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The Ashen Wolves were an interesting bunch. They were skilled spellcasters, decent healers, and overall excellent fighters.
They were, however, residents of Abyss first and foremost. They were citizens of Yuri’s underground, which didn’t exactly translate well at a formal ball.
“Ugh, that’s such a weird texture.”
Yuri sighs as a disgusted Hapi sneaks a half-eaten gelatin treat back onto its serving tray. He plucks the bitten treat from the plate and finishes it himself.
“Stay back, philanderer! Or you shall be incinerated!”
Wiping his hands on his pants, Yuri chooses to hang back and watch as a red-faced Constance smacks Sylvain over and over again with her fan. He probably deserved it, anyways.
“Hey, I’m just saying that age is beauty! I don’t wanna bang your mom. Well, not anymore...”
Yuri wouldn’t be surprised if Claude tried to slip a little extra something into Balthus’ drink. He’d have to keep an eye out for it.
Tonight, Yuri felt more like a babysitter than a house leader. In the minds of his Ashen Wolves, there was no filter whatsoever when it came to navigating the intricacies of the ritzy parties put on by the nobility. As a result, they were brutally honest, loud, and brash. They weren’t all like Yuri, who could easily adapt in order to blend into any crowd.
It wasn’t a bad thing, really. He’d always admired the strong sense of self that his friends possessed. While Yuri shed identities like a snake shed skin, they didn’t change for anyone or anything, and in a world that preached conformity over individuality, that said a lot.
“Didn’t take you for the type to sulk around at a party.”
From his spot against the wall, Yuri only shrugs. Despite his natural inclination towards the finer niceties that life had to offer, he wasn’t exactly roused by the tinkling of crystal glasses and the lull of soft music. He thought these events were quite dull without a target to seduce or glean information from. “Not my kind of party.”
He preferred loud cheers around a bonfire, cheap alcohol in wooden flasks, and the type of dancing that involved more stomping and clapping than waltzing and twirling.
Claude’s demeanour relaxes at his admittance, joining him against the wall and lazily running a hand through his hair. “I hear that. Those dances that the nobles do are...something else.”
Yuri glances over at him. Despite being born into one of the most esteemed noble houses, there was still something off about Claude von Riegan. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “You seemed to be enjoying it well enough when you were waltzing our professor around.” The Ashen Wolves weren’t the only ones he would be watching tonight.
Something sparks in Claude’s eyes at the mention of Byleth. Yuri had to commend her— she had the heir of Leicester wrapped tightly around her finger. It had taken him years to perfect the arts of seduction and manipulation, only for a stone-faced mercenary to swoop in and snatch one of the biggest fish in the sea.
“Well, she is my Teach,” he grins, which Yuri notes is uncharacteristically genuine and bashful. Oh, she was good. Likely had her claws in deep. “Had to get a dance in with her at some point. Frankly, I’m surprised I haven’t seen you make a request. Kinda seems like you’ve been avoiding her lately.”
He should have known Claude would notice and call him out on it. It just wasn’t in the guy’s nature to keep his nose out of other people’s business, especially if it involved his dear professor.
Now, it wasn’t that Yuri was avoiding her. He was just doing his best to keep her at arms-length. He knew he was letting himself get too close, too comfortable, and his typical resolve has wavered in a whirlwind of tea and chess matches.
Out of habit, Yuri liked to hold his cards close to his chest. What he didn't expect was for Byleth to get better at reading his hand before he even knew she was looking over his shoulder.
She knew more than he'd ever intended her to know. She saw through cracks in his facade that he wasn't even aware he'd had. He'd underestimated her sorely.
Until he could rebuild his defenses, Yuri would keep his boundaries up, strong as steel and hard as carbon. In his experience, letting people get close could only result in disappointment or disaster.
Perhaps some subconscious part of him was afraid she would disappoint him too.
“The only dancing I do is on the battlefield,” he responds mildly, mostly dodging the question. “Besides, I have my hands full making sure you don’t poison Balthus. Again.”
Claude pushes off the wall, his easy smile suddenly turning sharp. “Believe me, if my mother heard any of the shit coming out of his mouth, poisoning him would be considered kind. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle and just slip him a little something to keep him on his toes. You guys might want to steer clear of the bathrooms down in Abyss later tonight. Not enough air circulation underground…”
Yuri rolls his eyes. Great. Constance is going to throw a fit and perfume-bomb the place again. Last time that had happened, the entire underground had reeked of flowers and amber. An extra strong concoction of her making. “Noted.”
