Chapter 19: Successor

"Are you all right back there?"

Severa turned in her saddle as she asked the question, the wind tugging at her hair as she did.

Lucina, her cheeks flushed from the wind, nodded. "Well, I'm not worried about falling, at least."

"Blizzard would never let that happen, would you, girl?" said Severa, patting her mount's neck. The pegasus whickered in response, as if agreeing.

"I'm in good hands, then."

"Or good hooves." When Lucina failed to respond, Severa sighed. It was a lame joke in the first place, so no wonder she didn't think much of it.

A moment later, she heard Lucina chuckle quietly. "That was pretty good, Severa."

"Of course it was!" Severa grinned in reply, though at the moment the main thought in her head was no, it really wasn't.

"About how far are we from the Shepherds' garrison?" asked the Exalt, her grip on Severa's waist loosening slightly as she craned her neck to look at the countryside below. "I don't often see Ylisse from this vantage point, so my bearings are a bit off."

"A few miles yet, but we'll be there within a quarter-hour." Severa nudged Blizzard with her heels, adjusting the direction that the pegasus was flying. "And then we can get out of this blasted cold. I hope they have something good prepared for us—at least they'd better if they want to give you a welcome that befits your station."

"…I suppose so."

"You did remember to tell them we were coming, right?" Severa's words were teasing, but she felt Lucina stiffen slightly.

"I think."

"You think?"

The Exalt looked rather embarrassed. "I'm afraid I've had quite a bit on my mind lately. But I'm almost certain that I told Laurent we would be visiting today."

She doesn't sound all that sure of herself, but I guess that I can cut her some slack. It's true that she's been busy, after all.

In the weeks since Inigo's departure for Plegia, Lucina had been working day and night, writing letters to nobles in Ferox, Ylisse, and even the Valmese continent. The fevered pace of her writing coincided with the onset of winter: once the snows fell, it would be difficult for her messengers to deliver the Exalt's words.

"Have you been sleeping well lately?" Severa asked, keeping her voice casual.

"I've been… sleeping."

"Gods, Lucina, that's not what I asked." Severa turned one eye to glare at her liege. "And don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, either. I patrol the courtyard outside your room, okay? I know that you've had a candle lit in your room past midnight."

The guilty look on Lucina's face was like that of a child caught stealing sweets. "I admit, I have been keeping somewhat later hours than usual…"

"What are you doing… writing every single letter in your own hand?"

"…yes. Though my hand gets rather sore after a while."

"Ugh! Really, Lucina?"

"What?"

"You could ask any one of the palace staff for help. I'm sure that they'd be glad to offer their assistance. Or… gods, you could ask me! It's not like all of the recruits need me to hold their hands all the time. They have Cynthia to help them."

"I didn't want to bother you."

"It bothers me that you're not asking anyone for help," said Severa, rolling her eyes. Lucina chuckled softly.

"I suppose I should expect nothing less than the most careful assistance from you. If you'd like to help me, I'd be glad to have you."

"One more thing…"

"Yes?"

Severa smiled. "I'm going to make sure you get to sleep on time, if I have to throw you into bed myself."

"Your threat is noted."

They reached the garrison and circled it in a long sweep, coming in for a landing on the training grounds. The sentry—a new recruit Severa didn't recognize—looked up in surprise as Blizzard folded her wings.

"What's going on?"

"Please inform your commander that the Exalt has arrived," Severa said briskly.

The recruit's jaw dropped and he craned his neck to look past Severa. "H-her Grace the Exalt?!"

"You should have been informed of this," said Severa impatiently. "The Exalt sent a message—"

"It's possible I may have forgotten to," Lucina admitted sheepishly.

"You said you were almost certain you'd told them."

"I, uh…"

"Never mind." Severa waved to the recruit dismissively. "Just bring Laurent out here. He'll know what to do." When the Shepherd continued to stay still, Severa crossed her arms. "Today, please?"

