lionsbow
making strides
i'll become the kind of knight
only i can be
---
ashe ubert || fire emblem
affiliated with kny
34 posts
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palacebound:
@lionsbow liked for a starter!!
She’s taken a wrong turn, somehow. It’s not as if she’s looking for something in particular, when the amount of information is limitless. There’s much she doesn’t understand about this world. Questions are only answered with more questions. Zelda catalogs as much as she can learn, but… the truth is, learning is interrupted by how much this place reminds her of Hyrule. The ruins of an ancient civilization, technology that seems years and years misplaced.
However…
The room she’s entered… The cryo-preservation chamber. She stares at the bodies of the royal family, stunned into silence. It reminds her of the Shrine of Resurrection. Of Link. Are they alive? Are they… gone? Though she’s watched Link for the last hundred years, even as he slept… To be face to face with a situation so similar? Zelda’s uncertain of what to feel. It’s unsettling. Resurfacing from her thoughts is when she realizes Ashe has joined her.
A hand reaches out to touch the chamber, but stops in mid-air, “It’s rather… melancholic, isn’t it? Truly, to hide them away down here. It’s… beyond disrespectful and cruel.” Her fingers curl into a light fist, then return to her side. “It’s… hard to imagine who would do this, or why.”
In truth, he wishes he hadn’t followed her down here. Not once he sees the preserved bodies in the containers before them, still as corpses. Ashe can only stare at them for a long moment, a faint hint of nausea rising up within him. He’s unfortunately grown accustomed to seeing the dead, though he doesn’t know if the people they’re looking upon are truly dead or not, trapped as they are, but they certainly look the part to him. No, what unsettles him most is the whole of it: The machines holding them like they’re figures on display, hidden away in this run-down building. It’s not right.
The princess’ words reach his ears on a delay, taking some time to cut through the haze of his thoughts for him to understand she’d been speaking to him. He looks away from the chambers, turning his eyes to her for some reprieve from the sight of frozen bodies. It’s some small comfort that she, too, finds it to be a dreadful sight.
“What is all of this...?” he asks, the machinery being wholly unfamiliar to him. Zelda seems to have some understanding of it, given her reaction to it all; hopefully he isn’t pressing where he shouldn’t. “Why are they... down here? What happened to them?”
The last two he knows she doesn’t have answers to any more than he does, but they leave his lips regardless, gaze returning to the frozen family. This whole place has been a riddle wrapped in enigma, and Ashe finds he understands less and less the more he sees of it all. This is, perhaps, the hardest to understand.
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[ sorry to everyone still waiting on replies or starters from me, i promise i haven’t forgotten! it’s been an incredibly busy couple of weeks at work for me and i just have barely had the energy to exist lately. i’ll get around to as much as i’m able to tomorrow. ]
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@allaganeyed
Ashe wanders through the seemingly endless rows of headstones in the graveyard, a little knot forming in his throat as he passes each one.
This kingdom is not his, he knows this, but he still turns his eyes to the engravings on every one, as if any will bear names he recognizes. So far none do-- of course they wouldn’t. His friends are far away from here, not buried underground in some ancient graveyard, but the feeling of dread simply refuses to pass. He sees, in some small part, how this could turn into a very cold reality in Faerghus.
( Perhaps it already is, in places he doesn’t see. The war has been going on for so long now. How many have they buried? How many will yet be returned to the earth before it’s won? )
He doesn’t want to think about it, but it lingers regardless. A war isn’t won without bloodshed on both sides, much as he detests it all. Much as he hates to be responsible for shedding so much of that blood. His faith in the church, the kingdom, the prince... it all guides him forward in spite of his upset. For just a moment, looking out over the veritable sea of the dead around him, he feels that faith waver ever so slightly.
Lost as he is in his thoughts, however, he neglects the passage of someone else among the graves, his back turned to them and head downcast as he kneels to read the inscription on another tombstone. Unfamiliar names, all of them, but someone knew them, once upon a time. Is anyone left to remember them now?
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[ i meant to put up an event starter call way sooner but i’m bad about procrastinating!
so smash that mf like button for a little part 1 empyrea starter, tentatively capping at 2 for now. ]
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Ask My Muse About Death
Send my muse one or a few of these questions (all of them related to death, life after death, etc. so please read with that warning in mind)
Have you ever come close to dying?
What do you think is the worst possible way to die?
Do you think there’s life after death?
If you were reborn as someone/something new, who or what would you want to be?
If you do believe in the afterlife, what kind of afterlife do you think awaits you?
