Author's note: Since I'm working on a longer project right now, I'm posting a shorter piece in the meantime. This is one I wrote a while back and polished up this morning. I'm not as comfortable writing Soren's perspective as I am writing Ike's, but hopefully I did him some justice.

Not long into the social gathering, Ike fell asleep. If he had already lacked poise compared to the trussed up nobles populating the ballroom, his current position certainly didn't do him any favors. Without a table to lean on, he'd slumped backward in his chair with his limbs sprawled in all directions. Snores emitted from his open mouth, and his head lolled over the decorated chair back.

Soren glared at a few staring women. Their now sneering eyes had been all too eager to look at Ike when he had been awake, though Ike hadn't noticed them then anymore than he did now.

Glancing with disdain at the pompous social ceremony around them, Soren considered letting Ike sleep. At least he would be spared the rest of the event. He had bemoaned attending it, asking why he needed to be there. Soren had gone through the motion of explaining that as general of an army, Ike was expected to be present at social gatherings during the rebuilding efforts. While Soren rattled on about appearances and morale, he knew it was a pointless exercise. If anything, Ike's face showed less comprehension.

"So what, I have to be a figurehead now just because I happened to be the one to find Queen Elincia back then?"

Soren could not justify this, even with all of the political knowledge in Crimea's libraries. He himself found it ridiculous. Ike had done so much more for these people than they deserved. It was mockery that they had reduced him to, as he had aptly said, a figurehead.

Soren grew livid whenever he saw Ike batted around by nobles. The whole affair had passed the stage of annoyance. During everything that Ike had been through, he had not complained. Even in the face of tragedy, he had put himself through hell to retake Crimea, despite being a mercenary with no obligation to do so. He'd worked harder than any lesser person could have imagined, harder than anybody but Soren knew, as he had been the one to gently nudge Ike awake when he fell asleep over battle plans, or sigh and drape a blanket over him when the sun had long since vanished.

The war meetings were over, but Ike was still caught in responsibilities that drove him to sudden bouts of sleep. While catering to nobility, he'd been in Melior far past the point when he should have gotten to leave. Ike never dwelled on wishes and certainly never spoke them, but Soren still knew. Ike wanted to go home. Now that the war was over, he had every right to do so, yet here they were, playing some political game.

He'd never said it either, but Soren wanted to be home, too. It was an odd realization for someone who hadn't thought he had a home in the first place.

Soren softened as he watched Ike, who looked even more strikingly out of place asleep in this ballroom than he had when he was awake. Sprawled and unguarded, he could have been by the lakeside, recovering from a sparring match with his father. He could have been, but he couldn't have been. Soren fought down the feelings threatening to well up. Though there was nothing practical in this superfluous ballroom, no tactics for emotions to interrupt, he was still not comfortable experiencing them. He shifted and folded his hands tightly in his lap.

Beside him, Ike looked more relaxed than he had in ages, even with his body contorted awkwardly around the stiff chair. Sleep had smoothed the lines of his forehead, the creases and grimly set jaw that he'd gained while sitting in war meetings and talking to politicians.

Soren decided to leave Ike be. He was long overdue for a rest. They'd won the war, but the rebuilding stretched on. While Soren wouldn't have blamed Ike for avoiding commitment in peacetime, he knew Ike wouldn't. When tomorrow came, Ike would rise and work himself until night fell without gaining even the comfort of home in return.

Sitting in vigil beside his commander, Soren glared pointedly at everybody who glanced in their direction. Ike was resting, and Soren would not let him be disturbed.