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Yuri never forgets a face.
It's been years since they last spoke, but he immediately hones in on the small, grey-haired boy in the Blue Lions classroom. Ashe is still lithe and freckled, with the brightest green eyes that haven't lost their spark since they were both children. That's a surprise, considering that he had been a part of the team that quelled Lord Lonato along with the rest of the Western Church, but then again, Yuri clearly doesn't know Ashe the way he used to.
The Professor announces that Yuri will be joining the Blue Lions for lessons. Yuri smiles pleasantly, introducing himself with his current alias, matching a trained bow with a “how do you do.” He'll soon have them all wrapped around his finger, though from what he's gathered, most of them are all right for noble brats. He's heard that the Gautier boy has a reputation, and that the Fraldarius boy is a frigid bitch. Count Galatea's daughter once had some bigoted views about Duscur, and had had to give Dedue a much-needed apology. But Yuri's intel tells him that they've all got their hearts in the right place, and when Annette turns to him and smiles warmly, mouthing a gentle “welcome”, he knows that his sources were right.
He could do worse than this year's pride of Lions.
The Professor begins their lecture, and Yuri pulls out a pen, beginning to take notes. He'd never gotten to graduate from Garreg Mach; Aelfric had needed him and his Crest for other purposes, and when Yuri had ended up in a bind, Lady Rhea had cut him a raw deal for his mother's protection. A lady of the cloth couldn't be orchestrating plots against her cardinals behind their backs, but if a filthy, low-born assassin was willing to do that job, that opened up a plethora of possibilities. Returning to school after living underground for years feels strange and foreign, and Yuri is glad for his small stature; at least he won't be heads and shoulders taller than the other kids even if he's older. He's heard that Margrave Gautier's son is the same age as he is, and makes a mental note to chat him up. Sylvain is kind of cute-- maybe they can have some fun together.
“Yuri?”
The Professor's voice jolts him out of his thoughts, and Yuri flashes an apologetic smile in response. “Sorry,” he mutters under his breath. Concentrating in class is a chore when you're used to learning on the job.
The Professor nods, returning to their lecture, and Yuri's attention begins to drift again. He finds himself returning to looking at Ashe Ubert. In many ways, Ashe still looks like the small, scrappy kid on the streets that Yuri had known: his brow knots in the same manner when he's trying to concentrate, and Ashe still drums his fingers on the table when he's thinking too hard. But he killed Lonato, a voice whispers at the back of Yuri's mind, he helped to kill the man who took him in.
Yuri might be a dirty, conniving bastard, a bird hiding sharp talons behind a sweet song. But he has never bitten the hand of anyone who's fed him. And much as Yuri's gut tells him that there's some reasoning behind Ashe's actions, it's a betrayal that he can't even begin to reconcile. Count Rowe had fed, clothed and cared for Yuri, but he'd taken him in for sinister purposes, snatching away his identity and trying to mold him into a porcelain shell. Meanwhile, unless his sources were completely off their mark, Lord Lonato's intentions had been completely genuine.
For one, Ashe still gets to keep his old first and last name.
A flash of anger surges through Yuri. He squeezes his pen so tightly that he fears it might snap.
Days pass, and Yuri finds it increasingly easy to reintegrate into school life. He's started to enjoy helping Mercedes in the kitchen, and teasing Annette about her silly songs. Dedue, Hapi and Yuri have taken to staying up late together, learning about constellations and watching the stars in the sky. Sometimes, it's nice to pretend this is a different life, a world where Yuri's laugh isn't laced with arsenic, and where his smiles are almost genuine. He's pretty sure he's ingratiated himself to most of his classmates, including Prince Dimitri himself.
Except he doesn't quite know what to do about Ashe.
Yuri has spent some time with Ashe, mostly in larger groups where he doesn't have to try too hard to make small talk. It isn't unpleasant, and he's enjoyed spending time with him, but any one-on-one conversation between them will likely result in Ashe asking questions that he doesn't want the answers to. However, when the Professor hangs up the next class chores roster, and Yuri spots his name next to Ashe's in messy green font, he can't help but curse underneath his breath.
The Professor has assigned the two of them to pull weeds together on Saturday. “It builds strength,” they say as they pass by, blank gaze glossing over Yuri before taking their place at the front of the class. Yuri supposes this makes sense; both he and Ashe are the Blue Lions' weakest physical hitters. Nevertheless, he has a feeling that the Professor has some underlying ulterior motive.
Yuri swallows, trying to suppress the dread welling up in the pit of his stomach. He's thinking too hard about this. Yuri is a skilled manipulator, and he's confident that he can gently steer Ashe away from any unsavory topics for an hour, less if they work quickly.
He's dealt with more troublesome situations than pulling weeds.
Saturday rolls around far too quickly, barreling into Yuri in the heat haze of summer. The sun scorches down on him and Ashe, and Garreg Mach's courtyards sprawl out ahead of them in an infinite, weed-infested expanse. Yuri plucks away at the weeds diligently, trying to focus on the task at hand while beads of sweat drip down his brow.
The direct sunlight is more distracting than he'd previously thought it would be, probably because he'd been deprived of it for so long. Yuri reaches over for his water canister, not noticing that Ashe has reached over at the same time. Their fingers brush against each other's.
“Oops.”
Yuri yanks his hand away, giving Ashe a sly wink. The least he can do in this situation is pretend he got them here on purpose. Physical contact is a weapon, and Yuri's used to twisting it in his favor. A pink blush creeps onto Ashe's cheeks, and Yuri cackles. Much as he doesn't want to admit it, Ashe is kind of cute when he's being teased. Ashe turns away to avert Yuri's gaze.
“Sorry about that,” he mutters. “I know you're avoiding me.”
Yuri raises an eyebrow. Ashe is sharper than he looks. Then again, he did live on the streets alongside Yuri for a good few years. He parts his lips, feigning surprise.
“Avoiding you?”
“K--”
A jolt of panic stirs inside Yuri when he hears the first syllable of his former name. Before he knows it, he's lunging towards Ashe, lightning quick; Ashe's eyes widen as Yuri leans in just close enough towards him to be uncomfortable, placing a finger on his mouth.
“Yuri,” he snarls. Time to nip this problem in the bud. “Call me Yuri. Nothing but.”
Ashe stumbles backwards, butt hitting the soil with a loud thud. “O- okay,” he mutters. “I'm-- I'm sorry!”