“In the meantime, share a dance with Teach, alright? If you’re lucky, she may even let you lead,” Claude winks, sending him a two-fingered salute before sauntering off into the crowd.
Sighing, Yuri takes a weary look around the ballroom. If Byleth danced as fluidly as she fought, it wouldn’t hurt to share one dance, just to keep up appearances. He’d be more likely to draw attention if he didn’t.
He expects to find her still on the dance floor - this room was full of admirers waiting their turn - so he’s surprised when he spots her sneaking out of the ballroom.
Faculty are supposed to stay until the end of the event, so it’s odd that she’s slipping out midway through. Where was she going? A secret meeting, perhaps?
Yuri looks around for the Ashen Wolves. Limbs are still attached, and they’ve been sequestered to a table in the corner. They’ll be okay if he slips out for a bit.
He looks around for Claude, who is distracted in his pestering of Dimitri for a dance. He’s not looking.
So, against his better judgement, Yuri follows her out.
Yuri is sure to keep a safe distance as he trails after her, on the lookout for any suspicious individuals or shady characters in her path. He slinks behind trees and creeps through the shadows, so caught up in looking for who she’s going to meet that he isn’t focusing on the where.
He’s followed her to the Goddess Tower. The topic of some very interesting legends on this particular day.
Huh. Didn’t expect that one. Byleth didn’t seem the type to be entertained by such silly rumours.
His curiosity spikes even higher, and he climbs the steps of the Goddess Tower, sure to keep his footfalls silent. Who was she meeting? His mind relays through the possibilities. Claude, Felix, Dorothea, maybe even Sylvain.
He honestly isn’t sure what to expect when he reaches the top, peeking around the doorway to see…
Frowning, Yuri’s eyes do a secondary sweep. There’s no one.
He traverses in further. No Byleth, no secret lover. Where the heck did she go?
“Why were you following me?”
Cursing, Yuri whirls around to see Byleth behind him, arms crossed over her chest and wearing a wary look on her face.
Doing his best to school his expressions and slow the racing of his heart, he flashes her an easy smile, if not a little tight around the corners. “Just wanted to see where you were sneaking off to, friend. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t make sure a lady got home safe?”
“How noble of you,” she says dryly, obviously not buying a second of it. Shrewd as hell, this one.
Yuri shrugs, stepping out into the open air on the balcony. Byleth follows him, the two of them leaning against the parapet and staring out at the darkened landscape. “Seriously though, what are you doing up here? Were you going to meet someone? A lover, perhaps?”
“Sure am. They’re just late.”
He blinks. That...hurt, strangely. Like the gentlest touch against a fresh bruise. He knew there’d be a chance she was meeting someone. It’s why he’d followed her here in the first place. “Really? Uh, I suppose I should leave you be—”
“Yuri,” she suddenly laughs, nudging him slightly. “I was joking.”
“Oh,” he breathes, not sure why he feels so relieved. “So the professor thinks she’s funny, huh?”
“I do try.” She shoots him a cheeky little wink, and he nearly chokes. For someone so deadly, she could be incredibly cute while poking fun at him. “I just came out here because I needed some air. I’m still not used to being so…” Her smile wavers as she searches for the right word.
“Wanted?” Yuri suggests. “Sought after? Fancied? You shouldn’t be surprised, you’re one of the most coveted people at the monastery. Everybody wants a piece of you.”
Brow raised, she casts him a sideways glance. “I was going to say ‘social,’ but please, I’m not that popular.”
“You know I don’t lie to someone if I owe them.” He didn’t need to lie anyways, he knew for a fact that everyone was enamoured by her. The Golden Deer, the Blue Lions, the Black Eagles, even the stingiest of the Church faculty had nothing but praise for her abilities.
When the wind picks up, Byleth nudges the slightest bit closer to him. He wonders if the flush on her cheeks is due to the wind or… “In any case,” she sighs, “it’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” Starlight sparkles in her eyes, a deep blue reflection of the star-speckled night sky.
Yuri leans closer. Just a bit.
“See that star up there?” He says, pointing to the north.
Byleth cranes her head skywards, squinting up at the smattering of stars in the sky. “Which one?”
