Full summary: "I have a plan," Symonne said calmly. "And in order to execute my plan I can't have Alisha dead just yet. So control yourself until then. I'll let you know when you are free to shred her to your heart's content.

"Reaching Sorey is no longer an option it seems, so I've had to make some adjustments." Symonne let out a rigid breath. "What matters is that I got what I came to the Elaine Ruins for. You don't need to worry about the rest, unless I tell you to."

Lunarre let out a high-pitched whine that turned into a hyena's laugh. "Whatever you say, boss. I can still find ways to have fun."

...

After the King's and Bartlow's death, Hyland is without a head of state. Its political elite are divided and anti-peace extremists endanger the fragile truce with Rolance, calling for a war that could herald a second Age of Chaos. Alisha struggles to secure peace between the two countries at any cost, and Rose dangerously toes the line between a Shepherd's duty and what's personal.

A/N: I honestly have no idea how I feel about this story, but I hope you enjoy it either way! Constructive criticism is welcome. If you want to read just the first chapter for some AliRose fluff, that's fine. After that things get a lot darker for the rest of the story. That's not to say there aren't sprinkles of fluff, but it's not a fluffy story. For reasons of development, I wanted to rewrite some of Alisha and Rose's fight in the inn, so forgive the bit of recap, but it's all new material after that. :) Oh! It is strongly recommended you play Alisha's DLC or at least know what happens before reading this story.

...

Chapter One

After the initial shock of being slapped across the face by the princess wore off – and it wore pretty quickly – Rose was surprised to find that it actually hurt. A lot. And in the briefest moment of awareness before this was about to escalate into an all-out brawl was that Alisha's strength shouldn't have been a surprise at all. Alisha wielded a spear larger than she was. Yet despite this astonishing acknowledgement (except not really) and the fact that said princess was still wearing her armor, it was not enough stop Rose from slapping back. Even though it really should have.

Rose made to shove Alisha away, Alisha shoved back. Hard. The door rattled on hits hinges as Rose's weight collided with it. And then she tackled the knight princess to the floor with a thud loud enough to concern the neighbors but not enough to bring someone knocking on their door. Blows followed where angry words were exchanged.

Alisha had Rose pinned beneath her. Her normally well-kept hair was wrestling free of its ponytail. Her green eyes were still vibrant in shadow of the curtain of her hair, and her hairline was visibly sleek with sweat. Her expression, tired yet unyielding. It pissed Rose off. Rose swung a leg outward, catching Alisha's. The sandy blonde stumbled, her hip thunking into the floorboards as she fell at an angle, and for a brief second her chest fell heavy against Rose's before the merchant/assassin grabbed hold of the pale pink collar of Alisha's custom uniform and reversed their positions.

Alisha saw stars as her head hit the floor. She could feel her hair plastered to her face, the carefully styled curl unraveled with the weight of her perspiration. It was satisfying to see Rose just as out of breath, yet satisfaction was dimmed by her disadvantageous position on the floor.

"Give up yet, Princess?" Rose still managed to sound cocky through the rasping breaths she needed to be able to speak. She tossed her head to one side, and rolled her shoulder against one cheek in a vain attempt to tuck at least some of her hair behind her ear.

"You know I won't." Alisha struggled to convey her conviction despite her own breathlessness. "I don't care if you're not the one to tell me, but I'm going to go with you and I will find out what happened to Sorey."

Rose frowned. Her grip went just a little slack. The princess knight's chest rose and fell as her lungs fought to restore their wind with heaving breaths. That her breathing was so visible made Rose briefly wonder what exactly kind of armor was beneath that pink tunic.

Alisha's eyes fell shut. When she blinked back up at Rose, fresh tears escaped the corners. Alisha raised an arm to wipe the them away, forgetting her gauntlets. She winced as the metal scraped her face. Her arm flopped lifelessly to the floor again, a delirious chuckle passing her lips.

" 'Can't even wipe my own tears – how pathetic I must be,' right?" One corner of Rose's mouth was tugged upward.

Alisha audibly gasped in outraged protest. "Don't presume to read my mind!"

Their whole scrabble, Alisha's brow had been knit with frustration and determination, but now her eyes were afire with genuine anger. Rose swallowed, the amusement falling from her lips like an avalanche.

At Rose's apparent change of tune, Alisha's ire dissolved as swiftly as it had risen. Her whole face softened into a painful canvas of hurt – physical and emotional.

