Of course. I... certainly do not know how to begin with this sort of thing. Suppose I'm just used to moving forward with no time to worry about what was, but what I can do to protect those who could yet be saved.
I have no such pressing matters here, and so here I am. Too much time to think. [AND FUCK.]
[ Byleth is quick to prepare a nice pot of tea and some of the snacks he knows Ashe enjoys, setting it all out for them, he sits down and takes a long sip from his own cup. ]
Now then... get comfortable. Enjoy. We can talk when you are certain you are ready.
[It is a little strange how this Byleth just seems to know all the things he enjoys to eat. Life truly was different for him, wasn't it? It's a bit hard to not be envious of this other Ashe, but that's okay. There is no changing what was.]
Mm, I can talk about it. I'm more concerned about you, truthfully.
Perhaps this is the perfect opportunity for you to look at some of those things and fully allow yourself to feel them. I know what it is like to be constantly pushed, never having the time to really address your own worries and troubles.
Eventually they add up until something breaks.
A very smart man told me that there is strength in allowing yourself to grieve for what has been lost. I have found this to be starkly true.
To dwell can bring about some complications. No time to mourn, no time to dwell, move on to the next crisis, serve save slay slave. It could mean overwhelming sadness that's enough to break his heart, or having to actually consider how certain things have hit him. His throat constricts, and ultimately he finds himself... just shrugging.]
I would not know where to begin. It feels like I've been fighting nonstop for years. Maybe I have been.
[For a moment, Ashe is quiet as he gathers his thoughts, hands folded together. He closes his eyes, thinking of what he can remember. Much of it is muddled before he arrived to Yharnam, and after that final battle.]
There isn't a good, detailed explanation for what a hunter is. You hunt beasts, that's all I was told. I didn't have much context for what that meant until I understood: Yharnam was afflicted with a plague, one that would transform people. The more you fall to bloodlust and lose control, then all the more likely you become one.
You were a hunter where I'm from, and one that did his best to mentor me. You worked with many others, and so many of them fell that night. Including Dimitri.
I told you once that you were always someone who chose love. And that's still true. You and Dedue both dedicated yourselves to him. Dedue let beasthood claim him so that he might protect Dimitri. You remained enough of a man to try to protect Dimitri, too.
...Unfortunately, that also meant you decided I was a threat. I tried every which way to talk you out of it, but each time I couldn't do anything. I died many times, trying to convince you, but... you were too far gone, and Dimitri was no longer a man either.
I guess I could take out Revolver and practice some new ideas I've had with her... Yeah we can do that. I don't want to hurt you though so nothing too bad okay?
I think probably the best thing would be to think about how you feel. It will probably take you some time to disentangle your emotions. Sometimes talking about it helps, or creating art of some kind.
You also must rely on the aid of your friends.
[ He gestures to himself, of course. ]
Helping makes me happy, so in allowing me to help, you are helping me. If that makes sense. Of course, not all at once but... it might help also, if you find a way to have a good cry.
I know it doesn't sound dignified but it's better out than in, you know?
Well surely not everything, but enough. I do believe however, if he had ill intent, he would have acted upon it by now. I also have the protection of Emet-Selch, Elidibus, and countless others.
I will be safe though, Zero. Thank you for looking after me.
Simply saying these things does not make it that much easier to know how to begin with it all. But I suppose I can focus on... I don't know, weaving. Hence the blanket and whatnot.
[He shrugs helplessly. It's not as if he doesn't know to rely on his friends. They are the core of his strength, but at the end of the day it is him who stands. Who must stand.
When has he last cried? Has he ever given himself that moment? Oh, he has felt grief, has gotten close, but the road goes on and on. When was there ever time?]
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