Chapter Text
The first time Jeralt hears his own daughter’s voice humming a song she's walking down the monastery hallways, and immediately he pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. Maybe he’s grown so tired from staring at those strategic maps; his ears have begun playing tricks on him. Or maybe one of the brats tampered with his afternoon tea which caused him to hallucinate.
Hah, maybe he heard wrong.
But then, two days later she hums it again, this time while grading papers at her desk. And Jeralt doesn’t need any more hints to know something’s up.
Something fishy.
The Blue Lions’ classroom reeks of dominant male hormones, Jeralt notes mid-way through his Thursday rounds. Even if the room isn’t currently crammed up with students like it usually is, the smell persists, making him scrunch up his nose in disdain. He steps in, only to stop dead in his track at the sound of a hum. It’s too familiar to miss. It’s the same song Byleth has been humming. There’s no doubt in his mind.
Narrowing his eyes, Jeralt scans the room, searching for the source of this humming like a bloodhound during hunting season. He finds his target sitting at a desk, writing notes from a textbook onto blank paper. The boy doesn’t seem to notice his presence, so Jeralt uses this edge to pinpoint as many details as he can and makes plan to find out who that boy is.
He finds out an hour later from Alois, the boy’s name is Ashe Ubert.
Ashe understands the meaning of wanting to melt into the floor and die as Captain Jeralt’s eyes pierce daggers into him. It’s like the man is scrutinizing his every aspect, but Goddess knows why. Feeling the sweat trailing down his back, Ashe curses himself for choosing to wear such a thick overcoat today. Albeit, it’s probably best to have his nervous sweating hidden from sight.
He’s got no idea what he did to elicit such hatred from the Captain of the Knights of Seiros. Desperate, Ashe rummages his brain for any particular event that might explain the situation unfolding before his very eyes. It couldn’t possibly be the book he returned an hour late last week, now could it? He- he even offered a freshly baked molasse cookie to the librarian as an apology-.
Suddenly the Captain exhales (a heavy, earth-shattering breath), and speaks.
“You know why you’re here, don’t you?” His hard voice startles him, nearly causes him to flinch away out of nothing but basic survival instinct.
Ashe hesitates, and staggers. “Uh- I…I mean, possibly? Except- except not…really?”
If possible, Jeralt narrows his eyes even further into two slits. “Which one is it?”
He sounds beyond impatient. Oh, gods. Ashe allows a fleeting prayer for his own soul as his limbs begin to tremble in his sitting position.
“It-it’s a no, Captain,” he bows his head, inhaling the little confidence he has left. “I mean, I do not believe I know of the reason behind my summoning.”
Jeralt stares for a second, two. It feels interminable. “Hm,” he groans. Another pause. “Let me ask you, what do you think of my daughter?”
Blinking, Ashe wonders if he heard the question right. “Y-your daughter, sir? The Professor?”
“Yeah,” Jeralt utters and to Ashe, it sounds just like a snarl. “The Professor.”
“I…” He accidentally bites his own tongue, thinking this couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I- I think she is a remarkable warrior, sir. A-and we are learning a lot from her. You definitely t-taught her well, sir.” A clenched-teeth titter makes it past his lips, and it only adds fuel to the tension in the room.
The Captain doesn’t move a muscle. Somehow it makes him seem even more intimidating. “'That it?”
Ashe releases a queasy breath. 'That it? Was there supposed to be anything else?!
Wiping the sweat that has pooled on his temple, Ashe begins contemplating the increasing probability of his foreseeable death. “Eh-” A bizarre, strangled laughs follows. “If I may, s-sir, ask for a more specific question?”
“More specific, huh?” Fire burns in Jeralt’s eyes. Ashe regrets every life decision he’s ever made, swallowing down the rock in his throat. “Okay, why don’t you start by explaining that song you were humming yesterday?”
Ashe’s lips part in surprise. “H-humming?”
“That’s right.” A pause. “Around noon, I heard you humming a song while you were studying in the Blue Lions homeroom.”
A light suddenly sparks in Ashe’s head as he recalls the scene. “Oh! That song. W-well, you see the Professor started humming it last week during our exam. It surprised us all, since she’s usually so quiet, you know?” He attempts a crooked smile. “I-I suppose it got stuck it my head.”
Jeralt freezes. It takes him so long to reply that Ashe wagers he should grab the opportunity to skip out. Alas, the chance flees by when the Captain at last, croaks a syllable. “Oh.”
A dragging silence. Then: “So, you do not harbor intentions other than strictly educational?”
Ashe fervently shakes his head. “N-no, I do not, sir.” He allows himself a second to remember to breathe. There might be a sliver of hope he’ll see another day.
“…I see.” Captain Jeralt seems to ponder over that piece of information, eventually relaxing his stance. “Well, then. I apologize for the inconvenience. You may take your leave.”
It’s all it takes not to jump out of his chair and burst through the door. “Thank you, sir!”
Once the kid is long gone down the hallway, Jeralt sits back in his chair, sighing as he rubs at his beard. If that Ashe boy wasn’t the reason behind Byleth’s humming, then what could be? Or rather, who?
Catherine pops her head into his doorway, a raised brow and a smirk on her face. “What did you say to the poor boy? He skedaddled out of here so fast, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d pissed himself.”
Jeralt runs a hand down his face, sighing. “Shut up.”