By now Rose's hands had relaxed to the point where they had been resting gently on Alisha's shoulders, feeling hard armor beneath them. The princess' tears were still flowing. It was almost an automatic gesture on Rose's part – she hated crying, and she hated when other people cried. Rose relocated her hand to Alisha's cheek, using the pad of her callused thumb to brush away the little droplets of moisture. Awareness and embarrassment were slow to kick in as Alisha's eyes widened. Rose snatched her hand back as if the tears had been acid. Her hovered helplessly in the air – long enough for Alisha to notice the smear of blood on the palm.

"Rose, your hand!" Alisha shot upright, grabbing Rose by the wrist and bringing it within inches of her face without any consideration for the positioning for the rest of the body.

Rose's balance betrayed her and she fumbled into into Alisha's lap with an "oomph," her head pressed forcefully to Alisha's hard, metal-reinforced chest.

"Yes, it's a hand, now kindly give it back because I am so uncomfortable right now," said Rose, fighting against the other woman's iron grip.

"S-sorry!" Only now realizing the awkard angle at which Rose's neck was being bent. Alisha practically threw Rose's hand from her grasp and scrambled to her feet.

Rose's support was now gone, leaving her to collapse into an uncoordinated heap. She took her time standing up, stretching and working her muscles. She rolled her neck to each side, gently massaging. In no particular hurry, Rose turned her hand over to see what the fuss was about.

"It's just a scratch." Rose shrugged.

"You must have cut it on my armor; allow me to take responsibility," said Alisha. Her tone brooked little room for argument.

In two heavy, kathunking steps, Alisha was directly in front of Rose with her gloved hands cradling Rose's naked one. It wasn't the only blemish on the redhead's hand. It was covered in tiny scars. Thin lines of white and pink, some straight while others hooked and curved. Not much unlike my own, Alisha mused.

"You know, I think Lailah could probably handle that better." Rose used her free hand to absently scratch behind an ear.

Alisha's fingers sprung open. "Sorry. You're probably right."

"Lailah?" Rose called out.

"Of course," Lailah answered.

"Rose." Alisha ventured as Lailah began to weave her seraphic arte. With the fight out of their system maybe there was hope for conversation. Just maybe.

"What? I already told you-"

"I wasn't going to ask about Sorey!" The words came out harsher than anticipated. Alisha winced, and took a deep breath to regain control over her voice. "I was just wondering... why don't you wear gloves?"

Rose's brow furrowed comically. Alisha bit back a tiny smile.

"What do you mean?" asked Rose. "That's an odd question."

"I couldn't help but notice how many scars there were on your hand."

"So?" Rose lifted a brow, irritation creeping into her tone.

"I have a few myself, but the gloves help to prevent it."

Rose made a humming noise that Alisha chose to interpret as understanding rather than the more likely disapproval of such a reason for wearing gloves.

"I have worn gloves, but not because I care about scars. I don't. It's not like anyone is examining your hand that closely."

"But as a girl..." Alisha didn't want to finish the sentence. She knew how ridiculous it sounded now that it was halfway out of her mouth.

"Eeeh, if my scars are a deal breaker, then that shallow tool isn't worth my time."

Alisha stared at her hand. Did that make her shallow?

"Show me your hand," Rose said. It was a command, but not given harshly.

Lailah was finished healing now and took a step away from Rose.

With some reserve, Alisha began to unbuckle her gauntlets. Very carefully she unsheathed her right hand and presented it to Rose, knuckles facing skyward. Rose appeared to examine it closely.

"Palm up."

Alisha obeyed, expecting at any moment for Rose to take her hand in hers. When it didn't happen, she found she was a bit disappointed for some reason.

"I suppose the gloves help, but you're not so unblemished yourself there, Princess," Rose jabbed when she had finished her inspection.

Alisha bristled slightly. Rose only used her title when she was being patronizing. Alisha hastily stuffed her hand back into her gloves, not caring she was just going to remove them for bed soon anyway.

"It's not like I have a choice," the princess huffed. "If I'm to be a respectable stateswoman of noble blood, I need to at least look like one even if I can't act it. Most princesses you read about don't pick up a weapon. But I have to keep my hands at least somewhat clean if I'm going to- to- let it be" she grimaced at the next word "kissed by dignitaries of a lower station."

