Chapter Text
The first hint Ashe got that something was up was later that night, during his check-in at the infirmary.
“I heard you had a busy day today,” Mercedes commented as she helped him remove the old bandages.
“I, um, suppose so,” Ashe answered cautiously. Something about her tone made him feel like he was in trouble, though he wasn’t really sure why.
She hummed idly. Then: “Felix tells me you tried to go out in the storm.”
Ah, so that’s what this was about. “Well, yes.” When the silence lasted for a bit too long, he figured he should say some words in his own defense. “I was really worried about Byleth. He stayed outside all night, you know. And even if he truly can’t feel the rain through his scales… well, I can’t imagine it’s pleasant to be out there alone in such terrible weather.”
Mercedes sighed, and paused her work to look him in the eyes. “I know you meant well, Ashe. But you really need to think of yourself, too. If water gets inside the bandages, it could cause an infection. And what would’ve happened if you’d tripped and reopened a wound while you were out there?” Her tone was more sad than scolding- which, paradoxically, made him feel even worse. “You didn’t tell anyone that you were going outside, and the visibility was awful. There’s a real chance you could have bled out before someone found you.”
“...I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Well, just try to be more careful from now on. You can ask any of us for help, you know.” She laughed lightly. “Though, you might want to give Felix something for his troubles. When I saw him this morning, I thought he’d gone for a swim in the river!”
That got a chuckle out of him. “I’ll make it up to him, I promise.” Perhaps he’d ask if Byleth had any interesting old weaponry that he wouldn’t mind parting with. “And don’t worry, we won’t have to brave the weather again. I gave Byleth the key to my room, so if he stays outside again it’s his own fault.” It was the obvious solution, and he felt a bit silly for not thinking of it sooner. Sure, he only had one key; but he was stuck in the infirmary for the time being, so it wasn’t as if he’d be using it himself. (And besides, Ashe didn’t actually need the key; the personal rooms in the barracks were distressingly easy to lockpick, as he’d learned one night after leaving his coat behind in the tavern).
Mercedes just smiled, and stepped away to fetch new bandages.
Ashe took the opportunity to take stock of his injuries. The burns which had once covered his forearms appeared mostly healed at this point. The same, unfortunately, could not be said for his chest injury. This castle boasted some of the most skilled healers in the Kingdom - it was thanks to their expertise that Ashe was able to walk already, and that he’d even survived the first few hours after the ordeal. But at the end of the day he was still being held together by, as Linhardt had put it, “stitches and hope.”
And he knew that should scare him, at least enough for him to not even consider taking unnecessary risks. But maybe the painkillers were doing too good a job, because he found himself more frustrated by the injury than frightened by it. He just wanted to get back to his life, to be able to walk and train and leave the castle without having to worry about splitting his damn stomach open.
It was that frustration that led him to ask, with unfounded optimism: “So, do you think I can lose the crutches now?”
Mercedes took a moment to consider, a worried crease forming in her brow. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Ashe. You need to keep the strain off your core muscles.”
Figured. Oh well, no harm in asking-
“On that note, you’ll need to refrain from intercourse as well,” she continued, still in that same casual, matter-of-fact tone.
Nevermind, it turned out there was harm in asking. “I-!”
“I know it can be exciting to start a new relationship, but you need to take it easy until you heal further,” Mercedes went on, apparently unaware of his distress. “I’m sure Byleth will understand. He seems to care for you very much.”
Seeing a lifeline, Ashe made a desperate attempt to change the subject. “Y-yes, he’s very sweet, we-”
“Although,” Mercedes mused, still in that same matter-of-fact tone, “I suppose there are still some things you can do. As long as you’re careful, it should be alright for him to-”
“Mercedes!”
She paused, and finally seemed to notice how flustered her patient was getting. “Oh! I’m sorry. I always forget how shy you are about these things.”
How?! Ashe wondered privately.
An hour later, as he lay in the slightly-too-firm infirmary bed and waited to fall asleep, he finally thought to wonder how Mercedes had found out that he and Byleth were a couple. Ashe hadn’t told anyone himself, and he couldn’t quite imagine that Byleth had gone out of his way to speak to anyone, much less to spread the news. So if neither of them had said anything, then how…?
Ah well, he decided, closing his eyes. It was probably nothing to worry about.
The next day, he was forced to reconsider.
The problem with castles, Ashe reflected, was that gossip traveled quickly. He’d known this already, of course: during long shifts in the kitchen or stables, there’s little else to do but talk. But there was a stark difference between hearing whispered rumors of affairs between various nobles (one of whom always seemed to be Sylvain, to Ingrid’s perpetual displeasure) and hearing people talk about, well. Yourself. It was somewhat novel, really; Ashe had generally been considered beneath notice, barring some localized complaints that “they’re letting just anyone be a squire these days, huh”. But now it seemed like every person living in the castle was aware that he’d been kissing Byleth the day before.