“Don't worry about it.” Yuri smiles, threateningly. He stands up, taking slow, deliberate strides towards the next patch of weeds. Controlled, measured. “We've got bigger problems to take care of. How much do we have to get done today?”
Ashe scrambles to his feet, undeterred, raising his voice so desperately that it cracks. “Don't change the subject. Yuri, please-- you know who I am, and I know who you are. Why won't you talk to me about the past?”
Now that they are both standing Yuri can't help but notice that Ashe is almost the same height as he is, which is nice: there aren't many guys at the Officer's Academy who are this small. Small people make for the best thieves, though he's got a strong suspicion that Ashe wants to leave that life behind him. For a second, Yuri wonders if he should close the space between them. Wouldn't it be simple to shut Ashe up by sliding his lips against his? But somehow, Yuri has a feeling that might not be enough to shock Ashe into not pursuing any further. He takes a deep breath, doing his best to quell the nerves inside him.
“We don't have to talk.”
“You aren't making sense at all! What do you mean?”
Yuri sighs. The thought of lying to Ashe crosses his mind once again, but he clearly isn't going to stop pressing until he gets a real answer. Time for a nasty little diversion. Yuri twirls a lock of his hair, tucking it behind his ear.
“I heard Lonato is dead. Did you really just let that happen?”
All the color drains from Ashe's face. He stumbles backwards once again, but that's what Ashe gets for pushing him for answers. Time to teach him a lesson or two about prying. Yuri sneers, leaning in closer to Ashe. This probably won't hurt-- at least, it won't hurt too much.
“When we were children, you were a herd animal, just like me. I thought you were the type to protect your own. I once put my trust in you... Yet the church kills Lonato, and you let that slip by. That's not the type of person I thought you were at all.”
“Oh.”
Ashe drops the shovel he's holding, and it falls to the ground with a dramatic thud. He's trembling, and a stab of guilt shoots through Yuri-- his words were likely too unkind. But it's too late to take them back, or change his tune. Yuri smiles the sweetest smile he can muster.
“We've all done some things we're ashamed of. Leave me alone, and I won't push you on yours.”
Silently, Yuri turns back to his gardening. Ashe hangs his head and doesn't respond.
Remire Village is ablaze. The villagers have been possessed by some sort of strange illness, one that causes man to turn on man and tear into each other like savage beasts. The Blue Lions have been tasked with quelling their rage, and at the end of the month the Professor tells them to pack their gear so they can be led out to battle. Yuri frowns, gently tucking his brand new Killing Edge into its black leather holster.
Much as Yuri is grateful to Lady Rhea, he has some questions about how her school is run. If the residents of Abyss are clowns, Garreg Mach is an entire circus-- a shithole of mismanagement and white lies. What sort of nobility sends children to war, and gives students the power to command battalions?
The plan to split the class and attack from two angles sounds as fragile as Prince Dimitri's emotional state, but the Professor seems confident that it will work. Then again, they have yet to steer him wrong: much as the stench of blood and death is on the Professor's hands, they have yet to lose any of the Blue Lions in combat. Yuri's willing to place his life in their hands if it means that the elderly and young might be saved. Perhaps that makes him as much of a jester as everyone else.
He cuts through a barbed fence with his sword, the sharp edge of the blade easily slicing the wood and wire in half. A young man gasps with relief as an arrow flies through the air to strike his attacker, and Yuri and Lysithea tear through the fence. He stares up at the two of them, eyes wide with gratitude.
“Thank you,” he stutters. Yuri shakes his head, gesturing behind him.
“Thank him instead,” he says as Ashe steps through the fence behind them. His bow is still at the ready, eyes steeled in determination. Much as their last encounter had been unpleasant, Yuri isn't about to take credit where it isn't due. The man nods, tilting his head towards Ashe, tears of gratitude brimming in his eyes.
“You're a hero. May the Goddess bless you-- ack!”
Before he can say any more, the young man keels over, gasping, clenching his stomach in pain. Yuri dashes down to grab him, taking note of the man's blood-stained shirt and the gashes on his torso. He mutters a healing spell under his breath, and his hands glow with bright yellow light as he places them on the wounds. Muscle and skin weave back together like stitches on a blanket. The man stares down at himself, and then back up at Yuri, lips parting in awe. Yuri shakes his head.
“You'll want to get that checked for internal bleeding later. This is just a temporary fix.” He'll never be the most talented healer-- Yuri doesn't have enough faith in the Goddess for that. But he wouldn't have gotten where he is without a dose of hopefulness on his side, or at least, with the inherent belief that he'd be able to get through any situation kicking and screaming. “Now get out of here.”
The man doesn't need to be told twice, scampering away quicker than Yuri can say “Alois' mustache.”
Yuri turns to Ashe and Lysithea, along with the battalions trailing behind them. “Nice work.” At least they can all set their personal feelings aside for the sake of this mission-- then again, he shouldn't be surprised, considering that Ashe has been hardened by his time on the streets. The same strange sense of guilt ebbs at Yuri once again, but he pushes it aside: he can deal with that sentiment after they are no longer at battle. He's about to crawl back out the fence when he hears the clattering of horseshoes, and the clanking sound of rusted chains. Ashe's eyes shoot open wide.
“Yuri, Lysithea! Run!”
Yuri whips around only to see a black, dramatic puff of smoke. A dark rider, with horns and a skull mask, and an army of similarly-cloaked soldiers trailing right behind him. The panic in Ashe's voice tells him that he has faced down this man before, but Lysithea steels herself, outstretching both her hands. Ashe gasps with terror as dark, purple smoke swirls from Lysithea's palms. Shadows dance in the sky around her.
“I can handle this,” she says, gritting her teeth. “The two of you, get out of here fast--”
Yuri shakes his head. “Oh no you don't,” he mutters, grabbing her by the scruff of her uniform. It does little to quell the magic around them-- Lysithea really is one stubborn kid. “Run. Now.”
“Let go of me!” Lysithea yanks away from Yuri. The Death Knight is getting closer towards them, and the shadows gathering in the air grow thicker as she speaks. “Don't treat me like a child--”
“You are not the one I crave.”
The Death Knight's voice rumbles through the area, and he raises his scythe. Lysithea screams out a spell, and a ball of purple shadows dances towards him, striking him square in the chest; he howls in pain, both rider and horse stumbling backwards. Yuri can't help but be impressed. She really is a talented mage, but he can't have a literal child dying on his watch.
