Lucina wakes to the smell of woodsmoke. Her body is one throbbing mass of hurt, but after a moment of lying still and attempting to assess the damage she pinpoints the worst of the pain in her right shoulder and left brow. She can't seem to move her right arm, so she reaches up with her left instead and prods gently at her face. She finds some sort of makeshift cloth bandage beneath her fingers, before pain explodes across her forehead and down towards her eye and nausea bubbles up in the back of her throat. She rolls over, gingerly props herself on her left arm and retches. There's nothing in her stomach for her to heave up, and her throat burns with acid instead. She paws at her neck, head swimming and mouth unbelievably dry. A gentle hand comes to rest on her good shoulder, and something's shoved into her palm. It's a hunk of bread, she realizes. Soggy but edible, and she wastes no time in scarfing it down. It eases the burn considerably. Next, a flask of water. The hands of whoever's given it to her hold it back so she doesn't drink too fast, and take it away when she's had her fill. Finally, Lucina blinks through the haze fogging her eye enough to make out bright red hair and a face contorted with relief, sadness and anger. Lucina isn't sure how her companion can manage to convey all three emotions with a single expression, but it's as heartbreaking as it is impressive.

"Severa?" She croaks, and Severa's bottom lip begins to tremble.

"Lucina," comes the choked response.

"What happened? Where's—" Lucina tries to ask, shutting her eye again as her head throbs. Severa sits in silence for a minute.

"You took a bad hit and went down. Everyone else was either killed or ran away, I'm not sure. They were gone by the time I reached the other shore. I dragged you here and tried to patch you up," she says, quietly. Lucina feels her stomach drop. A sense of vertigo washes over her, like the world has suddenly been swept from under her feet.

"They're… they're gone?" She repeats it slowly, as if trying to bring sense to the words. "Did you look for them?" The ground beneath her feels as if it's giving way. She's almost sick for a second time.

"No, I was a bit busy lugging your unconscious body to safety," Severa snaps. Then she bites her lip, and when Lucina dares to open her eye again, she can see something behind her facade give way. "Besides, if… if anyone survived, then they took off. They didn't come back for us. For you. I haven't had the chance to look yet, I was afraid if I left you, you'd… y-you'd die." There's a deafening silence at that. Severa turns her face away and swipes a hand across her nose, sniffling. Lucina chances touching her bandages for a second time, looking for something to say, even as her words seem to swim from her reach.

"Well… I'm here, aren't I? Didn't die." Lucina tries for a comforting smile, but the look on Severa's face tells her it's not working. It probably doesn't help that she looks like absolute shit. "Sev… the ones who died. Y-you didn't see Morgan, did you?" Lucina brings herself to ask, doing her best to stifle the tremor in her voice. Severa shakes her head, slowly. Lucina allows herself to sink back to the floor, tears of relief pricking her eyes.

"Thank the gods." She whispers.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Severa bursts out suddenly.

"Wh-what?" Lucina said, startled. Pain lances through her skull.

"Don't give me that shit! I mean, why didn't you run? You just- you stood there, and kept taking blows until you fell and I thought- I mean, this- whatever the hell we are, this band, this army of yours - it can't go on without you. I- We need you. So why the fuck were you trying to die?"

"I-I… I wasn't, I was simply trying to cover our retreat-"

"No you weren't! Don't lie to me, Lucina! I know what it looks like when someone's given up on themselves." Severa blinks back tears, remembering Lissa blocking the doorway with her body as the Risen tore at her. Lucina swallows, hard.

"…I failed, though, didn't I?" The words fall heavily from her lips, weighed down with the effort of speaking them.

"Failed what?"

"I failed you. I swore to you that I would keep everyone safe and I didn't. I was just… I needed to be sure as many of you got to safety as possible. I was helping-"

"Gods, you fucking idiot." Severa squeezes her eyes shut against hot tears, balling her hands into fists. "We're in a gods damned warzone! We've been losing people the whole way but you... y-you think that just because we lost some more you can just give up? Are you really that much of a coward?"

"Coward?" Lucina frowned, bandages stretching taught against her skin. "That's not- don't, Sev-"

"No, listen to me. Your army? You are the only reason we're alive. You're the only hope we have of surviving this hellscape, and you giving up on yourself is like… if you give up on yourself you're giving up on all of us. You have no right to do that to us, t-to me. If you swear to me that you'll keep us safe, then that means you as well, stupid!" She stands up quickly, swaying on her feet before angrily kicking a pebble. Lucina can see more clearly now and recognizes that they're in some sort of cave. The pebble clacks on the rough stone ground and the sharp sound echoes painfully through Lucina's skull. She winces, and Severa turns her back to her, striding a little further away to peek out the entrance of the cave. She's erected a slapdash barricade of rocks and tree branches by the entrance, and now that she's walked away Lucina can more clearly see the little fire nearby, a thin trickle of dark smoke winding up from the embers to hover in the upper reaches of the cave, shifting and shimmering in a way that makes her head hurt to watch.