Have you ever taken someone’s life?
Are you afraid of dying?
Do you ever wish you were immortal?
If you are immortal, do you ever wish you were mortal instead?
Name one (or a few) people in your life whose death would ruin you.
Who do you think would miss you most if you were gone?
Name one person you’d protect even if it meant sacrificing yourself.
If you had to choose a way to die, what would you choose?
Have you ever seen someone die (but you didn’t cause it)?
Has someone ever tried to severely hurt you?
Could you kill someone if it meant protecting yourself or someone else?
If you could meet someone who has died, who would it be?
Do you believe the dead ever come back to walk the earth?
Have you ever seen a ghost/spirit?
If you’ve ever had a near-death experience, describe what happened and what you saw/experienced.
BONUS: FOR UNDEAD/SPOOKY MUSES
How did you die?
What’s the last thing you remember before death?
Is the afterlife/undeath exactly as you pictured it to be?
What do you consider yourself (ghost, zombie, spirit, etc.)?
Do you wish you were alive and mortal again?
Was death frightening to you?
What have you learned since your death?
When you meet living people, are they afraid of you?
If you could be brought back to life, would you accept?
Did you return for a reason?
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Leave an object in my ask and my muse will react to it being given to them.
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currant
copic color headcanonscurrant: what’s something that absolutely disgusts your muse (can be a person, place, thing, ect)?
this feels like the biggest copout imaginable but-- ( cut for very tiny spoilers wrt one of his paired endings & brief mentions of racism )
i think i’d have to say the thing that disgusts him most of all is people being treated unfairly? i’ll never really be over his paired ending with dedue seeing him turning down knighthood- the one thing he’s dreamed about achieving since he was a child -over the fact that the kingdom was still so prejudiced against the people of duscur in spite of them having been proven innocent of the crimes they supposedly committed. he rededicates his whole life to trying to bridge that gap, and if that doesn’t speak to how far he’s willing to go to right that kind of wrong, i don’t know what else could.
his experiences don’t compare to what the people of duscur have had to suffer through, but he does know what it’s like to live on the bottom tier of society and be mistreated due to the inherent prejudices in people of high status. whether it’s due to wealth, societal status, race, gender, or any combination of the above, if you abuse or mistreat people for things like that, be prepared for him to have something to say about it.
#;ooc#;headcanons#i had to write this twice bc i accidentally hit the home button trying to change tabs#screams into the void#anyway i'm not super happy with this answer but it's all i got#golden-dear
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mallow!
copic color headcanonsmallow: what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds?
i could probably come up with a whole list of little things that would specifically make him think of each individual person in the blue lions + byleth but that would be A Lot i think.
in general, i imagine he still associates stuff like the sound of food cooking with his family, or his parents specifically. something sizzling in a pan, the sound of chopping vegetables, a pot boiling. that sort of thing. he grew up in a restaurant his parents owned, so hearing it always takes him back to his early childhood, at least a little bit. it makes being in the kitchen sort of like being in his comfort zone.
he’d also likely associate the sound of hymns with his time the monastery, though depending on circumstance it’s either nostalgic for his time there at school ( good! ) or in the present during the war ( very complicated! ). who exactly these memories would bring to mind varies.
certain books likely spark association with specific people as well, like his adoptive father or one of his friends, depending on the books in question.
#;ooc#;headcanons#i really could come up with like a huge ass list but i will spare you all the tedium of reading that#mallevolence
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crimson!
copic color headcanonscrimson: how passionate is your muse about the things they love most?
ashe is an incredibly passionate person when it comes the things he loves most! he believes in things like his ideals and aspirations very strongly, and he always aims high when he sets goals to achieve. when it comes to things like hobbies or other activities he enjoys, he’s enthusiastic and always eager to share what he loves with the people he loves.
and when it comes to people, he’s passionate about them, too! the people he loves most will ( almost ) always know it, and he’s incredibly dedicated to them. ashe doesn’t really do anything in half measures if it’s important to him.
#;ooc#;headcanons#he's been told to be more moderate abt his passions for a good reason#but will he listen? unlikely#allaganeyed
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colorful headcanons.