“Come on, Lysithea.” Yuri turns to Ashe. His sardonic words do little to hide the fear in his voice. “I- is she always this stubborn?”
Ashe barely has time to respond before the Death Knight raises his scythe, sending it swinging down in Lysithea's direction. Yuri yells, and before he knows it, he's tackling Lysithea to the ground, the edge of the Death Knight's blade slicing through the cape of his uniform. Even though their opponent is masked, it feels like the Death Knight is grinning.
“You deign yourself worthy to challenge me?”
Even though she's on the floor, Lysithea's magic still hangs in the air around them, and Yuri grits his teeth. This Death Knight guy doesn't spare any dramatics, but he's got to hand it to Lysithea for how plucky she is. His opponent lets out a loud roar, bringing his scythe crashing down upon them. It's do or die, now or never--
Yuri jumps to his feet, brandishing his sword. Steel clashes against steel as his opponent's scythe rams into the Killing Edge, letting out a loud clang. Did it work? Yuri tightens his grip on his weapon's hilt, ready to parry the Death Knight's next attack, but then there is the sound of metal falling, and the blade of Yuri's weapon is sent falling, crashing to the ground, his brand-new sword snapping clean in two. Shit.
Lysithea shrieks. “Yuri, watch out!”
The Death Knight roars, completing the swing of his blade, ripping a red, angry slash between Yuri's clavicle and hip. He screams, but then a flurry of arrows surges from behind them, and Lysithea's shadows lunge back in the Death Knight's direction. The shadows envelop him in their darkness, swirling around him in incandescent magic; the arrows pierce his horse, causing him to stumble back, falling to the ground.
“My blade craves their flesh... The weak will eventually die...”
Yuri's in too much pain to think of a witty quip to that melodrama, but the soldiers around the Death Knight stare at each other, blinking, confused before starting to scramble away. He falls to his knees, clenching his wound.
At least they won.
“Are you okay?” Ashe's runs up towards Yuri, placing a hand on Yuri's shoulder. Yuri nods.
“I'll.... I'll be fine.” He mutters a healing spell underneath his breath, and the wound in his chest begins to knit back together, a scar replacing the blood and sinew and bone. Pain surges through him, and each and every one of his limbs feels like lead, but at least he isn't bleeding any more. He smiles. “I might not be very helpful from here.”
In the distance, the Professor is calling out to them, screaming their names-- telling them to withdraw, regroup. Yuri pulls himself to his feet and tries to ignore the searing pain in his chest. He smiles weakly at Ashe and Lysithea.
“Thanks for finishing that job, guys. Let's go.”
There's no point trying to lecture Lysithea from here. After all, they don't know if the Dark Knight might have hurt more innocents if they'd simply withdrawn. He can understand why she did what she did, even if she'd been a small child trying to face off against an opponent far too strong for her. They begin to lead their armies away, charging towards the Professor at the center of the village. The fire has only intensified in the time that has passed, and the smoke around them is so thick that Yuri has to cover his nose and mouth to pass through. The Professor's voice rings through again, clearer.
“Move fast! Don't stop for anything.”
Yuri grits his teeth. I'm moving as quickly as I can, he thinks, casting a look over his shoulder to ensure his army is close by. It's difficult to keep track of each and every one of his soldiers amongst the smoke, especially when his head is spinning and he feels like he's been chewed up and spit out by a Demonic Beast. But he'd be a shitty battalion leader if he didn't do his best.
A loud, baby's wail pierces through the air.
Lysithea is the first to notice. “Did you hear that?” she asks, grabbing Yuri's arm and pointing in that direction. He can just about make out the silhouette of a woman, crouched over, holding something-- probably the source of the crying, a small child who's barely old enough to walk. A strained, wrenching sensation ebbs in Yuri's chest, and he mutters under his breath, not loud enough for anyone else to hear, “We can't just leave them behind.”
He turns to look towards the professor, then back at the sobbing figure. Without his preferred weapon, Yuri's only armed with a weak iron sword and his bare fists. And much as he suspects that he can punch a frenzied villager with no trouble, Yuri suspects that he might have some trouble facing up against any enemy soldiers that turn up. They can't all be Balthus. Much as he wants to charge on ahead and pull them both out of danger, he could very well get all of them in trouble.
Yuri barely has time to vocalize his thoughts before he sees a flash of grey, black and gold.
“I'll be back!” Ashe yells back at the group of them, before rushing into the cloud of smoke at top speed. His battalion stares back, speechless: they turn towards each other, murmuring phrases like “do we follow” and “should we go”. Yuri's eyes widen with horror, and an ominous lurch bubbles in his chest.
Is everyone at Garreg Mach an impulsive fool?
Yuri sucks in a deep breath. There's only one thing he can do.
“Lysithea, take Ashe's battalion back to the Professor. I'll bring my men along with me just in case.”
With that, Yuri jets into the smoke, keeping a hand on his backup weapon just in case. The smoke is thicker and thicker as he keeps running, and he hacks out a loud cough; Yuri's lungs have never been great, and he's already exhausted, but pushing his complicated feelings about Ashe aside, he can't just leave him alone. Especially when Ashe had clearly defied orders to help someone innocent-- perhaps the Ashe he thought he knew is still in there. Perhaps he never left.
It doesn't take long until he finds Ashe bent over the woman and her child, murmuring words of comfort. “Yuri!” he exclaims, and even though the smoke Yuri can see the light brimming in his eyes. “I was going to feed them this vulnerary I had, but if you're here, maybe you can heal them...?”
Yuri nods, lowering himself so he can meet the woman at eye level. “Sure thing.” Now he's close enough to get a better look he can see that her leg is outstretched, with a large splinter of wood embedded into it. She's bleeding profusely, and Yuri wishes that more people had basic medical training: this could have been fixed much earlier if they'd had the know-how. “Don't worry,” he whispers assuringly. “I'm here for you.”
Light dances at Yuri's fingertips, yellow and gold swirling around them. He places his hand on the woman's wound, muttering the words for a Heal spell, but the light flickers, fades, and then soon fizzles out.
Yuri curses underneath his breath. That blow had really taken everything out of him. Without a proper weapon or any healing magic, he's truly dead weight to everyone involved, including Ashe. He grits his teeth. “Hold on,” he whispers. “Maybe I can try again.”
Ashe frowns. “Don't push yourself,” he says, grabbing his vulnerary from his pocket. “This will do!”
