Hello, this is Kroissant!
So, this has been a recurring dream of mine lately and I thought it'd be best to write it down. This is quite similar to what I've done in the past (ex: Father and Son) but to those who are new, prepare to read and weep. My previous fanfic, Happy Grace, was all sunshine and rainbows. This one is quite heavy with depictions of violence and requires a lot of tissues.
In the previous fanfic I've written, I've hinted who would be the next one I'll be writing. And as implied from the summary, it's our precious cinnamon roll, Ashe from the House of the Blue Lions!
Everything you would be reading from then on is heavily incorporated from every information of the gameplay and from my personal depictions of the characters.
Once again, I would like to dedicate this fanfiction to letters-from-the-three-houses, bae-leth, and withlove-so from tumblr to thank them for inspiring me once again for the many headcanons of Ashe and the interactions among the Blue Lions. In addition to this, I would also like to express my gratitude for the author-WillowBlueJay17 for 'Since Sticks were Swords' as my main inspiration and fellow supporter for the Blue Lions! (keep up the good work, sweetie!)
That's all for now!
Have a happy reading!
(Warning: graphic violence, display of profanity)
CHAPTER I – DENIAL
Everything felt shallow, worthless.
Empty.
Collapsing on his bed, the scrawny silver-haired boy closed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as his hands unconsciously shaped into clenched fists.
Earlier this morning, he and the other members of the Blue Lions were assigned to eliminate a large rebellion not too far away from Garreg Mach Monastery, and under the direct orders of the Church of Seiros, they became the chosen House to quell the uprising. What was supposed to be a peaceful intervention immediately transitioned to one of conflict—and to make matters worse, the one leading the charge was Lord Lonato, his adopted father.
Reopening his eyes, Ashe sprang upright, hastily bringing his hands close to his chest as he struggled to breathe, flinching every now and then as he struggled to ward off the horrid experience which he pushed away in the back of his mind. The disgusting taste of metal was growing pungent, scaring him to the core.
Quickly, Ashe shook his head, groaning loudly as he demanded the painful memories to recede.
No matter how much he fought to regain his control, his memories reigned supreme and before he knew it, was instantly whisked away back to the battlefield—reliving the very same trauma for the umpteenth time…
Everywhere Ashe looked, there was no escape.
Many deaths of soldiers and commoners from both sides, the ear-piercing shrieks and cries intermingling with the sharp clashes of metal against metal, and the brash galloping of the valiant horses only to be shortly disposed of or incinerated by fire magic from a long distance.
At that moment, Ashe's mind went blank.
He loosened his grip on the nock as he lowered his bow a little downward, using his other hand to nurse his throbbing headache. Tears spilled freely down his rosy cheeks as he attempted to register what was occurring and yet couldn't seem to care less of what happened to him.
And then he heard it—a scream.
Eyes widening, the poor boy slowly turned his head to the direction of the voice. He watched as his adopted father, Lord Lonato, staggered backward, gasping helplessly as his hand desperately clutched on the fresh wound embedding on his armored chest. The moment he saw a glimpse of crimson red, Ashe fought his fatigue and without thinking, dashed toward him with the battlefield becoming nothing more than a blur to him.
Ashe pressed forward, though stumbled halfway as he nearly got trampled by a passing horse. He blinked, quite surprised and motioned his head, sighing in relief as he discovered his good friend Dedue who suddenly appeared in his field of vision, pushing him back as he shielded them from the enemy's attack.
"Ashe, run!" His friend cried, thrusting his lance high to counter. "GET OUT OF HERE!"
Unfortunately, the boy didn't listen nor responded as his eyes were trained in on his father who could barely stand on his own two feet. Wasting no time, Ashe ran faster with all his might, chewing harshly on his bottom lip. He forced his legs to keep moving, ignoring the burning sensation coursing through his skin as he chose to dismiss the warning shouts from Dedue as he was left alone to deal with more soldiers coming his way.
