DreamyDayz: Here I am, writing my first FE fanfic. I warn you, shounen-ai is being implied here. So if you don't like it, don't read it. The characters are kinda OOC, yeah, I know they are... I hope I can improve in my future stories.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem.

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They are considered beautiful, the roses.

There used to be a narrow pathway in between tall hedges near the Greil Mercenaries base. At the end of that dark pathway, there were rosebushes.

If you leaned in to smell one of them, closing your eyes, you'd feel their sweet scent. If you slowly started to stretch your arms towards it, as if they were unreachable... carefully, you would cover the rose with your hands, slightly touching it's petals; as if any kind of movement would make them fall, as if you could break them with the slightest push... they would be so soft, so... delicate...

"Can we press onward?" Soren said, a somewhat impatient tone in his voice. "We don't have that much time to spare."

"Gosh, we may not have much time, but we're not in that of a hurry either! You're no fun, Soren!" Mist said angrily, puffing her cheeks.

"We're in the middle of a mission. We don't have time to smell flowers on the way." Soren said, giving a sigh.

"Why, you-" Mist began, but she was cut off by her brother:

"Hey, stop arguing you two. Don't be so harsh, Soren, we could use a break." Ike said, sweatdropping.

"...right." Soren spat out reluctantly. Mist stuck her tongue at the mage and then ran away, making him twitch. 'Children...' he mumbled. Truth is, those roses annoyed him for some reason. Their smell was sickening for him. He couldn't see why people thought they were so goddamn pretty; they were just plants like any other. They were also way too fragile: any kind of brusque movement and their petals would get torn apart...

'...'

It was already night, most of the mercenaries were probably sleeping. Except for a certain mage, who was having a walk outside the fort. The sky was clear, the moonlight being able to illuminate the area. Soren stopped by a tall, old-looking tree, a little far off of the fort, being overshadowed by it's leafs.

"Who's there...?!" He said, in a quite demanding tone.

"Ah! So you had aknowledged my presence. Pretty sharp..." Said a man's voice, that came from behind the mage. He quickly turned around to face it.

"... Stefan?" The swordmaster put his hand on his sword hilt, and bowed, as if to greet Soren. "What are you doing here?" He asked, frowning.

"I just wanted to check on this merry-band of mercenaries once more... and see how you were doing." Stefan replied with a smile. Soren gasped.

"Wha- me?" He asked. The swordmaster's smile now seemed quite mysterious.

"Yes, you." He paused. He then turned his gaze to the moon. "Since you are... just like me." Soren looked away.

"I said I belong here, I will not—"

"Leave Ike's side." Stefan completed Soren's sentence, a playful tone in his voice. The mage widened his eyes, and for some reason, he blushed.

"...yes." He simply said. Stefan turned to look at Soren.

"Haha, it seems you are doing fine... I just wanted to be sure." Stefan smiled. He turned his back at Soren. "Well... I think I'm going then." He started walking away. Soren quickly turned his gaze to Stefan once more, stretching his arm towards him.

"Ah-" He started, but was cut off by the swordmaster:

"Farewell." He said still walking, waving, even though he wasn't facing Soren. The mage slowly lowered his hand. The wind blowed gently on his face. Soren then started heading back to the fort.

"I said I belong here, I will not—"

"Leave Ike's side."

Those words echoed on his mind. He blushed once again, an angry expression on his face. What did Stefan know anyway? ... "Since you are... just like me." ...

Just like him...?

Soren saw himself standing in front of the Greil Mercenaries base. For some sort of impulse, he started running. He ran in a random direction. He just ran and ran... he felt his heart tightening. He just wanted that feeling to go away. That sudden feeling of confusion and affliction, he just wanted it to go away... he just ran, not seeing what way he went... not noticing he ran through a narrow path in between hedges...

Soren stopped. He looked down, shadow covering his face. So many thoughts that confused themselfs, colliding with each other. Is there really a place for me in this world? Am I just a burden!? Why am I so repulsive, so... fragile...?

He suddenly saw himself standing before rosebushes; of the ones he had so much despised. Soren widened his eyes. He felt his eyes warming, as a tear rolled down his cheek. He had come to a realization: he now knew why he hated those flowers so much. He hated them... because they were like him.

Yes, just like him. "Their smell was sickening for him. He couldn't see why people thought they were so goddamn pretty; they were just plants like any other. They were also way too fragile: any kind of brusque movement and their petals would get torn apart." He couldn't see why people thought he was so special; he was just a person like any other. He was also so fragile... any kind of brusque movement and he would end up like he was now; drowning in his own sea of uselessness.

He felt his strength fading. Soren fell on his knees, facing the ground, crying silently... I am so... weak...

"Soren?"

When he turned around to see whose voice was that, he quickly returned his gaze to the ground.

"Wha-what are you doing here, Ike?" He asked, desperately trying to wipe his tears away.

"I ask you the same thing."

"I just... I was just having a walk." He quickly replied, still not facing the commander.

"Right." Ike said as if he wasn't convinced and walked closer to Soren. "I was just having a walk too." He then kneeled in front of the mage. "What are you doing there, anyway?" Soren faced Ike for a moment, reactionless. He didn't want Ike to see him like that. He just wanted to run away. He stood up, ready to take off... but, he tripped. He was going to fall, hurt himself and look even more pathetic in front of his commander. Great, just... GREAT! Soren thought as he closed his eyes, letting infuriated tears escape from them.

Just as he thought he was about to hit the ground, he stopped. He felt something holding him. ... no, could it be?

"Soren! Are you alright?!" Ike asked, concern in his voice. He had Soren in his arms, facing him. As soon as he looked Ike in his eyes, he blushed. He stood quiet, without knowing what to do. Ike blushed deeply when he saw the reddish color on Soren's cheeks. "Um..."

"... y-yes, I'm ok, thank you." The mage replied, narrowing his eyes and trying to look away.

"O-oh. Good. Please take more care of yourself. You could've got hurt—"

"Don't tell me like I don't know it!" Soren exclamed, sounding upset, turning his head to face Ike.

"Ah!!! I'm sorry! Uh, you know, I'm just worried; you could take a break from the missions if..."

"Why? Am a I burden?"

"No! Of course not! I've said it before, your tactical knowledge is crucial to the company; I meant that if you're not feeling well... it'd be better if you rested. Are you sure you are ok?" The commander asked, concern still showing in his voice. Soren's expression eased up.

"... yes. I-I'm ok. I'm sorry, I was rude just now." He blushed once more. Ike still held him in his arms.

"There is no need to apologize." Ike smiled. "I just got worried since you lack physical strength and..." He stopped, already feeling Soren's indignated looks on him. He looked away, blushing. "Uh, I mean, you being a mage and all, so you have to be really careful on battlefield!" He continued: "I can feel you have a delicate body by holding you right now. You have a nice figure by the-- "

"... pervert."

" ... way... wait, WHAT?!" Ike exclamed. Soren freed himself from his arms, as he shouted:

"Ike, you PERVERT!" He said, pushing him onto the rosebush. Ike lost his balance, and fell...

If you slowly started to stretch your arms towards it, as if they were unreachable... carefully, you would cover the rose with your hands, slightly touching it's petals; as if any kind of movement would make them fall, as if you could break them with the slightest push... they would be so soft, so... delicate...

They are fragile, indeed. But sometimes we forget... that roses have thorns.