Yuri nods, tearing off part of his cape that had been singed by Lysithea's shadows from earlier. Much as he'd like to be more helpful, Ashe is right: he's barely hanging on as is. Yuri leans down and grabs the splinter, muttering an apology before ripping it out of her leg. The woman screams, and Yuri cringes in response. Ashe squeezes the salve out of the vulnerary, beginning to apply it to the open wound.
“I'm sorry,” Yuri murmurs. “This will help, I promise.”
The woman stares up at the two of them through tears. Sure enough, the wound is beginning to close up with the help of the yellow fluid, albeit extremely slowly. Yuri wraps the piece of his cape around the laceration, tying it together with a bow. Ashe smiles down at the woman.
“It's all going to be okay.”
“Thank you,” their patient mutters, choking back a sob while she pets her child's hair. “I thought I was going to die here...”
Ashe shakes his head once more. “We wouldn't have let you! No matter what. We're going to make sure as many of you get out as possible.”
The woman nods, getting up to her feet. She limps on her wounded leg, and Yuri reaches out, holding out his hands so he can carry the child. The woman pauses for a moment before handing the infant to Yuri, and Ashe bends over, offering his shoulder for her to lean on.
“Is this okay?” he asks, gently. Despite not being a doctor or healer of any form, Yuri can't help but notice that Ashe's bedside manner is far superior to his. There's something oddly reassuring about the sincerity in Ashe's words, and guilt sears through Yuri once more.
Shit, he really owes Ashe an apology. He'd chewed him out because of a personal complex, and read him completely wrong.
“Let's get back to the Professor,” Yuri murmurs. “We're going to be stuck on weed duty for weeks at this rate.”
Ashe huffs. “I think it was worth it,” he says, beginning to head back in the Professor's direction. His voice softens, and he turns to Yuri with a small smile. “Thanks for coming for me, by the way.”
Yuri clenches the child closer towards him. The baby is heavy and squirming, and there's no better reminder of the fragility of human life than when one is in your arms. “I wasn't going to let you charge in alone.”
Somewhere in the midst of all the chaos, there is a triumphant cry: Dorothea, Ingrid and Sylvain have defeated Solon, and the village is safe to evacuate. A wave of relief washes over Yuri, and he lets out a soft sigh. Ashe turns to Yuri and whispers “Good job.”
Yuri smiles back.
Yuri doesn't spend long in the infirmary when they return to Garreg Mach. Manuela is a great healer, and two days later he's given a sticky lollipop and an order to “get himself out of here.” Yuri doesn't need to be told twice; he's got an apology to make.
He spots Ashe at the library, bent over a stack of books that's almost taller than he is. Yuri slides up towards him, tapping Ashe on the shoulder.
“Boo.”
Ashe jumps, whipping around to face him. “Y- Yuri?”
Yuri grins-- Ashe's startled expression and wide eyes are kind of cute. “No, it's my ghost.” The remaining color drains from Ashe's cheeks, and Yuri cackles, leaning against the wall by Ashe's desk. “Just kidding. It's the one and only. I--” Now it's his turn for his heart to stop in his chest-- “I came here to thank you. For saving me. And to... And to apologize.”
Ashe blinks back at Yuri. “I thought you hated me!”
Yuri shakes his head. “I could never.” It's true: much as he'd been conflicted by Ashe's actions, Ashe is one of the few people who knew who he was before he became Yuri. That, and there's something about Ashe that makes it difficult to stay angry at him, an aura of earnestness that radiates from Ashe when he smiles. After being trapped underground for so long, Ashe feels like the warm summer sun, and Yuri can't help but want to bask in his light.
Not that he'll tell Ashe that, of course. Some cards are meant to be played closer to his chest. Yuri takes a deep breath, and says, “I was far too cruel to you. I felt like I'd been pushed into a corner, and I lashed out. I knew it at the time, but I should have admitted it sooner.”
Ashe is still staring slack-jawed at him. Yuri can't help but wonder if none of these spoiled nobles have apologized to Ashe when they've messed up. He wouldn't be surprised, really.
“You're a good person. That's what it boils down to-- you're a good person, and I'm not. I protect my own above all else, and you do what's morally right. Even if it means that you've got to hurt the people you care about. It's admirable, and I shouldn't criticize that.”
Ashe starts to get up from his seat. “Yuri...”
“I must have-- I must have brought up some painful memories. It was unfair of me to do that, and I'm sorry.” Yuri waves his hand, gesturing for Ashe to sit back down. “I've got to make it up to you.”
Ashe ignores Yuri's vague instructions, pulling himself up to meet Yuri at eye level. There is a brief moment of silence between the two of them; before Yuri can make a funny quip to ease the tension, Ashe throws his arms around Yuri in a tight hug.
“Thank you,” Ashe mutters. “I-- I'm sorry for getting mad at you, too. I understand why you felt that way.”
Understand? Yuri wants to laugh. Who'd have thought that Ashe Ubert was an actual saint. Yuri pushes that thought away.
“We've all killed people here. That's part of life at the Officers' Academy. But let's just say that if I, one of your dear classmates, murdered a couple of innocents for my self-gain, you'd--” Yuri pulls away from the hug and draws a line across his throat with his finger. Ashe grimaces at the motion. “You'd feel bad about it, but you'd do it because that's what's right. That's what good people do to villains.”
Ashe frowns. “You aren't a villain, Yuri.”
Yuri raises a brow. Somehow, he has a feeling that Ashe might change his mind if he knew about the less illustrious details of Yuri's past, but he's interested to see what Ashe has to say. “Oh?”
Ashe shakes his head, and he looks like a puppy wiggling off water after a bath. “Do you remember how we first met?”
His time spent with Ashe is a blur of sleeping on floors and narrow escapes. “Not really.”
“I was about eight. You can't have been much older. An older man had stolen my sister's bracelet. It was one of the few things we had left from our parents...”
Ah, Yuri remembers now. He smiles gently. The memory is fond, even if it hadn't exactly been the most pleasant of situations. “I helped you chase him down--”
“Even though we didn't know each other.” Two minutes into making up, and Ashe is finishing Yuri's sentences. “You ran up towards him and held the guy down, while I grabbed the bracelet...”
“And sniped his wallet.” Yuri snickers. “That was impressive, especially for a little kid. But what's your point?”
“That's exactly it! You helped me, even though we didn't know each other. My sister still has that bracelet, you know. She wouldn't if it wasn't for you.”
