Rogues

by Utada1

This story takes you to a world, based on the one we left years ago. It's fictional and yet it has a way of showing truth in all our missconceptions of people we really don't know. This story is romantic, lovable, and even has some drama to keep it going.

The rain came that evening awakening my memory. "Goodbye my love," the voice had said. "We will meet again."

"Oh Kingo, don't leave me!" I had cried. "I need you! Your village, they need you, you can't abandon us, not like the others."

"There are men here," my love had said. "You are not without protection. I most help defend our boarders. We cannot fall to them, or all will be lost."

"Those old men couldn't protect themselves," I protested. "They'll be no use to us when the Rogues come."

"They are the elders," he reasoned. "They know routes all over the land. If trouble starts they will lead the women and children to safety."

"How long can we keep running?" Tears began to come to my eyes. "Until there is know where to run to?" We embraced then and Kingo whispered words in my ear that I'd never forget. "Be strong my love. Be strong and keep well, so when I come back with the sword of the Rogues, we can feast and make love and you can bear our children. We will sit below the cherry blossom tree and I will talk of the battle and our great victory. For our nation and for our people be strong."

Now I sit alone in the cottage that would have been filled with the noise of a baby's crying, my husband's laughter, and my footsteps hurrying around the kitchen. As I look around our bedroom that would have been filled with precious memories of love making, I wanted to tear up our bed sheets. But remembering Kingo's words all I could do was look at them.

I would have sat like that for hours if it weren't for my sister's yelling. She had walked in my cottage without even knocking and gave me a look that would have woke the dead.

"Get off you lazy ass!" she snapped. "There is much work to be done and you sit and sulk over your love as if know one else has lost a love."

"How can you be so heartless?" I cried. "You had lost Tino and it had only been a week, before you were up and about looking to remarry."

"That's because I have children to raise." Aaron sneered at me. "I couldn't sit on my ass while they starved and my people needed supplies." Her face softened. "And as for losing Tino, I was heartbroken. But I knew he would want his children to have a father, so I married Jim. He's a good man and isn't as old as some of the others. He's even has some juice left in him, I'm expecting another child in the winter."

"I cannot forget like you have," I raged, turning my back on her and facing the wall. "I cannot forget Kingo, know man will ever replace him."

I felt the bed go down and I knew my sister was sitting behind me. She put a rough but gentle hand on my shoulder. "I know it is hard," her voice was gentle now. "But Kingo would not want you wasting away like this."

"I know, I know," I said, tears coming to my eyes. "But I can't see being happy when he's so faraway. It's seemed like a piece of me, the good pieces have left with him."

"Then don't be happy," Aaron said. "Now is not the time for it. But be strong and help your nation. Then Kingo will come back to you and this war will be over. Then we will celebrate."

I did as my sister said. Everyday I awoke just before dawn, washed and got dressed and fixed a small meal for myself. Then I hurried to the fields behind the homes of Bradford and helped the other women whose husbands had left; tend the fields and livestock.

My sister was the only remarried woman to help with running supplies for the people and for our warriors. I worked in the rice patties, my feet chilled with the cold ankle high water, and my back hurting from so much bending. After eight hours of working, we'd break for lunch in one of the warehouses. The place was always crowded with women and children, who were old enough to work; getting food, which would probably be there only meal of the day. The food portions were small and not spiced, with one cup of water. I sat on a wooden bench eating off a wooden table next to Marigold.

Marigold had been my best friend when we were in school at age nine. Girls were expected to only go to school until age ten, that's when they usually got their visitors and were expected to be married and have children. We had stopped talking to each other when we stopped school and were promised to men. But her husband had died in the war, since he was the first to enlist. She had never been quite right afterwards, since she had lost their child too. I knew life was hard on all of us, but when I saw Marigold I knew the war had taken its toile. She was no longer the rosy cheek curly blonde, sparkling blue eyed girl I had known. Her hair had turned dirty blonde, either with dirt or age, and were no longer tight curled, but hung like wispy spider webs, her cheeks were dirty and almost purple, and her eyes had turned cold dark blue.