The recruit swallowed, nodded, and fled.

Severa raised an eyebrow at Lucina. "Almost certain, huh?"

The Exalt ran a hand through her hair. "Sorry…"

"No harm done, I suppose. Except for that poor watchman's composure, I suppose."

"Cousin!" The boisterous shout came from the far end of the courtyard. Owain, grinning broadly, jogged over, his coat trailing out behind him. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"We were hoping to consult with the command staff, if it's not too much trouble."

"I was on my way to the training ground, but postponing that to speak with you is certainly a worthy cause." Owain looked around. "Where did Nathan go? He was supposed to be standing watch—"

"We sent him inside to tell Laurent we were here. Assuming that Laurent is even around…"

"Don't worry, Severa, he's here." Owain grinned. "Your arrival might be a welcome respite for him. He's been quite frustrated, trying to drive matters of logistics and supply into the minds of our stalwart companions."

"He's probably sick of doing all of that himself," said Severa dryly. "Time to push the work onto others."

"If the Shepherds are gathering more recruits, then having people to lighten the load will be a boon," said Lucina. "I hardly think he's doing it for his own convenience."

"I guess that's fair."

"He has been lamentably bogged down," Owain said, shaking his head. "Though, strangely enough, he rebuffed my offer to lend assistance…"

I can't imagine why, Severa thought wryly. Owain was steady enough in a fight, but she didn't think that would carry over to something as pedestrian as logistics and supply. Though I shouldn't judge him too quickly. After all, my first procurement run for the pegasus knights was a disaster…

"You and Kjelle are already seeing to the training of the new troops," said Lucina. "I'm sure he didn't want to overburden you."

"Not to mention that you took responsibility for putting the entire play together," said Severa. "If you ask me, you're already going above and beyond what's expected of you."

"You make a compelling point," said Owain, striking his trademark pose. "Endless paperwork would do little to stay my sword-hand's eternal hunger for glory."

It was only by virtue of their long acquaintance with Owain that Lucina and Severa managed to hide their smiles.

"Your Grace. To what do we owe this pleasure?" That was Laurent, emerging from the command building with Kjelle just behind him and the sentry Nathan several paces behind.

"I thought it might be good to get out of the castle. You mentioned in the last report you sent that there were matters you wished to explain in person?"

"Indeed. While we've had no further information on the Plegian situation, there are several other matters pertaining to foreign affairs that I thought best to explain face-to-face." He looked back to the recruit and nodded briskly. "Thank you for bringing this matter to our attention. You may return to your post."

"Sir!" Looking glad to be out of the company of so many notable people, the sentry strode off.

Owain sighed. "I suppose you'll want me at this meeting, too…"

Hearing the defeated tone in his voice, Kjelle grinned. "I think we can manage to do without you for this one. Wouldn't want you to shirk training on our account." The knight winked. "You need to make sure that all of those rehearsals haven't made you soft."

"Pfft! No amount of thespian activity could quench the passionate fire that burns in my veins!"

"Fire in your veins sounds more than a little painful," said Severa.

"Yet I can think of no words more apt to describe the dark powers that contend within me… ah, my aching blood!"

"Gods, you're such a nerd."

Owain scoffed. "Hey, that was a good one! I'll have to write it down so I remember…"

"Why don't you train first?" said Kjelle. "Get what needs to be done out of the way."

"I suppose so." Owain smiled at Severa. "Care to join me? I've been hard-pressed to find a competent sparring partner—"

"—meaning that he's tired of losing to me every time we go head-to-head—"

"Oh, come on, Kjelle! That doesn't happen."

"Empirical evidence does not corroborate your objection," said Laurent, eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

"Ah, forget it. So, how about it, Severa?"

Severa was tempted to say yes immediately, but she had her position as the Exalt's guard to consider. She glanced to Lucina, who nodded in approval. "Go ahead. You hardly need to worry about my safety in the middle of the Shepherds' garrison."