Ashe may have a point, even if Yuri doesn't like it. He sighs, standing up straight. “Fine, I see what you mean.”
He doesn't have to agree or disagree with Ashe's statement. But when Ashe breaks into a wide grin, Yuri can't help but feel like it was worth it to concede this point.
Edelgard is the Flame Emperor. Prince Dimitri is a criminal, charged for orchestrating a tragedy that he was clearly the victim of, and war breaks out across Fódlan before classes can be dismissed for the year. Yuri should hardly be surprised: the self-righteousness and greed of the noble classes inevitably results in destruction, leaving the poor and the downtrodden to suffer. And to think that he was beginning to enjoy his second chance at college life. What a pain.
Yuri spends the next couple of years slipping in and out of Abyss, building his network in the shadows while keeping an ear to the ground. He doesn't have much time to miss his newfound friends-- never mind that he wonders how Ingrid's doing whenever he catches a whiff of meat skewers, or thinks of Dorothea when he hears a choir girl sing. Sometimes, Yuri traces the spines of old books that he's borrowed, wondering if Ashe has read the same stories by candlelight. Do fairytales still mean something to his friend, now that they're ensnared in a nightmare?
He thinks about writing Ashe from time to time. Hey, how are you? Kinda miss you, actually. Hope you're still alive. But Yuri can't afford to establish a paper trail-- the thought of trying to write in code crosses his mind, but he's not sure that Ashe is suited to a life of subterfuge. He's already got enough burdens to bear without having to keep another secret. Nevertheless, Yuri can't leave him hanging, not when Ashe has lost so many people in such a short span of time. He sweet-talks his way into being gifted fancy parchment and ink from the girl who works at the stationery store, and all it costs him is a kiss on her cheek.
And then he waits.
Weeks pass, and then months, but his letter remains unwritten, the tools for the deed sitting by his bedside table under a heavy stack of books. Everything he wants to say is too obvious or far too obtuse for any sane man to decipher. He spends more sleepless nights than he'd like to admit mulling over his words, mentally writing and then striking paragraphs and paragraphs of things he'd like to say.
The right words hit him all of a sudden, like a stray carriage without a horse.
Yuri coaxes one of his men who's headed to Enbarr to send his message from there, much farther from any ground Yuri might tread. Its contents are a little more transparent than he'd like, but he's sat on this long enough. Besides, the country is at war. No-one has the time to trace the source of a two-sentence letter.
The fox may rest easy. Your caged bird still flies.
Yuri doesn't include a return address. All Ashe needs to know is that Yuri is alive.
A year passes in a flash, and then another. Yuri trades his youth and daydreams for new scars and longer hair. The Blue Lions' promised reunion at Garreg Mach draws closer with every passing day, and Yuri marks the days off on a pocket calendar that he'd pillaged from an Empire nobleman's corpse. He taps his chin with a pen as he sits at the Abyss tavern, nursing what Manuela would have once called a “refreshing drink”.
He's got some intel about a corrupt nobleman in the Alliance who's just taking up breathing space, but on the other hand, Yuri could make himself available for the reunion if he sticks around for another week or so. He frowns, taking another sip of his drink, wondering if any of his classmates will actually attend. It'll seem like an empty shell of the party he'd once envisioned, with a vanished Professor and a prince who's supposedly dead.
Nevertheless, it might be nice to see his old classmates. Just out of curiosity, not sentimentality, of course-- it'll be nice to see how everyone's holding up.
Yuri sighs, downing the rest of his liquor. He makes a mental note to send one of his men to do the job.
A week is too long for Yuri to stick around in one place, so he takes a quick detour to a neighboring town to pick up some supplies. A bottle of wine, a new outfit, and a fresh supply of his favorite lavender eyeshadow. Yuri tries on a pink lip gloss in the makeup store, and he smacks his lips together, wondering if it suits him. If he's going to show up to the class reunion, might as well do it looking as good as possible. Not that there's anyone to impress, but he's got an image to maintain.
They'd never specified a time for their reunion back when they were students, and with the war brewing, they hadn't had the chance to schedule one now. Most people would assume that this meant they'd meet at a decent hour, perhaps in the evening or over lunch. (Then again, a reasonable person would probably assume that the reunion was off. Even Yuri knows how uncharacteristically foolish he's being.) Yuri slips back to Garreg Mach in the afternoon in preparation to greet absolutely no-one.
A loud, shrill voice immediately proves him wrong.
“Yuri? Guys, Yuri's here!”
A tiny flash of orange, white and teal barrels into Yuri, almost knocking him to the ground with the sheer force of her hug. Annette looks up at Yuri, beaming, resting her head on his chest and remarking oh, oh, how he's grown. She's never been good at volume control, and as she chatters away about how much she missed him, Yuri can't help but feel like he was bowled over by a loud, yapping Pomeranian.
He's always loved dogs, even if he's allergic to them. The edges of his lips turn up in a small smile.
“Anyone else turn up?”
Annette's head bobs up and down. “Most of us! In fact, you're late.”
“Late?”
Yuri looks up to see his classmates trail in, one by one. Mercedes, her once-long hair now chopped into a short bob, leads the group of them, along with Sylvain. His easy smile hasn't faded in the last five difficult years despite the dents in his armor. They are followed by Ingrid, who shouts Yuri's name and immediately rushes up to join him and Annette in a tight hug, and Lysithea and Cyril, who wave excitedly. Felix scoffs at Ingrid's foolishness, but Yuri doesn't miss the small, knowing smiles on Hapi and Dorothea's lips-- or the bruises on Felix's cheek, and the slash marks in his teal outfit.
Yuri frowns. Now he's got a better look at Annette he can see that her dress is singed, and that the bow on her outfit is askew. Some of his other classmates are covered in the same minor scrapes and wounds. He pulls away from Annette and Ingrid's death grip.
“Did... Did I miss something?”
Sylvain and Mercedes trade looks at each other, and Sylvain lets out a deep breath. “So, about that--” he begins, but Mercedes points behind him, and there is Ashe, at last. Ashe has grown taller, and his hair is longer now; there is blood dripping from a cut on his cheek, and he's supporting a much bigger, cloaked figure on his shoulder. The strange man's hair is matted and there's a patch on one of his eyes, but Yuri instantly knows who this is. The two of them are trailed by an ethereally pale figure with light green hair.
Prince Dimitri is alive, and their Professor has returned to them.
