Author's Note: Hey, you guys remember that part of the Morality ending where Frederica and Serenoa got married and lived happily ever after and nothing bad happened ever? No? Okay, well, I'm pretty sure that happened.

Okay, serious time: Serenoa dying is literally the only reason why Frederica's ending isn't my favorite of the three "default" routes. And, you know, we have two other characters who can fall into a body of water and survive, so why can't the same thing happen here? Of course, this will play out a tiny bit differently than those examples did, but...let me have this.

Chapter One: The Discovery

The past two days had provided a difficult march (for more than one reason), but Frederica kept her eyes forward and her feet moving.

She had to. Her people needed her, after all. They were looking for Centralia, and they would find it. Frederica was sure of that; how could she not be?

She'd freed them from the Source. Everyone had gotten past the Great Falls at the edge of the Falkes demesne. They were out of Norzelia. Honestly, they had much to be grateful for.

Really, Frederica would be lying if she said she was unhappy about that. She had been completely successful in her plan so far. There was nothing that could stop her from finishing it now.

There were certainly some things that could slow her down, though. The climb down from the Falls had been steep and treacherous, and they were in uncharted territory. They'd been successful enough at following the river, but the "trail"—if they could call it that—was muddy and rocky in most places. The older Rosellans especially had difficulty sometimes; they were frail both from age and decades of hard labor. But they'd pushed on through; everyone was too determined to quit now.

However…Frederica would also be lying if she said she was over the loss of Serenoa.

She'd accepted it, true. Frederica knew, deep down, that she couldn't let it stop her. Not when they'd done so much already. Serenoa said he had no regrets, and she was sure he still felt that way, even when he'd sacrificed himself to save them. It would be disrespectful to him, too, to let herself mourn too much.

So she'd picked herself up and kept walking—but there was still a dull ache in her chest.

The march had mostly been quiet, which was both a blessing and a curse. Frederica didn't have to vocalize her complicated thoughts this way, but it was also easier to stew. On the other hand, she could listen to the occasional amazed remark from the freed Rosellans, and that brought a smile to her face.

"The air is so fresh out here, isn't it?"

"The breeze feels wonderful! And the sky is so blue!"

"I never thought we'd get to see so many trees…"

Frederica nodded from her position near the front of the group. It seemed like such a mundane list, but when they'd had so little for so long, it was easy to see how they'd appreciate it so much. Even the Rosellans from Wolffort territory had mostly been limited to staying in their village, so she was sure they enjoyed the chance to see something different, too.

She glanced around at the group. Geela was nearby her, giving her looks that were equal parts concerned and encouraging. Frederica quickly forced a smile before her eyes moved on. Roland wasn't really looking at anything, and he was keeping his face tilted down slightly. He likely didn't want anyone to see that he'd been crying. Still, Hughette had tentatively reached for his hand about half an hour ago, and he was letting her hold it—the awkward yet genuine display brought a bigger grin to her face.

Erador, too, had taken Serenoa's sacrifice hard, and he was doing less to hide it. Then again, he'd always been pretty open with his feelings. Frederica both pitied him for the tears on his face and felt encouraged by them (as selfish as it made her feel). When everyone else kept marching despite their pain, it was easier for her to keep going, too.

Jerrom wasn't too far from her, either. He'd kept his eyes very firmly on the path ahead, and his sharp gaze had prevented everyone from stumbling into the riskiest areas. Frederica recalled Anna mentioning once that the Wolffort Rosellans were skilled hunters and gatherers—perhaps Jerrom's instincts were coming in handy now. Spending days at a time out in the woods must've taught him how to spot treacherous footing and keep out of danger.

So she trusted his judgment when Jerrom paused, narrowed his eyes, and focused his attention on a dark shape she couldn't quite identify.

"There's something on the riverbank ahead of us," he murmured. "It could be some kind of animal, but…"

They'd passed several patches of trees, and there had been a few wild creatures peeking out from between the branches and trunks. Still, hardly anything had actively crossed their path so far. Frederica stopped walking, and the entire group slowed down, seemingly aware that something was happening. Jerrom took a few careful steps forward, avoiding a slick patch of mud up ahead.

"It couldn't be a person, could it?" Frederica asked uncertainly. "We'd have noticed if one of our own had slipped into the river."

"And at this point, I doubt there's anyone left to follow us," Geela mused, practical as ever.

They would've seen any Hyzantian soldiers by now, Frederica wanted to think. Then again, it was possible they'd missed something in their previous search. But if anyone was following them, they would've realized it long before their pursuers had the chance to take a tumble into the water.

…Wouldn't they?

However, Frederica's heart was racing. Jerrom gestured for a few others to follow him, but everyone else remained where they were. He, Erador, and Hossabara stepped around a small rocky patch of ground, and then reached the shape Jerrom had spotted. They crouched down, carefully reached out, and—

"M-milord!"

For once, no one cared about the volume of Erador's voice. His choked statement prompted Frederica to stumble forward; she was only vaguely aware of Geela telling her to be careful. Her feet slipped on a patch of mud, and she barely righted herself in time to avoid a fall.

Finally, she—along with the rest of the group—had reached the trio. Hossabara reached an arm forward, propping up the weak figure. Frederica's breath quickened, and she fell to her knees next to Erador.

The man was filthy—soaking wet and covered in mud and bruises. But still, as Hossabara gently lifted his head, it was clear that he was, in fact, Serenoa. The dark hair surrounding the soft face, the tattered remnants of his clothing, the sword still miraculously attached to his belt—

"Is…is he…" Frederica choked, unable to finish her statement. She knew what she desperately wanted the answer to be, but she didn't dare to hope.

Hossabara lowered her free hand to his chest, feeling for a heartbeat. After several seconds, a grin split her face, and she looked up and nodded. That was all the confirmation Frederica needed, but Hossabara proceeded to shout, "The kid's still breathing, at least for now!"

Cheers and sighs and sobs of relief spread through the group. Roland rushed towards them—Frederica's eyes watered—Erador grabbed Serenoa's shoulders and was openly weeping—

"Give him some space, everybody," Hossabara ordered. "Geela, help me get a tent set up. We'll need to look him over and see how he's doing. Everyone else, back off and let us work."

There she went, being as gentle yet firm as she always was. Frederica knew that Hossabara could handle the situation. She knew that, but she couldn't take her eyes off Serenoa. Not now…

"Listen," Hossabara said softly, turning to her as the crowd parted. "I know you're worried. You'll be the first one to hear about it when we're done. I promise."

"I-I know," Frederica sobbed. "I know, but…"

"We'll take the best care of him we can. We just need some time."

Frederica wiped her eyes, stood up, and reluctantly stepped back. She was vaguely conscious of a few people going through the supplies they'd taken from the Hyzantian ship they'd escaped on. Soon enough, a tent had been erected, and Hossabara and Geela disappeared inside with Serenoa's barely-conscious body.

He'd be fine. He had to be. Frederica had to believe it—she just needed to wait now. But finally, finally, things might be better than she thought they were.