Chapter 16: Downhearted

"So, Sevvy, what are you going to wear?"

Severa blinked blearily across the dinner table. "…what?"

Cynthia giggled. "Sheesh, are you asleep already? I asked you what you were going to wear tomorrow!"

I might as well be. It's not fair for her to have as much energy as she does… Severa sighed. "For Noire's birthday, you mean?"

"No!" Cynthia paused. "Well, yes, that too, but not what I meant."

"What did you mean, then?

"Tomorrow's the last day of the festival, and dressing up is a tradition!" Cynthia waved a finger. "Don't you remember, back when we were kids?"

Severa shrugged. "I mean, I guess so." Dressing up as mythical heroes was something that she had enjoyed when she was younger, but as with many other things, she considered herself to have grown out of it.

"Well, now that we're older, we can pick out our own costumes!" She grinned broadly. "I've been reading some old books of my mother's, and I have all kinds of ideas. There was a pegasus knight in one of them who was beautiful and graceful and had gorgeous green hair—"

"Your hair isn't green."

"Well, obviously." Cynthia brushed off that mere formality with her usual flippancy and pressed forward. "But Laurent said that he's willing to lend some of the tomes that he used for the costumes in the play—you know, the ones that changed up the color of the other Shepherds' hair, so they could pretend to be us." She leaned forward eagerly. "So what are you going to be?"

A memory came unbidden to Severa's mind: her mother gently helping to work her hair into a single long braid, her father handing her a toy axe he'd carved himself and smiling as she brandished it.

She pushed it away. There's no use dwelling on the past. "I hadn't really thought about it," she said aloud, her tone curt.

"Well, you'd better start thinking about it, and quick!" said Cynthia. "After all, tomorrow comes more quickly than you think!"

"You don't have to tell me that." Severa's jaw tightened slightly, and she gave Cynthia a terse nod. "I should head off. Lots to do in the morning."

Cynthia grinned and waggled her fingers in a wave. "Later, Sevvy!"

Picking up her plate, Severa headed over to the counter to drop it off. Once that was done, she headed in the direction of her room.

She walked down the hall—

She'd skipped between her parents, twirling around to let her braid—as red as her mother's hair—whip back and forth. Every detail of her costume was exactly as it had been in the stories: the matchless paladin who had ridden at the Radiant Hero's side through all of his journeys. Cordelia had worked on it for days until it met her exhaustive standards: "Only the best for my daughter," she'd said.

The heels of her boots clacked on the floor. She passed the practice ground, nodding tersely at the greetings of the recruits practicing their javelin throws—

A prize for one of the carnival games had caught her eye, and Frederick had offered to win it for her, but she'd insisted on doing it herself. She remembered trying again and again to hit the target, her father's steady hand on her shoulder and his kind smile as he gave her advice on how to go about it. Both her parents had clapped and cheered when she finally succeeded and claimed her rightful spoils.

Through the garden—

As they made their way home, Severa had chattered happily, already making plans for what costume she'd wear the next year. Cordelia had laughed and promised to sew her anything she wanted.

Her father had died that summer. She hadn't gone to a harvest festival since.

Severa stopped walking.

She leaned against the railing of the colonnade and bowed her head, feeling the warmth of tears on her cheeks. Father… Mother… I miss you both so much.

Through the tears blurring her eyes, Severa didn't notice the approach of another person until it was too late. She heard the newcomer's voice before she saw their face, and felt her heart leap into her mouth. "Are you all right, Severa?"

"L-Lucina?!" Severa hurriedly dashed a sleeve across her eyes, though she knew it was far too late to hide the fact that she had been crying. "I didn't mean for you to—"

"—didn't mean for me to see you," Lucina finished. "I thought you'd say something like that."

"Have I really gotten that predictable?"

"I wouldn't say predictable," said Lucina, "so much as that I've gotten to know you very well."

Severa laughed weakly. "That's just a polite way of saying predictable."

Lucina smiled and shrugged. "Maybe so." She moved to lean against the railing beside Severa. The princess kept some distance between them: a choice that both relieved and frustrated Severa. I'm glad that she's trying to respect my feelings, but at the same time, I wish the two of us were closer…

"So, is it something you want to talk about?" Lucina kept her voice soft and her eyes forward, as if she was addressing one of the flowerbeds and Severa only happened to be listening in. "I know that you prefer to work through things on your own sometimes, but I thought I'd offer."

"It's just…Severa let out a long sigh, shaking her head. "Just, this whole thing. All this celebration doesn't seem fair, you know?"

The Exalt seemed puzzled by that. "What do you mean?"

"Sure, we won, against all the odds, and we deserve to cut loose a little. But the ones who really deserve to celebrate, can't." She ruthlessly pressed down a lump in her throat and continued on. "They're not with us anymore."

