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When Dedue was asked to help prepare dinner, he had expected it to be like in his academy days: him helping the professor out with the preparations, perhaps giving his opinions on the flavours, but mostly being there as a kitchen aid.
What he didn’t expect was to step into an empty kitchen.
Empty, except for a silver-haired young man sitting on the counter, picking at his fingernails.
He wasn’t any silver-haired young man, but rather one with whom Dedue used to be familiar with.
Heavy on the “used to”.
“Hey.” judging by the other’s wide eyes and his choked-out greeting, he wasn’t aware of this arrangement, either.
“Hi, Ashe.”
Merely hours before they were fighting side by side, yet they hadn’t even properly greeted each other until now. The realisation of it felt like Dedue had just gulped down lead.
It shouldn’t have happened like this.
Their class reunion was meant to be a joyous one, and yet, here they were with a war on their hands and no certainty that any of them would live to the following day, forced into the twisted game of kill or be killed with the rest of their classmates.
“Byleth didn’t give me any recipe. Do you happen to have it?” Ashe’s voice interrupted Dedue’s train of thought.
“I don’t.” Dedue avoided meeting Ashe’s eyes and instead let his gaze wander beside him, to the top of the counter, where he found a full sack and what seemed to be a hare, freshly hunted, by the look of it.
“Well then, we can make do,” Ashe hopped off the counter and onto his feet “it’s not like any of us will be picky about the food, anyway.”
He had already started to untie the knot of the sack before stopping to gaze up, lips pressed together in thought, “Except Felix. I’m not sure he’s learned to eat veggies yet.”
He followed with a soft laugh; a brief sound, light like the jingle of a dancer’s bracelets, and yet enough to make Dedue forget how to breathe.
Why are you being nice to me?
Whatever supplies were left from everybody’s trips were gathered for common use and were now on the counter in front of them. There were dried meats, some bread, cheeses and a variety of root vegetables, which was not much, but enough to last them the night and the day after; enough to find a marketplace and put the greenhouse to good use.
They agreed on making soup. There was no certainty it’d taste good, especially since they wouldn’t have time to prepare the stock, but at the very least it would warm their companions up and keep them full. Dedue offered to chop the ingredients and let Ashe do the cooking itself, but the smaller man begged to differ.
“It’s not like I can do much else, anyway, no? We’ll spare time if I prepare the meat while you handle the vegetables.”
Dedue didn’t have any good reason to object, and so he moved aside to make space for Ashe on the counter, his body small yet radiating enough warmth to reach Dedue and make his side tingle.
Why did it have to be Ashe? Why did fate have to play such a twisted trick on Dedue? The professor could have chosen anybody else, and yet it had to be the one person he feared the most.
What made it even worse was the way Ashe feigned politeness. Dedue could stand wrath, could endure Ashe’s hateful eyes and the rage in his voice when shouting: “How could you leave me?”
Five years gave him enough time to imagine what Ashe would have done when they reunited.
Sometimes his mind would conjure the perfect meeting –one worthy of the tales Ashe so loved to read– where Ashe would run into his arms and almost knock him to the ground with the force of his hug. Those were the thoughts he humoured himself with in the cell in Enbarr, when he truly thought he would never get to meet Ashe again.
With time those images grew darker, little by little being plagued by his darkest thoughts, twisted into nightmares that haunted his sleep. There was no happy ever after nor patient soulmate that would wait for him to come home. In the real world the only thing one could hope for was to see another day, nothing more. He was no longer able to escape reality in his dreams, and instead he was to face the most likely of situations, those where Ashe had died before him. Even worse if he had taken his own life upon hearing of Dedue's execution, perhaps seeking his lover in the afterlife, only for his efforts to turn out to be vain.
Dedue soon came to brush that image off, convinced that no matter how much he thought Ashe loved him, he could never be of such importance, that his death would make Ashe lose his will to live. What he considered most likely, the nightmare that haunted him most often out of all, was that of Ashe rejecting him, even while sputtering his last breath, cursing and fighting against Dedue’s hold and choosing the mud instead of his embrace.
“I thought you were dead. Maybe you should have stayed like that.”
Dedue almost wished Ashe would burst out in rage and tears, instead of giving him false hopes with that soft smile and kind words of his. But alas, the gods wished for his suffering.
”So uhm...”
The voice brought Dedue back to reality and he stopped to look down at his work, only to notice that he had already diced the potatoes and was halfway through the turnips. He glanced at Ashe, who had skinned the hare and had already begun to cut the meat off.