Ashe was almost there, dashing as fast as he could, gasping loudly as he managed to get closer. He watched as Lord Lonato sank to his knees, heaving breathlessly as he forced himself to lift his chin. His eyes slightly widened upon recognizing his son, though recovered back to a certain degree. Locking eyes with the approaching archer, all he could do was muster a sorrowful smile.
"I'm sorry," He mouthed, and held his head high, closing his eyes to the world that he knew.
More tears flowed down as Ashe stopped midway in his tracks, reaching out his hand in desperation. He opened his mouth to say something, anything…but what did escape from his throat was minor hiccupping. "Father…" He wanted to say aloud, "Father, please! Stay with me!"
As Ashe forcedly opened his mouth to speak, it was already too late.
A sword sliced across his neck, perfectly decapitating the elderly man.
Ashe stopped breathing as he found himself growing dizzy and falling to the ground as he helplessly watched his father's head roll freely across the earth, the lustrous glow of his kind eyes slowly waning, along with a trickle of blood oozing from his mouth.
Everything around him was oppressively silent, swallowing his scream as he pounded his fists on the ground in distraught. Slowly, Ashe began to feel a bit light-headed, his vision becoming hazy and his face perspiring. Forced himself to gather what was left of his energy, Ashe raised his head to take a moment to look at the perpetrator dead in the eye.
His heart broke into pieces the second he discovered their identity.
He couldn't believe it.
"No…"
From the corner of his eye, he took notice of their sword—which was roughly yanked away from the dead body of his beloved father, a sword made primarily of dragon bones with its silver tongue constantly dripping with freshly coated blood—a dead giveaway to the identity of the perpetrator.
Knock!
Knock!
Reverting back to reality, Ashe flinched from his spot. He quickly glanced around the area and when it became clear to him that he was inside his own room, he released a sigh, long and heavy.
"It was just a dream…"
Once again, he heard a series of knocking.
"…Ashe?" A soft, melodious voice came from the outside, "It's me, Annette. May I come in?"
He turned to the direction of where the voice was coming from and upon sighting the door creaking half-way open, revealing the short, orange-haired girl, he flashed her a friendly grin. He gave her an eager nod, ushering her to come inside. "Thanks for dropping by,"
Annette mirrored his smile as she proceeded to enter the room, carefully holding tight onto the silver tray which she held with both her hands. "I saw that you left the Mess Hall in a hurry," She began, placing the tray on the nearby coffee table and seating herself on the empty space next to him. "Thanks to Raphael, who was in charge of preparing the food, I was able to get an extra portion of creamed chowder, a second batch of peach pudding and some oranges,"
Ashe glimpsed at the silver tray where there was an abundance of servings displayed for him to marvel, which also included a small, ceramic empty teacup and a teapot. The corners of his lips produced a tiny grin as a warm sensation overwhelmed him. "Thanks a bunch, Annette,"
The short girl beamed. "Anytime!" She replied, followed by a light giggle. "I recommend you eat right now or it's going to get cold,"
Ashe sheepishly grinned, "I know," He never realized how famished he was, but as he leaned forward to reach for a silver utensil, he stopped.
"Ashe?"
He recoiled back, scratching the back of his neck as he flashed her a sheepish grin. "Maybe I'll eat later…"
Annette tilted her head in confusion. "Everything okay?"
When she didn't receive a response, she puffed her cheeks. She proceeded to call out his name, startling him.
Ashe blinked, quickly whirling his head to face her again. "Oh, umm…yes?"
Annette rolled her eyes. "Come on, Ashe!" She pouted, playfully nudging him on the shoulder. "You can tell me anything,"
All the boy could do was shake his head in dismay, allowing another smile to spread across his lips.
Ever since he attended the Monastery, and entered the Blue Lions, it was Annette who was quick to befriend him—taking the title as his first friend; it was thanks to her and her amicable nature, he was able to bond and grow close with the other members, especially with the diligent retainer, Dedue, and the flirtatious Sylvain, whom he both took up the roles as his best friends and big brother figures.
Aside from her friendship with Mercedes, Annette always made sure to spend her free time with him, and over time, the two of them became inseparable, their dynamic as close to siblings and becoming renowned to create mayhem wherever they go.
