To be completely fair, the situation Ingrid currently found herself in was one that was entirely of her own doing; she'd been the one to make each and every choice that led her to standing outside on a snowy Fhirdiad street in the early morning hours. She hadn't had to accept the invitation to the work holiday party—even though she'd been at the publishing company for years she still hated the job and didn't care for many of her coworkers, but the promise of free food had been too enticing to pass up. She hadn't needed to stay until the restaurant workers were escorting everyone outside to lock the doors—she'd long since collected all of the extra food she could get her hands on and had stored it in a plastic bag provided to her by a confused bartender, who'd been surprised to see a completely sober woman in professional dress come up to him and ask for the largest bag he could give. And she hadn't been drinking, so she should have known very well to check for everything before she was told to leave, instead of getting outside the quickly-locked doors and realizing she was missing one of her jackets, the one that she kept her wallet in.

Her keys were with her, as was her phone, and she'd made sure to keep that bag of expensive leftovers within her grasp, but her wallet was forcibly separated from her for the time being, and without it she was in a rather nasty bind. She didn't know her coworkers at all, despite holding the supposedly lofty title of "assistant scheduling manager" that would have meant she held some power in the company (she didn't, she checked calendars to make sure meetings weren't being double booked and that was her job). She didn't drive herself to the party, because she'd been able to take public transport to get over to the restaurant during daylight hours, but after two o'clock in the morning that wasn't an option and it was nearing three. If she'd wanted to call for a cab she wouldn't be able to pay, and that meant that she was either walking in the bitter cold and snow, or she was calling everyone in her phone hoping that someone would have the kindness in their heart to help her out.

The gloves she'd fished out of her heavy coat's pocket had grips on the fingertips to allow her to use her phone while wearing them, a gift from the goddess in the freezing cold that enveloped Fhirdiad in the wintertime. With one hand, as the other held her prized food tightly, she got to the screen on her phone that listed out her contacts in order of most-contacted, and from there she got started on calling everyone she could. First on the list was Annette, a sweet and kind soul that would definitely wake up from her sleep to help her out, but she had to pass over her name and not call her because she didn't want to invoke the wrath of the man sharing her bed. Sure, Felix would also drop everything to help an old friend, but at such an inconvenient hour he'd do nothing but gripe and grumble about doing it and the last thing Ingrid needed was his anger being added to her frustration. If only they hadn't just gotten married a couple months before, then everything would have been perfect for Ingrid to get her friend's help.

Next on the list was Sylvain, who wasn't attached to anyone (that she knew of, but who really ever knew with him), and could possibly still be awake of his own volition, so he was the first dialed number. In order to hear the line being picked up, Ingrid had to move her hood, her hat, and her earmuffs, exposing her head to the snow that was falling down from the low clouds above, and she knew that staying outside for too long would be at the expense of her well-being, so while she waited for him to answer she walked down the street in the vague direction of where she lived. The call went right to voicemail, which meant that Sylvain was awake and actively ignoring it, and with a huff that had her breath hanging in the air in front of her until she walked through it, Ingrid tried making the call again.

This time, it connected rather quickly, and the reverberations of loud music on Sylvain's end immediately clued her in to the fact that calling him might have been a bit of a mistake. "I'm out right now, what do you want from me?" he asked, having to yell to be heard over the music. "I'm not coming over to warm your bed with you if that's what you—"

Instead of answering the question of why she was calling in the first place, Ingrid ended the call and decided to just move on to who came next. Now it was Felix's number, which would be even worse than calling Annette and waking him up in the process, so she moved right on and lingered on Dimitri's number before passing over it as well. He'd be willing to help, certainly, but someone with such a lofty political position as he had would cause nothing but a media headache if he was seen out with her in the middle of the night, despite them having known each other since childhood. Following him was Mercedes, and she seemed like a safe enough bet to call that she did it without a moment's hesitation.

"W-who's calling?" an unfamiliar voice answered, catching Ingrid by surprise as she tried to figure out who was answering Mercedes' phone at nearly three in the morning, only to remember that it would have to be her girlfriend. "I'm warning you, if you're pranking Mercie, I'm going to report you to the authorities." The grave seriousness was something that couldn't be taken lightly, but Ingrid was so stunned at it that she wasn't sure how to react.

Thankfully Mercedes was able to get the phone before things escalated, apologizing for the harsh answer. "If we were in town I would be there in a flash to help you, but we're up in Garreg Mach for the holidays, Byleth's request, and that means there isn't much we can do from here, unfortunately." Her rejection was gentle, much nicer than her girlfriend's entire spiel had been, and after profusely giving her apologies for waking them up without realizing they'd be unavailable Ingrid was left staring at her contacts screen once more.

