MY SOREN.
Soren gladly allows Ike to take the liberty of freeing him from the confines of his robes to reveal the much lighter tunic and pants that lie underneath. It always felt rather odd when he was rid of the layers of woven fabric, the weight of such an ever familiar sensation, almost a second skin really.
As his outer garb is cast aside, Soren’s gaze falls upon the armor that lay upon Ike’s own form. He reaches his own hands up to begin undoing the buckles that hold Ike’s pauldron and his breastplate on, if Ike had taken it upon himself to rid Soren of his armor, he could at least do the same for him.
“…need you keep even your sword on you at all hours of the day?”
He lets himself be undressed with tender care, occasionally lifting his arms or adjusting his height for Soren to unbuckle parts of the armor or reach pieces that he wouldn’t be able to touch usually. It wasn’t as if he was incapable but he enjoyed this exchange of intimate trust.
At the mention of the sword, Ike merely smiled. “ Well, it’s kind of important, y’know. Feels a bit weird without it. ” He unhooked the sheathed weapon from his belt to place on a nearby desk and indeed, it felt that he was far too light - freedom and weight wise.
“ And people tend to recognize me more for my sword than my face nowadays. ”