The only thing that remained the same was her good-natured smile and her small frame. When she recognized me she gave me a smile and I smiled back.

"Well if ain't Monroe," she said, in crackling kind of voice. "Still as pretty as ever and polite. But obviously not use to human contact since you didn't even give your old friend a hug."

I got up from my seat and hugged her, remembering how affectionate she use to be. "Thank you Marigold," I said, sitting back in my seat. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Ahh, now don't go and lie to me," Marigold crackled. "You know as sure as sunset that I've changed. I use to be something, now I ain't much of anything. I can't even get one of those old farts to even look up." Her smile vanished and she looked down at her plate. "I use to have a figure that know man could resist, now I'm as skinny as a pole. Damn, if Luc was still alive, he wouldn't even want me."

"That's not true Marigold," I said. I couldn't handle her talking like this. I couldn't bear it if Kingo's affections had changed for me. "I bet any man would be happy to have you. Maybe your looks have changed, but your still as nice and affectionate as ever."

"Monkey Spoons! You still got away with words. I always admired that about you. I bet you can still sing too. How 'bout giving us some entertainment?"

Before I could decline the offer, I was ushered to the front of the room by Marigold standing on a stool. She yelled for everyone's attention and said that I would sing. People sat politely silent waiting for me to sing.

I didn't really know what to sing for I only knew a few songs. But I decided to sing the song that Kingo and I loved. Our nations national anthem:

"Oh my children can you hear me now. We have come, we have come, Oh my children hear me now. We have come from the sky to fight and live among the stars, let us be blessed with strength and love, let us sing our anthem. We have come, we have come, let us rejoice and love, let us know no bonds. For we have come and now life is here."

When I had finished the room was alive with applause and cheers. A smile crept on my face and I could see my sister looking at me proud. For that day on, I sang at lunchtime and at the end of work I went over to my sister's for dinner. I helped with the meals and with the dishes and then returned back to my lonely cottage.

When fall came, it seemed like the town was quite. There seemed to be know life, since it was the end of growing season, everyone had retired to their homes and making other goods to be sold for food during the winter.

I didn't have to worry about the winter since I was to be staying with my sister. Her husband was a wealthy businessman, who ran the weaponries along the east. With the war he was thriving and had more stuff in his home than most congressmen.

"A letter has come for you," Aaron said, entering the kitchen. I was feeding her two-year-old daughter, Yule. She looked so much like her father; I didn't know how Aaron could stand it. I looked up at her and her face-looked grave.

"Can I have it?" Aaron came across the table to take Yule and handed me the letter. I opened it quickly knowing it was probably from Kingo. My heart dropped when it was a letter from the general that Kingo was serving under.

I read the letter but my mind couldn't get over the word died. In fact my mind stopped comprehending after it started out saying it was sorry and explained about how weak our defenses were. I could have ripped it up and burned it, but Aaron was studying me closely and I couldn't let her see me be weak again.

"It's from General K.," I said, softly. "Kingo is…dead. He died of intense battle wounds and fever. There was nothing they could do."

"I'm so sorry Monroe," Aaron said, as I got up from the chair.

"For what?" I gave her a weak smile. "Like you said, I'm not the only woman who's lost a lover in this war. I'll survive, I don't know how, but I'll survive."

Before Aaron could say any more, I ran out of the two-story house and into the cold autumn night. The stars shinned bright and even with the bitterly cold wind, I still couldn't stop my feet from running. If I kept running maybe I could turn back time, I'd go back to the tree with the cherry blossoms and Kingo would be there his arms opened for me.