Yuri, against his better judgement, takes her arm and extends it, pressing his cheek to her bicep, watching from the closest view to hers possible as he points both their hands in the correct direction. She initially stiffens at the contact, but ultimately relaxes. “Do you see it now?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, the word falling from her lips with a tremble. It’s so slight that he may not have picked up on it, had he not been pressed so close.
“That’s called the King’s Right Hand,” he explains. “Now, do you see the really bright one, just above it?”
“I do.”
“That’s the Blue Sea Star, where the goddess lives and watches us from above. It’ll be disappearing from the sky tonight.”
Byleth draws away to look at him, putting a few inches of space between them. “Is that why you’re here? To talk to the goddess? See if the rumours about her tower on this night are true?”
“Please,” Yuri rolls his eyes. “Do I really seem like the type to ask the goddess to do my bidding for me? Who’s to say she’s even listening to all our silly whims?”
His eyes widen when Byleth giggles at that, and he finds himself completely enraptured as a look of genuine amusement flickers over her face. “Something tells me she is.”
Yuri wants to ask, but he isn’t sure if he could wrap his head around whatever answer was hidden behind that knowing smile. “Well, since you’re so confident, why not wish for something? Better chances of it coming true if we do it together, or so the legend goes,” he suggests instead.
While she considers it, Yuri wonders what it could be that she would wish for. She didn’t exactly seem like the type to spew the ‘world peace’ cliche. Only a fool would wish for something so unattainable, and Byleth Eisner was anything but.
“I can’t think of anything,” she admits. “But I know you have a dream, and we both need to wish for it so it’ll come true.”
Always the professor, putting her students' wishes before her own. “I hardly think the goddess would want to help me out after seeing all the steps I’ve taken towards achieving it,” he sighs, trying to look indifferent about it.
Byleth tilts her head, confused. “What do you mean?”
“The line between fair and foul...it just gets really blurred sometimes,” he mutters, unable to meet her eyes. “I’ve done some questionable things, you know that. ” He did what he had to, because he knows how the world works for the people who need his help.
When you’re poor and lacking the resources to lift yourself out of the gutter, the only way to make money is to steal it or scam it. What better use for his charm than to exploit some weak-minded nobles? Not to mention he led a group of thieves. “I’m a bad person, Byleth,” he admits softly.
She’s silent for a few long seconds, the starry night in her eyes clouding with concern when she looks at him. It makes his chest ache. “I don’t believe that all bad people are bad people,” she says slowly. “No one is born wanting to do bad things, you know? When they do, it’s usually more complicated than we think.”
Yuri doesn’t answer. Can’t answer, so she keeps talking. “I think there are bad circumstances and situations where sometimes we just have to do bad things. Even if we don’t want to. Even if we’re not proud of it.”
The last thing he’d ever expected to hear was validation. For the longest time, he’d told himself he wouldn’t care what others thought. Reminded himself that, whether fair or foul, he would do what he had to do for the sake of others. Even if it lost him a few points in the eyes of the goddess.
“Yuri, I’m a mercenary. I’ve been all over Fodlan, and I’ve seen bad. You are not it.”
He realizes then, when her hand rests comfortably on top of his, that he hadn’t been keeping his distance in fear of Byleth disappointing him.
There was a small part of himself that was afraid he would be the one disappointing her.
That’s...new.
She turns to face him fully, her stare so intense that Yuri throws his every mental defence forward to mask his uneasiness. “So, does it include you?”
He blinks, confused. “I’m sorry?”
“Earlier,” she reminds him, suddenly all smiles again. “You said everyone wants a piece of me. Does that include you?”
Yuri feels sweat gather on his palms and something warm swirl in his chest. It wasn’t often that he felt like this. Most of the affection he put out was manufactured, crafted specifically to hit the weak spots of others, but never his own.
Certainly never this deep and genuine.
The part of him he’d put forward that was cold and calculating wanted to shove this feeling deep down and forget it ever existed.
The other part, the softer version of himself that he’d repressed and kept hidden for so long, wanted to tuck it away for safekeeping.
For now, he deflects, quietly appreciating the shadows and contours of her face under the pale moonlight. “Wouldn’t you like to know, friend?”
.
.
.
Looking back, he wished he’d something sooner. Before the stars in her eyes disappeared and were replaced with hurt, anger, and sadness.