Severa wiped her brow. She was sweating a lot, and her forehead looked like a waterfall from the sheer amount of water that was falling from it. Enough training for her today.

While she shared her father's bizarre orange hair, most of her genetics she had inherited from her mother. And while her mother seemed to be sweating as much as her, she seemed much more glorious than her. Like she'd just gone out of a shower, not repeatedly beaten a training dummy to smithereens.

She went to grab a towel to try to reduce the mass of sweat that was coming off from her, and when she reached the towel, she noticed a hand picking up another towel to her right.

"Oh, hello, Severa!"

Marc, cheery as always. His greenish hair had soaked up so much water it looked like it turned brown. She had a bit of a weird relationship with him. For starters, she did have a bit of a crush on him before… that, and she was extremely vocal when the group was deciding whether to bring his sister, Morgan, or him.

One had to stay, because otherwise they'd still be puppets of Grima.

And that was not good.

On the other hand, she had distanced herself from everyone, and breaking her façade was not a good thing – everyone knew Severa as the girl who'd be needy, manipulative, assertive, sarcastic and who took pleasure in destroying others' lives.

That was not herself. Not the true self, that is. The one uncertain of nearly anything, the one that repeatedly tried to reach her mother's level of skill in anything she tried. From her experience with the current Cordelia, she seemed more like Sumia than Sully, more of the "caring mother" and less "drill sergeant". That was a bit different from how she imagined her mother.

"Hello, Marc. Still daydreaming about your mother?"

His mother was Robin, the Shepherds' tactician, role model to Marc – and he had an unhealthy fascination with reaching her level of skill. It reminded Severa of herself, actually.

"Very funny."

"Well, someone likes my jokes."

"C'mon, don't act like you're not obsessed with being as great as your parents, too. If I'm not mistaken, you're the one who is the most obsessed with being as her."

That caught her off-guard. Somehow, Marc, who had amnesia and had been in the Shepherds for less than a year, had managed to figure out that she did look down on herself for not being as great as her mother was.

"And now you're blushing like a tomato and you don't have a snarky response to me. That's not the Severa I know.

"S-shut up."

Were those… tears forming in her eyes?

"Relax, I also look down on myself a lot for not being like mother."

"Are you being serious right now?"

"Everyone looks to your mother as if she's perfect, right? Well, everyone who came from the future seems to look to their mothers and fathers like they're some sort of powerful entity. Heck, I do that, and I don't remember what's happened to me during nearly my entire life. But you don't. You react to everyone like if they're constantly judging you, comparing you to your mother, which you see as this sort of goddess of all that is holy, and you don't want to be compared to someone that you think is that great. Then again, that's just a theory."

"How did you know?"

"You speak while you sleep."

"What? You heard me sleeping?"

"I had to guard the camp a few days ago, and from the place where I was guarding to my tent, there was your tent. Turns out, you were babbling while you slept, and so I stopped a bit to overhear it.

"You bastard…"

"Heh, gotta figure out something about you. But, in all seriousness, we – well, at least I – don't compare you to your mother. A bit, but not in the sense you think."

Severa sat against a rock. This was going to be long. At least it was Marc she was talking to. She felt like she could rely on him, if she focused on that familiar face of his.

"Everyone used to say that my mother was perfect. The physical embodiment of perfection. As a result, I always sort of looked up to her. She died when I was very young. My father had a bit of a sarcastic streak, and growing up with him made me very much like him in that regard. I started responding to everything with snark. It was not good for me. People started distancing themselves from me. I entered this vicious cycle of "I screwed up, and mother would hate me right now". I just couldn't deal with it, and as you can see, I still can't."

"You don't need to be like your mother. Our mothers and fathers, they're all very great, I'll give you that. But… we're ourselves. I get that you and I, in particular, think of our mothers as some kind of mystical being. And that might be wrong, who knows. I just want you to know that at least I don't see you like that. And I think you're amazing."

Severa rested her head on his shoulder. It felt relaxing, and she felt as if every worry in her body just slipped away.

"Uhm, Severa? You're smiling, and you usually don't smile."

"It's nice knowing that at least someone likes me."

"Heh, I don't think a lot of people like me, personally. I don't really do anything out of the usual."

"You're really like your father, you know? Even without your memories. Stahl was always going around saying that he was just doing the usual. Everyone liked him, and yet he was pretty sure only you and Robin liked him. Heck, he even doubted that you, his own son, liked him at times. He hated seeing people down, and always tried to keep everyone up. He was one of the few people who tried to help me."

"Who were the others?"

"Well, Gaius didn't mind, mainly because I learned that from him, but the other one who did was you."

"Oh."

"And now you're the one blushing."

"You know, there's one thing I lied about how I figured out that."

"What?"

"It happened quite some time ago. Like, months ago."

"And…"

"And I just felt I had to help you somehow."

"You always feel like you have to help everyone somehow. I mean, you're the only person who deals with Owain's ramblings, and takes them even a little bit seriously."

"But... This time, I think it was different. Before I noticed, I started developing feelings for you, and two days ago, I went a similar path, and…"

"What?"

"You said you loved me on your sleep. I decided to try to find the courage to speak with you."

She looked to Marc. His young, joyful face… The slightly overgrown moss-colored hair. The determined look in his eyes. He, just in general, felt very handsome to her.

"Aren't you going to throw me some snark?"

"Why would I? You're the first person who actually liked me in that sense. And I'd rather stay with you than anyone here."

He turned to her, looking into her eyes, and pulled her closer to him. Severa followed his lead, and let herself closer to Marc. Her lips connected with his, and they shared a long kiss. Severa's, and presumably, Marc's first. And Severa felt that she didn't need to be her mother.

She just needed to be Severa.