Severa comes back breathing hard through her nose, and kneels down beside Lucina. The grogginess is wearing off, now, and the pain is starting to eat at her, consuming every thought. It must show on her face because Severa frowns, looking at her shoulder.

"Gods, we don't have the medical supplies to deal with this. If we had Brady, maybe-" she cut herself off, sighing.

"How bad is it?" Lucina asked in a strained voice, narrowed eyes watering. Severa's frown deepens.

"You've got a bad cut on your forehead, didn't get through your damned thick skull, though. And then… uh, well you've got an arrowhead in your shoulder."

"Shit."

"I haven't… I mean, I've been too, um, I didn't know if I should take it out right away, I'm no healer. I was worried you might bleed out," she explains, and Lucina grunts in acknowledgement.

" Y-yeah. I'm not sure if… we don't really have a choice. I'd rather not leave it to rot in there," she says, setting her jaw.

An hour later, Severa lets a bloodstained dagger and an arrowhead clatter to the ground. It had been sterilized in the flames of their tiny campfire, and now she reaches for a second blade that lies in the embers, glowing as red as the setting sun. Her breath shakes but her hands remain steady as she presses the blade flat against the wound on Lucina's shoulder. Lucina's jaws are clamped tight around a piece of cloth but Severa can still hear her muffled screams of pain, and feel her left hand balled up tight in her shirt. Her eyes are screwed shut and tears leak from the corners, silently tracking down her face. Severa hastily grabs the makeshift poultice of damp cloth soaked in her last vulnerary and lightly ties it around Lucina's shoulder. Then she sits back, and hugs herself, trying to regulate her uneven breathing.

Lucina drifts in and out of consciousness, passing out when the pain is too much to bear and then waking again from the sharp, deep seated throbbing in her shoulder. She's soaked in her own sweat and she can't tell if that's what she's feeling on her cheeks or if she's been crying. She wouldn't be surprised either way. Occasionally, her fevered mind drifts to thoughts about Morgan. She prays with all her heart that he got away safely. Surely he must have, he's a smart kid. But what if he didn't, the thought keeps crossing her mind, what if Severa missed his body? What if he didn't survive and you have nobody left? If he's dead it's your fault. Yours, yours, yours. The smell of woodsmoke clings to her. She tries to keep herself in the present by focusing only on the scent of it, but her mind is alight with too many confusing thoughts, and they're suffocating her. She tries to turn over, but pain lances through her again and she cries out. Her shoulder is on fire, and it scares her that she still can't move her arm. Her eye is so damp beneath her bandages she can't help but wonder if it's just sweat or if she's bleeding, too. She cracks her good eye open, and for a minute sees nothing but darkness. In a panic, her breathing gets faster, hurried breaths tearing from her throat, until she blinks again and can see firelight dancing on the walls. She can't sit up, so she lolls her head to the side until her gaze finds purchase on Severa's back as she crouches in front of the fire.

Severa blows on it gently, coaxing hot coals back into flame. They tinkle like glass, popping and hissing as they take hold of the dry twigs she feeds them. The fire hurts to look at, so Lucina studies her companion instead. Her vision wavers, swimming in and out of focus, but she manages to catch it on Severa's profile. She's all sharp angles, Lucina notices. Thin as she was from lack of food, she's grown lean and strong like a knotted rope. She hunches in on herself next to the fire, hair splayed out behind her in an unkempt tangle of red, ends chopped unevenly just below the shoulders. It's still matted with blood, and even more brilliant than the flames. Her hand lives at her sword's hilt for the night. She's clutching it as tightly as Lucina had held Falchion the first night after the fall of Ylisstol. Severa's cheeks are dry, but her eyes glitter with unshed tears, of frustration or sadness Lucina can't tell. She wishes she could comfort her, she doesn't want to leave her alone for the night, but she can hardly keep her eye open for the pain, let alone speak.

She contents herself with watching Severa. She grounds herself in Severa's quiet movements, the fluid way she flicks more fuel on the fire, and the nervous finger tapping the pommel of her sword. She tries to forget her pain in the gentle curve of Severa's neck, her glowing skin and defiant chin.