Just what I wanted to hear. Severa bared her teeth at Owain in a wolfish grin. "By the time I'm done with you, it won't be only your blood that's aching."

Owain returned her smile, just as fiercely. "This ought to be fun."

"Try not to break anything while we're meeting," said Laurent.

Kjelle was more blunt. "Try not to break each other."

"Not making any promises."

As Lucina and the other two walked inside, Owain bowed. "Shall we dance?"

"You sound like Inigo," Severa groused. "I'm not sure if I like that or not."

"Well, if you don't like it, there's no better way of expressing displeasure than by a good friendly bout," said Owain cheerfully.

"My thoughts exactly."

They walked together to the storage shed next to the practice field. Owain flung open the doors with a flourish and stepped inside, where row after row of wooden practice weapons were neatly arranged on racks.

He selected one almost immediately—a narrow, well-worn sword, its hilt wrapped in strips of yellow fabric. Severa took her time, weighing practice swords in her hand and giving each a few experimental swings. After a moment, she settled on one in particular: a heavier and broader weapon than Owain's, similar to the sword she had used during the war.

"This one should work."

Owain chuckled approvingly. "Taking the time to get to know each blade is the mark of a true visionary."

"I think you're reading into this too much."

The pair strolled out onto the practice field and took a few minutes to stretch and loosen up before squaring off. Severa sized up her opponent.

Been a while since the last time we practiced together. Owain fought like no one else she knew, his style an eclectic fusion of several techniques. It fluidly combined the elegance of his father's Chon'sin roots, the harsh practicality of the Feroxi arena fighters, and the refined grace of the Ylissean royal family with Owain's own unique flair. I can never be entirely sure which Owain I'll be fighting… but I've never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Begin," she said.

Owain lunged forward, immediately putting Severa on the defensive. She yielded a few steps before meeting his overhead swing with a two-handed block. While his sword was engaged with hers, she swept one foot toward his legs, forcing him to skip back to avoid being tripped.

She pressed her advantage, taking advantage of her blade's weight to force Owain backward. He avoided her blows rather than trying to block them, biding his time until he could find an opportunity.

He got his opening when Severa overextended on one of her swings, and seized on it immediately. A series of quick jabs interrupted her rhythm, putting her on the defensive.

Owain's slimmer, faster blade tested Severa's defenses on every side, leaving her without a moment's respite. She began to feel irritated. He's like an insect that won't go away. I wish I could swat him.

As the co-commander of the Shepherds took another step forward, Severa changed tactics. Rather than allow herself to be forced back, she stepped into him, locking hilts and throwing her body weight behind her sword. Owain's eyes widened with surprise as he was thrown backwards, landing on his rump.

Severa lifted her sword above her hed to finish it, but checked herself at the last moment. The sort of crushing blow she would aim at a fallen Risen would hardly be appropriate in this situation.

It was that moment of hesitation that cost her the match. Owain seized on it, rolling upright with a backwards somersault and lunging at Severa before she had the chance to recover. He pulled his blow at the last possible moment, tapping lightly on her collarbone.

"Good match," Owain panted, smiling as he lifted his blade in a salute. Severa saluted in turn, sighing regretfully.

"Almost had you."

"I thought you did, too."

"For a second, I forgot it was supposed to be a friendly match. Had to remind myself of that before I hit you in the face."

"I'm glad that you did… I like my face the way it is, thanks." Owain tugged at his collar. "Nothing like a good spar to warm the blood in this dark season."

"Winter isn't for another few weeks, at least," Severa responded with a roll of her eyes.

"Yet its biting chill is in the air, sinking frozen fangs into us in order to sap our strength."

Despite herself, Severa chuckled. "Do you plan on writing a play about that, too?"

"I might." Owain shrugged. "I need to take care not to overreach myself by taking on too many projects at once. Otherwise, the fire of my creative mind might burn low."

"We couldn't have that." Severa began to walk back towards the storage shed, Owain next to her. "Say, Owain…"

"Yes?"

