Chapter Text
“Stand down, Ashe! I must destroy these evil-doers by any means necessary!”
“Please surrender, Lonato! Whatever your reasons for doing this, we can still talk it out!”
“Rhea is an infidel who has deceived the people and desecrated the goddess! We have virtue and the goddess herself on our side!”
“Even if all that’s true, dragging the townsfolk into it like this isn’t right!”
“Enough! If that is how you feel, prepare yourself! I’m putting an end to this!”
That same conversation pounded into Ashe’s ears over and over again with no reprieve, every moment that followed burned into his memory for all time.
How could he ever forget: his adoptive father, the man who’d taken him and his siblings off the street and out of squalor, the man who’d taught him to read and raised him as his own son, the man who’d sent him to the Officers’ Academy at Garreg Mach so his dream of becoming a knight could finally become a reality… lunging at him with his lance, intent to kill behind those once kind eyes.
Ashe had his bow in hand, an arrow already notched. All he had to do was raise his arms and release the arrow, and the threat to his life would have ended.
But he couldn’t do it. Numb to the world, he could only stand there and watch in shock as Lonato charged at him, roaring at the top of his lungs as his mount stepped over the fallen bodies of the townspeople he’d recruited into the militia.
And then Dimitri, his Highness, was there in front of him, parrying the lance and knocking Lonato off his horse, and the professor was there pulling Ashe back, grabbing at the young archer’s face to yank his eyes away from what was about to happen.
“Don’t look,” Byleth had told him, his voice soft yet firm, and Ashe obeyed, burying his face into his teacher’s coat as Dimitri silenced Lonato’s mad ravings against the Church of Seiros with one brutal slash of his own blade.
The aftermath of the battle still remained a blur, three days later. Ashe could only barely remember going to the village to check on his siblings, his gratefulness at finding them to still be safe and sound the only good thing he’d felt ever since hearing the news that the Blue Lions’ mission for the month was to investigate a potential uprising led by his own father.
Over those next three days, everyone else in the class had tried to do something for him, to be there for him in some way.
Dedue had shown him some rare Duscur herbs he could add to his cooking to add more variants of flavor. Sylvain and Felix had taken him fishing on a boat in the middle of the pond at the monastery, one of the only times Ashe had ever seen Felix smile at something that wasn’t a new sword or another chance to spar with Byleth.
Ingrid and Annette took a trip to the market together, and came back with a new serial of chivalric romance books that had been released in the Empire, along with a litany of sweets imported from the Alliance.
Even his Highness had done what he could, and along with Mercedes, had set Ashe up with his own private garden nestled away in the corner of the greenhouse, where he could tend and plant to his heart’s content with no objections from Rhea or any of the monks.
They were all very kind gestures, and Ashe appreciated each and every one of them. But the hole in his chest only continued to fester every time he closed his eyes and was forced to relive that moment of the man who took him in trying to murder him without even showing a hint of hesitation.
Sleep had become impossible; the cries of the townspeople, poorly armed and poorly trained, being cut down by Catherine, and the church soldiers, and his own classmates, and even himself, rang in his ears nonstop.
Ashe lay in bed, sweating despite the cold nip of the night air, listening to the heavy rainfall outside slamming down onto the dormitory roof, hoping against hope that the storm would grow to such a wild cacophony that those pained screams in his head would finally be silenced.
But fortune was not with him. His room crept with shadows, the only light source a small candle he’d lit resting on his desk, and those screams continued to echo, and the sight of Lonato trying to kill him played over and over and over again.
“Please make it stop,” Ashe begged out loud, his hands wrapped around his legs, his head buried between his knees, huddled on his bed as the storm whirled outside into a frenzy. “Goddess… if you’re there, if you can hear me… please make it stop!”
The shadows of his room began to twist and morph, surely tricks of his imagination? Blood spraying from arrows hitting their mark, charred flesh from magical explosions, hands around his throat trying to throttle him, all the while that voice continued to scream “prepare yourself, prepare yourself, prepare yourself!”
He was losing his mind. Tears streaked down his face as he leapt from his bed, not even bothering to carefully lay the blanket out proper the way he’d always been taught to.
His coat hung off the chair at his desk; Ashe grabbed it as fast as he could and darted out of his room, the door getting slammed shut behind him from the force of the wind. It had to have been just after midnight, and the monastery was practically deserted, everyone taking shelter from the storm in their sleeping quarters.