When I stopped at the tree with the cherry blossoms and saw that it was bare and lifeless, I knew Kingo would never come back. He was as dead as the tree and as far away as spring. I broke down completely in tears and collapsed under the tree. The wind not even blowing anymore for me, but whispering the words that I had held so close to my heart, and as they passed through my ears they left my heart forever.

Chapter 2

I could hear footsteps from behind me and I immediately got up from where I was laying in the dirt.

"Marigold?" She wore only a blanket over her, with men's trousers and old boots, with a toe sticking out. "What are you doing here?" I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes.

"Taking a walk," she said, casually. "I was trying to find some old abandon crates. I'd like to pick some berries before there no good."

"Why didn't you ask some of the women from the fields?" I said. "Surely they have some old crates."

"Those whores," Marigold spat. "There to busy having kids and finding old men to marry for a roof over there heads. They ain't got no crates, I bet if they did, there using them for the same purpose as I am or to sleep in."

"My sisters one of those 'whores'," I snapped.

"Aaron ain't like them," Marigold explained. "Your sister wouldn't get on her back for any man. Yeah, she married one of the richest men, but because he was a good man, not because of his benefits."

I looked at Marigold for a while, than shivered. It was getting colder and if I stayed out there any longer I'd be an icicle.

"There's some crates in one of the warehouses," I said, taking Marigolds hand and leading her to the path of the fields.

"But ain't they locked?"

"Not the one we eat lunch in. They always stay open for workers."

The warehouse was cold and dark, but we knew our way around it. We hugged the walls, feeling for any boxes. "I feel one!" Marigold cried. I hurried to where I heard her voice and helped her pick up the crate.

We carried it out of the warehouse and walked down the grassy, dirt path to the fields. The berries were like frozen jewels as they shined with the coming frost. Marigold quickly picked them and I helped, only picking the choice berries. When the crate was half way full we hurried from the fields to the main road.

"Where's your house?" I asked, as we carried the crate past the first house.

"I sleep in Gield," Marigold said, and I stopped in my place. "What's with you?"

"The whore house?"

"It's not just a whore house, underneath there's a basement were they let the homeless sleep. The girls say it's there way to help with the war effort, along with other things."

"I refuse to go there," I said, stubbornly. I hated whorehouses, my father, after my mother had died, had spent much of his time there. They say that's how he died from one of those nasty dieses the girls usually carried.

"Well there's no other place I can go." I shook my head and smiled. "You can sleep in my house for as long as you like."

"Aren't you going to mind sleeping in a bed with a woman?"

"I'm not staying there. I'm staying with my sister for the winter, since I have little food in my home. But with these berries and the wheat that's left over you can survive off of berry tarts. If you don't know how to make them, I'd be glad to show you."

"Thank you kindly," Marigold said, a little moister coming to her eyes. Then she toughened. "Come on," she said, hurrying along with the grate. "Let's get out of this cold before we freeze our asses off."

My cottage looked serene, since it was the only one near the forest. There was forest that covered the entire Bradford community, the town stood in the middle where all the other homes were, and mine was off to the side.

"Your house is pretty," Marigold complemented, as we entered my cottage. "I hope it has fire wood."

"Yep, plenty of it," I said, as we put the crate on the table. I hurried to the fireplace and put wood in to make a roaring fire. When the fire was going, Marigold and me started making berry tarts.

The fire along with us moving around the cottage warmed us up. "MMM, smells like heaven," Marigold said, once the tarts were done. We sat at the table I would have shared with Kingo and memories of what had happen came back to me.

"Kingo died, Marigold," I said, suddenly. Marigold stopped eating the pastry, and sat it back on the wooden plate.

"God Monroe, I'm sorry," Marigold said, with compassion and understanding in her voice. "I bet you're crushed. I remember when I heard my Luc had died, I was all tore up inside."

"I feel that way now," I admitted, a fresh batch of tears coming to my eyes. "Oh God, why did you have to take my Kingo? Why did this war have to happen?"

"Them damn Rogues!" Marigold cursed. "There the reason for all this. If it weren't for them and there uppity ways we'd still have our men!"