Lucina slows her breathing, blocks out the damp, sweaty feeling and puts her pain aside as best she can. Finally, she drifts off.

Severa nearly cries in relief when Lucina opens her eye in the morning. Somewhere deep down she'd been terrified at the prospect of her not waking up. She didn't know what she would have done if that had happened. Given in to despair, maybe. She's decided that today she'll leave the shelter of the cave and try to find the survivors of Lucina's army, if there are any. Perhaps it's selfish, but Severa can't bring herself to leave Lucina behind. She tells herself that it's to keep an eye on her, that she can't trust she won't be attacked by Risen while she's gone. That if anything happens medically Severa needs to be there to take care of her. A small part of her echoes something along the lines of I'm not like the others. I won't leave my Exalt behind. Truthfully, she knows it's because she can't stand the thought of being alone.

She manages to sit Lucina up, feed her the last of the bread and change her bandages with strips she cuts from her own undershirt, praying that they'll be clean enough. She's sure Lucina's concussed, so she covers her right eye too, to protect her from what little light can filter through the heavy dust clouds hanging over the sky. Hoisting Lucina up, she drapes her good arm across her shoulders, taking on her weight. Lucina nearly collapses on the spot, breathing rough and heavy. But she grits her teeth, and manages to stand steady, and Severa loves her for it. She's being stupid. Throwing caution to the wind and dragging Lucina along with her. If they're attacked, Severa knows they're doomed. As much as she likes to tell herself she could protect the both of them, she knows it's a lie. So she simply keeps walking, praying with every fiber of her being that they aren't seen.

Lucina trembles against her, left hand like a vice around Severa's shoulder. She whispers deliriously under her breath, repeating the words Morgan and I'm sorry over and over. Severa bites her lip and, despite herself, thinks about Cynthia. She knows that if her little sister is gone she'll never forgive herself.

It's sheer luck that Nah finds them. She swoops from the sky, startling Severa with her size and speed. She crashes into Severa with a sloppy hug that betrays how scared she is, and balks at the sight of Lucina. She touches her gently on the arm to alert her of her presence, and Lucina smiles woozily.

"The others are close by, just over that hill in a little grove." Nah informs Severa, and this time she can't quite stop the tears from spilling out of the corners of her eyes.

"Is Cynthia ok? Morgan?" She chokes out.

"Yes, they're both fine. Worried sick about the two of you, but alive." Nah says reassuringly.

"Thank the gods." Severa says quietly. Sniffling deeply. Lucina's crying too, smiling through her tears, though Severa's sure she's barely aware of what's happening.

"We've got to get Lucina there, quick. She needs to be properly treated." Severa says rapidly, momentary relief giving way to anxiety as Lucina's head lolls onto her shoulder.

"What's wrong with her? How bad is it?" Nah asks, but Severa doesn't spare the time to answer.

"You're not big enough to fly her there, so help me get her onto my back. I'll be able to carry her faster that way. Then show us the way and keep a lookout for any Risen." She's all business again, and it's out of fear. Nah nods, and on the count of three eases Lucina up and on to Severa's back. Her right arm dangles uselessly over Severa's shoulder, and her left weakly wraps around to grab hold of her collar. It's almost worse, now, because Severa can hear Lucina's breath wheezing in her ear, smell the blood and sweat on her. Nah transforms and flings herself back into the sky, soaring in the direction of the other survivors. Severa takes a deep breath, before resolutely setting off after her. Lucina's heavy, and only gets heavier as they go on, but she doesn't slow her pace. She matches her breathing to Lucina's, as if somehow that would make hers stay steady, force her not to stop. She thought she knew fear when she carried Lucina to safety the first time but she thinks this must be worse. She's too close to her goal to fail now. She fixes her eyes on Nah's reptilian figure as she cuts through the dust, and keeps putting one foot in front of the other.

Brady laughs about matching scars when he sees Lucina again. Lucina laughs too, laughs of anguish and joy and relief, before she breaks down crying again at the sight of those still alive to greet her. She's barely conscious by the time they get her to the med tent. Morgan rushes over when he hears the news. Severa holds him back because Brady has Lucina lying on a cot and there's so much blood on her face that Severa thinks she won't make it after all, but Brady assures her it'll be okay. The wounds are bad but they got Luci to him before it was too late to fix her. He pulls out one of the last few mending staffs for the occasion.