( send me a copic color for a headcanon )
frost blue: does your muse enjoy the snow and cold? or are they the type to enjoy summer more?
peacock blue: is your muse honest? what sorts of lies do they tell, if not?
lapis lazuli: does your muse prefer the idea of exploring the depths of the oceans, or the boundless expanses of space more?
reddish brass: how likely is your muse to step up and take the role of a leader? are they willing to take the challenge, or are they more apt to being a follower?
burnt umber: how stable is your muse, mentally and/or emotionally?
champagne: does your muse drink (alcohol)? are they a heavy drinker, if so?
tea orange: what is something that your muse is fascinated with?
malachite: has your muse ever done anything that they winded up feeling incredibly guilty for in the end?
olive: is your muse prone to feeling envious of others? if yes, what is it that they typically feel envious over?
vermillion: is your muse courageous, or would they consider themselves to be more of a coward?
coral: what is your muse’s romantic and sexual orientations?
bougainvillaea: would your muse consider themselves as blunt, or do they beat around the bush instead?
currant: what’s something that absolutely disgusts your muse (can be a person, place, thing, ect)?
crimson: how passionate is your muse about the things they love most?
raspberry: what food and/or drink can your muse not get enough of? do they indulge in it often, or is it something reserved for special occasions?
baby blossoms: does your muse have a favorite scent? what is it, and why?
mallow: what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds?
aubergine: does your muse prefer the day, or are they more of a night-owl?
acacia: how much does it take for your muse to hate someone?
cadmium yellow: what subjects or topics does your muse avoid, because they bring up harmful / painful memories?
honey: when your muse loves someone (whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial love), how do they show it?
chartreuse: if you had to describe your muse with a color, what color would it be and why?
anise: when it comes to self-care, what does your muse do to take care of themselves? do they take care to spend time on it, or do they feel they don’t deserve it?
new leaf: what message would your muse send to their past self, if any?
moss: how easily does your muse adapt to any new situations they’re thrust into?
silk: does your muse care about appearances much? do they spend a lot of time on their own appearance, or do they just go with the flow each day?
sanguine: does your muse typically have an optimistic, pessimistic, or some middle ground outlook on life?
atoll: if your muse could go anywhere, without any restrictions whatsoever, where would they go? why would they go there?
cool grey: if your muse could ensure one thing for certain in their future to come, what would it be?
black: does your muse have a ‘bucket list?’ list some things your muse wants to accomplish before they die.
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❛ people would take your raging far more seriously if you weren’t crying the entire time. ❜ (i'm so sorry this is so funny i had to send it)
shitty horoscopes, part one
“I’m NOT--,” he starts, words and eyes both unusually sharp for someone as typically soft-spoken as Ashe, but he cuts himself off just as sharply.
He stares at Felix for a long moment, the expression on his face twisted and unreadable. Without even looking at himself he knows what a sight he must be, eyes red and chest heaving, standing in the doorway like some wild creature that broke into the apartment in the dead of night. Is he angry, or is he sad? Even Ashe can’t be sure. Both emotions clash in that space between his ribs, and he clenches his fists tight against the sensation of it all.
“...Ugh. Shut up, Felix,” is all he finally manages after such silence, though the rebuke is too soft to be genuine. He’s not directly mad at Felix, though he is ashamed at being seen in such disarray by him. If he thought it would do him any good he’d just crawl back to his room, shut the door, and retreat to bed until daybreak, but lying in the dark alone when he already feels this horrible only makes the pit in his stomach sink further.
Ashe uncurls his clenched hands, bringing one up to inelegantly rub the tears from his eyes with the heel of it. Of all the Blue Lions he’d be least okay with being caught crying, Felix ranks at a solid #3 on the list, but at least it’s taken the fight out of him pretty quickly. No point in pretending it didn’t happen.
“You weren’t even supposed to hear any of that.”
#QUINN THIS IS MAKING ME HOWL#thanks felix ur a real pal#idk what he's all wound up abt he's up late upset over something tho#dreamknighted
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𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈
sentences from amrit brar’s shitty horoscopes series. you may adjust as needed.