"Geez, you'd think that more people would be sympathetic to my problems," she grumbled, her teeth chattering as she realized that her tolerance for being out in such cold weather was beginning to wear thin. She needed to get a ride home, and fast, but as she continued going down the list and placing calls, she was getting less answers and more voicemails, everyone asleep with silenced phones on such a snowy evening.

She came up to a twenty-four hour convenience store and stepped inside, a tired and annoyed-looking clerk at the register barking for her to take her hood off while she was in the building. Making it look like she intended on buying something, Ingrid shuffled her way to the back of the store and browsed the shelves while she continued trying to get through to someone on the phone. People she'd known for years were ignoring her calls, not aware of the dangerous situation they were leaving her in by doing so, and she was growing worried for her own safety each time she had to try a new number.

When she called Dorothea, who she knew was in town solely because she'd been in contact with her off and on during her residency at one of the concert theaters in Fhirdiad, she was able to actually get an answer, a wide-awake and gracious ear to listen to the problem she'd caused for herself. "I left my wallet at the restaurant I was at for a work function and I can't get home without it, so do you think you could come pick me up and get me home?" she explained, twirling her finger around the half of the earmuffs still on her head. "I'd really appreciate it, from the bottom of my heart."

"Oh, Ingrid, I'd be honored to take you home," Dorothea replied, sending Ingrid's spirits flying high, only to bring them crashing down when she realized how formal that sounded for Dorothea to be saying. "The problem is, we just closed up for the night here at the theater, and we're going to an afterparty that may be lasting until the sunrise hour, and it's cast-only, so you'd have to wait wherever you are until I'm done."

"That doesn't sound like you're going to be taking me anywhere."

"It certainly doesn't, and I do feel quite bad for having to let you down like this. Have you tried asking anyone else?" To answer that question, Ingrid had to explain that she'd been trying ever since she'd realized what mistake she'd made, but somewhere in the middle of "I called Sylvain while he's out at a club" and "Mercedes' girlfriend threatened to kill me" she was hung up on, Dorothea deciding she had better things to do than to listen to the story.

The rejection did not do anything to help Ingrid's already souring mood, as she'd now fully accepted her fate in becoming a frozen person on the streets that night. There were still numbers she could try, but she knew that it was a futile process she was forcing herself through, and she'd be better off saving her phone charge for in the morning when she could try calling people again. The register clerk snapping at someone else to take off their hood caught her attention, as she knew that desperation was setting in and she needed to get home somehow, which meant that asking a complete stranger for a ride was on the table, but much to her surprise the person taking off their hood in the store's doorway was someone who was just a few names down on her contact list, someone whose number she had but who she never actually talked to.

Her feet carrying her through the store slowly, as to not slip on snow-slickened floors, she met with the other customer over by the snacks, his gloved hand reaching out for a bag of cookies that hung with a sale sticker. "Fancy seeing you here at this hour, Ashe," she greeted, hoping she wasn't coming on too strong as he jumped at the sound of her voice, before giving a breathy response that contained nothing more than her name and a hello. "What brings you out to this place on a night like this?"

"Oh, I just got off my shift at work," he told her, grabbing the cookies and looking at her with a shaky smile. "Doing guard work at a nightclub wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I looked into security positions, but it pays the bills. I haven't seen you here this late before, what brings you in?"

It was her opening to explain her plight, and Ashe was a perfect recipient to hearing about her struggles. With every slight embellishment she made (claiming she'd called hundreds of people was only a minor lie, she thought), she could see him growing worried and concerned for her well-being, his eyes checking her over. "And that's why I'm here," she finished, after making it sound like she'd been out on the streets for much, much longer than she actually had been. "So would you mind giving me a ride home, since you're already out and about?"

"I would if it were possible," he said after giving thought to her whole story. "But I live just down the street and am on my way home myself on foot, so there isn't much I can do to get you home right now."

She could feel herself deflating, the spirits that had risen at seeing Ashe coming crashing back down at his reason for rejecting her. "That makes sense," Ingrid replied after trying to mask her complete disappointment. "I'll see what I can do to get myself home then, thanks for listening to me whine about it though. Appreciate it."

"H-hey wait, I wasn't finished talking to you!" Ashe blurted out as Ingrid began to walk back towards the door, turning to look at him with her eyebrows half-raised. "I may not be able to get you home at the moment, but I can offer you some space with me tonight. It isn't but a couple blocks from here, and I have some room if you'd like."

Knowing that her choice was effectively picking between sleeping on the street and sleeping in the home of someone she'd been friends with once upon a time, Ingrid was not going to make a mistake and walk away from a helping hand. "I think that's preferable to whatever would end up happening to me if I didn't go with you," she laughed, swinging the bag of food she was still carrying over her shoulder (and nearly knocking down a display shelf in the process). "I'll wait by the door for you to finish whatever you're doing, just to not cause any more of a hassle than I already have."