"What was it that Laurent wanted to discuss with Lucina, anyway? I didn't ask her for any specifics, but…"

"Some sort of political talk. Not really the sort of thing I specialize in."

"Maybe you should. It could be important to you, since you're a member of the royal family."

"Hardly a relevant one, though." Owain shrugged with self-deprecating good humor. "And unless some miracle occurs, I will remain irrelevant. Quite comfortably, I might add."

Severa placed her sword back on the rack, biting her lip. "I would hardly call you irrelevant. You're the co-commander of the Shepherds, after all—"

"But in terms of Ylisse's succession, that doesn't particularly matter. Falchion has chosen the hand to which it is mated, and that hand is not mine." He flourished his practice sword as he set it back in place. "It is my fate to wield a different storied blade—perhaps the legendary Mystletainn, if my station permits me sufficient time to seek it out."

His tone was light, casual. Severa knew better.

She had seen him during the war. Though Owain hid his fears and doubts behind a mask of theatrics, not even that had been enough to conceal his despair at discovering he was not one of Falchion's chosen. To him, it had felt like a failure to help Lucina: a burden he cold not help her to shoulder. Owain had thrown himself into danger time and time again, caring little for his own safety so long as his actions served the greater good.

She remembered the scene in the play, at the bridge. There, Owain's "sacrifice" had seemed a grand and selfless gesture, fitting for a legendary hero. But Severa still wondered if, deep inside, there might have been another reason.

As if Owain had wanted to die…

"You certainly got quiet all of a sudden," Owain teased.

Severa snapped back to the present, grimacing. "I was just picturing the consequences of you haring off after some nonexistent magic sword," she lied. "I don't think Kjelle would be too happy with you."

"You can't prove it doesn't exist."

"You can't prove it does."

Owain shrugged. "Anyway, you don't really think that I would abandon my post, do you?"

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Owain put a hand to his heart with affronted dignity. "So little faith in me! I'm devastated."

"I'm sure you are. But let's get back on track." The pair exited the storage shed, pushing the doors closed behind them. "Is it the succession that they're discussing in there, or politics in general?"

"They're really one and the same, at this point," said Owain. "And thus, not the sort of conversation I can contribute much to. Probably the reason that Kjelle let me go. With the Fell Dragon removed from play, the people have more of an eye to the future. They've found all sorts of things to worry about. Of course, they're not too terribly excited to approach Lucina themselves, so they've been dropping not-so-subtle hints to Laurent instead."

Severa had a sinking feeling she already knew what he was getting at, but she asked anyway. "Hints about what?"

"Marriage, succession, and so forth."

"It seems a little early for that, don't you think?"

"Maybe. But Uncle Chrom was about Lucina's age when he got married, after all. Some nobles feel as if that sets a precedent."

"Ugh. As if it's any of their business when Lucina decides to marry. Can't they just leave well enough alone?"

"I'm with you on that, believe me." Owain shook his head. "Gods' sakes, we just won a war! But heaven forbid we delay a single instant on what the nobles think is important—"

"I was wondering why the others would let you skip the meeting, but it all makes sense now," said Severa. "You feel rather strongly about this, don't you?"

"That may be a tame way of putting it. But yes, I find the idea insufferable. I certainly have no thoughts of my own on the subject of marriage." His jaw clenched. "In spite of her accomplishments, and all the things she's done, the nobles still seem to view Lucina as little more than a commodity for ensuring the future of the country."

Severa, remembering the words she had exchanged with Laurent on the walltop, concealed a wince. I'm just as bad, really… viewing things in terms of rulers and successors without taking Lucina's own feelings into account.

Or is it my feelings that I'm avoiding?

Owain was still talking; Severa pulled her attention back to the present.

"—hasn't stopped them from putting several noble suitors forward for consideration. Even Gerome was on that list… I mean, he is Duke of Rosanne, after all, but can you imagine him and Lucina together?"

