Severa scuffed the ground with her boot. It was awfully weird to be on her own. With no horrible future to prevent, she felt purposeless. All her comrades had gone separate ways – some of them in couples, others in threes – but Severa was alone. She should have been happy! No more fell dragon, no more bloody battles. And yet, Severa was not even close to being happy.
When the dust settled and Grima was eliminated, Severa and her friends were finally free to explore the world they'd lost. She wasn't going to stay home with her perfect mother. Besides…her real mother and father were dead. Those she would call parents in this world were starting a new family. Severa didn't want to burden them any more.
"You're always welcome, dear." Mother, no – Cordelia – reminded her.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Severa replied.
"You don't want me around," Severa muttered under her breath. Nobody does, she thought bitterly. Not even her friends. She couldn't blame them, really. Severa knew she was hard to be around at times. Who wasn't? She supposed she was hard to be around most of the time, then.
"I'm too self-absorbed. Is that it? I'm too judgmental, too snarky. Everything my mother isn't." Severa's jaw clenched tight. The circumstances she'd been in had taught her that opening up hurt more than having people avoid her. Losing someone close was too much for her to bear. She'd built impeccable personal defenses over the years. Severa had believed that her comrades understood at least that much. They all had their ways of coping with what their destiny threw at them.
But even with her walls of snark and vanity, Severa couldn't help but love each and every one of her friends. Yeah, she loved them all. It hurt her so badly whenever they wrote her feelings off as superficial, like she wasn't capable of feeling anything deeper than flights of fancy. Obviously her friends did not extend their silent understanding to her.
She loved Lucina for her bravery – leading the bunch of them through hell and back wasn't easy, but she did it. Lucina was a worthy heir to the halidom. She was strong and responsible; everyone trusted her.
Severa loved Laurent because he was fascinating. He was the most rational person Severa knew. Laurent kept calm under the most intense circumstances and always provided an alternative plan of action.
She loved Gerome's loyalty. He never said much, but he was honest. Even though they'd had their differences, Severa admired Gerome's maturity.
Yarne was a coward for sure, but he would protect his friends in the end. His ability to overcome his fears was incredible.
Noire had blossomed into a more confident person. Severa no longer needed to accompany her everywhere for protection. It made her proud and sad; proud because her friend had developed so much, and sad because it seemed as if Severa's role in her life was over.
Severa never showed it, but she did care for Inigo. He could be stupid, but he knew how to make people smile. They fought – almost every day – but Severa couldn't stay angry with him for long.
Cynthia was like a little sister to Severa. They fought and made up as sisters do. They shared secrets and dreams and nightmares. Cynthia managed to be optimistic in the face of utter destruction. Severa never expected their bond to be so weak in the end.
Owain was annoying, but his passion for theatrics and legends was undeniable. Severa often teased him for his histrionic tendencies, but she respected his ability to be himself in front of others even if he was made fun of. She'd never been able to be herself except when she was alone, berating herself for all the mistakes she'd made in a day.
Brady was Severa's confidant. He was misunderstood, just like her. They were honest with each other and Severa really appreciated that. Or maybe that bond was fake, too.
Nah was small, but she was mighty. Unlike Severa, Nah's bite matched her bark. Being half-manakete helped, but Nah never boasted more than what her skills could back up. She was bright and inquisitive.
Morgan was an odd one. The Morgan Severa knew and the one the Shepherds found without any recollection of who he was were hard to reconcile. Severa was uncomfortable bringing up old memories with him – it was useless and it dredged up past traumas. Still, Morgan's determination to make new memories filled with happiness was amazing. Severa envied that Morgan was given a clean slate. But she couldn't resent him for it.
And then there was Kjelle. Severa had never experienced romantic love until she and Kjelle began training together. At first, it was innocent enough; sparring and eating afterwards. But an unexplainable attraction pulled her closer to the other girl. Severa had allowed herself to be vulnerable when she was with Kjelle. And then she'd screwed it all up when she kept pushing Kjelle to be someone she wasn't. Her first love had withdrawn back into her gruff self, telling Severa to come back when she could respect others' differences. Severa still loved Kjelle, even though she knew she ought to move on.
It was so cold without her loved ones. Even with her warmest furs, Severa shivered. She felt unloved. That was it, she suspected. And it was all her fault.
Severa let out a humorless laugh. All those times her friends had said they'd be there, or that they treasured her… those were either empty promises or lies. Or were those one and the same? To make her feel included. To make sure she'd cooperate on the battlefield.
Maybe if she hadn't been so harsh, her friends would've meant those words. Severa laughed harder until she was crying. She loved her friends so much. But she'd never been able to articulate her feelings properly. And it was something she'd need to learn from.
There was a reason she loathed the romance stories her mother always read. The professions of unwavering love, the stalwart companions…it was an insult to the dedication Severa actually felt for her friends. In those stories, the hero's love never went unrequited – romantic or otherwise. In those stories, forgiveness meant everything was sunshine and rainbows. In those stories, the hero defeated the dragon and there was a happy ending for all the good people.
But for Severa, her love was unrequited. Forgiveness often meant no ill will – but things weren't always sunshine and rainbows and they definitely weren't forgotten. And even when the dragon was dead and gone, there was no happy ending for Severa.
Severa slumped against a tree, looking up at the gray winter sky. If only she'd said all the things she meant to say to her friends. Maybe they'd have stuck around. Maybe they wouldn't have looked at her funny when she offered her sincere compliments. Maybe Cynthia wouldn't have called her conceited or cast her as the villain of her games. Or perhaps Laurent wouldn't have called her selfish. If Severa had been more honest about her feelings, maybe everyone wouldn't automatically put her at fault for arguments between friends.
Severa wiped at her face before her tears could freeze. Of course her friends wouldn't see anything good in her. Severa couldn't see anything worthwhile in herself, either. But maybe she could learn from this.
That her love wasn't better off bottled up inside of her.
That her personal opinion wasn't necessary on every little thing.
That just because she was insecure about herself didn't mean she had to criticize others.
After a long while, Severa found it in her to smile. Feeling helpless wasn't going to solve her loneliness. Crying and pouting about how alone she felt wasn't a solution, either. No one was going show up out of the blue to cheer her up and tell her she was loved. That was the stuff of fairytales – and for people who were good to their friends. Severa used to make fun of Cynthia for wanting to play the hero – always trying to help others while she was tripping over herself.
Severa stood up straight, forcing her shivering legs to resume walking. Sure, no one was going to appear and get her through this agonizing period. But Severa made a decision: she was going to be her own hero. If she could get herself to change for the better, she'd be happy. Perhaps she had screwed up enough that her friends never wanted to associate with her again. She couldn't blame them. But Severa knew that sometimes, it required something jarring for someone to realize their mistakes. It was a high price to pay, but she knew it had to be done.
And so, Severa kept forging ahead along an unfamiliar path, all alone but not at all lonely. It was her own adventure and she was going to be the hero for once.