He seemed to hurry himself to keep her from waiting too much longer than she'd already been waiting to get done with her night. Once he'd paid for his snacks and they were both bundled back up to face the bitter cold they were on their way, Ashe leading Ingrid down the street a couple blocks, just like he'd told her he lived. His place was a rather sketchy-looking apartment in a building that had seen better days, a clear remnant of how poor certain areas of Fhirdiad were, and as they went up the flights of stairs Ingrid could feel the building creaking beneath them. All she could think about as they ascended was how different her life was in the richer part of the city, closer to the political center, and how she almost felt bad that someone with such a caring heart lived in such a bad place.

When they got to his apartment on the second-to-top floor, he unlocked the door and let her in before he came inside for himself. "It isn't much, but it's home," he introduced, locking every deadbolt and sliding lock on his door once they were inside. "You can take the bed tonight, I'll sleep on the couch to make you more comfortable while you're here. If anyone breaks in, which…goddess knows it might happen, the strangers break in for somewhere warm at least once a week, I'll be here to take care of them."

She grimaced at his brutal honesty, hating to hear about how he was accustomed to dealing with something so horrible. "It's fine, I'm fairly decent with handling ruffians," she told him, flexing an arm to brandish her personal weapon to his amusement. "But if you're really insistent on me getting your bed, I'll do it."

"Sleep deprivation's making you say strange things, Ingrid, go ahead and head on in. My clothes are in the bathroom, so you won't need to worry about me stepping in to change." He was even kind enough to take her (most likely rancid) leftovers and store them in the kitchen for her as she shuffled down to the single bedroom in the apartment. Just stepping through the door and entering the cramped room, where the bed took up almost all of the available space, Ingrid could feel her exhaustion taking over, but at the same time she couldn't shake her feelings of guilt for taking the offer as quickly as she had. Ashe was beyond generous to do something so kind for her without a moment's hesitation, and she needed to repay him somehow.

But repayment could come in the morning, she decided with a yawn, as she crawled into the firm bed and slid under blankets that were thinner than she'd expected at first glance. She was not going to be sleeping in the sort of luxury she experienced on a regular basis, but compared to being out on the snowy streets, she was thankful to have the bed. Outside the room she could vaguely hear Ashe roaming around, but soon enough he fell silent and she was able to drift off into sleep that she'd begun to fear would be coming on a snowy street-corner that she wasn't prepared to deal with. Her time spent asleep was rather short, because she wasn't fond of sleeping in no matter how long she'd been awake, but when she woke up and left the room she found that Ashe was awake as well, the running water in the shower letting her know where, exactly, he was.

"It'd be rude if I left without letting him know I was going," she admitted, looking at the multiple locks still latched on the door from overnight. "Don't want him thinking I ran out without wanting to thank him."

And boy did she want to thank him, for showing her kindness when she needed it most, so she held off on calling over to the restaurant to get her belongings back until he was out in the living space, freshly dressed and surprised to see her awake. Her thanks were genuine, him accepting them with reddened cheeks and a smile that let her know that he was deeply accepting them, and when she alluded to needing to walk back over to where her things were he jumped quickly to offering her a ride then too. "I have nothing planned for today, it's a day off from guarding the club," he told her when she began to try kicking up an argument against him once again going out of his way to help her. "If anything, it keeps you from getting frostbitten out there. I would never forgive myself if I was partially responsible for something like that happening to you."

"I suppose I can't argue with that reasoning." Ingrid's immediate repayment was to leave those ritzy leftovers there at the apartment, so that Ashe could enjoy them if they were still edible, but as he drove her first to the restaurant, then back to her place, she realized that wasn't good enough. This was a guy she'd known for a long time, with a heart of gold, that deserved so much more than what he currently had, and she was in a position, despite not liking where she was in life, that she could offer him better.

It wasn't thought out well in the slightest, but with the spirit of the holiday season hanging in the air between them as they rode together, Ingrid told Ashe exactly what was on her mind as a form of giving back to him for what he'd done. By the time she'd finished verbalizing her idea of letting him live with her (she had a spare room that she'd always thought about renting out) and to help him get a better job if he wanted her to, he was speechless and barely able to focus on driving on the snow-covered roads; his response that came as they pulled up in front of her place was a meek one, telling her he'd consider the offer and thanking her for putting it out there.

While it wasn't something that came to fruition right then, Ingrid was able to feel good about her mistake being crafted into a gift for an old friend, and she made sure that the next time she needed someone to talk to—not even anything in specific, just an ear to listen to her—she reached out to Ashe before any friend who might put other things before being there. As long as he wasn't asleep or working, he was there for her, and really, most days that was all she needed, especially when she'd prioritize food over something important and need a helping hand to swoop in to save her again and again.


A/N: I wanted to write something happy for this holiday season, and who better to do it with than Ingrid, whomst I love very, very much?

lyrical inspiration from halsey.