No doubt there was a strong sense of trust between them, and he knew that if there was anything that bothered him or if he simply wanted someone to listen to his troubles, Annette was definitely the first candidate on the list.
And yet, for some reason, something was holding him back.
If he were to tell her what he truly felt, what would she say?
Lowering his gaze, Ashe squirmed in his seat as he fiddled with his fingers. He might as well try and see for himself…
Annette silently observed him, planting her hand on his shoulder blade comfortingly. "I'm listening,"
Ashe snuck a glance at her, inhaled a deep breath and finally spoke up, his voice remaining soft, "I don't feel safe as I used to,"
"What do you mean?" Annette pressed on, narrowing her eyes.
Clearing his throat, Ashe continued with, "You, Mercedes, Sylvain, Dedue and the rest of the Blue Lions," Ashe began, pausing every now and then as he fumbled over his words. "All of you are a part of a greater circle—from noble and royal descent. Mercedes may be a commoner, but she's always going to have that aristocratic background, you know? And Dedue…he's loyal to Lord Dimitri, and has taken the title as his retainer…" He hung his head, his eyes downcast as he uttered the next few words, "And then there's me, a dirty commoner…with nothing else but a name and the clothes on his back,"
Listening to his words, Annette opened her mouth to protest but got interrupted by Ashe as he went on with his rambling.
He looked down at his hands, fixing his lips into a straight line. "I had something, or someone—Lord Lonato, my adopted father…and if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be where I am now, with you and everyone,"
A memory resurfaced from the back of his mind, of him in his youthful years, together with his late father as they both admired the view of Garreg Mach Monastery, and recalling how later that night, he vowed to his father that he would do whatever he can to get accepted into the prestigious Officer's Academy. He remembered the late night studying, training, and making an effort to simply do his best and when the day arrived—of him receiving the official letter of acceptance, he remembered how much he screamed out the window as he jumped for joy, to the point of how he managed to get one of his neighbors to curse at him.
Even so, none of their responses matter except for one—and he would never forget the sheer excitement he had when he presented the letter to him, how Lord Lonato glowed like the sun and tackled him into a tight embrace when he read the news. That following day, the two of them returned to the same spot and admired the Monastery from a far distance, and once again, Ashe made a personal promise to himself—that he'd do whatever he can to study diligently, become one of the top students, graduate with flying colors and in time, shower his father with the various accomplishments he did on his own—going headfirst into the battlefield and saving the lives of the innocent, his name being heard far and wide…
Such a dream was impossible, and yet, Ashe knew that he could do it. Making his father pleased, see him smile as he proudly called him, 'my son'—that was all that mattered to him.
But the universe had other plans in store—and before he could blink, it had already happened. The raid came and took his father away from him, shattering his dream like it was nothing.
Tears flowed down his cheeks as the emotions became too much for him to handle.
Seeing this, Annette released her hand from his shoulder to place them on top of his, squeezing them fiercely. Though her presence alone somewhat helped him calmed down, it didn't seem to subside the unspeakable rage sprouting inside of him.
"He was everything to me…" Ashe murmured, stopping halfway to wipe away the tears from his red, puffy eyes with the back of his arm. "He was…the person who I wanted to be, my role model, my father…all I wanted was to repay his kindness but…" He drew in a sharp breath, clenching and unclenching his fists on his lap, "But now, he's gone…and he's never coming back,"
Finally, he turned to face his friend who stared back at him with a contorted expression. "I got into the Blue Lions because of Lord Lonato, and now that he's not here, I just…" He hiccupped. "I don't think I can stay any longer with everyone here…I had everything when I had Lord Lonato, and now, I have nothing…" Shaking his head, he emitted a forceful laugh, an empty laugh. "And if you keep me with you all, who knows what might happen to the House's reputation…"
"Ashe, don't think like that!" Annette consoled him, "We could never abandon you! No matter what anyone says, the Blue Lions will always accept you! Mercie, Ingrid, Sylvain, Dedue, 'Prickly Felix', Lord Dimitri and even Professor Byleth— "
At the mention of their instructor's name, Ashe felt his heart beginning to ache.