"Oh Marigold, don't you see? I wouldn't care if they took over, as long as I still had Kingo. It was pride that brought all this. Damn pride and old men. Old men make wars and young men die in them, millions of them."

With this statement ringing in the air, Marigold and me fell apart. We cried and held each other, eating berry tarts in the middle. Emotions were running high and I felt like I was alone, helpless. I needed someone tonight and I was glad for Marigolds company.

Soon we began to get tired. We decided to sleep in my bed since I didn't want to go back to my sister's house and I really didn't feel like sleeping alone. We settled into the quilt I had knitted when Kingo and me had courted. Each stitch was made with love, and I remembered my vow to lose my virginity in this quilt. With Marigolds sturdy body near mine, I felt like Kingo was sleeping next to me.

I snuggled near Marigold, who in turn put her arm around me. I felt warm and safe and a weird kind of emotion came over me. Marigold, I guess felt it too, because she slowly, gently, rubbed her hand up and down my arm. I smiled, feeling the compassion that I had long been with out.

She turned to me, titling my face upwards to her. I looked into her deep blue eyes and saw what I had been feeling all along. We were silent for what seemed like minutes, before our face became closer. When our lips touched, my mind couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Marigold seemed to know what she was doing, for she put her tongue in my mouth and put her hand behind my neck.

When realization of what may happen at this moment kicked into my mind, I pushed away from Marigold. She was stunned by my reaction, as she got out of the bed. We were silent again, for along while. Finally Marigold said, "I think I better sleep in the other room." I could only nod, because I didn't trust myself to speak.

She took some extra sheets from my bed and a pillow and left. I was sitting up in bed, trying to figure out what had happen. Was I becoming one of those… women who liked other women? No, of course not! I was just lonely that's all. I had liked men all my life and never once thought of a woman as anything as a friend. But was Marigold one of those- women? I couldn't imagine her being one, but I knew there seemed to be some connection between us. God, help me! This war was taking a toile on my sanity! I need Kingo, I needed love, and maybe Marigold was the only one that had seemed to know what I was feeling. No, there was my sister, but we never kissed, not like that.

I cleared what had happened in my mind and lay down beneath the quilt to sleep. When I closed my eyes I saw Kingo's face looking disgusted and hurt at my betrayal. Then it slowly began to fade until I couldn't see him anymore.

The weeks passed and Marigold and I kept our distance. Since I wasn't going to the fields anymore, there was no reason for Marigold and I to see each other as much as we had. I usually stayed inside with my sister, helping her with the preparations for her delivery. We had hired the best midwife in all of Bradford and had enough clothes and diapers for the baby to last for a year.

"We make quite a team, don't we Monroe?" Aaron said, as we finished the last diaper. We were sitting in Aaron's good-sized kitchen, her daughter Yule and one year old son Tino jr. playing with wooden toys on the floor.

"Yeah, this baby will be the best dressed in all of Bradford," I replied. "What do you think it will be Aaron?"

"Probably a boy," Aaron said. "At least, that's what Jim wants it to be. I really hope it's a girl."

"Two girls and one boy," I said, testing it out. "Hmm, that's an uneven number Aaron. I bet ol' Jim would want another boy in the spring."

"Well, he can have the boy if he wants it's so bad," Aaron snapped. "I'm not having anymore children after this." Then she added more softly, "At least I'll try not to."

"You said he's not as old as some may think," I said, winking at Aaron. "You never know, Jim might get wound up one day and lay it on you."

"Ha, that'll be the day," Aaron said, shaking her head, a blush coming to her cheeks. "He barely made it through the honeymoon."

"That's not what I was hearing at night," I said, a smile spreading on my face. Before Aaron could get on me for what I had said, there was a knock at the door. I got up from my seat, stepping over the kids and answered it.

