It was close to midnight yet Roche hadn't come to Tigris' chambers. The princess was forced to sit on the edge of her bed, weary after a full twenty four hours with no rest, waiting for her fool of a maid to do her damn job. The bed wasn't turned down, Tigris hadn't bathed, and she was stuck in her stupid day gown. Any worry she'd felt for Roche earlier had been replaced by irritation.

"Unbelievable," Tigris grumbled as she contorted in front of her bathroom mirror, trying to unhook the back of the gown. Some of the fragile snaps fell to the floor with loud rips. With a frustrated growl, Tigris found a dagger and used the tip to slice off the rest of the clasps. Roche could fix it in the morning, she thought triumphantly. It would serve the maid right for leaving Tigris to do her job.

A knock sounded at the door, tentative and soft, so unlike the sharp raps of the knights. For a moment, Tigris thought it might be Roche, but she quickly did away with that thought. Roche didn't knock on her doors before barging in.

Tigris still wasn't sure whether it was because of her poor manners or her genuine lack of care for basic decency.

She fumbled to slip on her nightgown, tugging the soft fabric down her chest before pulling open the doors.

"Yes?" she asked bluntly, fighting back a yawn.

In front of her was a trembling, adolescent boy dressed in a variety of mismatching leathers. He gazed up at her fearfully.

"A-are you Princess Tigris?" he asked nervously, fidgeting with his thumbs,

Tigris narrowed her eyes. "Yes, that's me. What are you doing here at this hour?" she replied, crossing her arms over her unbound chest. The boy's cheeks flushed scarlet. He dipped into a low bow.

"I apologise for the interruption, my lady," he gasped out quickly, "B-but I'm a messenger for the Prima Tavern."

"I already have all the mead and wine I need," Tigris snapped, feeling the edge of irritation. Why did the guards let this boy through? "And I'm not interested in a drink."

The boy held out his hands placatingly before Tigris could slam the door shut. "I'm sorry, my lady. But I'm not here to advertise our drinks. I'm afraid you need to come pick up a relation of yours from the tavern. They're quite inebriated and can't be left without supervision."

Tigris' brow furrowed. She gripped the edge of her door. "Aodh knows that if he can't hold his drink, he shouldn't come crying to me."

"It's not the prince, my lady."

Confusion bloomed in Tigris' fatigued mind. Finn was still in the infirmary, sitting with Kai to talk. The knights would never call her to haul them out of the tavern.

Tigris was still racking her mind for possibilities when the messenger put her out of her trouble.

"I'm afraid it's your maid."

-------

The sound of drunken cheering and rasping, off tune singing filled Tigris' ears as she followed the messenger boy into the tavern. She pulled her cloak's hood low over her face even though the summer heat made her sweat buckets.

Roche was going to pay for making her come all this way at midnight.

"I don't see why I need to be here," Tigris grumbled under her breath as the messenger pulled the door shut behind her, "Roche has always visited the tavern. You've never brought me to pick her up before."

The messenger boy looked at her with a startled expression. "Forgive me, my lady, but your maid has never been to this tavern before."

Tigris frowned. That couldn't be right. Roche had shown up hungover to work more times than she could count. Perhaps Roche frequented another tavern.

Tigris opened her mouth to ask the messenger as much when they pressed through a thick circle of drinkers gathered around a table. Tigris' voice died and all thoughts drained from her head.

Roche was standing on the table, heels kicked off her feet and her usual stitched pink gingham dress hitched to her knees. She balanced precariously on the wooden surface, a cloak abandoned and soaked with ale on the chair behind her. The drunk crowd around her clapped as Roche raspily sang, dancing with a thumping, jaunty gait.

"There was a man from Nantucket," Roche gleefully sang, her twirling on the table like a spinning top. What followed was a slew of bawdy lyrics and songs and poems that turned Tigris' cheeks red and made her sputter. Roche sang loudly and terribly off key, much to the crowd's amusement. She belted out the words confidently as Tigris watched, her jaw dropping.

This was Roche, who sometimes would be petrified at the concept of talking to strangers in the market. That Roche was now winking, spinning, jumping, and drunkenly singing to a bar full of patrons.

"She won't stop," the messenger murmured to Tigris, running his hands through his hair in distress, "She just keeps dancing. And that table is-"

Before he could finish, Tigris saw the maid's foot slip on a puddle of ale on the table's surface. She slipped, arms too leaden to pinwheel, and lurched to the side. The table wobbled.