“Been a long time, huh?” Ashe continued.
“Yes, it has been.”
“If five years ago someone had told me I’d be here like…” Ashe gestured vaguely at the meat with his knife, “this, I don’t think I would’ve believed it.”
Dedue made a sound in agreement. “Because you thought me dead?” didn’t feel like an appropriate response.
“No, wait, that’s stupid. I— what I mean is: things have changed... a lot.” he let out a long breath as if the words were weighing on him like boulders, his gaze resting on Dedue just a moment too long before returning to the work at hand. Dedue pretended not to notice the awkward lingering. Was the tension showing in his face again? Maybe that was it, and Ashe thought he was angry at him. Dedue had to be quick to change that.
“You’re right,” Dedue said, “we have changed, too.”
Way to make it sound less dull.
They kept on working in silence for a while, the sound of knives on wood echoing in the kitchen until Ashe broke the silence again.
“I moved to Rowe. It was the only option for me after–” a pause, again for a deep breath, “after Lonato. I sent all I earned to support my siblings.”
Dedue nodded as Ashe proceeded to talk about his time in Rowe, of how he sent his brother and sister further North upon hearing the first rumours of an attack, and how he fled to Garreg Mach in hopes of finding allies. All the while they kept on cooking, slowly easing back into their routine, adapting to each other’s movements and working in tandem so as to avoid stumbling over one another; each at ease in the other’s presence, yet keeping a distance.
“What have you been up to? I mean, you don’t have to answer in the details, but...”
“I was in Duscur.”
Ashe interrupted his stirring, “Oh?”
“When I heard of His Highness’ sentence I was among those that helped him escape. They caught me.” When the brief pause brought no response from Ashe, Dedue continued, “I thought I’d die, but the people of Duscur, they came to save me; the very same rebels we saved from the kingdom that time as students. They took me in and tended to me, fed me. They were ready to offer me a home, even, but I couldn’t stay. I have sworn a duty to His Highness. Even then, they accepted my choice. I owe them my life.”
Something cool touched his hand, startling him. Upon looking down he saw Ashe holding it, big eyes staring back at him and a tiny smile on his lips.
“I’m glad to hear someone was there for you.”
Dedue stood frozen, too shocked to reply. The touch sent a shiver down his arm, cold and petrifying. Dedue could barely suppress it. Hell, he could not even admit to himself that it was really just Ashe causing all this, not the cold.
“And I’m also glad you’re here, with us.”
Dedue could not take it any longer.
“Please, stop.”
Ashe’s brow tensed into a frown yet his eyes kept staring into Dedue’s, asking a question before his mouth could, for this was open and twitching as if Ashe was rendered mute, trying to come up with the right words, “What’s wr— what do you mean?”
“Stop lying to me,” Dedue flinched away from his touch but dared not to turn his gaze, those eyes firing wordless questions that pinned him in place like arrows, “you’re only making this harder for me. Stop this polite farce and just admit that you hate me. At least grant me that little relief.”
Ashe opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His lips only quivered in an attempt to form words. Even when he knew he had been long rejected, Dedue was drawn to those rosy lips, now tense in a pout. If he just let himself, he could kiss them numb, make them slack again under his touch, like he did only once before in his life, five years before at that very monastery. He could almost see it all again, the shine of Ashe’s hair in the moonlight that night at the Goddess’ Tower.
They were a forbidden pleasure, though, a poisonous fruit; on one side the pleasure of the kiss and on the other the wound of certain rejection.
“I lied to you. I lied about coming back for you and I lied about being dead. I left you on your own and, believe me, every single day I regret not coming to look for you.”
Dedue swallowed in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat.
“All these years I’ve tried to forget you. The thought of you, it hurt, Ashe, and I tried all I could to just let go. I didn’t know which was worse: to let go of what we had, or to hold on and come back only to realise that I had long lost you.The yearn… I couldn’t take it. I have been in agony the past five years.”
“I—”
“I know. I know you don’t feel the same anymore. Only a fool would still, after all this time. I don’t seek your love back, and I don’t need you to worry about me. All I needed was to let you know I’m sorry for having disappeared. I’m sorry, I truly am and you don’t have to forgiv—”
“Dedue, shut up!”
Silence.
Ashe had his hands on Dedue’s wrists, squeezing them just hard enough to make him notice how he had inadvertently been clenching his fists. Dedue glanced up from his hands to Ashe’s frown and immediately relaxed his grip. Ashe’s frown didn’t waver.