Ashe continued to sob as he ran, covering his head with his jacket to protect himself from the cold bite of the rain. He raced down the stairs of the commoner dorms, making a beeline past the outdoor quarters for the noble students, running as fast as he could towards the professors’ rooms.
He didn’t know who else he could go to, and the professor had always been there before, willing to listen and hear him out, like the time they’d been at the market together and Ashe had chased after that thief who’d made off with that merchant lady’s wares.
Byleth’s room was fortunately the one closest to where he was, and the storm continued to lash at him, his sleeping wear getting soaked from the small of his back down to his feet as he ran up the steps to the door.
“Please be awake, please be awake,” Ashe begged under his breath as he knocked, feeling the tears continue to pour from his face as lightning flashed over the tallest portion of the monastery, a massive boom of thunder crashing down around him.
Not even that could silence the screams still ringing in his head, and Ashe could feel himself beginning to shake from the cold and the fear that had gripped him when the door before him suddenly opened.
“Ashe?”
Byleth stood there in the doorway, still dressed in his usual attire minus the massive coat he usually wore slung over his shoulders, looking completely flabbergasted at seeing one of his students at this time of night, in this kind of weather.
“Please, may I come in?” Ashe begged, his teeth chattering.
There was no hesitation; Byleth opened the door wide and gestured for Ashe to enter. He did so, still shaking, and the door shut hard against the wind as Byleth turned around to take him in once more.
The professor’s room was spacey, larger than the student dorms by a good bit, and there was a decent batch of light courtesy of a pair of candles perched atop a shelf overlooking the main desk pushed against the right wall.
“What’s wrong, Ashe?” Byleth asked, taking a step forward, only for his blue eyes to bulge out on seeing how soaked the poor boy was. “Hang on, let me get you my coat.”
Ashe didn’t bother voicing any objections; the tears still hadn’t stopped, and he could only whimper as Byleth gently wrapped that long, flowing overcoat around him, the garment proving much too big for Ashe to wear normally, so the professor made do by treating it as both a cape and coat at once.
“There we are,” Byleth said, his voice low and soft as he got Ashe fully covered, pulling out the chair at his desk and settling the young man down into it slowly and steady.
“I’m sorry,” Ashe whispered, his chin hitting his chest in shame, his shoulders still heaving from the sobs. “I know you were probably asleep, and I hate being a burden, but I just didn’t know where else to go.”
“You’re not a burden, Ashe. And I wasn’t asleep; I was drawing up some formations I wanted the Blue Lions to tackle during a lecture later next week.”
As he spoke, Byleth lit a third candle and placed it directly on the desk they were next to, crouching down in front of where Ashe was seated once he’d done so. The steady light illuminated his face against the darkness, and the usually hardlined face of his professor appeared much softer than it typically was.
“Now, tell me what you need,” Byleth said, and the sincerity of his tone made Ashe crumble.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” the archer admitted, shutting his eyes in a vain effort to get the tears to stop. “I haven’t slept in three days; everywhere I look, I just keep hearing those screams from the battle, and every time I try to go to bed, I just see Lonato coming at me, again and again.”
Byleth didn’t say anything. All he did was gently lay his hand on Ashe’s shoulder and pull him closer, and Ashe was all too helpless to his own pain to resist, resting his head on his teacher’s shoulder.
“I just wanted to talk to him,” Ashe sobbed, as Byleth protectively wrapped one hand around the small of his back. “I thought he’d listen to me, I thought he’d be willing to see where it might have went wrong. But he didn’t. All those years… and he tried to kill me. Just like that.”
“I never would have allowed that. If Dimitri didn’t get there first, I would have stopped him.”
“But it was such a waste, professor! All those lives, people he cared about, people who respected him, and he just threw them into the meat grinder!” Ashe’s tears grew hot as they spilled forth onto Byleth’s shoulder. “Why? What could be so important, that he’d sacrifice so many! That he’d-… that he’d try to run me through with a lance because I just wanted him to stop?”
Byleth remained silent, simply continuing to hold Ashe close as the younger boy bawled.
“Why… why didn’t he just stop?” Ashe repeated, going slack against his teacher, all his tears sapping him of all the energy he’d been able to muster to run through the rain to get here.
“I don’t know, Ashe. I wish I did; I’ve been asking myself the same question ever since that battle ended. We found those plans on him, that supposed assassination of Rhea, but I have my doubts still. There’s something bigger going on that none of us have pieced together yet.”