Tigris darted forward, snagging Roche around the waist and dragging her to safety as the entire table toppled over.

"Roche!" Tigris snapped, yanking the girl up by the shoulders, "Be careful, you idiot!"

Roche's hazy eyes, reddened by drink, struggled to latch on Tigris' face. When they did, her gleeful expression immediately shifted to something dark.

"No, no, no," Roche slurred, squirming in Tigris' grip, "Lemme go. I wanna make 'em laugh."

Tigris felt a strange flare of protective heat. She held Roche tighter before the girl could slip away.

"You've done more than that," Tigris hissed, "You're wasted and you need to get home."

Immediately, Roche's face shut down into the expression Tigris had seen earlier on the parapets.

"Don't wanna," Roche mumbled, tearing herself away from Tigris, "I can't go back."

"Why?" Tigris asked her, shouting to be heard over the hum of the tavern.

Roche pressed her lips together like she was holding back the words. She turned away from Tigris, hiding her expression. Tigris felt a surge of frustration. Roche didn't notice and moved to clamber up onto another table.

"My lady," the messenger whispered, "That's the third table she's been on today. She's already broken one. If there's any way you could stop her..."

"Good god," Tigris groaned, feeling a headache pulse behind her eyes. "I'll handle her from here." she told the messenger, marching towards her inebriated maid.

Roche wasn't singing or dancing now. She was standing sullenly on the edge of the table, ignoring the crowd around her.

"Sing another song!" someone shouted. Roche smiled, but it was pained.

"Of course. I'm a fool, that's what I do." she answered flatly, her chest heaving for a large breath in preparation for her next performance.

"No you don't! You're a maid, not a jester!" Tigris swooped in, grabbing Roche around the waist and tugging her off the table. Roche retaliated with an indignant squawk.

"Hey! Let her sing!" someone jeered from the crowd. Tigris glared at them.

"Get lost!" There were probably more diplomatic ways of putting it, but Tigris was tired. SHe wanted to go back to her comfy bed and sleep for an eternity. She couldn't do that without Roche.

"Oy, you can't just take her away!" someone else cried, "We want a dance!"

The crowd began to mumble, growing agitated at their entertainment being taken away. Tigris rolled her eyes as Roche tried to pull away.

"I swear to god, Roche. Try to escape again and I'll make you polish my sword for the next ten years!"

Oddly, that sentence made Roche stop fighting. Tigris finally managed to lock the maid's arms behind her back with one hand. With the other, Tigris pulled her cloak to the side, revealing her weapons belt. The crowd dispersed with a myriad of grumbles, tossing Roche a few nervous glances.

Roche scowled at Tigris, rubbing her bleary eyes with a fisted hand. "Go back to the castle, m'lady."

"I was in the castle. Until I got called to haul your ass out of here," Tigris replied, tugging Roche towards the door.

Roche pouted. "Please go home."

"Not without you." Tigris answered, "It's late. I need you to be ready and not hungover tomorrow. I have a long list of chores to do."

Her worry intensified when Roche's eyes hardened into something more bitter. The maid spun around, just outside the threshold of the bar's doorway.

"I'll be ready, my lady," Roche sneered, and the abrupt bitter tone momentarily shocked Tigris into silence. Roche's face twisted, her eyes cold and unkind. "Want me to scrub your floors while searching for a 'dangerous beast'? Shall I polish more blood off your armour? How about that damned sword?" Her voice choked off. Tigris felt more surprised than outraged at the vehemence in the woman's voice.

"What is wrong with you?" Tigris hissed. Roche didn't move, didn't even react when Tigris added, "You can't talk to me like that. Drunk or not."

Roche laughed loudly, sharply. "Sure thing, my lady. Run away now. Maybe go talk to Kai. Go talk to your lover. Or not-lover. I can't tell. Maybe you'll listen to him when he talks."

Roche's eyes were glistening fiercely as she swayed in place. Tigris barely reined in her anger. How could Roche talk about Kai so brusquely after everything that had happened?

"You need to mind your tongue!" she snapped, roughly yanking Roche down the path to the castle, "You have no right to speak to me like this. I am your princess."

"You are," Roche agreed, sobering suddenly. She stared sullenly at Tigris, "I was being serious. You should go to Kai, not come to me. You need to tell him that you looove him."

A pair of guards swept past, tossing Tigris a curious look. She nodded at them quickly, pulling her cloak's hood further over her burning face.