Rose's eyes widened considerably before her shock dissolved into mirth and a struggle to stop laughter from escaping as she spoke. "Wait. You mean people really do that? Kiss your ring and all that garbage?"

"They do," Alisha muttered and stared blankly at the wall, drawing up a recent memory of a nobleman whose apparent cold had not prevented him from sharing his germs with her. Really! If you're sick, don't go spreading it around. You'd think it was common sense. She'd wanted to disinfect her entire house after that. "And nine times out of ten, it's gross. They leave saliva on you, or they linger for far too long. Hardly anyone gets it right and isn't gross. It's not a custom I'm fond of, but it does make you appreciate the ones who don't make you want to gag."

When Alisha retrieved her focus and cast it upon Rose, she found the other woman looking rather amused.

"What?" Alisha fidgeted inwardly under Rose's gaze, hoping her self-consciousness was not betrayed by the color of her cheeks.

"I'm just impressed," said Rose. "I've heard you go on about your mission to right the wrongs of the world, but I don't think I've ever heard you vent a good old rant. Like about normal stuff. Feel good to get it off your chest?"

A momentary reflection told Alisha that it had. She tucked her chin toward her chest like a sort of half-nod and allowed herself the tiniest of smiles.

…

Generally, Rose was good at keeping her mind on task but as the two roamed through Lastonbell looking for trouble, the scene from that morning looped on replay. She was glad Alisha had taken the lead, because she didn't want to Alisha to see the unsuppressible grin Rose wore as she remembered Alisha's terrified shriek as the bedsheets had been torn off of her. The way she'd dove after them like they were her lifeline. Her round, beautifully curved, and extremely naked bottom as she'd landed on her stomach and scrambled to crawl beneath them once more. There was nothing that could be done to stop Rose's roaring laughter that followed.

"No wonder you asked for your own room." Rose had wiped away a tear. "And here I thought you were just too good to sleep with us common folk. You sleep naked in the barracks too?"

"Sh-shut up!" cried the lump under the sheets. "Of course not!"

Rose just laughed harder, picturing it in her head.

…

Past the threshhold of their room at the Lastonbell inn, Alisha stretched her arms above her head, sighing.

"I can't wait to get out of these clothes," she said. "They're so cumbersome."

"So you've said," Rose remarked. "I just can't wait to shower."

"That makes two of us," Alisha smiled at her.

Alisha cast aside her clothes with none of the self-consciousness she'd displayed before. Rose made a point of looking away.

"You go first," Rose offered. "I'll go after you."

And so it went. As a courtesy, the seraphim had vacated their vessels as they did when Rose got changed or showered. Sometimes Zaveid put up a protest, but was always short-lived, with Mikleo and Edna displaying a rare feat of teamwork in dragging Zaveid out with them.

When Rose emerged from the shower into the bedroom Alisha was already in her night clothes, and her hair was in a most unprincess-like state. It hung from her head in half-damp clumps with amazing frizzle. Upon hearing the door open, Alisha turned, catching Rose's wicked grin.

A flattering shade of pink dusted Alisha's cheeks and she quickly looked away. She threw the towel over her head and ruffled it furiously against her unruly hair.

"If I brush it right away, it just spreads all the water around and takes forever to dry," Alisha pouted.

"Advantage one million and ten to having short hair: it dries quickly." Alisha towel-dried her own head.

"But looks just as ridiculous unbrushed," Alisha giggled at the frizz poking every which way from her companion's head. "And I highly doubt there are anywhere close to a million advantages of having short hair."

"Have you ever had your hair short?" Rose raised her most critical and judgy eyebrow.

"Not that I can recall," Alisha admitted.

"Then don't knock it 'til you've tried it." Rose stuck her tongue out playfully.

Seemingly out of nowhere Alisha clapped her hands together and proposed "We should do each other's hair!"

Rose blinked.

"It is one of the safer activities of the dangerous slumber party, yes? I should like to try it."

Rose sighed in resignation, offering a fond smile to her friend – who reciprocated with such warmth and gaiety, Rose felt her own cheeks flush a little.

"I've never done someone else's hair before." Alisha's fingers danced nervously in her lap. It was rather cute.

There it was, Rose admitted it. Alisha was cute. The way she chattered on while she ran a brush through Rose's hair was cute, her laugh her smile her everything. Rose wondered when she began to feel that way. It didn't matter, she decided.