Faerghus, who has lost all hope, might just ride again. Ashe's eyes meet Yuri's, and he beams.
“You're here!”
He is winded, out of breath, but there is no escaping the joyful tilt of Ashe's voice. And in this morning of revelation after revelation, and surprise after surprise, Yuri can't help but think this is the worst time for his heart to start pounding in his chest.
Most of his classmates are whisked off to the infirmary. Mercedes, who is relatively uninjured, explains the situation to those who remain. In lieu of a designated meeting time, Sylvain, Ingrid, Felix, Mercedes, Annette and Ashe had individually decided to turn up at the crack of dawn, “just in case.” They'd found some thieves attempting to pillage the monastery at its gates, but Prince Dimitri-- no, King Dimitri and the Professor were already outside fending off bandits when they got there. No-one else, even Felix, had known that the king had somehow survived execution.
Dimitri isn't quite himself any more, but he's alive, and that should count for something.
“Dedue gave his life so Dimitri could live,” Mercedes says sadly, and Yuri feels like someone has ripped his heart from his chest. He'd always felt like Dedue could have done so much better with his lot in life, and now Dedue's given everything up for a Kingdom who'd treated him like shit because of his country of origin. Yuri clenches a fist so tightly he feels like his hand could break.
No matter how many people he's lost, mourning never gets any easier.
At least most of his classmates made it through the other end of those five awful years, which is more than Yuri could have hoped for. Yuri gets up from his seat in the old Blue Lions classroom. He swallows the lump in his throat, thanking Mercedes for the update, and mentioning that he's got to freshen his makeup before their reunion dinner.
Once he's far enough from the rest of them, hidden in a quiet place by the old sauna, Yuri allows tears to fall from his eyes.
War leaves them little time for celebration or grief. Their injured peers are patched up by the time evening rolls around, and their celebratory dinner in the dining hall is flooded with talk of wartime strategy. One of the Knights of Seiros, Gilbert, announces that the Professor has agreed to aid the Kingdom of Faerghus as a general in the army, and this is met with a loud cheer. They will set up base in what used to be Garreg Mach, and try to push back against the Adrestian Empire for the freedom of their nation. Ashe, who is sitting next to Yuri, gives him a small smile.
“At least we'll all be together,” he says. “We can watch each other's backs.”
Yuri nods, taking another bite of his saghert and cream. He fights back the urge to take Ashe's hand and squeeze it: there's no reason to. They're soldiers on the same side of a war, and there's no need to seduce Ashe for his own gain.
The last five years have been so, so kind to Ashe. He's five-foot-eight of sinewy muscle and freckles that dot his face like stars. And when he gets up from his seat and stretches, remarking that he's had a long day, a strange feeling twists in Yuri's heart like a knife. It's soft, but wrenching, and makes him feel like his breath has been sucked out. Yuri absolutely hates it.
If someone had told Yuri a year ago that he'd be back to his old routine at Garreg Mach, he'd probably have laughed in their face. Yet when the Professor posts the roster for wartime duties, Yuri has the strangest sense of déjà vu; he cranes his neck over Sylvain's shoulder, half expecting to see his name next to Ashe's in familiar green scrawl. And voila, he's right. He and Ashe will be helping in the kitchen for the rest of the month instead of pulling weeds. Yuri smirks, turning to Ashe beside him.
“What do you know? Looks like it's you and me.”
Ashe beams back, and it's almost blinding. “It'll be just like old times!”
It it possible to simultaneously dread and look forward to Saturday? When Yuri thinks about spending time alone with Ashe all week, his stomach brims to bursting with both butterflies and rattlesnakes. He's not used to feeling so vulnerable around anyone, and part of him wonders if this is the Professor's idea of a sick joke. It can't be, can it? The Professor is far too busy trying to end a war. They don't have the time to meddle with their former students.
Saturday arrives like the onset of winter, creeping slowly and then hitting all at once. Yuri shows up in the kitchen at the allotted time, bundled up in furs he'd stolen from a noblewoman that he'd seduced at a ball. Ashe is there already, a smidge of flour on his face and an apron around his neck. Yuri can't help but admire his cheekbones as Ashe pulls his hair back into a ponytail, and he takes a deep breath, hoping that it will quash that awful, wrenching feeling that's returned to haunt him once again. He tosses his coat on a rack.
"Here early? You're pretty eager."
Ashe jumps, dropping his rolling pin on soft, fluffy white dough. "Goddess, you scared me!"
Yuri laughs, throwing on an apron with violets embroidered at its hem. "Don't worry about it. So, you're the boss. What do you need help with?"
Ashe gestures over to the dough. "Mind helping me knead this? Once that's done, we can chill it outside before it's ready for baking."
Yuri nods, running his hands under the tap before digging his fingers in the soft, white dough. The air in the kitchen is crisp and cool, a far cry from the harsh winds outside. The heat from the oven is enough to keep them at a temperature fit for habitation, and the fresh smell of bread wafts through the room. It's only seven in the morning, but if the bread is baking, Ashe must have been here for a while. Yuri frowns.
"What time did you get up?"
Ashe freezes for a split second. He's never been a great liar.
"D-- don't worry about me," Ashe sputters. He plunges his fingers in the dough, kneading it with twice the force. Now Yuri's taking a closer look, he notices the bags between Ashe's eyes: he's hiding something. Yuri pauses what he's doing, turning around and folding his arms.
"You aren't exactly subtle. You don't have to tell me what it is, but we're--" The word friends is at the tip of his tongue, but it doesn't quite feel like the word Yuri wants-- "We're comrades now. Your mental state impacts the whole army. I'd like to help."
Ashe pauses in his motions once again. He turns to face Yuri, brow knotted; Yuri's still not quite used to having to tilt his head just so slightly upwards to meet Ashe's gaze, but he finds that he doesn't exactly mind it. So much for smaller people making for better thieves, but then again, Ashe was never made for a life of thievery in the first place. Yuri sees that now. Ashe lets out a loud sigh.
"Remember... Remember when we talked in the library? About five years ago, right after we fought the Death Knight. You told me I was a good person."
"Uh-huh." Yuri nods. "What about it?"
Ashe takes a deep breath. Yuri can hear hesitation at the tip of his tongue.
"I'm not sure you were right about me, that's all."
"What do you mean?" Yuri asks, raising a brow.