"No," said Severa, exceedingly thankful that she couldn't.

"I don't think we need to be too concerned about it, though," said Owain. "Laurent promised 'to bring these matters to the Exalt's attention,' but that's all. He has no intention of forcing her into a choice—knowing him, he'll probably advise against putting too much stock in the situation."

"As sensible as ever," said Severa, feeling a surge of relief.

"Well, we'd expect nothing less from him." Owain rolled his shoulders, glancing up at the sky. "Think we've given them enough time to get past the boring parts of the meeting?"

"I'd say so."

"Then we may as well join them. I'm sure they'll be glad for the chance to change the subject."

Side by side, the pair walked toward Laurent's office.

The meeting ended roughly half an hour later, and the five friends walked together into the courtyard.

"It was a pleasure to see you, Your Grace," said Laurent, inclining his head to Lucina. "I hope to see you again soon."

"Though perhaps give us a word of warning next time," said Kjelle. "I don't want our sentries fainting out of excitement."

Lucina grinned, a little bit guiltily. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Ready to leave whenever you are, Lucina," said Severa. She stood further back, holding Blizzard's reins as the pegasus pawed the ground. "The royal guards will get restless if we delay too much longer."

"I suppose you are right. I am ready to depart whenever you are."

"Ah, the heavy burden of responsibility. Would that I could avoid it entirely." Owain shook his head.

Kjelle raised an eyebrow. "If you think it's heavy, maybe you should teach yourself to lift more."

Owain shrugged. "We can't all be duty-bound mountains of world is more interesting with some variety."

The Exalt laughed. "You certainly help make the world more interesting, Owain."

"That's a position I'm honored to have."

Severa, who had climbed into the saddle while the others were still talking, cleared her throat. "Were we planning on leaving any time soon, or should I dismount again so you can take your time saying your goodbyes?"

"Oops… Sorry, Severa." Lucina gave the three Shepherds a quick wave. "I'll try to visit again as soon as I can—I should start following my father's example with regards to the Shepherds."

"There will be plenty of time for that soon enough." Kjelle grinned. "Now get going before Severa decides to take off without you!"

Lucina took the hand Severa offered and allowed herself to be pulled into the saddle. "Have a safe flight back!" Laurent called.

"We will!" said Severa, and signaled for Blizzard to take off.

The pair were mostly quiet while the pegasus forged upwards, shifting in the saddle with every beat of her wings. When Blizzard leveled out, they had enough attention to spare for a conversation.

"How was your spar with Owain?" Lucina wanted to know.

"I lost, unfortunately."

"Oh?"

"I might have gotten a little too absorbed in things and forgotten that the point wasn't actually to beat him black and blue."

"And after Kjelle told you not to break each other, too." Lucina chuckled. "Did you enjoy it, at least?"

"I did. I haven't done anything of the sort since my last bout with you… I have to hold back when I'm with the recruits, or they could get really hurt."

"I hadn't realized that you were missing out, or I would have offered to spar with you again."

Severa glanced over her shoulder, about to say that she hadn't wanted to interrupt Lucina's work, but she changed her mind when she caught a glimpse of Lucina's eyes. She feels lonely. During the war, we were the only ones that she could confide in. And now that she's Exalt, there's a sort of distance between her and the common folk. Like they see her as more than she wants to be.

"…how early would I have to get up, though?" Severa winked. "If it's at the crack of dawn, you'd probably have an unfair advantage."

"I can give you time to wake up first, if you really need to."

"If that's the case, maybe you could convince me." Severa twitched the reins, turning Blizzard a touch further to the south. "What about you? Well, I mean, I caught the last bit of your meeting, but I'm not really sure what was going on at the beginning." Owain might have told me his guess, but Lucina doesn't know that.

The Exalt was silent for a few moments, shifting her weight in the saddle as she considered the question. Her voice, when she spoke up at last, was terse. "Nothing important."

For some reason, Severa was glad to hear that answer.