The first thing they'd promised upon Grima's defeat was that the new Severa would have an easier life than her older self. Cordelia swore she wouldn't let her little girl be belittled or made to feel inferior no matter how well she herself did, and Kellam swore he would find a balance between making her happy and being firm with her.

Cordelia's end of the bargain was the easy one. Every time Severa did something well, she made a point of praising her. Anytime she made a mistake, Cordelia would correct her. If she misbehaved, she was scolded gently. No one was allowed to make a big deal of Cordelia's accomplishments, nor did Cordelia bring them up unless Severa asked. So far, this was working. Severa was still a cheeky little thing but she lacked the self-esteem issues her older self had.

It was Kellam who had the hard job. How, exactly, did a father give his daughter everything she deserved without spoiling her? He hated saying no to her; every time she gave him those big adoring puppy eyes he wanted to say screw it and let her go out and play before her chores were done, eat sweets before dinner, spend a whole weekend camping in the woods with Lucina and Cynthia. And he knew Cordelia felt the same way even if discipline was easier for her.

But he knew they couldn't. Kids needed boundaries, they wouldn't do her any favors in the long run by giving her whatever she wanted. So he said no, dealt with her pouting and begging and crocodile tears and felt guilty.

"I know, Kellam," Cordelia sighed after he'd told her once again that yes, she had to finish doing the dishes before she could go visit Lucina. "I feel bad about it, too. I think we all do. After all the trouble their older selves had to go through in the future that could have been, they deserve to have whatever they want and then some."

"So why can't they? Why can't we just...you know, let them run their own lives?" he asked, listening to the angry clattering of dishes and flatware against the countertops.

"Because children still need guidelines and limits," Cordelia said. "Even when we're not fighting a war or standing up to a dark God, people need to learn to give and take in order to get along in life."

"Yeah, I know..." Kellam sighed. "And she's dealing with it better than her older self did. Least this one hasn't said I ought to drown her in a sack anytime she makes a mistake. And she's not as spoiled or demanding, either."

"Which is why this is exactly the right thing to do," Cordelia said. "We both know she'll be better off in the long run if we set certain limits." She smiled. "It's what all normal families do, after all." Normal families. Kellam smiled, he'd been so used to fighting in a war, fighting alongside a girl fleeing a future where her parents died and left her all alone that it kept coming as a surprise to him that they were, indeed, normal.

"You're right," he said. "And hey, I'm handling it better than my parents did whenever I was a brat, so that's a step in the right-"

A crash interrupted their conversation, followed by a loud scream of exasperation.

"Daaa-ddyyyyy! I beg of you, let me go see Lucina and escape these awful, awful dishes!" Kellam exchanged a weary look with his wife. So much for doing the right thing and raising a happier daughter.

"Come on, honey, can't we let her go just this once? She's suffering!"

"Now, dear," Cordelia said, trying to look less guilty than she obviously felt, "we're not doing her any favors if we-"

Another crash, another cry, and his wife cringed.

"On...second thought, perhaps just this once we can give her a break!" She hurried into the kitchen and Kellam followed her, unable to keep from laughing a little. Given the choice between going back on their own rules and needing a whole new set of dishes, letting her go play with Lucina was a lot less expensive.