BOOK I: SUCH TERRIBLE THINGS
❛ holy fucking shit. just. holy shit. what the fuck. ❜
❛ nobody really knows the nuances of what you get up to in your spare time, and honestly they’re probably better off that way. ❜
❛ busy yourself with the affairs of the living, for once.. ❜
❛ the answer is no. ❜
❛ ohhh boy. you. fuck you. yes, you specifically. ❜
❛ delete your search history. ❜
❛ please practice blinking as others can be unsettled by your inhuman ability to maintain an unbreakable stare during casual conversation. ❜
❛ what did you ever do to deserve this? in all probability, something terrible. ❜
❛ you are a crayon. get out of the toolbox. ❜
❛ none will love the butcher. don’t take it too personally. ❜
❛ some relationships, like warts, can be handled with the tactful application of liquid nitrogen. ❜
❛ take a long shower. wash your hair. wash the clothes you were wearing. wash the memories from your mind and body. ❜
BOOK II: ANGER
❛ frostbite is considerably difficult to heal from. ❜
❛ there is poetry in brutal efficiency. ❜
❛ HELLFIRE HELLFIRE HELLIRE. ❜
❛ people would take your raging far more seriously if you weren’t crying the entire time. ❜
❛ what made you so vindictive? ❜
❛ some bodies may be temples, but all are ruins at your feet. ❜
❛ your contempt will always taste like grief. ❜
❛ in the process your body is subsumed piece by piece. ❜
❛ you are the bone-deep fury of an abscessed tooth. ❜
❛ you are notorious for rubbing salt in the wound. cheap vodka in the wound. battery acid in the wound! ❜
❛ vehicular arson is not the answer. ❜
❛ hate is a verb. ❜
BOOK III: PETTY EXISTENTIAL CRISES
❛ the sooner you accept your impending expiration, the sooner you can stop trying to swallow the sun. ❜
❛ embrace the inevitable. snuggle with the inevitable. take the inevitable out to a nice, candle-lit dinner. ❜
❛ there are forces outside of your control. most of them don’t care for you. ❜
❛ when it all goes to hell just remember it’s what’s inside that counts (though many would not find you very appetizing). ❜
❛ not all things have significance, which is scary. the things you overlooked tend to have the most, which is scarier. ❜
❛ your teeth are only porcelain, your ribcage simply glass. like all delicate things, they can know no permanence. ❜
❛ in time you’ll learn that “just” and “right” only mean the same thing when they’re coming from very specific people. please don’t cry. ❜
❛ you may not want to change, but the world is unforgiving and will do it for you anyway. ❜
❛ sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places (what the fuck is it going between your teeth). ❜
❛ nothing can stay. ❜
❛ you can put all the flowers in your mouth that you fucking want, but dying is dying and rot is rot. ❜
❛ loneliness is the fracture that never heals quite right. ❜
BOOK IV: RESOLUTIONS
❛ lay them to rest. ❜
❛ they are there, hovering nervously. you will watch the skies. you will wait. ❜
❛ eat the other. ❜
❛ there will be scrapes and sutures: viciousness and victory. ❜
❛ no loose ends. ❜
❛ a cacophony of awe and joy and terror. ❜
❛ an eye for an eye. a tooth for a tooth. a knife for the ribs. ❜
❛ you will not be swayed by the morally destitute. ❜
❛ decay will feed the bloom. ❜
❛ devour death like crows, for all the feathers between your teeth. ❜
❛ twisting/screaming/uncompromising. every inch. every iota. ❜
❛ once, answers were found in mouths, bathtubs, and bottles. this time around, get inventive. ❜
BOOK VI: AFTER THE FALL
❛ lies you have told yourself: your humanity is the largest burden you will bear. ❜
❛ decorating your meltdowns is all well and good, but a trainwreck is a trainwreck and it might be time to get a paramedic. ❜
❛ they tell you “there i nothing to fear but fear itself,” but you have seen yourself in the mirror. ❜
❛ you may have been gutted but you mouth is soft, your tongue is silver, and your teeth are gemstones cut to size. ❜
❛ it’s less like biting off more than you can chew, and more like dislocating your jaw. ❜
❛ even spectres can tire. ❜
❛ seeing yourself for who you really are would be great if you knew where to start looking. ❜
❛ it pays to kill with kindness when you’re your own worst enemy. ❜
❛ you’re only armed to the teeth because you’re more brittle than you’d care to admit. ❜
❛ your ego cannot afford cremation or caskets. ❜
❛ frequent tastes of your own medicine can get poisonous real quick. ❜
❛ self reflection is important! whether you like what you see is up for debate. whether it can be contained in a dark basement is another matter entirely. ❜
BOOK VII: MAGICK
❛ you are a quiet god, and your hunger is cavernous. ❜
❛ at times your body is simply a prison laid in gold. ❜
❛ death, dust, party, repeat. ❜
❛ devour the monsters and you can call any place home. ❜
❛ you’re only as lucky as your expectations are low. ❜
❛ worse than having too many secrets is having no secrets at all. ❜
❛ if seeing is believing you might be in some trouble. ❜
❛ suspend belief. expel fear. throw reason into a frigid cell, never to be seen again. ❜
❛ killing the monsters is the easy bit. it’s finding them that’s the hard part. ❜
❛ there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters. ❜
❛ a mouthful of ashes bested by a life of smoke and mirrors. ❜
❛ what’s to be gained from the keeping the heaviest of treasures behind your teeth? ❜
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🐈 Lean against my muse’s side
Ashe is, admittedly, rather spaced out as he stands in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a distinct lack of focus. He’s supposed to be doing something, that’s why he came in here, but… his mind is elsewhere, as is his motivation.