"Keep it down, will you?" Tigris hissed. This was why she never told Roche about her feelings. The girl couldn't keep her mouth shut. "I don't feel anything for Kai."

Roche suddenly stopped her drunken walk. She lurched to the side, and before Tigris could react, Roche was pulling her into a tight embrace. Her ale soaked breath made Tigris' nostrils sting.

"You do," Roche said, her voice suddenly unsteady, "You feel for him. Do me a favour and tell him. As soon as possible. I want you to be happy. You're going to be a great queen. And a happy queen is a great queen."

Tigris swallowed, a lump suddenly forming in her throat. "I can't," she admitted quietly, only because Roche was so drunk she wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning. And Tigris really needed to talk about her situation with someone. "Finn likes him too. I can't hurt him."

Roche blinked at her with heavy lidded eyes that still gleamed with wisdom, even after far too many drinks.

"Tell Kai," Roche repeated, her words strung together so quick that Tigris nearly didn't catch them. Roche swayed dangerously, "If you don't, it'll be too late. You'll lose 'im and you'll never see 'im again and she'll be gone."

Tigris watched as Roche's expression shifted into something broken and twisted. Her eyes glistened with what looked like tears which was strange. Tigris had never seen Roche tear up before or even cry. An odd feeling made her stomach turn, like she was standing on the edge of a truth she didn't want to hear.

"You need to tell him," Roche insisted again, her eyes sagging shut. She leaned forward, nearly toppling over. Tigris barely managed to support her weight as Roche whispered, "You love him. Don't let him go. I want you to be happy."

The pain in her voice was so sharp it landed like a blade.

"And how would you know this, Roche?" Tigris had to ask, dreading the answer that had turned her happy maid into this sullen, bitter woman.

Roche curled in on herself a little, lips pressed together so tightly it looked like it hurt. Her hair shrouded her face from view. "I have some experience."

"You love someone?" Tigris asked, surprise clouding her senses.

"Of course," Roche answered softly, still hiding her face behind her hair.

The revelation hit Tigris shockingly hard. Roche had fallen in love? When? They'd known each other for three years and she hadn't heard of this mystery lover. Why hadn't Roche told her?

Roche lurched into an unsteady walk.

"Are we going back to the tavern?"

"No," Tigris' mind spun, "Who is it? The person you love?"

Roche swallowed, looking down. "It doesn't matter anymore," she said softly, "She's gone. Today we would have-" Roche swallowed, the words stuck in her throat.

Oh.

That explained the drinking. Today was the anniversary of some event with Roche's former lover. Tigris felt a surge of protectiveness and fury crash over her. Who would leave behind sweet Roche? Anyone would be lucky to have her. How could they leave her so heartbroken?

Tigris' heart twisted painfully in her chest as Roche blinked hard, her eyes gleaming like hazel jewels in the moonlight.

They entered the courtyard, and Roche suddenly went stiff. Tigris hurriedly inspected the cobblestones for any trace of blood or inkblood that might have scared her, but there was nothing there.

Roche suddenly pulled away from Tigris, stumbling back a few steps. "I can't do this."

Tigris held out her hands, feeling a wave of worry for her friend. "You need to come inside," she said softly, placatingly, "We need to get you to the library-"

"NO!" Roche cried out suddenly, shaking her head furiously, "I can't see Verita right now. I-I can't see her right now! I told that messenger not to call her!"

"Roche-"

"Why couldn't we just have run? I need to run! I need to go see her!" Roche gasped out, her hands threading through her hair. The girl was breathing so quickly that Tigris feared she would pass out. She stepped forward, grabbing Roche's shoulders before the woman could bolt.

"You need to calm down-"

"Leave me alone! I'm not going back!" Roche shrieked, her voice reaching a feverish pitch. They were beginning to draw concerned stares from the knights milling around the courtyard. Tigris cursed silently, giving Roche a quick shake.

"Okay! You don't have to go to the library!" she agreed quickly, relief flooding her when Roche stopped panting hysterically. She added, "Just... come with me."

Roche relaxed slightly and didn't protest as Tigris led her through the halls.

"Oh," Roche murmured as Tigris shoved her into her royal chambers, "You need to go to bed. I didn't turn down your bed."

"Would you just sit down?" Tigris snapped, barely catching Roche as she tried to adjust the sheets and nearly faceplanted. She eased the maid down onto the edge of the bed, grabbing an old glass of water. She shoved it in the maid's face. "Drink it."