Ashe took that in, listlessly. “You think someone could have… manipulated Lonato?”
“Perhaps. He certainly seemed to think he was doing the right thing, minus the whole “trying to kill you” part.”
“And that part?”
Byleth sighed, taking a moment to take Ashe’s face in his hands again to look the boy in the eyes. Ashe couldn’t help notice those hands were rough, callused, and yet so delicate and tender now. “His own son before you… Christophe, yes? He was implicated in a plan against the Church, and Catherine turned him in, and he was executed. When you lose someone you love, no matter what the circumstances may be, you’ll start doing whatever you can to make sense of it.”
“So…” Ashe said, trying to hold it together, “you think Lonato wanted revenge against the Church, and someone could have taken advantage of his grief?”
“Grief is never a simple thing, Ashe. It can turn people to madness and ruin faster than any magic. Lonato saw enemies everywhere in the Church, the people who’d killed his son… and seeing you there, fighting by the side of the woman who’d turned him in, pushed him over the edge. That’s my opinion, at least.”
Ashe blinked, trying to make sense of it all. “But Catherine is a knight, professor! I’m sure she did what she thought was best.”
Byleth shook his head. “Catherine is a knight sworn to the Church of Seiros. That means she’ll follow Rhea’s orders and instructions before taking her own feelings into account. Knights are sworn to their lieges; it’s a part of the training to become one, a willingness to follow orders over your priorities. It’s a part of the curriculum here at the Officers’ Academy.”
“But… but in all the stories, the knights are good! They help people, they care for the poor, they fight evil!”
“Sadly, stories and reality don’t always mix well.” Byleth touched their foreheads together, and Ashe felt a strange sense of comfort settle over him at the connection. “You’re a great student, Ashe. And I have no doubt you’ll make for a magnificent knight yourself one day. But I want you to remember something; don’t ever lose that part of you that wants to do good. Don’t get trapped by whatever oath you end up swearing as a knight.”
The professor was dead serious as he spoke; Ashe had only ever seen him like this right when the Blue Lions had been about to charge into battle, first against the bandits at the Red Canyon, and then again when clashing against Lonato’s militia.
“But… if the entire point of being a knight means following the orders of your liege, what am I supposed to do if whoever I get sworn to gives me orders I don’t want to follow?” Ashe asked, at a loss.
Byleth smiled at him, something even rarer than the dead serious look. “I guess you’ll have to make a choice; what’s more important to you? Being a knight… or wanting to help people?”
“You already know the answer to that, professor.”
“I do. And I already said you’ll make for a magnificent knight, Ashe. Because you want the latter more than you want the former.”
Ashe went mute for a moment, letting the professor’s words settle down into his mind. All this time, all those books… he’d wanted so badly to be a knight. Shining armor, smiles, helping people feed their families and giving the benefit of the doubt to the unfortunate and the desperate, just like the same had been done to him.
Did he really have to be a knight to do that, though?
“You’ve given me a lot to think about, professor,” Ashe mumbled, suddenly feeling the weight of all those emotions he’d had brewing up inside him come crashing down. “I… I still don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
Byleth smiled again. Tonight really was a night of rarities. “No problem. I still have to get back to those formations for next week. If you don’t mind, I could use an archer’s perspective on helping draw up some battle positions that could withstand a volley on top of a cavalry charge.”
The idea of spending the night with the professor did sound appealing, Ashe couldn’t deny that. “But won’t it be breaking the rules for a student to spend the night in a teacher’s room?”
“Maybe technically, but neither of us are sleeping, are we? Besides, the only person who realistically might try to make a fuss about it is Manuela, and I can always win her over with some tea and snacks if need be.”
Knowing Manuela, the professor probably didn’t even have to go that far. He could just flash that rare handsome smile at her, and she’d melt into a puddle and give him whatever he wanted.
Ashe could see the appeal. Those moments where Byleth had been smiling at him… it would have been easy to get lost in that connection. And it was in that moment Ashe realized the screams had stopped, and the visions had ceased, and the shadows had quit tangling together.
“Sounds good to me, professor!” Ashe happily declared, turning to the desk as Byleth rearranged the drawings he’d been working on before getting interrupted. “Well, if you want an archer’s perspective, I would say the best way to mount an offense in the face of a volley would be…”
Neither of them slept that night, as the professor had promised, but while the next few nights still had their moments of pain, Ashe took Byleth’s words to heart, processing his grief for Lonato while still working at his best in his studies and his training.
