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Sylvain didn't know exactly what to think of Ashe when they first met. To be perfectly honest, he didn't think much of him at all. That's not to say that he hated him, just that, Ashe existed in the same space as him, and Sylvain felt only slightly warmer to him that he would a desk or a bookshelf. He was part of the background and that was about as much as he thought. It's not his fault for thinking that way, everyone else in the class knew each other already. Ashe came to the monastery alone, accompanied by soldiers from Gaspard, but alone nonetheless. Sure he belonged to the Blue Lions as much as any of them, but he still came in as an outsider. He was a classmate, nothing more, nothing less.
Then Ashe's father attacked.
House Gaspard, if Sylvain was being perfectly honest, wasn’t a very high-ranking house. The Gaspard region was important, sure, in its position at the border of the Adrestian Empire and Faerghus, but they had no Crest to their name. Maybe that was why Lord Lonato was so quick to take in a commoner like Ashe, though most people did say Lord Lonato was just a kind man in general.
First impressions, Sylvain thought, were important, and in his opinion, he couldn’t find a sliver of kindness in making civilians take up arms. Though, if he was honest, he supposed the Church wasn’t any better, making students clean up after them, especially when their professor called out the order for Ashe to take the final shot. He did have enough manners not to call them out on it, but only just enough, as he saw Ashe run off after the battle with tears in his eyes.
After that, Ashe wasn’t really...the same. He was still enthusiastic about class but he was...quieter. He still had a routine, but he spent half of his free time in the cathedral. Sylvain wasn't religious, in fact if he ever met the goddess, he'd have a few choice words for her, but he knew it had comfort for some people, for some reason he couldn’t wrap his head around. The rest of the time he seemed to spend alone. Dimitri said that he needed time to grieve, to process things, and that they should leave him alone until he wanted to talk.
Not that he had much of a social life anyways, Sylvain found himself thinking.
But whatever. Sylvain didn’t have to interrupt his own routine and that was fine. He was perfectly happy not thinking about Ashe and “letting him grieve” as Dimitri said. He had ladies to worry about, especially when he double-booked by accident, and spent a good hour trying to clear up the misunderstanding, only to fail. Miserably.
As he walked back to his dorm, wrapped up in his thoughts, he was distracted by a soft cry coming from behind the hedges by the greenhouse. His curiosity getting the better of him, he stopped by the edge and peaked around.
The person behind the hedge was Ashe, alone, which wasn’t particularly unusual. He was hunched over himself, and for a moment, Sylvain thought he was praying, until he noticed the glint of a pocket knife, pale skin, and-
Fuck!
Sylvain moved on his own, storming over and grabbing Ashe’s arm before he could react, pulling him to his feet. Ashe was understandably startled, but he honestly could give less than a shit about that right now as he dragged him up the stairs, through the dormitory, all the way down to his room at the end of the hall, where he finally let go.
“S-Sylvain, I-” Ashe started, but Sylvain cut him off.
“Just shut up and sit down,” he said, firmly, but trying his damned hardest not to let his anger seep in as he open a drawer to pull out the bandages he kept in case Felix ever felt up for a spar.
Ashe sat, cradling his injured arm in his lap, staring past it to the floor. Empathy wasn’t Sylvain’s strong suit, he’d admit, neither was sympathy, or comfort, or hell, literally anything he probably needed right now besides wrapping his arm up and stopping the bleeding, so that’s what he focused on, kneeling in front of him and rolling up his sleeve. There were three fresh cuts, blood smeared from where he’d grabbed him, but the others, scabbed over but still relatively recent worried him more. Luckily, none seemed other than a couple of months, at most. As he finally let out a deep sigh, tucking the bandage tight so it wouldn’t slip, he found himself thanking whoever was listening that it wasn’t worse.
Which now, allowed him to be angry.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” he near-hissed, trying to just seem extremely concerned instead of furious, but as the words left his mouth, he could tell he overshot.
Ashe avoided his gaze. “I…Sorry, I just-”
“‘Sorry’?” he repeated. “Ashe, if a bowstring hits these, it’s going to hurt like hell. And if the professor, or one of the knights finds out, do you really think they’re going to let you wield anything sharper than a training weapon? You might as well kiss that future of being a ‘gallant, noble knight’ goodbye.”
As he stood up, he noticed Ashe’s eyebrows creasing the way they do when he’s trying not to cry, and he realized, yeah, he absolutely shot too far. Damnit, he was no good at this! Anyone, literally anyone, could have handled this better than he did, and yet...this was who Ashe was stuck with.
He took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to release the last of his anger with it. “Look, Ashe, I’m sorry, I...I shouldn’t have said-”
“No, you...you have a point,” he stood up, rolling down his sleeve. “I’m sorry for...worrying you, Sylvain.”
He tried to walk past him towards the door, but Sylvain grabbed his shoulder. “You’re not just worrying me, you know.”
Ashe stopped, but said nothing, which he took as a sign to continue.
“I mean, when we first got the mission, all of us were pretty shocked,” he said. “I just...I think we didn’t know how to talk to you.”
The observation he made on the first week of classes suddenly came back to him: Ashe was alone. Sylvain arrived knowing Dimitri, Felix, and Ingrid would be along for the ride, along with Dedue, and Annette and Mercedes he’d already picked up were practically inseparable, not to mention Annette’s father already knowing Dimitri. Ashe was the odd one out. And now, he didn’t even have Lonato.
“I’m not good at this whole heartwarming conversation thing,” Sylvain admitted. “But...I know Mercedes is. And Ingrid’s good at advice too. His Highness may seem unapproachable, but he really doesn’t mind lending an ear…”
He trailed off as he noticed Ashe wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Shit, he was really bad at this, wasn’t he? He let go of his shoulder. “Listen just...talk to someone, okay? I’m not that great at this, I know, but...I’m not stupid. None of us are. And none of us want to see you hurting.”
Ashe nodded, and swallowed, sniffling slightly. Sylvain started to open his mouth to tell him he could go if he wanted...but Ashe silenced him by turning around and hugging him tight.
“Thank you…” Ashe mumbled into his shirt.
Sylvain wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his back. This, he could definitely handle.