"Kick me in the nads, what the hell did you do to her arm, Sev?" He asks, when he cuts the makeshift bandages from her shoulder. It's a deep, angry red, and has puckered into bumps where the arrowhead was lodged. Severa doesn't answer. Morgan clings to her hand and bites his lip. Cynthia bursts into the tent, face streaming and throws herself on Severa, and then Brady kicks them all out so he can focus on his work without them "sobbin' all over the patient." Cynthia and Severa hold each other and whisper apologies into the others' hair, and by the time night falls, Severa's certain she's cried herself dry. That's when relief turns to anger.

"Where the fuck did you all go? You left her to die!" She screams it from the top of their makeshift dining table and everyone else stares up at her with wide eyes, not knowing how to respond. Kjelle abruptly gets to her feet, followed by Owain, both smoldering with barely restrained anger.

"You think we wanted to leave?!"

"We had to get the survivors to safety-"

"We thought you two were DEAD!" Severa thinks that what they're saying probably makes sense, but she's too hurt and angry to see it, so she doesn't stop the barbed curses from slipping through her mouth, until Owain, Kjelle and Gerome have hold of her. Then she simply screams, beating on their armor with her fists to no avail, as they drag her away to cool off, and Kjelle holds her in an awkward hug until she quiets down. Severa's crying again, and it's messy and hot and she hates it. She hugs Kjelle back, pressing her face into the cool metal of her chestplate. She's shaking, harder than she's ever done. Lucina could have died, and that fact keeps sinking in, overwhelming and terrifying. Kjelle keeps her anchored, not letting go until Severa pulls away to breathe, and wipes at her eyes, upset that she can't stop the flow of tears.

"I really am sorry," Kjelle says softly. "But you know why we had to go, don't you?" Severa stares her down.

"I know," She says, voice hoarse but steady. "But that doesn't mean I can forgive you for leaving her."

Lucina is forbidden from holding Falchion for weeks, until her shoulder can handle it. She grins ruefully the first time she sees the extent of the damage. They had tried to keep the burn small at the time, but it still extends from her armpit to the top of her shoulder, bright pink with raised bumps and ridges. It stretches taught when she moves, and the tiny creases of pain in the corners of her eyes give her away when she assures Severa it doesn't hurt anymore. When Brady finally gives her leave to practice with Falchion again, she finds that she can't do half the fancy moves and maneuvers she used to be able to snap off with ease. Lucina says that it doesn't bother her. She can still swing the damn thing, can still fight and that's what matters. Severa doesn't believe her, but she says nothing. The bigger worry is the scar that splits her brow and leaves an angry line over her eyelid. The eye beneath is a milky, faded gray. Sightless. The only hint of blue left is the brand of the Exalt, still brilliantly emblazoned in the middle.

"Maybe if she'd actually lost the damn arm she'd know she has to be more careful," Severa scoffs to Noire, the two of them drawing buckets of water from a pond coated in sickly green algae. "As it is, she'll try and do it like she has been and get hurt worse."

"I-I mean…" Noire says quietly, looking sparing a quick glance over at Severa before focusing back on the task at hand. "I think- even if she had lost it, it wouldn't change much…"

"Tch," Severa pulls her second bucket up with enough force to splash water on her trousers, and throws it to the ground in frustration.

"Sorry," Noire sheepishly reaches down to pat at Severa's knee with her handkerchief, as if that would do anything, and Severa pulls away.

"Not your fault. Leave it alone," Severa snaps, before forcing out a tight breath and looking up at the bloody horizon line. "It's not like you're wrong, anyway."

"She's just like that…"

"She's just like that. What an idiot."

"Well,"

"What?"

"N-nevermind."

"No, what were you going to say? Tell me."

"I just… I was just going to say that you're not all that different, actually…" Noire fiddles with the handle of one of the buckets, ducking her head to escape Severa's ire.

"What the fuck!?" Severa's voice leaps higher in indignation. "Are you calling me stupid?"

"N-no! No!" Noire waves her hands placatingly.

"Then what are you implying?"

"I just meant- the- the good things."

"The good-" her breath hisses through her teeth. "Oh, which good things were you referencing? Her self-sacrificing nature? Bravery? Skill with the sword? Oh, come on, she's fucking royalty for Gods sakes. Don't even fucking try to compare us."

"That's not…" Noire rubs at her face, sighing.

"I already know she's better than me, alright? No need to pity me, let me call her an idiot when she's being one, and leave me the fuck alone!" Severa hoists two buckets of water off the ground - one with only half its contents - and storms off back to camp, sloshing more over the sides as she does. Noire stares at the remaining two, brow heavy and lower lip trembling with hurt. She violently kicks a bucket over and wrings out her handkerchief, face growing stormy.

"Ooh, you make it so hard to be your friend, Sev," she mutters under her breath. She follows not long after.