"I started doing my own hair probably when I was around ten or eleven," said Alisha. "Before that, of course, I'd had maids do my hair."

"Standard procedure for the fancy-shmancy high-born," said Rose, twisting her head to look up at Alisha.

It could easily have been one of her jabs at Alisha's status in society, but it lacked any of the usual bite.

"Yes."

The ease with which the brush glided away from her scalp told Rose her turn was almost done. Her hair was too short to take any significant amount of time.

"So what made you decide to change that?" Rose asked, in hopes of distractng her. The seraphim had yet to return from... wherever. It was just the two of them. If a thousand and one questions could stall this moment from ever ending, she'd ask them all. Truth be told, she'd never had a sleepover before either. Every night was like a sleepover with the Sparrowfeathers.

"I started because it didn't seem right that I should have others do something for me that I should learn how to do myself. I shouldn't trouble someone else to do something so seemingly simple. That was why initially, anyway. But that changed."

"It did?"

"It did."

Rose could imagine Alisha nodding, her hair bobbing merrily with the movement.

"I eventually realized that it was a silly reason," Alisha let out an affectionate sigh directed at her childhood self.

Rose chuckled. "Doing your hair was part of their job. They got paid to do it."

"Exactly. But..." Alisha paused. "By then I liked doing it because it made me feel grown up, I guess."

Rose noiselessy reveled in her success, Alisha had been mindlessly brushing, yet to use a single hair clip.

"Do you ever miss it?" Question number three already. Nine hundred and ninety-eight left to go.

"I had this one maid. Marion," said Alisha as she set the brush down much to Rose's dismay. "Sometimes when I woke up early and if she had extra time before her other duties, she would give me a little massage."

Alisha demonstrated. Her naked fingers raking slowly through Roses hair to apply gentle pressure in a circular motion.

"Oooh, that feels nice," Rose hummed, following up with an obviously fake snore.

A melodic giggle bubbled from Alisha. "I know, right?"

As Alisha's hands migrated over Rose's scalp, Rose began to find herself falling on this side of sleep. Rose thought she might melt under Alisha's touch and wanted to cling to this moment for eternity, but eventually Alisha picked up the brush again. Before long, she was sliding the last clip into place.

"What do you think?" Alisha's asked, reaching over Rose's shoulder to thrust a hand mirror in front of Rose. The action brought her flush with Rose's back.

The warmth from Alisha's body coursed through Rose, sending color to her cheeks. Rose furiously tried to hide it. She made exaggerated efforts to see as much of the back of her head in the mirror as possible. It really wasn't bad. A few well-placed hair clips created the illusion of having more hair, twisted and pinned tightly to her head. Some locks still hung freely to frame her face.

"It's really good. Very elegant." Rose gave Alisha broad grin in the mirror, having recovered from some of her earlier embarassment.

Alisha, having caught the hitch of hesitation before the reply, prodded Rose. "I'm sensing a but in there."

This side of Alisha, the one comfortable enough with her to playfully stab Rose in the shoulder with her fingers in pursuit of the full truth, was probably Rose's favorite. Definitely better than being slapped in the face for the truth.

"It's really not me," Rose added a little sheepishly.

Pleased laughter erupted from Alisha. "No, it really isn't!"

"Okay, okay." Rose swatted the mirror away. "No more making fun of me."

She stood, patting the spot on the edge of the bed where she'd been sitting. Alisha slid into it, her legs dangling happy off the side while she sat patiently with her hands in her lap.

"Now, I don't know how do anything fancy like your curly bangs or ponytail -"

"That's all right," Alisha interjected her reassurances.

"- or anything at all really," Rose continued where she'd left off.

"That's fine."

Rose bravely equipped the brush and went to work. She took greath length to be as gentle as possible, always working from the bottom up – none of the rough yanking she subjected herself to out of sheer laziness. Alisha's hair was far softer than it had any right to be. Impulse begged Rose to toss her arms around Alisha and bury her face into her silky hair. Rose stayed the impulse, redirecting her thoughts to what she should do with Alisha's hair.

"How about..." Rose began.

"Spoiling the surprise?" Alisha teased.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Rose bit back a goofy smile. She really loved Alisha like this. "Would Her Highness like a massage as well?"

"Oh, yes, please and thank you!" Alisha clapped her hands in delight. "It's been forever."

