I'm back. Thank you to those who read, and moreso to those who left a review to this story! I haven't been playing Three Houses as of late as I craved the stupid banters of the chocobros of Final Fantasy XV and have been grinding in Monster Hunter World Iceborne so most of my stories will be concentrating on either Silver Snow or Crimson Flower. But for continuity's sake, I will post all Silver Snow stories first, then move on to Crimson Flower. Thank you for enjoying the stories!

Also, everyone might have noticed that I don't have Dad!Alois. I didn't recruit him because, well, he looked lackluster to me. So Seteth is the 'Team Dad' character in all of my stories, where he is applicable.

Silver Snow Pairings I made during playthrough: BylethxAshe, CasparxPetra, SylvainxDorothea, CyrilxLysithea, FelixxLeonie, LinFlayn

Extra-house characters I recruited on Silver Snow: Lysithea, Leonie, Mercedes, Sylvain, Felix


Preoccupation (Silver Snow)

It has been five weeks since Ashe reunited with Byleth, and everyone quickly noticed a change in the woman's mood. For the better. Although, he gets to be the butt of jokes for her sake.

With Myrddin bridge successfully occupied, the Resistance Army prepares to storm the imperial capital Enbarr. However, Byleth called for a rest day, as there will be a lengthy march for the rest of the month, aside from fighting back the Imperial army. Everyone rejoiced at the news of the much needed rest. Boy, did they celebrate that same night.

Overzealous soldiers invited musicians over at the notice. Imperial ration and stock was transformed to their makeshift feast. The mess hall at Fortress Island also got whipped up by the frenzy. It's a huge cut from their spoils but morale has to be high. A small cost to pay.

Seteth quickly disapproved of the rowdiness in the mess hall, yet he did not tell things to stop. Instead he sat by the corner and was immediately offered a stein of beer. He eyed it, boredom in his eyes. Byleth noticed and approached.

"What's the natter, Seteth? Are we too loud for you?" she asked with a smile. Looking back at the clearing of the room, Dorothea and Sylvain were dancing a local folk tune. Energy, vivacious in motion, the stomps and taps in perfect synchronization, they caught all eyes on them. And they knew and they loved it. Their pair slowly grew as soldiers became uninhibited by the alcohol. Some danced with great skill, like Ferdinand and the two before him, while some just jumped in for the fun, like Caspar and Petra.

From the corner where she sat with Seteth, Byleth clapped to the tune of the music as a wide smile danced on her lips. She swayed to the beat.

Jeralt, know that your daughter has grown much, thought the green-haired man as he nursed his beer. But with all the festivities, he's surprised to see her just sitting in a corner. "Are you not going to join them?"

The woman shook her head no. "I do not know much of folk dances." She snorted. "In fact, I only learned ballroom dancing because I once had a job as a bodyguard."

"Ah, quite the insight to your mercenary life."

Just as silence was settling between the two amidst the lively music, Sylvain drops in, too giddy and happy. He pulls Byleth out of her seat to dance with the group.

"Let go of me, Sylvain!" It was no use as Sylvain effortlessly dragged her to the clearing, swung her in the sea of dancing people. The red-head disappeared in the movement of bodies and faces; Byleth found herself paralyzed wherever she was.

"Professor!"

She couldn't get out of the circle. Telling people to stop dancing was out of the question. She looked once more for a gap to get out. But the dancers proved to be united against her. Desperate, she called for the first person in her mind, "Ashe! Ashe!"

Gosh darn it, Byleth internally cursed. Of course, Ashe wouldn't be there; he isn't good at dancing. It was a mistake to call him. But the people began disentangling and she finally found a way out. Carefully she navigated the dance floor. Yet she was tugged to the side by a familiar face.

"Professor! Are you alright!?" His brows were furrowed in worry as his eyes looked her over.

"I-I am fine," now she remembered how alarmed her tone was before.

He sighed, relieved. "I thought you were in trouble."

"I was actually in trouble," Embarrassed, Byleth couldn't look him in the eye. Panic bit her while she was trapped, alone, in that circle of unfamiliar faces. Of all things that could send her into panic, it was this. She unconsciously tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear in her shyness, taking the attention of the young man in front of her. Ashe was enamored with her uncertainty and embarrassment, which, he admitted, he had never seen before. And he found it cute.

"You were in there?" Her ethereal eyes looked up at him, shocking him out of his ogling. Good thing he was already blushed with his earlier effort of saving the damsel in distress.

