Chapter Text
Shinon wakes up the next morning, hair tangled, breath stale, and head pounding.
And more importantly, he wakes up in an alleyway, alone.
It’s been a long time since he’s been able to consistently drink enough to forget what happens while he’s drunk, so the previous night bursts behind his eyes in full technicolor.
“Shit.” Shinon curses as he flings an arm over his eyes, trying to pretend for just five more minutes that things are ok.
He only makes it two minutes before getting restless, so he mentally squares his shoulder and pushes himself up.
“Well, this has got to be a new record for rock bottom.” He mumbles to himself, as he sets off, with no idea where he’s going.
Looking for work as a pair of guildless mercenaries is hard enough, but it’s nothing compared to looking for work as a single guildless mercenary who just happens to have no money, no possessions, and a terrible tendency to alienate the people around him.
Still, after dragging himself from tavern to tavern and loitering in the hopes of getting a lead on a job, he finally finds someone who needs hands quickly, and doesn’t look twice at the fact that Shinon is a mess. The pay is terrible, and the bow they give him is worthless compared to what he’s used to, but it gives him something to do.
It turns out that he’s basically getting paid to get involved in a turf war between two groups of small-time bandits. It’s exactly the kind of job he would have passed over when traveling with Gatrie, because it’s messy and dangerous and not all that moral, but one of Shinon’s strengths and weaknesses is his lax moral standards. Morals don’t pay for a room and a pint of ale, but roughing it with bandits pays for at least a bed, and they give him disgusting home-brewed mead for free after it becomes clear that he’s the most talented of the bunch.
They run the other group of bandits off fairly quickly, but the fact that Shinon is a tier above the rest of the bandits ensures that he gets another job. And another, and another, and eventually he’s able to jump from bandits to slightly more professional mercenary groups. Their morals are just as loose as bandits, but they dress better and their booze is much more palatable.
The jobs start getting better paid too, and Shinon is able to buy a bow that’s at least slightly better. More importantly, he’s able to buy strong enough alcohol to distract him from his occasional pangs of loneliness, to banish his visions: of Gatrie, mostly, but also of Greil, of Rhys and Titania, even of little Rolf.
But those visions are useless, and he chases them away with alcohol while also chasing away anyone who might have thought to befriend him.
Eventually his jobs shift from acting as extra manpower for bandit turf wars to things that seem a little bigger, more well-funded, and more politically motivated. Shinon’s policy is that as long as he’s getting paid, he doesn’t ask questions, but he can’t help but wonder idly what exactly is happening to Tellius.
The strangest is when he gets hired by a crew that is half Daein soldiers and half Ravens. It’s something that he would have never guessed he’d see, Daein and Kilvas working together, especially since the average citizen of Daein tended to hate laguz as much as Shinon did, or more.
Still, who he was working with and why fell under the “Don’t ask questions as long as you get paid” category, even if it involved laguz. At the very least they were birds, and Shinon felt a little bit of comfort knowing that if it came down to him against the ravens, the odds were in his favor as long as he could get the first shot off.
Or at least that’s what he thought before seeing them in action. Sure, if he got the first shot off, he could take most of them down, but if they got to him first, he was toast. In a one-on-one battle, the odds would be about even, depending on who was faster. Unfortunately, of all the laguz, the birds were some of the fastest.
If Gatrie were still here, there’d be no question of who would win.
The thought pops uninvited into his head, and he tries to shoo it away with a twinge of annoyance. It was frustrating enough already that he missed the big oaf, and he didn’t need to be reminded that from a purely strategic standpoint, it was better to have Gatrie around than not.
Luckily, the battle started, and as soon as the first enemy moved into range, Shinon shifted into the altered headspace that he only found during a battle, with all other irrelevant thoughts-of laguz, of feelings, of Gatie-drifting easily away.
Was it ironic to feel most at peace in the middle of war? Probably, but that was just another irrelevant thought that didn’t last long, quickly subsumed by the rhythmic sequence of aim, pull, fire, reload, aim...