"Marigold!" I said, shocked. "What are you…"

"They're comin'!" Marigold said, in an out of breath voice. "Them Rogues are comin'!" I let Marigold in and she half collapsed on the floor. I helped her into the kitchen and sat her down in my seat.

"What's going on?" Aaron cried. "And why is Marigold here?" Marigold took a breath and then explained why she had come here. The Rogues had weakened our defenses and were pulling our troops back, soon our defenses would be completely gone and they would take all the cities of King John III. Stripping Ashton, our kingdom, of all our culture and wealth.

"How long do we have to get away?" Aaron said, in a frightful tone.

"Know one knows, but people are packing up now." Without another word Aaron and me hurried to pack the house up. We packed clothing first, sturdy boots, and then bed linings. Marigold watched the kids while we packed.

We didn't stop until Jim came home from his workshop. Jim was a tall man, well muscular for and elder, with dark red hair and mustache. He wore expensive satin trousers with a vest the color of dark blue.

"What have you done to my house!" he said, in the proper aristocratic tone that he had inherited from his family.

"Haven't you heard?" Aaron said, coming towards him from the stairs. We had just come down stairs with all the bags we had packed. "The Rogues they're coming. Surely, you've seen all the people leaving Bradford?"

"Yes and I have heard," he said, in a casual tone. "But we are not going anywhere, my dear. There's no chance in hell I'd leave my company to those animals. My father, his father, and his father before him have worked to hard, to long, for it to be taken over by another."

"But Jim…"

"No buts Aaron," he said, in a firm tone. "I'm not leaving this house. If you wish to leave, then you can. I wont try to stop you; I understand you have children to protect. But I will not leave. So long as I have air in my lungs I will not give up my families company."

"You old fool!" Aaron shouted. "You'd die for pride! For a company you can always rebuild!" Tears came down Aaron's cheeks when Jim would not reply. I came to Aaron's side, but she pushed me away. "Fine, die for stupidity! But I will not put this family in danger for you!"

Aaron went into the kitchen, gathered her children and sat them on the floor in front of Jim. She turned to him and said, "I need your horse."

"Your welcome to it," Jim said, without a trace of regret or remorse. Aaron's face had turned hard as she ordered me to dress the children. Marigold had come out of the kitchen by then and gathered our bags.

I took the children in my arms, saying a short farewell to Jim, who moved out of the way to let Marigold and I pass. We didn't even have to go to the back of the house were the stable was. Aaron was waiting for us on the horse in front of the house. She had another horse, that she had tied with a rope to follow Jim's horse.

"Come on, we have no time to waist," Aaron said, holding the rope that held other horse tightly. Marigold had gotten up in the saddle with Aaron, were I took the other horse with the kids. We started off on the rock-paved road of Bradford. We went down the main street,until we headed on a dirt path, which was surrounded by trees.

We hadn't gone far, before Aaron clutched her stomach and cried out in pain. "What's wrong with you darlin'?" Marigold ask, as the horse began to rock back and forth. Marigold immediately seized control of the horse, as I got off of my mine with the kids and hurried to Jim's horse.

"The baby!" Aaron cried, tears sliding down her eyes. "It's coming!" I helped get Aaron off the horse, once placing her children on the ground. Aaron's eyes were tightly closed, and her hand would not leave her stomach.

"We have to go back," I said, guiding Aaron back to Bradford. "No!" Aaron hissed. "I wont go back, not to that fool."

"Aaron come on," I said, pulling her. "Don't be prideful, think of your child." Aaron gave up her struggling then, as I helped her walk back to town. Marigold was following behind, the kids up in the saddle with her as she led the other horse home.

Aaron's crying continued until she could not walk any longer. I sat her down on the ground and ordered Marigold to go back to town for a doctor. Aaron was on the ground panting as I tried to calm her. I opened her legs, and told her to tell me when the contractions came again. She told me in about five minutes. The baby was ready to come and I knew exactly what to do. This wasn't the first time I had been with Aaron when she delivered.