The rest of the Blue Lions didn’t ask too many questions about Ashe’s sudden turn for the better, but he did notice a few folks, like Sylvain and Mercedes, trying and failing to suppress their smiles whenever the professor would commend Ashe for a correct answer to a question posed during a lecture or offer a warm critique during their training matches.
Life resumed as normal at the monastery for the next few weeks, but as the end of the month drew near, an unexpected development arose.
Ashe had been sitting in the dining hall, enjoying a fish stew alongside Ingrid and Petra from the Black Eagle house, when one of the monks came up to their table and handed him a sealed letter.
“To be opened at your earliest convenience,” the monk had said before returning to the main entrance of the monastery.
This itself wasn’t surprising; Ashe often sent letters to his siblings when he had spare moments to write, and they would do their best to respond as well. Now that they were in the care of the church, their letters were a bit more crisp than they had been before, but the contents were usually the same.
Checking in on each other, telling Ashe all about their trips to the market every weekend, nothing that would raise an eye.
But in this letter, there was one sentence Ashe had never been expecting to see.
“Please tell the professor thank you for the money he’s saving for us.”
As he read it, Ashe couldn’t quite believe it. So he read it again. And again. The words remained unchanged.
“Excuse me,” he told the two ladies he’d been eating with as he hurriedly rose to his feet from the table. “I need to investigate something.”
Luckily for Ashe, he knew exactly who to go to verify the contents of this letter. Not Byleth, no. The professor would probably play dumb if his student confronted him directly. So instead he went to the next best person.
Seteth.
Sure enough, Ashe got the confirmation he’d been expecting directly from Rhea’s right hand. So when he showed up at the professor’s door again that afternoon, there was no doubt in his mind.
“Care to explain this?” he asked Byleth the moment the door opened to his knock, holding the letter aloft.
The professor maintained a neutral expression. “That’s a piece of paper, Ashe.”
“I mean what’s written on it!”
“Those would be words.”
Ashe made a sound of frustration that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a bird’s hunting call. “Not that either! This is a letter from my brother and sister! And in it, they say to thank you for the money you’re saving up for them!”
Byleth didn’t speak for a moment, merely folding his arms across his chest. “I assume you already verified it on your own?”
He was good, Ashe had to give him that. “I already spoke to Seteth, yes,” Ashe conceded. “He told me that you told him you wanted 25% of your monthly salary to go into a special fund held in reserve for my siblings, just in case they needed anything for an emergency.”
“I also told him I’d prefer if he didn’t spill the beans to you about it,” Byleth grumbled, clearly thinking of ways to get back at Seteth for having loose lips.
Not that Ashe cared about that right now. “Forget Seteth, this is between us!” he said, rolling the letter up to store it away in his jacket. “Professor, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. I chose to do it on my own.”
“But why?”
Byleth sighed, raining a hand to his temple. “I learned a lot of things as a mercenary. Perhaps the most important lesson, however, was this: always take care of the people you care about. And I care about you, Ashe, the same way I care for all of the Blue Lions. You’re my students, and I’m always going to do the best for you. With or without your approval.”
“My approval?” Ashe repeated, his voice losing most of its weight. “Well, you know what I have to say to that, professor?”
“Enlighten me.”
Ashe didn’t ask for permission this time. He went right through the door and pulled the professor close, wrapping his arms as tight as he could around the taller man. “Thank you,” he breathed into Byleth’s neck, his tone catching in his throat as the emotion welled up. “Thank you so much.”
“Think nothing of it, Ashe,” Byleth responded, slowly returning the hug. Ashe sighed as their bodies fully connected, taking a moment to get lost in the professor’s touch before he pulled away.
“Sorry, I can’t do that,” he said, an idea forming in his mind. “I can’t just not think about this kind of kindness, professor. Fortunately, I know what to do to repay you.”
“Ashe, you don’t need to-“
“Yes, I do. And I will. Are you busy right now?”
Byleth glanced back into his room. “I suppose not at this moment, no.”
“Excellent! If you’d please follow me then, professor!”
Confused, the professor followed after Ashe, the archer leading them from the teacher’s dorms to the main Blue Lion classroom. As he’d been hoping, the only occupant of the room at present was Dimitri, who was currently staring at the blackboard memorizing the information the class had gathered in regards to the attempted assassination of Rhea that was supposed to be unfolding in a few days’ time.