Right in the midst of reloading his bow, Shinon’s focus became momentarily and violently shaken when he saw a familiar looking figure coming into view, a little behind the stumbling soldier who he had just clipped with his arrow.
Just like Ike, charging into battle first, with no thought of how fucked his little band would be if he was cut down.
The thought, and the accompanying spike of disdain were so automatic that it took Shinon’s mind a second to pause and catch on.
Wait, Ike?
Goddess damnit.
It made sense, in a karmic way. He’d abandoned Ike’s mercenaries, and run away from Gatrie, and now at least one of the people he’d left was coming back to get him.
It made sense logically too. If the continent was really getting embroiled in a proper war, Ike was just stupid and noble enough to get himself at the center of it.
Practically speaking, nothing changed. Ike was there, but he was on the other side, and well, this is what he’d always idly imagined would happen anyway, wasn’t it? One of them would end up dying, maybe by the other’s hand.
As satisfying as it would be to be the one to put an arrow in the kid, Shinon valued self-preservation over self-satisfaction, and fighting Ike would probably be more skewed in Ike’s favor than Shinon would like to deal with, especially with his concentration already shot to hell.
So when Ike headed away from him, still oblivious to Shinon’s presence on the battlefield, Shinon breathed a sigh of relief
It didn’t last long though, because behind Ike came the rest of the motley crew; almost everyone he recognized, and some people he didn’t. It figured that Ike would keep picking up strays along the way.
But among the unfamiliar faces, Shinon picked out a flash of familiar armor.
Gatrie.
Gatrie wasn’t supposed to be with them. He’d left the group when Shinon had, following him without question, but now here he was, and the sight struck Shinon dumb, unable to move.
Shinon had known what being a mercenary was about, and had embraced it. With the exception of a few of the younger members, he had considered the possibility that he would have to fight against every one of his comrades, and had found that if it came down to it, he would have very little trouble choosing his life over any of theirs.
Except Gatrie. No matter how hard he had though, he had never truly considered that he and Gatrie might someday be on opposite sides. It was simply inconceivable, as much of a violation of the way the world worked as a river flowing upstream.
Luckily, Gatrie didn’t appear to see Shinon, and for the first time, Shinon thanked the goddess for the fact that Gatrie’s armor severely limited his peripheral vision.
Unluckily, as he was standing there gaping, the little cluster of healers and archers at the back seem to have noticed him, and before he knew it two broke away from the group and made a beeline straight for him. A redhaired man in priest’s robes-Rhys, Shinon deduced-tried to call them back. The girl, who was almost certainly Mist, hesitated for a moment before eventually returning when Shinon raised his bow in her direction, but the boy ignored his calls and continued heading towards Shinon.
Shinon didn’t need to wait until he came closer to know that it had to be Rolf.
“Shinon?” The boy called out in disbelief, completely oblivious to the fact that yelling on a battlefield when you’ve just broken away from the main body of your allies is an incredibly stupid thing to do.
“Rolf...” Shinon began, a lecture automatically forming in his head.
“Shinon!” Rolf yelled, cutting him off as he reached Shinon. “It really is you!”
The lecture died behind Shinon’s lips at the genuine happiness in Rolf’s voice.
“Look at you. You’ve grown so much.” Shinon found himself saying, noting that Rolf had grown a few inches in the months that he’d left. “You actually look like an archer.”
“Really?” Rolf says, as bashful and delighted as he always was at receiving a compliment from Shinon.
“ You always did have what it takes.” Shinon tells him. “It's just like I told you--you train the right way, and you'll surpass both your brothers.”
Not that your brothers set a particularly high bar. He add silently.
“I had a good teacher.” Rolf says, still beaming.
“Yeah, you did.” Shinon says, unable to suppress a little smile. He never planned on teaching anyone, but Rolf had a raw talent that deserved to be nurtured, and more importantly, an enthusiasm that wore even Shinon down eventually.