"I-I was!"

Byleth looked at the dancing again. "I thought you didn't know how to dance?"

"You remember that, huh?" He smiled fondly at her, forgetting for a moment where they were, preoccupied with the idea that she remembers him well, and he audaciously brushes away a lock of hair out of her eyes and tucks it behind her ear. He shocked himself. But her eyes gazed at him, call him presumptuous, lovingly, and he decided to play it off smoothly as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I had five years to learn. Besides, it's folk dance. You learn it as a kid during festivals." His heart was drumming in his chest and he could hear it thrumming in his ears. Nevertheless he offered his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

"I might step on you," Byleth smiled sheepishly. Yet she took his hand and they disappeared into the throng of dancing people.


"Bet you something will happen to them tonight," Sylvain smirked, proud of their Blue Lion baby. They could hear Byleth laughing heartily from the crowd, obviously enjoying herself.

Dorothea snorted, disgusted at Sylvain. "Not every man is like you, who jumps at every opportunity to sink his teeth into juicy meat."

"Now, now, milady. Snorting is unbecoming of you. But I believe that Ashe is a man through and through and Professor Byleth is unwittingly in love with him. I'm sure things are bound to happen!"

It was Seteth's turn to tell him off, "If you believe that Ashe is capable of doing such a thing then you are mistaken." Everyone agreed.

"Ooh ooh ooh, you think Ashe will propose to her tonight!?" Flayn was giddy by the idea, wishing such a thing would happen to her too.

"I doubt it," answered Caspar. "He told me he doesn't want the Professor to be distracted." Wide eyes stared at him. "What?" he answered back to their incredulous stares. "Besides, who wants to get married during war anyway?"

"So, you're saying…" Everyone connected the dots but Flayn was the one to shrill. "That they WILL be married EVENTUALLY!?"

Caspar did not understand the little girl's excitement. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, they have to be. The Professor doesn't look at anyone like that aside from Ashe. So stop hurrying them into something." He can't believe he's the one to say it. Surrendering to exhaustion, he raised his arms and walked back to his room, not before saying good night to Petra. "I'm out!"

Almost everyone decided to go back to their rooms, except for Sylvain of course. He smirked, a diabolical plan in his mind. He slunk past his mates and tapped the merchant musicians.

"Ooh, this is sooo exciting!" Flayn watched on as the music transitioned. From the energetic tune to slow and subtle, the music changed and so did the dancers. Away with the rowdy soldiers and came in the lovers. Byleth and Ashe noticed and figured it was time to go. For they were not lovers.

Shyly, "Wait. You said you had five years to practice. Then..." Her eyes begged as she curtsied with her coat tails. "Could you dance with me, my lord?"

For a moment, he saw his future life flash in front of his eyes. And each and every moment were with the woman in front of him. Ashe bowed, "Of course. Who am I to decline such a beautiful lady?" His voice shuddered; he had always wanted Byleth to hear it. Of how beautiful she is, how strong, how reliable… and how very much in love he is. But that would have to wait for another time. He gave out his hand and she took it. His other, reluctantly placed in the small of her back.

"Your hands are shaking."

"You don't have to say it out loud," answered Ashe with a crooked smile. Five long years he waited for her to come back. But to be asked to dance out of nowhere gave him the nerves. I've come this far. Might as well make the most of it, he thought. "May I… hold you closer?" He closed his eyes, somewhat waiting for her to leave or slap him. But it never happened.

At the words, Byleth's cheeks burned hot. She was about to tell him to but he went ahead and said it. "Yes. Please. I'd love to."


For once, Dorothea approved of Sylvain's actions. She clapped his back for a job well done. "Asking the musicians to change the music. I'll say!"

The redhead leaned in, "Well, I have to pay her back for setting us up after all." He pulled back and his sultry voice had the intended effect on Dorothea. A blush deep ran along her cheeks as she acted coy.

"I don't remember any of that."

"Mhm. What was it about 'Winning me over now' that you don't remember?"

"I don't remember being won over." Dorothea slyly bit back. She turned and left him where he stood.

"I love it when she's cold!"

He then looked back at the two, who now were the only dancers in the mess hall, even if there was no longer music. To them it played still in their hearts.

What started with a dance ended with a tight caress, as Ashe and Byleth continued to sway to an imaginary song. Her head was to his shoulder, eyes to the empty hall. She knew it was over but she didn't want to stop. But it has to. "Are you tired?"