“Do you hear yourself? You’re speaking nonsense. Dedue, you were lost to me, and all of a sudden you’re back! How would I ever hate you for it. All these years I blamed myself for your death. I could’ve helped you, I could’ve followed you.” Ashe released Dedue’s hands to cup his cheeks and wipe the tears off them, “and now you’re here with me, alive and well and... and beautiful . The only thing I can think of is how stupid I was not to have looked for you.”
Dedue was rendered speechless by Ashe’s words... up until he heard that last sentence.
“You know I wouldn’t have let you. It was far too dangerous for you.” his face was burning from Ashe’s touch, his legs threatened to give out, yet with tears in his eyes he still kept a steady voice and a firm touch on top of Ashe’s hand, “Think about your siblings– they needed you more than me.”
Ashe’s face softened before he pulled Dedue further down so that their foreheads touched. Dedue breathed in the mild scent of the mint leaves – so he still chews them on his hunts , Dedue thought,– his breath so faint that it tickled Dedue’s lips.
“You can’t always be the one protecting me. You have to let me do that part, too, sometimes,” Ashe said.
“If that’s what you wish for, then... I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”
“You better…”
And that was when it happened.
It was like stepping into a hole in the ice: he didn’t think it through; he didn’t really know what to expect until he dove in. Ashe’s lips were a tad cold, with the slightest hint of stiffness upon first contact before they relaxed. That moment of doubt was enough for Dedue to wonder if he had read it all wrong again. He made to pull away when one of Ashe’s hands slid to the back of his head, tethering him to that spot, against Ashe’s lips that were now opening up for him, allowing him to take and give in return.
With another kiss Ashe took a step forward, lodging himself in Dedue’s embrace. Dedue tentatively slid an arm around his lower back and pressed him closer, earning a pleased sigh from Ashe.
“Gods,” Dedue gasped as he pulled away, just far enough to speak, “I was so foolish to hesitate all this time.”
Ashe pressed a finger to Dedue’s lips, lightly tracing the line of his cupid’s bow, “Hush now. I won’t allow you to talk so lowly about yourself. I— shit! ”
It took a moment for Dedue to realise that one, the curse was not directed to him, and two, the pot of soup was boiling over, sizzling menacingly and threatening to extinguish the flame underneath. He rushed to help Ashe remove it from the stove before it was too late.
☀
Despite the mishap, the soup was delicious. Everyone sat at the same table in the dining hall, cramming their food and catching up on each other’s lives. For a brief moment it felt as if they were still students and the war was something distant, as if they had all been carrying a weight over their shoulders and it had now been lifted.
He didn’t have time to linger on it, not when a different weight drew his attention away. He met Ashe’s gaze and then looked down at their intertwined fingers, smiling and giving Ashe’s hand a soft squeeze of reassurance before turning back to their friends. If someone noticed them, they didn’t care to share with the class.
When they could no longer keep up with the conversation and their eyes threatened to fall shut any moment now, they made their way to the dormitories. Despite the chill of winter, Dedue insisted that they took the longer route around the classrooms, just to enjoy a breath of fresh air, and perhaps to also relish in the way Ashe pressed against his side for warmth.
They stopped in front of Dedue’s door.
“I guess it’s time.” Dedue brought Ashe’s hands to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the back of each, not breaking eye contact with him. “Goodnight, Ashe.”
“Goodnight.” Ashe had to stand on his tiptoes and lean in with his hands on Dedue’s shoulders, just to give him a peck on the chin, which caused Dedue’s whole face to blush. How could he be so cute and innocent-looking, and yet almost cause Dedue to crumble with a single kiss? Dedue couldn’t figure it out.
Just when Ashe was ready to turn in for the night, on his way to his room, Dedue spoke.
“Wait!”
Ashe halted, his hand on the door handle and a questioning look on his face.
Up until that day, duty to Dimitri was what had been guiding Dedue forward. Yet upon seeing that green gaze sharpened by time, and that figure of his that was no longer scrawny, but filled in and standing strong, albeit lean, all of it pushed duty aside like waves washing sand ashore.
All of a sudden Dedue came to realise that duty couldn’t be the only thing spurring him on, not if he wanted to live. To live for another could only keep a man upright so far before it pushed him into perdition.
It was time for Dedue to allow himself to desire.
“May I have another? Please.”
Ashe smiled that soft smile of his and grabbed Dedue’s hand. It was his turn to kiss it before pulling Dedue along towards his room.
“As many as you want, my love.”