“You haven’t told anyone else about that, have you?” Shinon adds. Just because Rolf’s childish joy turned him into a little bit of a sap didn’t mean he was ok with anyone else knowing about it.
“Nope. Never said a word.” Rolf shakes his head, earnestly. “I keep my promises.”
“Good man.”
Rolf laughs, caught off-guard at being addressed as a man, before his delight changes to worry. “Um...Shinon?”
“What?”
“Are you...” Rolf hesitates. “With the enemy?”
Shinon answers quickly, because it’s the only way he can get it out without revealing any of the pesky emotions he feels poking at him. “Yep.”
Rolf’s face falls, a complete contrast to his delight at first seeing Shinon, and Shinon sees his lip start to tremble.
“Stop that.” Shinon tells him. “I told you that things like this happen.” Did you forget?”
“But...it’s not...” Rolf is full-on blubbering on the battlefield now, and Shinon is torn between annoyance and discomfort. “It’s...not...fair...”
If he keeps carrying on like this, the kid’s going to get both of them killed, so Shinon hardens his voice to the one that makes the nice girls that Gatrie likes glare at him.
“Ready your bow. It's time for the pupil to face his master.”
Rolf looks at him, uncomprehending.
“I mean it kid.” Shinon raises his bow for emphasis, but doesn’t truly draw it yet. “You better fight me or get out of here, and you have about ten seconds to choose.”
Rolf looks at Shinon, then looks at his own bow, and finally heads back towards the army. He glances back at Shinon every few seconds as if expecting to be shot in the back, but he doesn’t need to worry. Rolf may very well die today, but Shinon would rather not be the one to deal the blow.
The battle is a hard one for both sides, and although most of Ike’s company must know that he’s here by now, for the most part he’s shooting at people he doesn’t know.
But then eventually, Ike comes into view.
Shinon gets off two arrows before Ike gets close enough to counterattack, but he’s been off the whole battle, and neither of them are lethal blows. Although, Shinon notes with vindictive pleasure, they force Ike to start favoring his left leg.
Shinon’s played this battle out in his head dozens of times, and he knows that in close quarters Ike always wins. Ike’s probably going to win this time, if it’s a fair fight.
“Look, it’s little Ike!” Shinon calls, taunting. The only way he’s going to win is by throwing Ike off his game, and the two arrows helped, but it can’t hurt to try to shake him mentally too.
The best method would be to put an arrow or two in Soren, but unfortunately, for once Soren is not trailing behind Ike like a shadow.
“I always knew it would come to this, Ike.” Shinon says as Ike comes into range, drawing another arrow as he speaks.
“Shinon...” Ike says, and Shinon sees that despite everything, Ike would like to forgive him, and the fact fills him with anger.
“Watch yourself!” He snaps, and fires, this time hitting Ike in the arm.
The pain snaps Ike out of whatever sappy fantasy he had of convincing Shinon to join Ike’s little fanclub mercenary band, and he charges.
Shinon does his best, but he’s not good in close quarters, and it’s over embarrassingly quickly as Ike, who at the very least is bleeding from several arrow wounds, lands a solid blow on Shinon’s left side that brings him to the ground.
“Curses...” Shinon grits out, instinctively clutching at the wound.
“Don’t move.” Ike is standing over him, but he doesn’t deliver the final blow. “You’ll tear the wound wide open.”
“What...” Shinon grunts. “Are you planning? Do it now. Finish me.”
Ike says nothing, just looks at him in...contemplation? Pity? Disgust?
“Ha,” Shinon barks out a laugh, which sends a wave of pain through his side. “Idiot...”
Shinon isn’t sure what happens after that, because he starts to drift in and out of consciousness, and in his half-conscious state, he registers that Ike is no longer there.