"A bit, yes?" His hand reached up to pet her gently. "Are you?" She nodded yes, though he does not want to part yet, Ashe stepped away, unwrapping his arms. And so concludes their dance. "I'll walk you to your room."

They held hands, both having a spring to their steps. Over the moon they were, even with words left unsaid. They'd have to deal with it, some other time; focusing on fighting and war preparations is what they needed to do. And each respected that.

"Here you are, my lady."

There it is again; Byleth's chest tightened as if it would explode. It certainly was a foreign feeling but she ignored it, summing it up to excitement. Reluctant, she let go of him and immediately felt how cold it was without the warmth of his calloused hand. She opened the door and stepped in. But she doubled back,

"Ashe."

"Professor."

They were close yet again. Both could hear each other's hearts thumping in the silence of the night. Slowly, Byleth closed in to kiss him. But not enough courage sat in her heart. She kissed his cheek, chaste and quick. "Thank you." She looked over her shoulder one last time before going in and closing the door, as Ashe silently celebrated outside.

"I can't believe what just happened!" Her cold hands ran up to her face. It would be difficult to sleep tonight.


If the dance with his beloved Professor went well, his room accommodations didn't. There at his bed was Sylvain, snoring like a tired boar. Just when he finally felt the exhaustion sink in, he finds out he has nowhere to sleep. "I guess I'd have to sleep somewhere else."

He tried other rooms. Nothing. Sylvain's room was trashed. After he shed his coat, he grabbed a blanket and stalked back to the mess hall, thinking the benches would be good. Well, they weren't. He figured it'd be okay because he was used to not sleeping at all, if not getting a nap while sitting up. But he was wrong. It wasn't okay. His exhaustion was on another level. Perhaps, having his burdens lifted made him relax too much. Or he couldn't relax at all, because of ghosts. He sighed.

He knocked once. There was no answer. "Maybe she's asleep already." He groaned and backed away. "I shouldn't even have thought of this. I'm going back!" The door creaking made him jump.

"What are you doing here?" causing him to rub his nape.

"Sylvain invaded my room. He trashed his so…"

"You can sleep in my room," Byleth mindlessly answered. A few moments after, she rephrased, "I mean, there's a sofa here. Y-you can sleep there."

Sleep started to set in. "I promise on my honor that I won't do anything, aside from sleep. I swear."

"I trust you," then she beckoned him in and showed him to the sofa. He immediately sat down, unceremoniously removed his boots, yawned, then lied down to sleep. Byleth could only chuckle. "Would you need a blanket?"

Ashe raised the blanket he brought and Byleth tucked him in.

"Alright. Good night, Ashe," once more kissing him on the cheek.


Dreams of faraway memories fade into the light of morning as Ashe awoke from sleep. Groggy, nothing seemed to make sense of his surroundings; it didn't look like his room. Because it wasn't! He quickly shot up, "Pegasus crap!" surprising Byleth, making her drop her brush.

"Are you alright?"

"I-I-I- I I need to go!" Quickly he grabbed his blanket and boots to leave but Byleth stopped him from going.

"Are you really going outside looking like that?" then she looked at the mirror in her other hand, subsequently flashing it to him to show her point. Certainly enough, Ashe has a bedhead, not too different from his hair five years ago. And he was just about to leave barefoot and in such a state of undress. "At least wear your doublet and let me brush your hair."

Right. The sound of that is irresistible. But he shook his head fervently. "I really must go. I don't want others to be spreading rumors!"

"If you leave now, in a hurry, looking like that, you're more likely to spur gossipers. Why don't you wash your face first over there and I'll finish up with my hair?"

He did as he was told. Byleth always had impeccable insight, he pretty much had no choice. But for others to be gossiping about them… then he would have no option but to consummate it so as not to sully her, right? His own thoughts sickened him and he splashed himself with cold water. No use. He kept on thinking, imagining how he would propose. That was the plan anyway! Why are you having second-guesses now, me!? He mentally raved.

Turning around, a perfect moment presented itself. Byleth sat on the bedside, mirror raised, brushing her hair in fluid strokes. She swayed sideways, getting a feel of her hair. Dark teal hair and blue eyes suited her more, Ashe mused, wondering if those colors would ever come back. Not that it makes her any less pretty. She swung her mirror hand and the surface flashed with a bright, blinding, reflected light. When it settled, Ashe saw himself, staring at Byleth through the mirror. She stopped with her motion and gazed back with a smile. He was caught red-handed! Quickly, he averted his eyes in apology, "I did not mean to stare. I'm sorry."

