneath his window, actually, and intersected a slightly lower wall, which made a very convenient path to other parts of the palace and city.
“You should probably tie up your hair, Soren. Ranulf should be back soon.”
“Right. In that case, I’m heading back to my room.” Soren whisked out into the hall, but poked his head back through the door, “And, Ike?”
“What?”
“My room is right next to yours. Again.”
“Alright, alright, I get it!” Ike sighed, “Now go on.”
“Just as long as we’re clear.” The door shut with a decisive click behind him.
Ike sighed and returned to sorting out his few belongings. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.