As nice as it’s been here, adjusting hasn’t been the easiest feat in the world. The city is still strange to him, and his reason for having been taken remains elusive. Not a day goes by where he doesn’t wonder- doesn’t worry -after the friends that have been left behind. He hopes more than anything that they’re okay; that he can see them again sooner rather than later. That nobody is particularly worried or upset by his absence.
( The small voice deep in the back of his mind insisting nobody would worry for him chimes, then falls silent. )
Lost in his thoughts as he is, he doesn’t hear Felix enter, nor take particular note of his presence until the swordsman is at his side, leaning into him. It’s startling for the briefest of moments, then incredibly comforting. Ashe doesn’t know if Felix is doing this for his own sake or not, and he isn’t going to ask. This can’t be easy on him, either, even if he isn’t the type to voice his worries aloud like that. Ashe can see it in him, whether he wants him to or not.
He entertains a thought, just for a moment, of putting his arms around Felix. He knows better than to follow through on the impulse, but warmth of the body against his only makes him acutely aware of just how long it’s been since he’d received any sort of physical affection beyond the occasional pat on the back or shoulder. He feels a bit like a child for wanting it, but he has a sudden need to feel someone’s arms around him, and he aches slightly for the lack of it.
He leans himself against Felix in turn with an almost inaudible sigh, settling instead for resting his head against his shoulder. This can be enough. At the very least, neither of them are in this alone, and that’s a blessing in and of itself. He wants to say something to that effect aloud, but this only works if they don’t talk about it, he thinks. So he simply closes his eyes instead, allowing the two to stand together in silence, and for at least a short while, he feels more relaxed than he has in days. He hopes Felix finds some comfort in it, too.
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@palacebound
He runs his fingers along the spines of the books stacked across the shelf, disappointed to find that all the names don’t ring familiar. Ashe isn’t even certain of what it is he hopes to find here, but books have always been a comfort to him, and if there’s anything he’s in need of so far from his home and his companions, it’s something comforting.
Not that he should have expected this unusual place to have any of his favorites, but he’s persistent in his searching all the same. It’s a library, and what library could simply not include such unforgettable classics? Though he knows them all front to back, to hold a copy of The Moon Knight’s Tale or Loog and the Maiden of Wind in his hands again would really make his day. They seem to be omitted entirely, however, so at this point he’d happily take any knight fables this place could offer up.
As he continues pouring over the shelves in silence, he takes notice of a young woman browsing the same selection. Anticipating her approach, he steps to the side, allowing her unimpeded access to the section of books he’d been lingering in front of.
“Not in the way, am I?” he asks quietly, respectfully keeping his voice down just low enough for only her to hear it. Gotta be mindful of others trying to read, after all.
#palacebound#palacebound 01#i didn't realize until right as i was wrapping this up that both the starters i wrote for you#involve ashe just being in your character's way#that was unintentional but i'm laughing
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dreamknighted:
🗡┊ His excuse was a decently reasonable one, but there was still a few holes with the idea that no one would want to pretend to be ashe. If someone pretended to be someone close to felix he could easily spot flaws in their act, if it was someone who was less close to him … he wouldn’t notice as readily. He was very on edge with this whole idea that this person could possibly be an assassin. Sword still held ready to struck at any moment but the possible faker starter to speak once more, talking about years ago, when they still trained at the academy together.
🗡┊ He remembers the day that he was talking about, snapping the string completely in two in front of several people, even felix admits it was a bit funny. It was so long ago now but it was such a random memory, not a big one like a battle or when someone had gotten hurt or something had happened at the monastery, but just a simple training mishap that happened every day, not to mention it seemed rather important to ashe. While felix’s glare still remained he slowly lowered the sword to his side and let out one huff as he brought his other hand up to his own hair, ruffling it in clear frustration.
❛ That was so long ago, and you still remember such an embarrassing thing ? ❜ Well clearly he did, but it was more so felix just pointing it out, since usually, people hated to remember embarrassing things about themselves, but ashe was an odd one, though he appreciated him in the group that was the blue lions, even if he didn’t say it outwardly.