Of course, as with all juicy castle gossip, the truth had taken a backseat. Some details had been exaggerated; others had been lost entirely. Byleth was invariably just referred to as “the dragon” (which, well, fair enough). More annoyingly, Ashe wasn’t mentioned by name, only being credited as “one of the squires” - because who cared which one, really? (Ashe cared. Ashe cared a lot.)
A strange side effect of this was that some of Ashe’s more casual acquaintances around the castle hadn’t realized that it was about him at all, and thus hadn’t realized that there was any reason that they shouldn’t share the rumors with him. Ashe wasn’t sure if this was a curse or blessing. After all, it would’ve been disconcerting if people were whispering behind his back. But he’d barely left the infirmary before a group of kitchen workers ushered him over to tell him (in hushed, scandalized whispers) that ‘someone saw the dragon fucking a squire in the courtyard,’ and it had taken all his strength not to spontaneously combust from embarrassment.
Still, he somehow persisted, if only because hiding in his room would do nothing to solve the problem. Besides, he rationalized, he should make sure Byleth wasn’t bothered by all the talk. (He almost certainly wasn’t, Ashe knew. As much as Ashe hoped that Byleth would overcome his utter apathy for the feelings of strangers, he had to admit it could be a benefit in times like this.)
In a rare case of something going his way today, the weather had finally calmed down enough to see more than a few meters outside. There was clearly no dragon wrapped around the oak tree, so Ashe was left the unenviable task of checking throughout the castle. Luckily, he didn’t need to go far before he heard a familiar set of voices.
Surprisingly, Byleth was in the common room, talking to Sylvain. Somewhat less surprisingly, it seemed like Sylvain was doing most of the talking. And gesturing, Ashe noticed. A lot of gesturing.
“...so then you gotta- Oh! Look who’s here!” Sylvain abruptly paused his monologue and turned to wave Ashe over.
“Sorry to interrupt?” Though Ashe framed the words as an apology, it was more of a question than anything else.
“Eh, it’s fine. We got through the important stuff.” Sylvain moved to give Byleth a hearty clap on the shoulder - but apparently thought better of it at the last second. His hand hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment, before he played it off as a dismissive wave.
“...the ‘important stuff?’” Ashe echoed. Alarm bells were beginning to go off in his head.
Sylvain winked. “I was just giving our draconic friend here some advice. No need to thank me.” Which could really mean anything, but definitely meant Ashe wasn’t going to get any answers from him.
“He asks very personal questions,” Byleth complained.
“Ah.” Nevermind, Ashe decided; he didn’t want to know.
“Congratulations, by the way! Knew you had it in ya!” Sylvain gave Ashe’s hair a fond ruffle, ignoring his half-hearted protests and attempts to duck out of the way. “But seriously, you couldn’t even take a moment to tell me the good news? Frankly, Ashe, I thought our friendship meant more to you.”
Ashe had known him long enough to tell he wasn’t actually offended, and was just playing it up; yet, despite himself, he still felt a twinge of instinctive guilt. “I was going to! It’s only been a day. Somehow the whole castle found out, and I’m… not sure how?”
Sylvain stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then gave an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh. “Ashe. Buddy. I hate to be the one to break this to you, but if you two wanted to kiss in secret, the foyer was
really
not the place to do it.”
“...ah.” Well. That was one mystery solved, at least.
Sylvain brightened up. “I do know some good spots, though, if you’re looking for recommendations-”
“We aren’t!” He protested on sheer instinct, then gave it another thought. “...er, well, maybe we are?” Putting that aside for the moment, he shook his head. “I just can’t believe people care so much, honestly.”
“Can’t you? There hadn’t been a confirmed dragon sighting for close to a century. And now one shows up unannounced, wrecks the treasury, and then makes out with a squire in the foyer. Of course people are talking.”
Huh. Hearing it put that way, Ashe supposed he could understand. Hell, if he hadn’t been personally involved, he’d probably be busy chatting everyone’s ears off about the mere fact that dragons still existed. “The treasury is bigger news, if anything. I’m surprised I haven’t heard much about that.”
Sylvain winced. “You just haven’t been listening to the right people. It’s about all the nobility has been talking about all week.” His expression turned more serious. “Every noble without military training was evacuated when shit hit the fan, and a lot of them still don’t feel safe enough to come back. Adding in the presence of the two Empire nobles, who we essentially put under house arrest for no reason… the whole thing’s been a diplomatic nightmare.”
Ashe’s heart sank. He hadn’t even considered the wider implications of everything that had happened. “Oh. I’m so sorry, Sylvain. Maybe we could…” he trailed off, unsure what to suggest. The obvious ‘solution’ would be for Byleth to leave the castle, but…
“I am not leaving until Ashe is healed,” Byleth interjected, apparently having arrived at the same conclusion. “But I will not hurt anyone without reason. I signed a treaty saying as much. That should be enough for them, shouldn’t it?”