Rose was more than happy to oblige, prolonging this moment. Alisha exhaled a blissful sigh in response to Rose's gentle fingers. Rose experimentally scritched behind the princess's ear. Alisha practically purred, and Rose's entire body was lit on fire as she tried not to think about such a sound being illicited in other, more intimate contexts. Rose shook away such thoughts as best she could and went back to the task at hand. Braids were simple, right? Then a braid it would be.

The silence hung over Rose like an iron curtain. She didn't like being made so aware of her own racing heart. In a desperate attempt to lift it, she asked "Has anyone ever kissed you that you liked?"

Rose immediately regretted asking it.

She earned a surprised and flustered "huh?"

Rose observed Alisha's ears turning a vibrant shade of red.

"On the hand, I mean!" Rose swallowed. "You said it was usually gross but sometimes not. Was there anyone that, um, was more than just not gross?" As she reframed it, it occurred to her that it really wasn't a better question.

"O-oh." Alisha nodded her understanding but didn't say anything further. Her framed slumped forward by a centimeter.

"Alisha?"

"There was one." Alisha didn't sound happy to talk about it.

"You don't have to -"

"No, it's fine. He was a low-ranking lord who owned land out in the country. I was pleased at the time. He was my first kiss kiss too. But he dropped me like I was plagued once he learned that I wasn't next in line for the throne despite my title."

"What a slimebag." Rose made a gagging sound.

"Yes. I'm better off without a shallow tool like him." Alisha turned to share a gleaming smile.

"Much better. Now stop stealing my lines and turn around so I can do your hair," said Rose.

"Yes, ma'am!"

Braiding was not quite that simple it turned out as it had taken three tries to not look completely like it had been done by a child.

"Now, don't laugh," Rose said as she held out the mirror. She was careful to not press herself into Alisha's back.

"It's wonderful." Alisha flipped the braid over her shoulder to see its reflection and ran her hands along it.

"You can tell me the truth, you know."

"It is the truth. Thank you."

A terrible, comfortable silence settled between them. To Rose's joyous dismay, Alisha casually leaned into Rose, turning to lay her head on Rose's shoulder. The strap of Alisha's night gown had slid to reveal Alisha's delicate and perfect collarbone. Rose's entire being stilled except the relentless assault her heart raged on her rib cage.

Alisha heard Lailah and the others chattering in the hall as they approached the door. She gently slid off the bed, but not before one last soothing breath to savor Rose's unique scent mingled with the soft florals of soap. Alisha's eyes remained on the rug at the end of the bed as her feet touched it. Her fingers curled loosely around Rose's.

"I'm glad we could spend time together like this." Alisha gave Rose's hand a squeeze, adding more softly, "Just the two of us."

Those words struck Rose with a terrible impulse. She wondered if she should act on it. After all, what was life without risk. Boring, Rose liked to say. Being part of the Sparrowfeathers' had taught her that risks, particularly well-calculated ones, could pay off better than you possibly dreamed. Perhaps this one wasn't as carefully planned as other leaps she'd taken, but screw it, she wanted to.

Rose squeezed back.

Alisha then felt her hand being lifted and then Rose's soft mouth was pressed to Alisha's knuckles.

She remained hopelessly fixated on Rose's face, electricity firing from head to toe. Her own lips trembled with a question she didn't know how to articuleate Her free hand was clutched against her chest to keep her heart from beating out of its confines.

Then it was over and Alisha shivered as her hand slipped into cold, empty air. Rose's bright blue eyes tethered Alisha's gaze to hers.

"So which category do I fall into?" Rose asked.

Alisha blinked with helpless confusion. "Sorry?"

"Gross or not gross?" Rose fought to train her face into nonchalance.

The door then flew open, plugging Alisha's reply.

"My lovely ladies, am I in time for the pillow fight?" Zaveid spreads his arms wide. "Zaveid is ready!"

"Um, how does one partake in this Pil-Oh fight?" Alisha had a quizzical finger to her chin.

Oh how easily the topic changes, Rose lamented. She mentally shook it off.

"Allow me to demonstrate." Rose grinned.

Her aim was superb. Zaveid roared with laughter as the pillow bounced off his face.

"Challenge accepted!" he cried.

...

A/N: Thank you for reading this far! I apologize for the lack of seraphim in this chapter, but I really wanted this chapter to focus on Alisha and Rose. Again, constructive criticism please! Are Rose and Alisha in character? Do I need to add more feelings? Are there too many? etc etc