His thoughts are drifting in and out of coherence as well, half-formed thoughts meshing with wordless pain and slivers of emotions he couldn’t identify if he tried.
...stupid...stupid way to live...stupider way to die...
...fuckup. just like...
...hope Rolf...didn’t...
...at least...wasn’t...Gatrie...
Shinon comes completely back to consciousness some time later, surprised to see Rhys and Ike standing over him rather than...whatever might happen to good-for-nothing snipers who get themselves killed in battle.
“Shinon.” Ike starts.
“Ha!” Shinon cuts him off, still half-delirious. “I can't believe that the one who defeats me is little lord Ikie. Looks like I've lost my edge. I'm ready, boy. Go on. Finish what you started.”
Rhys looks at Ike, who nods, signalling that Rhys can leave, taking what looks like a mend staff and an empty vulnerary with him.
Ike turns back to Shinon. “Come back to the company.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You've never liked me. As far back as I can remember, you have never liked me.” Ike says, and it’s not a question, just a fact.
"That’s right.” Shinon confirms, because he’s already almost dead, so there’s no harm in digging his own grave when he’s already lying in it. “Still don’t.”
“You called me a weakling.” Ike continues. “Said I was nothing without the help of my father. That's what you said, right? That's why you hated me.”
Honestly, at this point Shinon doesn’t even remember why he started to hate Ike, but the fact that Ike seems to want his approval even now isn’t helping his case. Gatrie and Rolf aside, Shinon finds earnest people distasteful.
“Sounds like me.” Shinon hedges, because it’s a lot easier to say than I was half-way in love with your father and I resented you for having his love and living when he died and not being the failure that I wanted you to be.
"Don't you get it?” Ike says, looking at Shinon like he’s stupid. “I just beat you. So your reasons don't hold water anymore, do they?”
Shinon’s reasons never really held water, but Ike doesn’t need to know that.
“Pah! It's enough you beat me, now you gotta talk me to death?”
Ike sighs. “I'll say it once more. Come back to the company. I acknowledge your abilities. As commander, I want you with us.”
Honestly, it’s starting to look like a tempting prospect, especially considering the other choice is bleeding to death on the battlefield.
Well, maybe not quite bleeding to death, because it seems like Rhys might have healed the worst of his wounds. But still, it would involve laying around with corpses and then starting again from scratch as a lone mercenary, and the Greil Mercenaries (or had they officially become the Ike Mercenaries by this point?) had tents and food and probably booze, and even though most of them surely hated his guts, at least Gatrie and Rolf would probably forgive him. Eventually.
“Let's have another go around.” Shinon says, wincing as he pushes himself to his feet. “I win, and I'm commander. Agreed?”
Ike looks at him, incredulous.
“Agreed?” Shinon repeats. Of course he’s going to lose, and he wouldn’t even want to be commander if there were a chance of it. But he’ll be damned if he admits that he’s crawling back to the Ike Fan Club Mercenaries with his tail between his legs, so he’s got to put up at least a token fight.
Finally Ike gets with the program, nodding. “I win, and you fall in line. Agreed?”
Shinon nods. He has no intention of docilely ‘falling in line,’ but at the very least he won’t storm off or try to kill Ike again, and that’s pretty much what Ike wants anyway.
“Don’t worry.” Shinon says, cocky to the last. “I’ll make it quick.”
Shinon does make it quick, landing few token arrows on Ike’s armor and then going down immediately as soon as Ike’s sword makes contact with his armor. Sure, Shinon hates losing, but he hates flesh wounds even more.
“I yield.” Shinon holds his hands up, and Ike takes one of them, pulling him to his feet.
“Welcome back.” Ike says, and he seems to mean it.
“Yeah yeah.” Shinon says. “Now, where can I find the booze?”
Coming back to the Greil Mercenaries (turns out they hadn’t changed the name to Ike’s Massive Fucking Fanclub. Yet.) was not the most pleasant experience Shinon had ever had. But that was to be expected, especially considering he’d basically stormed out in a hissy fit and taken their best knight with him.