Byleth chuckled. "I don't mind." It was a nice morning indeed. Done with herself, she then beckoned Ashe to the sofa, and began brushing his beautiful silver hair. His back was to her. And was he glad it was! His face was burning in embarrassment, giddiness! "T-that hand mirror of yours is well-made." Anything just to fill up the awkward feeling he had. Each and every time she stroked his hair with her fingers, it sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn't get enough of it, stoking a fire he never thought he had. Ashamed, he willed such thoughts away.

"It was a gift from my Dad. He did his utter best to teach me feminine stuff." She handed him the mirror. "At times it was funny since we couldn't get things right."

The mirror was raised. His hair was back to being neat again, making him look decent, and her smile was reminiscent of the time they spent at the Goddess Tower five years ago. Byleth moved closer to his shoulder, showing herself to the mirror, and that was when he saw that his ears were as red as a tomato. She knew he was blushing hard! Now he doesn't know if her smile was simply to tease him!

"So, who taught you to start brushing your hair?"

Goodness. He lowered the mirror and handed it back to her without turning. "My little sister. She nagged me to no end, saying 'You're going to be Lord Gaspard and you're going to show yourself as a slob!? Bless Lonato's soul!'" His shrill voice mimicry was top notch. "Before I knew it, got used to brushing my hair." There was an amused laughter behind him, "What's so—"

"Bless me…"

Byleth couldn't stop the urge. Her arms just wrapped themselves around his waist. She realized the impulsivity and quickly pulled back. "I…"

"I don't mind. At all." He sat there, waiting if she would do it again. But no. He finally turned and so a timid professor sat there beside him, her hands wringing on her lap, and she was red up to her bare legs. Bare legs. They look soft. Creamy. Hold up! What the hell, Ashe! Resolving to leave and leave things undamaged, he steeled his voice not to crack, "I think I should go. Thank you for letting me stay." He put on his boots and wore his doublet. But he did not find the strength to leave, and his fingers took their darn time to finally button everything. "If I may?"

Byleth jumped, "Oh, right! Yes! Please!" She was too preoccupied with her thoughts running rampant in her head. Never had she any experience of any sort when interacting with men under romantic pretenses, her own impulsiveness getting the best of her. She sighed. Perhaps Ashe found that... too forward... The sofa creaked and she raised her eyes. Just in time to see that dreamy look in his green eyes before he kissed her cheek. Her mouth fell open! And he closed it for her. Rough fingers brushing her chin pulled her back to reality.

Now Ashe was worried, "Was I—"

"No! No! It's fine! It's alright…" It would be too greedy to ask him to do it again. So Byleth stood up, pulling out her Professor Mode. "Let's go. And leave your blanket here. Just-just pick it up later."

"Why?" Although he doesn't mind returning to her room. In fact, he'd love to be back.

"You said you didn't want any rumors. Leaving that here would make it look like you just picked me up for breakfast." The only ones who were staying in the same hallway was Seteth and Flayn, two reasonable people. Nothing to worry about.

Right. Ashe nodded then chucked the blanket back to the sofa. He thought about it; he might need it again considering Sylvain. Wait. That guy doesn't like dirty spaces so how come his room was trashed? "Sylvain…"

"What about him," Byleth opened the door. Mind you, she skipped wearing her armor pieces and her stockings. Her legs were practically glimmering alabaster in sunlight. You could say Ashe drooled, setting him off as a legs-man for the rest of his life.

The moment they got out of her room, an excited redhead greeted them, "Hey there Professor! Oh," he was surprised. Fake of course. "Ashe! You're here! With Professor! In her room!" He raised his brows. Up. Down. Up. Down. And he smiled mischievously.

"I was picking her up for breakfast," Ashe hissed back.

"Would you look at that! We had the same idea!"

"Sure. Except you had to do that for at least three other women before ending up in Professor's door," ending the conversation.

Byleth waved goodbye at Sylvain as she walked beside Ashe. When the young man looked at her, his annoyance was visibly gone. Just unadulterated fondness washing over his features.

Sylvain crossed his arms, smug. "Mission complete!"


There you have it! Thank you for reading up to this point!

Have a nice weekend!