Disclaimer: I own nothing. Beka and Rosto belong to Tamora Pierce, as does anything else that exists in the universe of her books. The plot is mine and the song lyrics belong to their respective artists.

It's been a while since I posted anything longer than a oneshot on here. This is progress, though. This story is going to be a few chapters at the least. I don't know how many yet, but I've got several planned and I have a plot in mind. The chapters are going to be on the shorter side because I'm not going so much for action as the internal conflict and everything like that. It's more about the tone and feel of the piece as it progresses. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Don't forget to review!


"There is no love without sacrifice." – Princess Yue, The Last Airbender

I'm spinning out of control
Not knowing which way to go
Feelin' left out in the cold

- Outta Control; Thousand Foot Krutch

I.

Control

There was never any moment when it was a conscious thing before Port Caynn. There was never any moment where Rosto the Piper thought about his feelings for Beka Cooper and made a decision. Trying to woo her was a different sort of thing – she was a

challenge, and he loved a good challenge. He flirted with every pretty mot in sight – that was just something he did.

However, when the news of her romance reached his ears, he found that he was jealous. He was jealous of what the Dog, the one who eventually survived her ordeal out of sheer dumb luck, was doing. And the man she had chosen over him.

The part that bothered him the most was that it hurt. Her complete and utter rejection of him hurt, whereas all of (the few) times before, with anyone else, it had not so much as phased him. This, however… He could not understand why it actually hurt.

Every form of metaphorical salve that was applied to his ego in the following weeks failed in every sense of the word. She ignored him when she returned, ignored what he knew Ersken had told her upon his arrival in Port Caynn., and ignored the Court of the Rogue as much as she possibly could.

Ignoring the Rogue he could understand. Ignoring what he had done in attempt to make her jealous made sense to him, too. But ignoring him in general? That, he did not like. Perhaps it was his ego that caused it to bother him the most. Or perhaps it was the fact that he knew he had feelings for her now. He was sure of what they were, and not the least bit ashamed. Though, he did keep them entirely to himself.

To let her know would be weakness in the façade. It would allow someone to see the crack in his mask. He could not have that. He would not let his soft heart – particularly where Beka was concerned – destroy him. He swore that to himself.

Months passed before Rosto even realized it. Time passed around him without him caring. Nothing changed in their world – on the outside, all was the same. On the inside, however, loneliness had begun to creep in on him.

Loneliness and rejection did not sit well with him. He hated the feelings they left in their wake, hated the weakness that he felt. He was the Rogue, for Mithros' sake! He was the most powerful man in the city of Corus, and in most of Tortall. The only person who could truly rival his power was King Roger himself. Why was it that his power no longer meant anything?

Days blurred together, but the weakness, the ache, never left him. He watched her go about her business, pretending that she didn't have a care in the world. He knew better. He saw her expression when she left it unguarded, and the pain it held. There was nothing he would do about it. After all, he was the Rogue – and she did not care for him, his friendship, or anything that he had offered to her.

It was not long before he saw her for Happy Bag only. He stopped going to breakfast with her and their friends, despite the protests of Aniki and Kora. They wanted him there, even if Beka did not care. Rosto, however, was unwilling to put himself in a position that would cause him more pain.

Nearly a year after her return from Port Caynn, nothing had changed. He loved her from a distance, knowing that she would never accept him. For the first time, he was content with that lot in life. It would pass. Everyone had always told him that unreciprocated feelings would fade. That was how it was.

When he saw her being carried back to her apartment in Tunstall's arms, however, everything changed. Seeing Beka looking small and weak made his decision for him.

He could not say anything. He never could. Nor, in this case, did he feel that he needed to. She could never know what he would do for her if she asked. He could never let her have that power over him. Giving her that power would only lead to weakness.

Rosto the Piper was never weak. Not anymore. Once, that might have been the case, but he was certainly not going to let it happen again. He was in control. Always in control. He had to be.

He made this choice by his own free will. His choices had brought him there, and he would gladly pay this price.

Her icy blue eyes were never far from his mind.