"Ah. I understand." Lucina's hand moved to touch Severa's, just for a moment. It was only a glancing touch, feather-light, and the Exalt's hand quickly receded, but Severa was incredibly grateful for the moment of contact.

Thoughts chased each other through Severa's head, one after another. She thought back to the last real battle that the two of them had fought: Risen surrounding them on all sides, the stench of carrion heavy in the air. Pain exploding through her like a red-hot lance as Grima's spell took its toll. Her defiant, suicidal stand against Grima. And then the light, and the reappearance of faces that she'd never thought to see again…

Her father, steady and strong as he had always been, fighting his way to her side and shielding her from the enemy. Her mother, typically beautiful and perfect, clearing a path for her daughter to retreat. Both her parents, alive again, in their prime, and this time just as unstoppable as Severa's younger self had naively believed them to be. But all the same…

"Nothing can bring the dead back to life," she found herself saying. "Not truly."

"Not truly," echoed Lucina.

Severa's thoughts went to her father's lonely grave. "We couldn't have done any of this without them," she said quietly. "But they never got to see any of it. They never will."

Lucina shook her head, but didn't say anything.

"And I keep thinking that I've come to terms with that. That it's already hurt me so much, there's no way that it will be able to hurt me any more. But then I catch myself thinking of them, or remembering something we did together, and it hits me again that they're never coming back. They're gone for good." Severa let out a short bark of laughter, harsh and self-mocking. "I should really know better by now, shouldn't I?"

"Severa…"

"Is it like that for you, Lucina?" There was a hint of a plea in Severa's voice.

The Exalt's hands tightened on the railing. "Yes. Some things never get easier. Ever since…" She tucked a lock of blue hair behind her ear, looking down into the flowers. "Of late, it has worsened. Seeing my father again—if you can even call what we saw while fighting Grima the real him—it brought back everything that I felt losing him for the first time." She met Severa's eyes, sadness and sympathy written plainly on her face. "I imagine that the others feel the same."

Severa realized that Lucina was right. It was all too clear, looking back: Kjelle's listlessness over the end of the war, the almost imperceptible sadness in Noire's eyes when she spoke of her parents' spellbook. What was it like for Brady to play the violin, or for Inigo to dance, after all the time they shared with their parents? Every time someone calls Yarne the "last taguel," they're reminding him of his mother's death—how much must that hurt him?

She gritted her teeth into an expression that might have generously been called a smile. "Gods… of course you're right." Severa shook her head. "You're absolutely right, and I've just been too self-centered to bother noticing."

"I wouldn't say—" began Lucina. Severa waved a hand, her smile shifting from bitter to rueful.

"All right, fine, I'll say distracted instead of self-centered if it makes you feel better."

Lucina returned the smile without a hint of self-consciousness. "Good."

Severa pushed off from the railing, letting out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry for dropping all of this on you out of the blue."

"You don't need—"

"—to apologize," said Severa. "Yeah, I know, but I felt like it anyway."

The Exalt chuckled softly. "Am I the predictable one now?"

"Or I've gotten to know you very well." Severa winked. "We've had quite a few similar conversations in the past, after all."

"I suppose you're right."

"Anyway, thanks for listening to me."

"That's what friends are for." Lucina gravely met Severa's eyes. "If there's ever anything you want to talk about—anything—I want you to know that you can talk to me about it, all right?"

Anything, huh? Severa's eyes flicked down to the tsubaki pendant Lucina was wearing for the barest moment before returning to the princess's face. "I'll keep that in mind." She rolled her shoulders, yawning. "It's getting late… we should probably turn in soon if we want to be awake enough for Noire's party tomorrow."

"Good point." Lucina stood back from the railing as well, nodding to Severa. "Goodnight, Severa."

"Goodnight, Lucina." As the princess began to walk past her, Severa's pulse quickened. It's just the two of us here… this could be my chance to tell her how I… I…

"What was that?"

Severa snapped out of her thoughts to find Lucina looking curiously towards her. Did I say something out loud?

She forced a smile. "I… hope you sleep well."

Lucina smiled back, without any of Severa's pretense. "You, too."

And moments later, she was gone.

Severa looked out over the flowerbeds and let out a long breath. Well, there goes another chance. I can't say I'm surprised by my own ability to mess these things up.

Lucina was right on more than one account: some things never get easier.

Author's Note:

Another one of these, because the unprecedented delay between chapters could probably use some explanation. Over the past three months, I've been involved in a multitude of things—moving to a new city, searching for a job, participating in a fic exchange or two, purchasing and playing through all three routes of Fire Emblem: Fates, and (last but certainly not least) getting honest-to-goodness, real-life married. Hopefully I'll be a bit better about updating with most of the busy stuff behind me. (And if you want to track my other work, my blog— .com—is probably the best place for that. Until the next chapter, signing off!

-Arvanion