Italics = Thought

I do not own Fire Emblem.

Cross published on A03

Severa closed the gap between herself and Marc with little more than five steps. Barely disguised anger flited across her face. The young man kept his expression casual, although he was aware that Severa was far superior when it came to close combat. If he was correct, he had less than three seconds to defend himself if it came to blows. All he had was an Elfire tome, hidden in his coat.

Thankfully, at least in Marc's mind, Severa merely dumped against his shoulder. Her angered look hadn't changed. He knew that he deserved it. He deserved a whole lot worse than an angry look and a barged shoulder.

"Let's talk." Severa spat, and stalked off further into the town. Her twintails billowed behind her.

Marc grinned, and shook his head with bemusement as he went after his sister. He noticed that his sister carried herself differently, but he couldn't tell what the differences were. Was it confidence? Self-assurance?

Then recognition dawned on him with a somewhat terrible clang.

"…This will be costly." He concluded.

They, or rather Severa, chose a tearoom near the harbour. It was, as Marc was about to find out, the finest (and by extension the most expensive) tearoom in the town, mainly due to the fact that it had easy access to trade routes, so could acquire the finer, more exotic ingredients.

"So then.." Marc said as he sat down at their given table, overlooking the harbour. "How have you been keeping, Sister? I mean, besides dying your hair red."

Severa sighed as she sat down. "The red hair was…a by-product of the magic that sent us here. I am…surprised to see you here at all, Marc. The last time I saw you, you and Morgan fled into the desert with the remains of the Plegian people."

"We prefer the Plegian Remnant, actually." Marc said cheerfully as the bone china teapot and teacups were placed in front of them, along with a plate of still warm cookies. "We're actually proud to call ourselves as such. But you didn't answer my question, Severa. How are you?"

"….I am fine. Quite a bit tired, admittedly, since I've crossed from the Nohrian Capital to here in the past twenty hours, and now Lady Camilla is in some warm and comfy tavern room while I'm here trying to find information. ONLY…..to find out my dear…sweet…little brother is the one leading an invasion. AGAIN!"

Severa's shouting earned her a few glares from other customers.

"I think you ought to calm down, Sister." Marc murmured. "And we are not invading. We're merely camped out outside the town. We have no plans for invasion. We just want a safe haven in which to live. Our camp is that safe haven."

"You really think I can believe that? Much as I want to. I cannot trust what you say after you sided with Father." Severa said, sadness in her voice. "You don't know how much it hurt me when you left. You were my brother Marc! I didn't care that you left Lucina broken hearted. I don't care that you killed innocents….I care that my sweet, caring brother abandoned me!"

He did offer to take bring you with him. Not-Her-Father said pointedly. You declined. Don't argue that he betrayed you when you betrayed him.

Severa narrowed her gaze. "I know that you and Morgan did what you thought was right, to start with. But why didn't you leave after Daddy went insane?"

Marc sighed. "We were too far gone. Grima had already corrupted us. Twisted us. When Valm fell to my armies, I was little more than a fanatic."

Marc took a gulp of tea, and scowled. "Grima couldn't die quick enough. The Remnant has forsaken worship of the Fell Dragon. He brought our country and people to ruins. The sins of the father are visited on the children, Sister. Our fathers' sins are many, so sadly it falls to us to repay them. You, Me and Morgan. We all have to do good to absolve ourselves of sins."

Poetic. But he has sins of his own to repay. Does he think that saving a handful of lives is sufficient restitution?

"Have….have you heard his voice since he died?"

Marc raised an eyebrow. "No. Have you?"

"Sometimes. It's hard to tell if I'm actually hearing him, or just remembering his voice."

Lying to your little brother? For shame Severa, for shame.

"That's fair." Marc said. "Frankly, I hope the monsters gone."

Marc drained his tea, and headed off to pay.

I wonder, does he suspect the truth? Or is he just a lucky guesser?

The Fell Siblings departed the tearoom, and headed out, and prepared to go their separate ways.

"…Mother would be proud of you, you know. You've finally surpassed her."

Severa was struck dumb by Marc's comment. Was it true?

You've defeated a God, are you so surprised that you've surpassed both of your parents?

Marc grinned again, and pulled his elder sister into a hug. "Still love you Sis."

Marc headed of down the street, before he stopped mid-step. "Oh. Can you tell Owain something for me?"

"..What?" Severa asked calmly.

"Inform him that he's a Father. His daughters name is Ophelia." Marc smiled sadly. "The Plegian Remnant adore her. Morgan adores her."

"…..She…..she was pregnant?!"

"She was. The time she and Owain were trapped in a snowstorm during the war clearly ended with then screwing. Nothing keeps people warm like hate-sex." Marc grinned. "Although from what I hear, you have your kinks. Threesomes with your 'Lady Camilla' and her other retainer."

"S-So?!"

Marc kept his grin, though it turned sad. "I'm not judging you, Sister. I never have. After all, I was the only one you told that you were into women. I've kept that secret, and will until you choose to reveal it. You are my sister. Not even travelling to a new world can change that."

How sweet.

"I-I….cannot tell you how much that means to me….thank you…B-Brother."

"Would you like to meet her?"

Severa was about to answer, when she felt pressure in her skull. A surge of pure terror shot through her, as she realised what was happening.

Grima was taking control. By force.

I am not giving you a choice in this, Severa. I must see this Exalted Fell Blood.

"Of course. I'd love to."