“Your Highness, do you have a minute?” Ashe asked, causing Dimitri to stir from his analysis as he turned towards them.
“Of course I do, Ashe,” Dimitri said with a warm look, his blonde hair gleaming in the sun streaming in through the stained glass window at the front of the classroom. “How may I be of service?”
Byleth stopped right behind Ashe, clearly wondering where this was heading.
“Your Highness, as the future King, you have the power to assign knights to certain lords and lieges, correct?” Ashe asked.
“That would be correct,” Dimitri answered, now sharing in Byleth’s confusion at where this conversation was going. “Why do you ask?”
“I know I’m not technically a knight, but I plan to be one! Is it possible to swear a knight into service for a future time, even if they haven’t officially been knighted?”
The leader of the Blue Lion house mulled it over. “I don’t think there would be an issue,” he said after a moment. “Of course, as King, I would ultimately have final say even if it wasn’t a regular practice. Are you saying you want me to swear you into someone’s service now, so you’ll officially be their knight the minute you graduate from the academy?”
Ashe nodded excitedly. “Yes, that’s exactly it!”
“I see. I can do that. Who did you have in mind?”
The professor became a bright shade of pink as Ashe turned and pointed. “I want you to swear me in as the professor’s knight,” Ashe declared, to the shock of both other men. “He’s done nothing but good deeds for me, as well as everyone else, and I trust him more than I trust anyone else. If I could ever have a say as to who I serve… I want it to be him.”
Byleth stood silent, struck dumb by what he’d just heard. Dimitri too held his tongue for a moment, before turning to the man in question. “And you, professor? What’s your say in all this?”
“… Ashe, you really don’t need to do this,” Byleth said after a long pause.
Ashe was having none of it. “You didn’t have to do what you did for me, either, and you still did. You’re a good man, professor, and I mean it when I say I trust you. If you’ll have me… I want to be your knight. Your sword, your shield, your arrow. I want to protect you, and to be at your call if you ever need me. Please.”
He took the professor’s hand as he spoke, and it felt like there was an electric current running between the both of them as he did.
“It would mean a lot to me,” Ashe concluded, suddenly feeling very small as he looked into the professor’s eyes.
Byleth stammered, going from pink to red, all the while Dimitri patiently awaited the answer.
“I… if it means that much to you… I’ll accept you. As you are.”
Ashe broke into a wide smile at that, kissing the professor’s hand, earning an even deeper blush as he did. Then he spun back around and kneeled before Dimitri, who was failing to conceal his own smile at this turn of events.
“Very well then,” the monarch said, his voice lowering into a more official timbre. “By the power invested in me, as the future King of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, I, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, do hereby knight you, Ashe Ubert, in the service of Byleth Eisner.” He placed a hand on Ashe’s shoulder, and briefly Ashe was stunned at the power lurking in Dimitri’s body. “You shall be his sword and his shield, his left and right hand. Bravery. Respect. Honor. Courtesy. Loyalty. Compassion. These are all the traits of the Knights of Faerghus. Do you swear to uphold all of these tenants in the service of your liege?”
Ashe felt his entire body tremble. “I do.”
“Then rise, Ashe Ubert, holy knight of Faerghus. And let your service to your liege be one of faith, justice, and in the name of all that is good.”
On shaking legs, Ashe rose, and Dimitri gave Byleth a knowing nod before leaving the classroom, a noticeable spring in his step as he did.
“So… feel any different?” Byleth asked him as Ashe got all the way back up to his feet.
“It’s… hard to say,” he admitted, realizing his shoulder was a little sore from where Dimitri had laid his hand. “But I’m yours to command as you see fit now, professor.”
Byleth crossed his arms once more, considering his options. “You really are impossible, you know that?”
Ashe blushed at his words. “Magnificent knight; you said that yourself.”
“I shall be aware to watch my words more carefully in the future.” Byleth shook his head, then offered a small smile. “But as long as you’re sworn to my service, there is something I need you to do.”
“Of course! Anything.”
The smile became a smirk. “It’s your turn to spar with Felix. I hope you didn’t have anywhere else you needed to be for the rest of the day.”
As it turned out, no. Ashe did not. And for the next six hours, his liege watched as Felix proceeded to knock him onto the ground over and over again, their wooden training swords getting just as much of a workout as Ashe did.
But as exhausting as it was, Ashe went about his duty with nary a complaint.
After all, what else was a knight to do?