Ashe turns to look away, fingers still lodged in the wad of dough. "You said I was good... And I used to think I was good. I've always wanted to be a hero, just like one of the knights in my stories. But nobody told me that being a hero meant having to do all these awful things. When I close my eyes, I hear the screams of the people I killed. I've been hearing them for years now, but they've gotten louder, and louder. Some nights they're so loud that I can't leave them alone. Sometimes I see Dedue, asking me if I'm proud of who I've become.”
Yuri remembers how close Ashe and Dedue were. He nods, allowing Ashe to continue to speak.
“And sometimes... Sometimes, I see him.”
Lord Lonato. Their first encounter years ago flashes through Yuri's mind, and he's instantly met with a surge of guilt. He's long since cast aside any remorse for the deaths he'd caused, but Ashe is cut from a much kinder cloth. “I'm so sorry.”
“The Professor told me that I didn't have to join in on the mission to face Lonato. Told me I could stay back at the monastery-- that it might be kinder to me. I went because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought maybe,” Ashe's voice hitches in his throat, “Maybe I could talk him down. And I didn't manage to, and then I found out he was... Did you know he was manipulated, Yuri?”
Yuri stays silent. Nothing he says is going to contribute to the conversation, not until Ashe gets this off his chest. He nods, gesturing for Ashe to go on.
“Right before you joined our house, Lady Catherine led us on a skirmish against the Western Church. When I saw the head of the church, I--” Ashe is practically shaking at this point-- “I lashed out. I was overcome with so much anger, driven by some force I can't even start to describe. All I knew was that I had to kill him, and... I did. I pierced him through the heart with an arrow, and then... I stabbed him in the face with my lance, over and over again.”
Ashe's nose is red, and his eyes are stained with tears.
“All I wanted-- all I wanted was for him to feel like Lonato did.”
Yuri bites the inside of his mouth. The right thing to do is hug Ashe, but physical contact has never been comforting for him. With the exceptions of Hapi and his mom, Yuri only touches people when he needs something from them, like information, a reaction, or gold. Sometimes, if he needs to assure one of his men, he'll place a hand on their shoulder, but Ashe just bore his soul to him. He's trembling, likely from a combination of anger, sadness and lack of sleep, and Yuri steels himself.
He thinks of how Ashe readily slings his arm around Felix's shoulder, how he'd lean against Dedue during class. How he'd thrown his arms around Yuri in the library that one fateful day, and how warm Ashe had felt against him in the chilly fall afternoon.
This will help.
Yuri takes a step closer to Ashe, wrapping around him in a tight hug.
A sob emerges from the back of Ashe's throat. He rests his head against Yuri's shoulder, and tears begin to stain Yuri's grey knit.
“It-- it feels like there's this black pit of darkness inside me! And if I stop trying, if I stop fighting to be a good person, it could swallow me whole. So you were wrong about me. I wish you weren't, but you were. I have to try so, so hard to be a good person. One day, I could just snap again, like I did that day. And... And...”
Yuri shakes his head.
“I didn't make a mistake. In fact, you've proven that I wasn't wrong at all.”
Ashe grips Yuri tighter. Green eyes blink back at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You're responsible for your actions and that alone. You can't change how you feel.” Yuri smiles. The right thing to do is to pet Ashe's back, so he does, awkwardly rubbing circles into him like he's cleaning windows. “And you choose to be good, no matter how tough it is. That counts for something. Both Dedue and Lord Lonato would be proud of you.”
Ashe looks down at him, eyes brimming with tears.
“Do you think so? Do you really think so?”
Yuri nods. His fingers lace into Ashe's hair.
“You're the hero of your story, without a shred of doubt.”
First King Dimitri, and then the Professor, return from the dead. Yuri thinks he's cancelled enough names from his list of fallen comrades to last a lifetime-- there's no chance that he could possibly be that lucky.
So when Dedue comes storming back from the grave, leading an army of Duscurian soldiers across the Great Bridge of Myrrdin, Yuri nearly drops his Brave Sword in shock. King Dimitri, even in his blood-frenzied haze, whips around in surprise; Sylvain joyfully screams Dedue's name from across the battlefield, and Mercedes declares it a miracle. A single voice, louder than the others, rings through the air.
“Dedue!” Ashe exclaims. “You're alive, you're alive, you're alive--”
“That I am.” Dedue grins at Ashe, riding up to him on his stallion. Yuri can't help but smile at the sight. Dedue is alive, and the soul of the Blue Lions has returned to them now they're all back together.
Told you he'd be proud, Ashe, he thinks to himself. An enemy charges towards Yuri, and he deftly parries her attack with his blade. For the first time, the initial hopelessness of war has begun to ebb away, replaced by a faint, rosy spark that things might get better.
The Goddess giveth, and the Goddess taketh away. Soon after Dedue's return, the Kingdom of Faerghus suffers a crippling loss in the form of Lord Rodrigue Fraldarius, who gave his life at Gronder Field to ensure the safety of his king. Yuri doesn't know Felix well enough to comfort him, but the other Lions seem to have that covered. He hasn't seen Felix alone since the day his father died-- he's always training with Sylvain, squabbling over food with Ingrid, or sitting silently with Mercedes in the cathedral. Once, he catches Annette leaning on Felix's shoulder, humming songs with him in their old classroom.
On the plus side, King Dimitri seems to have snapped back into lucidity. His Majesty claims that Lord Rodrigue's sacrifice and Dedue's return helped to shake some perspective into him, but Yuri's convinced that it's because he's finally started going to therapy instead of using the Professor as a punching bag for his problems. Either way, King Dimitri joins them for war meetings now, and he, Dedue and Hapi are sometimes seen taking strolls around the monastery in the evenings. Once, King Dimitri sits with his old classmates at the dinner table for several hours, recounting Felix's most embarrassing childhood stories with Sylvain and Ingrid's aid. Yuri laughs so hard that evening, he's shocked he doesn't throw his food up.
There are still days when Yuri wakes up and the war seems bleak, an expanse of suffering that will stretch out for months on end. But there are now more days when Yuri opens his eyes in the morning and thinks that this will soon be over. That he'll have succeeded in protecting his people, the ones he cares about the most. Hope is a dangerous emotion, especially when he’s used to relying on his own abilities and judgment to carry him through, but it can be a means to an end for Yuri, something that drives him to keep fighting. And perhaps it's Ashe's influence, or perhaps he's gotten soft throughout the years, but one day, Yuri finds himself struck with the urge to check out some adventure books.