❛ Alright, fine. I believe you, please spare me any more details from when we were teens, I already got enough of it from Sylvian ❜
🗡┊ He finally put the sword back into its spot had had it before, resting right beside his bed as he looked back to ashe. Why were they both in this place ?
❛ Tell me, ashe … What is the last thing you remember before waking up in this place ? ❜
He laughs, unable to resist it once it comes bubbling up at the apparent embarrassment such recollections appear to give Felix. He kind of can’t blame him for that, but that’s what such memories are for, aren’t they? You look back, you share them with people you care for, and you laugh. Ashe hasn’t had much to laugh about in a while; it feels nice.
“Okay, okay! No more talking about school, I promise.” For now, anyway. It feels inevitable that it might come up again, but he’ll resist a further trip down memory lane, if only to spare Felix. “Just know I’ve got more where that came from if you start to doubt me again.”
He’s only teasing, but the truth of it is that he wants to enjoy the memories of those happy days while they remain untarnished entirely in his mind. Wants to remember his friends as the smiling, carefree people they were before war plunged everything they knew and loved into chaos. Those same classmates were now their foes, familiar faces standing on both sides of the battlefield in opposition to the Kingdom’s army.
It aches, deep inside his chest. He doesn’t want to fight them; doesn’t want to kill them. Ashe has tried so hard not to remember the good times they all once shared, if only so putting them to the sword in combat will hurt less. It won’t, and he knows it, but he has to try. Has to believe. Telling himself he’s putting his faith in the right things- the right person -has been the only thing keeping him going at times.
“We... were making preparations to march on Gronder Field,” he says after a long pause, the answer to Felix’s question about his last memories before arriving. It was a march he dreaded more than any thus far, knowing that the two other armies, populated with those he once knew, would be awaiting them there. “The Alliance and the Empire were to meet us there. J-Just like old times, huh...?”
There’s no fond nostalgia in his voice now, only pain.
#dreamknighted#dreamknighted 01#secondhand embarrassment is something i think felix is going to be suffering through a lot living with ashe#and i am sorry for that in advance#fe3h spoilers/////#i'm not sure if this is enough to count as anything particularly spoilery but i'm being Careful
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devilbane:
His happiness is, of course, shared– in fact, the display borders on infectious. Byleth finally does smile, soft and a little weary, resting a second hand over the space where theirs have now connected. Talking seems to come much easier accompanied with the contact. “Worrying over me, hm? It’s my job to worry over you.”
Is, was. Semantics. Either way, he reclaims his free hand, now using it to preen at Ashe’s face. A thumb presses gently into his cheek, then tips his chin just slightly, as if appraising him. “No injuries?”
“Of course I worry about you. It’s only natural to worry when you care about someone, isn’t it?”
He laughs quietly but complies with the hand poking and inspecting, not resisting Byleth’s appraisals, though the attention does bring a little colour to his cheeks. Being fussed over like this, even in Byleth’s somewhat stoic way, was something he never quite adjusted to completely. Something about having that sort of attention on him made him squirm, but not in necessarily a bad way. He appreciates the concern for his well-being.
“No injuries,” he reassures, and such will hold up upon inspection. No new injuries, at least. His stay here has been uneventful and peaceful overall. That’s another thing he hasn’t adjusted to yet, much as he’d like to. “How about you? You’re okay, too, right?”
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“Is there someone you like?”
questions to be sent anonymously ( or not )
He freezes midway through raising the teacup to his lips, eyes wide like a deer in the proverbial headlights. It’s a good thing Byleth didn’t ask a moment later or he may have risked choking on his tea. The question has certainly caught him by surprise, and it doesn’t take someone who has known him as long as Byleth has to see it. Without even speaking, the look on his face likely makes the truth plain as day.
“P-Professor, please! What kind of question is that…?” he responds, hastily putting his cup back down so he can fix his former teacher with a look of mild abash. He doesn’t particularly want to answer this for a variety of reasons. Maybe Byleth will let him off the hook if he dances around the topic elegantly enough, but that sort of thing has never been Ashe’s strong suit and Byleth can probably read him regardless.
“... There might be,” he sighs, relenting. It’s not like he has to say who it is, at least, and he prays Byleth won’t ask. “Please don’t tell me it’s been obvious.”
He’s not sure his heart can take it if he’s been transparent enough about it for people to take notice. It’s supposed to be a secret!
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