“Now hang on a moment, no one’s saying you need to leave.” Sylvain frowned. “And to be honest, it might do more harm than good at this point. At least this way they know where you are, and being in our castle makes it harder for the Alliance or Empire to sway you.”
“Sway me?” Byleth tilted his head. “I wasn’t aware you were at war.”
“We aren’t. Relations have honestly been good over the past few years. Still, it can’t hurt to be cautious. A dragon is practically a standing army all by itself.”
Byleth visibly perked up at that. “Thank you,” he replied, sounding almost bashful.
Ashe shook his head fondly. “Well, if there’s anything we can do to set their minds at ease, let us know.”
“Nah, don’t worry yourself about it. Just focus on healing up for now.” Sylvain thought for a moment, then laughed. “Though, honestly? All the rumors going around may actually help a bit.” He glanced over at Byleth. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but… it makes you seem more human.”
Byleth gave him a flat look. “That’s stupid.”
“Yeah, probably. But that’s how people think.” Sylvain turned back to Ashe. “In any case, try not to stress over what people are saying. The novelty’s bound to wear off eventually. Might take a while, though. People do love relationship gossip.”
You would know, wouldn’t you, Ashe thought, but kept it to himself. Being the subject of the rumor mill for once made him feel a bit more sympathetic. Sylvain must have incredibly thick skin to go through this so often.
“Does it bother you? The gossip?” Byleth asked.
“...yes,” Ashe admitted. Worried that his words might be misconstrued, he quickly added: “I’m not upset that people know we’re together! I just don’t like the thought of them talking about us behind our backs. Especially when they’re exaggerating the details…”
“Exaggerating?” Byleth echoed.
“Yes, haven’t you heard them? Honestly, Sylvain is the first person I’ve talked to today who knew the real story.”
Sylvain shrugged. “Yeah, well. I just figured that the mildest version going around must be the truth.” Ashe must have made a face at that, because Sylvain laughed. “Hey, what can I say? I know you.”
That felt a bit insulting, in its own way, but Ashe knew it was best not to argue the point. He sighed. “Well. There’s nothing to be done, I suppose. Hopefully people lose interest soon.”
“Good luck with that,” Sylvain snorted. “Anyway, I should probably go. Ingrid usually goes to the training grounds around this time, and if I don’t show she’ll assume I’m causing trouble again.”
“Don’t worry, I'll vouch for you.”
“Oh? Guess I'll see if I can cause some trouble on the way, then,” he said with a wink.
“...don’t push your luck.”
Sylvain just laughed and turned to leave. He got almost halfway to the doorway before Ashe finally remembered his original plan for the day.
“Oh! Sylvain! Could you ask around and see who’s free this afternoon? I was thinking we could all have tea in the courtyard. Assuming the weather holds, of course.”
Sylvain’s eyebrows rose. “A bunch of knights having a tea party with a dragon? That’ll really get people talking.”
“They’re already talking. It can’t pos-” he stopped. It can’t possibly get worse, he’d been about to say. Best not to jinx it.
Sylvain laughed. “Yeah, I’m just giving you grief. Of course I’m in.” He turned away again with a final wave. “And go sit down, will you? Mercedes will have all of our heads if you strain something.”
Ashe winced, remembering the conversation from the night before. He did his best to put it out of his mind, and instead addressed Byleth. “Want to head to the dining hall for a while? It’s still a bit early for lunch, so it should be pretty empty. We can play cards or something.”
Byleth nodded, and silently followed him down the hall.
After a bit, Byleth spoke up. “So, tea is a group event?”
“It can be.” He glanced back, but Byleth’s expression was unreadable as usual. “Aren’t you excited? I thought tea was on your list of human traditions to try.”
“Well, yes. But I just wanted to have it with you.”
“Oh!” Ashe glanced back at him again, this time with a bright smile. “We can do that next time. I think you’ll enjoy this, though. It’s always fun to just chat and relax with a group.” His brow furrowed. “Ah, I wonder if I should be providing snacks. It’ll be a bit hard to bake with these crutches, but I suppose-”
“I can cook,” Byleth offered. “Probably. If you talk me through it.”
“...well, it’s certainly worth a try.” If nothing else, it would be good for Byleth to learn to cook for himself. Even it was unlikely that the years of culinary innovation in Fodlan had produced anything more appealing than classes such as Raw Cow, Pulverized Rabbit, or the downright gourmet Slightly Burnt Moose. And besides, Ashe reflected, remembering some of his other friends’ culinary adventures, if things did go poorly...
Well. Byleth would be far from the first person to burn the kitchens down.