He sneaks out to the library in the dead of night. Yuri brushes past the informational tomes and history books to the fiction section, and he brushes his thumb across the spine of some novels. “Wish You Were Here, This One, The Art of Receiving Affection,” Yuri whispers underneath his breath. Is this the sort of thing Ashe likes? It all seems rather cheesy to him, but it's the fictional itch Yuri would like to scratch: it has nothing to do with wanting to get to know Ashe better. Not at all.
Yuri's ears perk up at the soft sound of footsteps behind him. He whirls around just as Ashe pops out from behind the bookshelf.
“Boo!”
Yuri clicks his tongue, folding his arms.
“You'll have to do better than that if you want to scare me.”
Ashe's face falls. He scrunches up his brow, looking like a disgruntled puppy. “Darn, I thought I got you! Next time.”
“Your days of sneaking up on people are over. You're far more of a soldier than a thief these days, Ashe.” The words it suits you better go unsaid between the two of them. Ashe laughs instead, leaning against the bookshelf.
“I didn't think I'd find you here. Do you like to read?”
“Sometimes,” Yuri shrugs. “I don't normally go for this sort of thing, but I--” He can't possibly admit that Ashe is the reason that he's curious-- “I thought I'd go for a change of pace.”
Ashe leans over, taking a look at the books in front of Yuri. “I like that one,” he says, pointing to a tome with the words Welcome to the Family printed in gold on the cover. “It's about an opera singer who falls in love with a lady knight, but the knight has to be married off because of her Crest.”
Yuri raises an eyebrow. “Oh really?” The plot seems somewhat familiar, but Yuri can't quite place where he's heard it before. “And I suppose they end up together forever--”
“I won't tell you how it ends! Just read it,” Ashe says, grabbing the book off the shelf and shoving it into Yuri's chest. Yuri blinks back at him, and his lips curl into a smirk.
“I didn't know you could get so pushy, Ashe. Fine, fine. I'll check it out.” Yuri tucks the book under his arm. “I'll make sure to give you a book report on how unrealistic it is. When the good guys win, and everyone ends up together--”
“Is is really all that unrealistic?” Ashe frowns. “I'd argue that stranger things have happened to me. To the two of us, in fact.”
Yuri's mouth goes dry. His heart begins to thump so loudly, he can hear it ringing in his head. Luckily, Ashe doesn't seem to notice.
“I never dreamed I'd be able to see you again, you know,” Ashe says, taking a step closer towards Yuri. “Back when I was first adopted, I missed you so much-- I wondered if you were okay. And then I heard you were taken in by Count Rowe, but then you disappeared, and I thought that my childhood friend was gone for good, but then we found you in Abyss, and then you vanished again, and now...”
Yuri swallows the lump in his throat. Is this wishful thinking, or are Ashe's cheeks slightly pink? For once, silver-tongued, quick-witted Yuri isn't quite sure what to say, and he doesn't like it in the slightest.
When all else fails, turn to friendly jabs.
“What is this, a love confession? I'm not a knight from one of your books.”
Ashe's eyes snap wide, and Yuri's heart stops in his chest. He immediately wants to shovel the words back into his mouth. Nice work, Yuri. Great job fucking this one up.
Years later, and Yuri is still prisoner to Ashe's charms-- there's something about his kindness, his sincerity that draws people to him like mice around a trap. It makes Yuri sometimes consider stripping down the barriers he's put up around himself, the layers of fake names and half-truths that he's constructed so thoroughly that he isn't sure where the lies end and the real him begins.
When Yuri was a child, he'd once wondered if he could wield that goodness as a weapon. He'd be the mastermind with his charisma and his brains, and Ashe could be his number two, his sweet-talker, the freckled picture of innocence who'd lure people in before helping Yuri to rob them dry. Yuri would never have thought that he'd be a victim himself years later. Yet here he is, struggling to find the words to say as Ashe stares back at him like a gobsmacked fool.
Yuri sighs. He half-wishes that some of Hapi's monsters would pop up and swallow him whole.
“Sorry, that was harsh.” Ashe lets out a visible sigh of relief, and Yuri feels the same soft, strange twang in his chest. That's what he likes most about Ashe's sincerity: it makes people want to bend for him. “It's a pretty great coincidence. What are the odds that we'd end up fighting in the same army years later?”
Ashe laughs. He leans in towards Yuri, grabbing both his hands in excitement. “Don't you think it could be fate? You say you aren't a knight, but this feels like something out of a story to me! Two children, born to similar stations, separated by fate and then brought back together by a sheer stroke of luck. That's the tale of legends.”
It's hard not to get swept up in Ashe's enthusiasm. A small smile tugs at Yuri's lips. “Is that what you'd like? To be legends together?”
Ashe smiles back shyly. “That might be nice.”
The sun rises to a new Fódlan. Edelgard has been defeated, and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus is returned to its rightful king. The crowd hoots and hollers as the former Professor, now the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros, places a crown on Dimitri's head.
Yuri's enjoyed grand parties in the past, but only in the name of subterfuge. Yet he can't help but feel a swelling of pride as Dimitri gets up on his feet, taking the Professor's hand in a show of unity. It feels good to be a part of history, no matter how small. Next to Yuri, Ashe smiles, and once again, Yuri feels like he's been blinded by sunlight. The familiar, terrifying feeling surfaces once more in his chest, and he sucks in a deep breath-- it's now or never.
It makes no sense that Yuri should be so afraid of this, considering the number of beds he's tumbled in and out of throughout the years. But Ashe isn't a means to an end like every warm body in the past, no. He's a beacon of hope, a possible gateway to a better future. Yuri's hand shakes as it moves, fingers brushing against Ashe's in a gentle motion. He turns to Ashe, expectantly.
His heart is about to leap out of his throat. Ashe glances down at their hands, eyes widening with surprise.
“I've been dreaming of this,” he murmurs. He pulls Yuri closer to him, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. And for the first time in his life, Yuri thinks he might just live happily ever after.
Ashe - Arrow of Justice and Yuri - Underground Lord
After the war, Ashe was formally knighted and appointed the new head of House Gaspard, which had no successors. The young and inexperienced lord initially faced some difficulty in governing, until Yuri chanced to visit his domain. A whirlwind romance blossomed between the two and they were soon wed. Together, Ashe and Yuri assisted the King in creating policies for better education and opportunities for the less fortunate. Private letters between the couple were uncovered after their death, where Ashe describes their romance as the "greatest fairytale he could have ever lived.”