I told Aaron to start pushing. She did as I instructed her, and I could see the baby's head. She pushed two more times, screams filling the cold air. Soon the woods were filled with a babies crying.

"It's a boy," I said, smiling. "A beautiful boy with curly red hair, just like Jim." I handed the bloodied baby to Aaron. She smiled, tears coming to her eyes.

"Not quit," Aaron said, in a soft tone. "His hairs darker than Jims… that damn fool."

It began to rain that evening. Aaron was asleep in her room, Jim was pacing in front of the fire, and waiting for what we both knew was coming. I held Yule in my hands as she slumbered. She had fallen asleep when I was reading her a bed time story, her face innocent and peaceful unaware of the horror that would be brought with the storm.

Marigold came in at that moment her face scrubbed and her hair pulled back into a neater bun than she had usually been sporting while she worked in the fields. I didn't realize how better she was looking after she started living in my house.

"I checked on Aaron again to make sure she was alright," Marigold announced, sitting next to me on the satin chase couch. "You can't be to sure after what she's been through."

Jim looked back at us with regret in his eyes. "Is she alright and the baby?"

"Yes there both fine and sleeping," Marigold said, although her tone was cold. "No thanks to you," she added.

"I couldn't leave my families legacy," Jim said, firmly. "It was Aaron's stubbornness that brought this on her. If she had stayed like I'd said-"

"And risk her children's safety?" Marigold fumed. "She has children to consider. She's not free of responsibilities and worries like you are. Men don't think of anything but themselves."

"She was carrying my child!" Jim snapped. "Of course I cared! But she would have been better off with me then fleeing! She knew she was close to delivering!"

"Stop it you two!" I ordered. "Now is not the time for this. We have bigger problems." Before anyone could respond, there was a heavy knock on the door. Jim's face drained of color and Marigold sat up straight and looked back into the dark hallway.

The knocks continued and Jim snapped out of his trance. He went out of the living area and into the dark hallway. I couldn't stand the tension, so I placed Yule on the couch as I got up and went into the hallway, Marigold close behind me.

I couldn't believe my eyes. There a man, a giant stood in the doorway, with armor the color of coal and designs of strange red monsters carved into it. His face was dark, as well and when he spoke, it was as if a god was speaking.

"Who be you?" the god asked.

"I am Jima Uther, owner and president of Uther's Weaponries."

"So you are the famous Uther who supplies our enemies. I know are leader will be interested in you."

"Please sir," I said, coming to Jim's side. "Spare us. We are only women and children here."

"We usually take women for whores and either dispose of children or make them work. How old are the children?"

"A year and two," I replied softly. Jim cut in and said, "Sir, if you do no harm to my family, I will supply your men with as many weapons as you desire."

The god laughed a roaring laugh. "Why should we show you mercy for that? We could simply take your factory."

"Not without the secret code you cant. When my family built the company they made sure the security was top rate. Even if you try to take it over with force, there are no windows, and the floors are made of steel, so you cant go underground. Also the chimney is steel plated shut and will only open once the password is put in."

"Give me the password," the god ordered.

"Not unless you agree to keep me and my family on, safely, none of your men harming them."

"I can not make such promises. You must speak with the General." Jim stood firm and unafraid and replied, "Than I'll speak to your General. Lead me to him."

Chapter 3

The days went by slowly. The wind blew lightly, whispering there pain and regrets. I could not help wishing to die, for I knew we were traiters. The General, the monster, had agreed to allow us to stay on, promising not to harm us. He only asked that I be his bride, which Jim had tried to argue out of, but the General would not here of it.

So I sit in a Rogue tent made of animal skins, sipping horrible grass tea and smelling the bodies of men, awaiting for my servant. The General had insisted that I stay in the Rogues camp, under their watch as he went on to take over more of our Kingdom. He was to be back in five months and when he returned I would be his bride.