"I…"
The memory of his late father, along with a tall, dark shadow wielding a blade made out of dragon bone resurfaced, causing him to quake violently. Swiping his hand away from hers, he wrapped his arms around himself, his eyes gradually lengthening in size as a cold chill ran down his spine.
"Ashe? Are you alright?" Annette exclaimed, but he ignored her.
The poor boy's face was perspiring; he was looking pale and weak…
"Ashe, can you hear me?"
Ashe was alone, all by himself in the darkness and there was no escape. Despite sitting close to each other, he failed to listen to his friend's worried cries, oblivious to her distinctly, wounded expression.
"Ashe, say something!"
Slowly, the boy turned his head and to his horror, dear sweet Annette was immediately replaced by the unwelcoming appearance of his Lord Lonato's murderer—of Byleth who stared back at him with a malicious smirk, and with the whip of her left arm, raised her respective weapon until the sharp point was dangerously close to his shaky throat.
He blinked his eyes multiple times, completely distraught.
In a split second, there was Annette and then Professor Byleth, then Annette, then Byleth, and the cycle repeated. Clenching his sweaty hands together, he secretly prayed to himself, hoping—no, yearning for his friend's radiant face to materialize and comfort him just like before. But his wishes couldn't be reached, and all he could do was watch helplessly as orange collided against dark green in a grotesque-like conflict, fighting to regain his control. And as expected, the darker color dominated, crushing the last bit of hope he had left and swallowed him whole.
"ASHE!"
Byleth and her influence were growing…with her hand gripped on the pommel of her sword, was ready to finish him off with a final blow. Panting heavily, and his heart pounding thunderously, Ashe quickly got up on his feet.
As expected, the shadow of Byleth rose as well, triggering him to panic.
"STAY AWAY!" He exclaimed, frantically throwing his arms in front of her. "STOP!" And he shoved her with all his might, unknowingly pushing her toward the direction of the coffee table.
There was a high-pitched scream, followed by a thundering crash, an echoing thump and glass breaking. Once the silence settled, an eerie ringing sound resonated. Ashe gasped for air, retreating backward until he felt the wall behind him, his ears still covered by his hands. He stared down at the mess he had caused, the shadow of Byleth long disappeared…and in its place, was…
"What have I done?"
The door burst open, revealing four of his housemates.
"What happened here?" Sylvain exclaimed as he quickly entered inside.
Another voice chimed, belonging to Ingrid. "Are the two of you alright?"
Mercedes was the next to arrive and as she walked in to voice out her concern, her eyes were immediately drawn to the mess on the other side of the room. She gasped aloud as she was quick to identify the small, unconscious figure lying on the ground, covered with piping, hot chowder, pudding, and tiny pieces of ceramic shards.
"ANN!" And dashed forward, along with Sylvain who was quick to assist her as they brushed away the debris surrounding her.
Mercedes sobbed as she carefully held her best friend's head close to her shoulder, cradling her as to how a mother would do to her child. She closed her eyes and began chanting a few words lowly under her breath, summoning a large white circle inscribed of ancient formula encircled around her and her best friend—it was a healing circle.
Another crisis erupted, this time in a form of Felix.
The moment he entered the scene, his ears picked up Mercede's sobbing, and as he turned to look at her direction, was startled to discover her healing an unconscious Annette who she gently rocked back and forth, with Sylvain carefully harvesting the remaining ceramic shards across her legs, revealing a trickle of blood flowing down to the carpeted flooring. Felix turned to his right, noticed his childhood friend, Ingrid who was currently trying to console with a guilt-struck Ashe.
Blood boiling, Felix rushed forward to hold of the boy's collar, despite Ingrid's protests to put him down and pinned him harshly against the wall. "THE FUCK'S WRONG WITH YOU?" He lashed out, "ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?"
"Felix, stop!" Ingrid cried from behind, tugging him forcedly back with all the strength she could muster. "Don't hurt him!"
Alas, her words couldn't reach him as his temper blew out of proportion.