Actually, it was refreshing how little had changed. He still didn’t like most of the people there, and they still didn’t like him. Just like it was supposed to be.
Some people expressed happiness at his return, and some of them, like Titania and Rhys, actually meant it. Rolf started crying again and despite his best efforts, Shinon couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. Being a dick to adults was one thing, but the kid was another.
“Hey,” Shinon told him, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’m back now kid, quit crying.”
Rolf just sniffled harder and, to Shinon’s surprise, hugged him.
“Hey now, Rolf.” Shinon said, unsure what exactly was happening but uncomfortable with it nonetheless. “Hey, it’s ok.”
When nothing appeared to be working, Shinon leaned down and hissed in Rolf’s ear. “Quite crying and let go of me and I’ll make you a new bow.”
Immediately, Rolf jumped off of him and smiled. “Thank you Uncle Shinon!”
“Yeah yeah, now scram. You don’t want to be hanging around bad influences like me.”
Rolf headed back towards his brothers’ tent, still smiling.
“And don’t call me Uncle!” Shinon called after him.
Some people were not quite as happy to see him again, like Boyd, who pulled a face as soon as he saw Shinon walk into camp. Or Soren, who seemed personally offended that Ike had let Shinon back into the fold.
“Thought you got rid of me, did you?” Shinon taunted after being glared at by Soren. Soren glaring was not a rare occurrence, but neither was Shinon being needlessly rude, and picking at Soren was a habit that had been suppressed for far too long.
"I had hoped so.” Soren responded, icily. “But I suppose Ike knows best.”
“Ike knows best.” Shinon mimicked, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Shinon had expected the reunion with Gatrie but be the hardest given the circumstances of their parting. He had even steeled himself to try to attempt an apology, although he probably wouldn’t be able to actually explain what exactly he was apologizing for.
As it turned out, he hadn’t needed to worry, because as soon as he sees Shinon, Gatrie pulls him into a tight hug.
“You’re back.” Gatrie says, sounding like he still can’t dare to believe it. “Thank the goddess.”
“You’re not mad?” Shinon asks, confused.
“I was mad.” Gatrie says. “I was furious, and sad, and then mad again. But I got over that while you were gone. Now I’m just glad that you’re back.”
Gatrie held Shinon at arms length, looking him up and down as if to make sure that he was all in one piece, eyes catching on the bandages covering the wounds Ike had inflicted on him during the last battle. Shinon, suddenly uncomfortable under the scrutiny, batted Gatrie’s hands away.
Gatrie, seemingly unflappable as always, just laughed giddily and pulled him into another embrace.
“Just...don’t do it again.” Gatrie says quietly, the vibrations of his voice seeming to echo in Shinon’s chest. “If you disappear again, I will be mad. And I won’t get over it.”
“I won’t.” Shinon accidentally promises, overwhelmed by the fact that he’s suddenly surrounded by Gatrie’s scent, and by the realization that the smell he always associated with the Greil Mercenaries, with the closest thing to family and home he’s ever had, was actually the smell of Gatrie.
Well, when he was with the Greil Mercenaries, Gatrie was almost always by his side, so it was reasonable that he would get the smell of home and the smell of Gatrie a little mixed up sometimes.
Or perhaps they weren’t two different things at all. But that was a thought Shinon was definitely not ready to examine yet.
Just like that, things returned to normal, or as normal as things could be with the fact that they had in fact kissed hanging in the air between them, conspicuously ignored by both parties involved.
But it was fine, really. Sure, there was a war going, and Shinon was on, if not the right side, at least on the side that was comfortable and familiar, with Gatrie beside him again. For now, it was enough.
It was enough, because it had to be. Shinon did not deserve even this much, and he did not dare ask for more, even in the privacy of his own head, because people like Shinon rarely get what they deserve, and even more rarely get what they want. So it was enough.