I hoped that he would be killed in battle before that time and that our forces would band together to destroy the Rogues. I hadn't been there long, but I realized every rumor about the Rogues were true. They were dirty people, who drank and fornicated all day and night. They sang unholy songs and showed themselves men or women to whoever they pleased.

Even the servant girl who had just entered my tent, had on a tight robe that showed her breast. She was a pretty freckled red head, with a kind smile, but she was probably a whore.

"Hello Miss," she said, kindly. I arose from my spot on the ground, as she undressed me. "Your getting thin Miss. Not good for a soon to be bride. Men like meat on a bride." I didn't know how I could be getting thinner; the food and the amount were overwhelming.

"I cant see how," I replied. "Girl - oh what is your name?"

"Joss, Miss," she said. "Joss the Officers wife." Once I was undressed she put my robe to the floor, and took a hot kettle off the fire. She poured it into a tin tub and putting a barley rag on the side of it.

"You're the wife of the God – I mean man that came to our house before I was taken in."

"Yes, Miss. But his names Hue, not God." She let out a little laugh and I blushed. "Oh, that's ok Miss. Most people think of him that way. He lives up to that too in warfare and his lovemaking." Naked and shivering I quickly got into the hot steaming bath.

"Do you two have any children?" I asked, thinking of Aaron, washing myself with a ruff rag.

"Yes, five children," the girl replied, giving me a bar of soup. "Three boys and two girls. Their growing up so fast, I want to have another one, but my husbands worries about my health."

"Aren't five enough?"

"Five is about regular amount of children most Rogues have, I think the highest was…" Joss thought for a moment. "Fifteen."

"Fifteen! Good Lord, knowone I've known has ever had over six!"

"Well, you know when the General comes back he's gonna want to have that many."

"He can have the children himself!" I snapped, "That's is if he comes back at all," I added in a whisper.

"What was that miss?" Joss said, folding my clothes and putting them in a trunk.

"Umm… nothing," I covered, rubbing the soap over my body.

When I finally was allowed to roam the streets, I was accompanied by Joss. She was a shapely woman, so everything she wore made her look available. Men would often look at us, but never say a word.

The streets had come alive, for the Rogues were loud voiceful people. They often wore bright colors and the women could wear tight dresses that had slits in the sides. I wore this knitted bright baby blue pladed vest, with a skirt that reached a little below my knees, that was also baby blue and wooden high heeled-sandals. The skirt was tight fitting, giving me some shape, but I was a little shy wearing this kind of thing.

All our clothing was loose, unless it was a fancy affair, were the women were allowed to were dresses that showed off there shoulders. But our dresses were always hooped ones, and our tops were mostly blouses.

The buildings had changed, they were no longer the old red bricked buildings or decaying marble structures, but brightly painted works of green, red, and yellow. Banners of the Rogues were hung in bright red and flowers seemed to line the windowsills.

It was a side of the Rogues I had never seen and didn't anticipate. They were colorful people, who seemed to have a freedom about them that I had never experienced. They said what they wanted, partied when they felt like it, and dressed like they pleased. I bet they married who they wanted as well.

For the first time in a long while, I thought of Kingo. What if we weren't promised to each other, would we have still have fallen in love? Would we have spent so much time together, learning and sharing? Would we even know each other's name?

"This is lovely," Joss said, making me come back to Earth. She was holding a red silky, under garment thing that seemed to leave nothing to the imagination.

"For who, a whore?" Joss shout me a look and I quickly recovered, "I mean, it's not something I would wear, but if you like it, I'm sure it'll look great on you."

Joss put the garment back down and turned to face me. "I know I might not seem as much of lady as you, miss. But we Rogues don't sleep with every man that comes to pass, inspite what you Republic people think. We are adventerious people, who like to experiment in every part of life, not holding anything back." I thought about what she said, as she tossed the garment into her bag.

The End (for now, maybe)