Disclaimer: I don't own this. Never have, never will. TP owns it all...
So, new oneshot. I know I need to update the rest of my stuff, but that's coming. I've been adjusting to having my life be turned upside down, and I've barely had time to do anything. It looks like things are settling down a bit, but not much at this point. I can promise that at least one of my stories is getting an update soon, and that this is only a oneshot, but I've got lots of stuff planned for this year. Anyway, this is for the monthly challenge over at the Men of Tortall forums - if you're interested in participating, head over there and have a look at it! And even better, I didn't kill Rosto in this one! Again! I'm proud of myself. So, don't forget to review - I love knowing what people think!
Thunk.
Thunk.
Thunk.
Silence.
Thunk.
The cycle went on and on. Knife after knife flew through the air, blade embedding in the support beam. The man throwing them never flinched when he rose and moved over to tear them from the wood. He simply acted, then returned to his seat and threw them again.
Thunk.
He should have known from the start that it was doomed to fail. It always was. No matter what he did, it always happened. In retrospect, he should have expected it. He should have known that he could never have what he wanted – he had sacrificed his own desires to ambition years before. When he had taken the hardwood throne, he had known what he was doing.
Thunk.
This time, he had not done it for himself. Yes, he had been irate about the way Kayfer Deerborn had treated those in the Rogue…but that had not been why he had done it. For once in his life, he had not been self-serving. Yet, he had not gained anything from this act. He had not gotten what he had wanted.
Thunk.
She thought so little of him, despite the efforts he had made on her behalf. She thought he was as bad as the rushers her mother had allowed herself to be abused by. She thought that he would hurt her intentionally. She should have known that he never would have done that if she had given him a chance.
Thunk.
Here he was now, sitting alone in a dark inn, throwing knives at a block of wood. And where was she? Far away, sniffing out Rats, as usual. First it had been Port Caynn, and the arms of Dale Rowan. Next it had been the Hills to save King Roger's son. Now, he didn't know where she had gone. He no longer cared.
Thunk.
Maybe, he corrected himself, he did. Maybe he had always cared, but he knew the space between them was of his doing. It might not have been his fault, but he was well aware that the choices he had made had led him to where he was. They had been what he had felt was right, or what he wanted at the time.
Thunk.
In retrospect there were many things that he would have done differently. Most of the decisions that had taken him from Scanra to Tortall he would have done the same, had he known. But he might have turned over a new leaf when he came to Tortall, had he known what could have been in store for him had he not been a Rat.
Thunk.
He regretted it. A bitter part of him regretted regretting it. It was his life to live, not hers. Her choices affected her life, not his. They should have, at least. They did affect his life and he knew it. He was sick of pining after her only to see her run off and find someone who wasn't him. He was sick of acting like a lovesick pup because of her.
Thunk.
It was going to end now. He had wasted time waiting for her. His choices had led him to where he was and they could lead him away again.
Thunk.
Rosto the Piper loved Beka Cooper, but he could live without her. He had made his choices. Now he just had to live his life the way he wanted to.
Silence.