Ashe gasped for breath, sobbing uncontrollably as he attempted to crawl his way from the swordsman's death grip on his collar, but to no avail.
Fitch pitched his eyebrows together, shaping his hand into a clenched fist but before he could deliver a blow on the latter, a strong force held him back, breaking his hold on Ashe who fell on the ground and coughed brashly.
"Get…off me!" Felix exclaimed, thrashing about as Dedue managed to hold him back, with Ingrid rushing to assist the poor boy.
"Ashe, are you okay?" Ingrid asked him worriedly as she searched for any fresh wounds on him.
Ashe didn't answer as he slowly raised his head a little higher, taking in the devastation around him. An unconscious Annette, a weeping Mercedes, a fuming Felix, with Dedue, Sylvain and Ingrid trying to fix everything back to the way it was before.
His shoulders sagged, the heavy load inside his chest was painful, and the tears that he wiped off were beginning to return.
"It's all my fault…" He managed to say, soft and surprised.
The clanking sound of armor and approaching footsteps drew their attention, causing every single person to go on high-alert (excluding Felix who was determined to give Ashe a piece of his mind) and to turn their attention to the door.
"Dimitri!"
"Milord!"
Ashe shifted his focus to the entrance, cowering in fear as he watched their house leader, Lord Dimitri strolled inside in silence, his expression etched with concern as he carefully inspected the cluttered mess and the presence of his housemates within the room. His eyes lingered on Mercedes who continuously wept as she attempted to heal Annette, overhearing one of his childhood friends, Sylvain who came over to the older woman, offering to take the poor girl to the infirmary room, then to his other childhood best friend who struggled to match the sheer strength of Dedue, until finally landing on Ingrid who comforted the shaking, silver-haired boy.
Without a word, Dimitri walked toward them and crouching to his knees, offered him a hand. "Are you alright, Ashe?"
Ashe blinked once, then twice. He lowered his head, chewing on his bottom lip. "I-I didn't mean to hurt Annette…" He muttered, loud enough for him to hear, his voice cracking as he hiccupped. "She was trying to help me and…"
Dimitri gave him a soft smile. "Come on, get up," He said gently to him, surprising the others.
Ashe sniffed, glanced at the hand for a moment before finally nodding, accepting it graciously. With the help of Dimitri and Ingrid, the boy was lifted from the ground and was patted on the back in assurance. He whirled his head to glance at his unconscious friend, his vision becoming glossy. He opened his mouth, only to find out that he had lost his voice.
"She'll be okay," Sylvain assured him, joining them with Mercedes trailing behind. Nestled in his arms was their unconscious friend, who was relieved of the ceramic shards, with a few gashes and scars adorning her face, arms, and hands.
Ashe's bottom lip quivered, sniffling as he proceeded to wipe away the flowing tears.
While Dimitri went on to lecture Felix who was still riled up and held back by his retainer, another voice erupted—and this time, Ashe stood frozen still.
"I heard noises from outside. Is everyone okay?"
From the shadows spawning across the carpeted flooring, Ashe was quick to notice the outline of the oversized jacket, the heels of boots, and then the sword made of dragon bones…
All of a sudden, he couldn't breathe properly. His heart hammered, nausea clawing at his throat. He needed to get out of here. Now.
"Ashe? Are you okay?" Ingrid expressed worriedly.
His face, white and dripping with sweat and tears, he clenched his teeth. Releasing himself from her hold, he sped out from the room, nearly pushing Byleth out of his way who stood close to the door before rushing off into the great halls.
"ASHE!"
"COME BACK!"
Ashe disregarded the unanimous cries and shouts of his housemates and Professor who kept calling out his name and pleading him to come back—none of them reached him as he kept sprinting, far away and from their sight.
Thank you for reading the first chapter!
This was heavily inspired by Ashe's background which happened to involve his adopted father, Lord Lonato (not confirmed if he's dead in the actual game but this is my own interpretation of it) and as for his death, it was inspired by Game of Thrones.
As mentioned before, the next chapter would be updated shortly tomorrow.
Please leave any kudos/comments if you'd like!
Thank you so much for reading and have a wonderful day!