Summary: "Self-sufficient" (def.): able to supply one's own or its own needs without external assistance. Laurent can take care of himself, with or without his parents.
Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem.
At age ten, Laurent is left home alone for the first time.
"You should know how to take care of yourself for the most part," Miriel says, adjusting her glasses. "I made you lunch. It's on the kitchen table. I won't be gone long."
And then she leaves.
His mother is right. He can take care of himself. For the most part.
He may not be able to cook, but he can tie his shoes when they come undone, and he knows enough to use a stool when he can't reach a book when he reads in the library, just like his mother taught him. Then he eats his lunch and cleans up after himself, just like his mother taught him.
Soon enough, she returns with his father.
"Hey, squirt! Teach heard you stayed home all by yourself!" Vaike ruffles his hair. "You're so grown up now! I'm so proud!" "As am I," the corners of his mothers' mouth curve upwards. "You're very self-sufficient, Laurent."
After he turns fourteen, his mother and father leaves him home alone for longer periods of time, sometimes for days, and more frequently.
He can take care of himself. He's older now, old enough to understand it's for a good reason; the Risen have appeared again and King Chrom requested that his parents directly help him fight them. Besides, he's not lonely. For the most part.
He's taller than he was when he was ten, so he doesn't need the stool to reach the books in the library when he wants to read. He can even cook dinner for himself; his mother had taught him a year ago.
Tonight, they come home late, walking through the door slightly disheveled and worn. They sit down at the kitchen table and offer him weary smiles. Laurent hands them both the cups of tea he prepared earlier waiting for them to come home. It's midnight, but neither of them chide him for staying up so late.
"Thanks, squirt!" It's comforting to him that even though they are both so tired, his father is still capable of giving a hearty laugh.
His mother looks at the kitchen counter tops, noticing the sleek shine. "I see you've cleaned. Impressive. You're very self-sufficient."
"Thank you, mother." Laurent answers.
She takes out a thick glossy tome out of her bag and puts it on the table. His father takes out a large box and places it next to the tome. "Go ahead," his mother nods, smiling. Laurent opens the box and his eyes widen with surprise. A cake.
"Happy fifteenth birthday, son."
Now, he is eighteen, almost an adult, and a messenger stands at the doorway informing him his parents will never come home again.
"They were sent look for two other former Shepherds who went missing two days ago. There were no bodies left behind, just this." The man holds out his hand, his mothers' wedding ring in his palm. "My condolences, sir."
"This cannot be," Laurent finally says.
"I'm sorry, but it's true." The man responds, shuffling a little.
"You said that there were no bodies, correct?" Laurent doesn't give the messenger time to answer. "Then it cannot be proven true. My mother and father can't be dead."
The messenger grabs his hand and puts the ring in it. "Look, I'm sorry," he says. "I really am, but they're gone. And I have to go myself. Good day, sir."
He turns and walks away. Laurent closes the door and sits down at the kitchen table, clutching the ring tightly in his hand. He longed for his mothers' smile and praise. He longed for his fathers' cheerful laugh. It's alright,he tells himself over and over again, I'm self-sufficient. I can take care of myself.