Roche's nose wrinkled. "It's not alcohol. I don't want it."

"I'm ordering you to drink it, and I'm your princess." Tigris retorted. That seemed to do the trick. Roche downed the glass in one large gulp, scowling in disgust afterwards.

"Don't tell me what to do, m'lady." Roche muttered sourly, placing the empty glass on the edge of Tigris' nightstand. She curled her bare feet up to chest and rolled onto her side, nestling into Tigris' bed, "Why did you bring me here?"

"I couldn't very well take you to the library, now could I?" Tigris answered, moving to her closet to slip off her cloak and gown. "You can stay here. Just for tonight. I don't trust you to not trip and die on your way back to your chambers."

From the bed, Roche stared up at the ceiling, her mind drifting far away. An almost contented expression flitted across the woman's face. She glanced at Tigris, who was trying to get into her nightgown quickly.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

"Very." Tigris grumbled.

Roche was quiet for a moment. Then she recited,

"But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

            Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

            Turns again home."

Tigris blinked. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Roche rolled over, snuggling into Tigris' pillow before Tigris could protest.

"It means goodnight," Roche murmured sleepily, "She told me it helped her sleep."

She. It must have been Roche's mystery lover. Tigris opened her mouth to press for details, but Roche's soft snores filled the air.

"I guess it really does help you sleep," Tigris muttered, rummaging through her room for a sleeping roll. She laid it on the ground and moved to drag Roche onto it. As much as she sympathised with her maid tonight, she was not giving up her soft bed.

Then Roche left out a snuffly snort in her sleep, and Tigris relented.

"The things I do for you, Roche," Tigris muttered, pinching out the wick of the candle on her nightstand. She stared at the maid as she lowered herself onto the sleeping roll, watching the girl curl up into a tight ball. When she slept, Roche looked peaceful. Happy in a way Tigris had never seen her.

Her mind flashed to Roche's broken expression in the tavern. How had Roche hidden such a secret from her? How much did she really know about her bubbly maid?

Being a royal was lonely. It was hard to know who was being genuine. Roche's candor was one of the things Tigris liked about the girl, even if she would never admit it aloud. Why hadn't Roche told her about this? Hadn't she earned the woman's trust yet?

Tigris shook her head. This wasn't about trust. Roche's secret was a painful one. It was no wonder she'd kept it buried.

"You're an open book, Roche," Tigris whispered to the unconscious maid, "I just wish you could tell me your stories once in a while instead of listening to mine."

Roche didn't stir in her sleep, lost to dreams that were hopefully happier than her reality.

-------

Tigris awoke to the sound of retching muffled by a thin door. She covered her ears with her pillow, her back aching from a night on the floor.

The door to her bathroom swung open and Roche stumbled out, her face a nauseated shade of green. The woman groaned, clutching her stomach.

"How's that hangover coming along?" Tigris asked from her place on the floor. Roche nearly jumped out of her skin before she winced.

"Princess!" she hissed, rubbing her temples, "Not so loud, please."

Normally, Tigris would have teased her and maybe shouted, just for the sake of punishing Roche for being careless on a night out. But Tigris couldn't wipe the memory of Roche's devastation from her mind.

"What do you remember?" she asked.

Roche winced, rubbing her temples. "Bits and pieces. Nothing much."

Tigris blinked, the memory of Roche's teary eyes filling her mind. When her vision cleared, Roche was staring at her, looking a lot more sober.

"What did I tell you last night?" she asked. Her tone was carefully neutral, not giving much away. Tigris realised, with a small twist of her stomach, that Roche was very good at dancing around conversations she didn't want to have.

Tigris didn't feel like lying to her. "Quite a bit," she replied, raising a teasing brow, "Something about a man in Nantucket?"

Roche's cheeks flushed, but she didn't drop her intense stare. "And?"

Tigris swallowed. Clearly, Roche wasn't dropping this. "And something about a lost lover?"

A shadow blanketed Roche's face. The woman looked a decade older as she closed her eyes, sagging against Tigris' bed frame.

"Princess-"

"Who was it?" Tigris asked, unable to hold herself back any longer, "Who on earth would leave you so heartbroken without making amends?" Anger simmered in her voice.

Roche flinched. "I appreciate that, Tigris," Roche said, her voice a strange blend of coldness and resignation, "But I'm afraid you won't know her. She's dead."

