She helped rebuild Burmecia. She made an effort to rebuild her life with Sir Fratley. She wanted to rebuild something that was taken from her, something that had been missing even before hand. She desperately needed a turn for the better.
But every time Sir Fratley held her she could only think of the loss. His memory was no longer intact, and where he swore he loved her he couldn't even begin to fathom the pain she felt. He loved what she had become, as that was the only Freya he knew, and perhaps the only one he could. When the festivities in Alexandria were days away Freya asked Fratley to take care of Burmecia. She simply could not be near him. Every ounce of this place was causing her pain. She did her part, and no one thought ill of her leaving. Perhaps when she found herself again she would return. Her heart wasn't at peace, and where it hurt Fratley to see her go, he accepted her need of space.
Her journey started at Alexandria, and much like her first journey it didn't take long for Zidane to appear. She thought he was dead, and where she herself wanted to punch him just as hard as Dagger was, he was all hers. It was similar to how she envisioned her reunion with Sir Fratley long ago.
She was surprised a moment later to find Amarant clapping as well. There was nothing to betray his usual stoic and tough attitude in his eyes, but somehow he, too, was caught in the heat of applause. It didn't end there either.
Later that evening he sat beside her in the pub and ordered a drink. He was in a good mood, justifying it in that he would one day be able to challenge Zidane once more. Men who came back from the dead usually came back stronger, and wiser. It was all he cared to talk about, which was fine. Freya didn't feel like discussing her feelings. What she felt like doing was traveling to the corner of the world farthest from her problems.
"Where are you off to next?" said Freya, after having chugged a considerable amount of ale. Amarant raised an eyebrow.
"Wherever there's a good challenge. Where else?"
"Why, you don't have to look much farther than under your nose for that." Freya grabbed her spear, and the bartender told them to take it outside. They were happy to oblige, as this was typically how they communicated. When they headed out back and struck their first blows Freya was filled with adrenaline and more. More than she had felt in years, and she lost herself in it.