Oh god.

Tigris barely stopped herself from clapping her hands over her mouth. She'd been wrong. She'd been so wrong. Roche wasn't just heartbroken, she was grieving.

Roche's lover had died.

Tigris' tongue unstuck from the roof of her mouth. "How... when-"

"During the gorgon attacks," Roche answered flatly, her throat bobbing. She spoke slowly, like each word had to be selected carefully. "She died last night."

Tigris felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her. She eased herself down to her bed roll, swallowing hard. There were no words for the horror that had filled her.

Roche held her gaze, her eyes hollow and empty.

"Are... are you doing okay?" Tigris asked. She nearly smacked herself. What a stupid question. Of course she wasn't doing okay! Her lover had died!

Roche, thankfully, seemed to sense Tigris' distress. Her lips twitched. "No," she answered, "But... I will be." She flitted towards the windows, cracking them open with a pained hiss. "Once I get Leinos' hangover remedy, that is. You know, I've never actually drank before. My mother said it wasn't common from where she's from, so I wanted to give it a shot."

Roche rambled on, slowly, more flatly than usual, about how each drink had tasted and the neurological effects she'd read about each. It was like nothing had changed, Tigris realised mutely from her seated position on her bed roll as Roche began laying out her clothes stiffly. Perhaps that was what Roche wanted or needed.

It had been a long time since Tigris had faced death. She remembered the agony of her mother's death, like a gaping wound in her chest that had taken far too long to heal. She remembered all the sympathetic looks and pitying stares from courtiers that had driven her mad. It didn't help that her father was too mired in his own grief to notice. He'd never been the same. Tigris had lost two parents that day.

She knew loss well. She also knew Roche didn't have the luxury of being a royal with days off to grieve. She knew Roche needed to get on with her day, that she was trying.

"I'll get your breakfast, my lady. Would you like a breakfast sandwich today? I think Cook has fresh ingredients." Roche was asking, hovering in Tigris' doorway.

Tigris nodded. "That would be good. Thank you."

Roche's eyes softened slightly. "I should be thanking you for hauling me out of the tavern at midnight."

"Yeah, well, don't make it a habit." Tigris grumbled goodnaturedly. Roche flashed her the smallest of smiles, and Tigris felt victorious.

"I do remember you confessing to loving a certain servant I'm best friends with," Roche said quietly, her eyes gleaming knowingly.

Tigris tossed her pillow at the maid. "Roche!"

Roche ducked the flying projectile sluggishly. She chuckled ever so slightly, one foot out the door. Then she paused, turning back to Tigris.

"I meant what I said, you know? You should tell him. You... you shouldn't wait until it's too late." Roche hesitated with the last sentence. Tigris bit back the impulse to tell Roche to keep her nose out of her business. After all, Roche had a point of view Tigris would hopefully never have.

She remembered the desperation that had seized her when Kai had bled out in her arms. She barely managed to suppress her shudder.

Roche was right. Tigris would have to tell Kai how she felt soon. But today wasn't the day. She'd need to wait until he was healed and not pressured by her or Finn to answer. Kai deserved that much

"I'll tell him when the time is right," Tigris told Roche slowly, lifting her eyes up to meet Roche's earnest ones, "Thank you."

Roche's eyes widened at the words. "You're thanking me? Maybe you need Leinos' hangover remedy more than I do!"

Tigris threw her last pillow at the woman, and this time Roche darted off into the hallway with a small smile. Tigris stood, her back cracking loudly as she started her day. She knew that Roche would be just fine because Tigris would be there for her.

A/N: Here's a bit of Tigris and Roche fluff as well as some Roche whump! This also concludes another arc in the series! How did you like the romance so far? I'd love any possible criticism, be as harsh as you can because I'd love to improve :D

I'm realising I probably should have separated each arc into a book, but I'm in way too deep now. Heads up, chapters are probably going to be a bit longer just so that this series can fit into one book. Afterwards, I'll probably split it up into separate books, if that's what you all want. Let me know what you think!

Also, we're getting really close to 1K reads!!!! :O Honestly, I still sometimes think that all of the views are from me reading the chapters over and over again for errors LOL. But on a real note, thank you so much to anyone who's been reading and made it this far! I seriously appreciate the fact that you're reading along to Roche and Tigris' stories, that anyone even knows about Roche and Tigris apart from myself. I hope you're enjoying the story so far :)

As always, happy reading!