Disclaimer: It isn't mine. If it was, I wouldn't be having issues about the lack of Rosto in Bloodhound.....
A/N: Another missing moment! This one was requested by Navigator101, who suggested it when I was talking to her last night, otherwise I never would have thought of it! I've got one more that I'm going to be writing at the moment, and then I'll be done with missing moments for a while and back to other random oneshots of my usual genre. And I'm not as pleased with this one as I was with Mad As A Bear With A Thorn In His Paw, but it's still pretty good in my opinion. Anyway, don't forget to review!
Rosto the Piper was very warm under his blanket; that was all he was aware of when a sudden hand on his shoulder and a slight shake jerked him awake. Rosto's hand snaked under his pillow and back out again before he knew what was going on. He blinked sleepy eyes at the shadow that stood over him, his whole body tense.
"Rosto! Oh, wake up, would you?" Kora demanded. Rosto relaxed and flopped over, pulling the sheath for his knife out from under the pillow. He brushed messy strands of blond hair out of his eyes as he looked up at her, propped up on his elbow.
"Kora? Wha's going on?" he asked, his voice somewhat slurred from sleep. He had been sleeping deeply – that did not often happen to him, even when he felt like he was at his safest.
"Beka's been attacked," she said softly. Rosto shot up in bed, his dark eyes wide.
"What? What happened? When? Why didn't I hear of this?" he demanded. Kora held up her hand to silence him, shifting her weight visibly in the morning light.
"There were two coves beating her when I heard Achoo barking. I don't know what happened, but they stopped fighting the dog and fled when they saw me. I would have…." she stopped, pressing her lips tightly together in anger. "They would have regretted it more is all I can say. "Get dressed. Beka's not doing well, and I need to go wake Aniki, too," Kora told him.
Rosto was out of bed before Kora had even walked a pace. He pulled on a pair of breeches and a shirt over his light sleeping cloths and picked up several of his daggers, strapping them on hurriedly. He ran a hand through his pale blond hair, pausing only to glance in the mirror to make sure it wasn't flying everywhere as he pulled it back into a horsetail.
He jerked his door open and then closed it behind him, racing down the stairs. He had barely reached the doorway when he heard more footsteps behind him. He stopped dead in the doorway, his hear aching at what he saw. It was clear that Kora had not moved her at all, the way she was sprawled on the ground with Achoo standing watch over her.
Fresh bruises, so new that they were an ugly reddish-purple color, littered her skin, and one of her arms was clearly broken, at the very least. He could tell that there were more injuries that he couldn't see, as well. It pained him to see her like this – hurt and helpless. It wasn't the Beka he knew for her to seem so helpless. She didn't seem like the same mot who had looked like she had wanted to throw something at him the other day. It did scare him a little, though he would not admit it to anyone.
Glancing over his shoulder to see Kora and Aniki on the stairs, he walked over to Beka, kneeling and resting a finger on her neck to feel her pulse. It was a steady beat, but erratic between pain and the adrenaline that she had to have felt when she was suddenly jumped. He glanced at the two mots as they moved swiftly out the door to join him.
"We should get her inside," he said quietly, rising from the crouch. "Aniki, run to the Kennel and get the healer there. And wherever Goodwin is to tell her that Beka's not coming today and why," he said. Aniki nodded and started off. He turned back to Beka when Kora put her hand on his shoulder.
"Don't move her. She could have a neck or back injury that will be difficult to heal if you add to it by moving her. You need to wait for the healer before you move her, Rosto," she said sharply. Rosto sighed.
"You're right. I hadn't thought of that," he admitted sheepishly. It wasn't often that any of them got him to react in such a way. He turned again and crouched down next to Beka once more, stroking one side of her face softly. He watched her sadly, checking her pulse and breathing every few moment to make sure that she was still all right.
He did not know what he would do if she died because of this. He was going to get his revenge for it, oh, yes, but if she died… He pushed away those thoughts before they could make him even more morbid than he already felt just then. It was an 'if', not a 'when' right now. It could be a 'when' again later, but not now. Now, she had to stay alive and get better with the help of a healer. That was the only good solution to the situation.
'At least it isn't because of me that she was jumped,' he thought to himself. 'I hope it wasn't because of me and her being in the same lodging house as me after all,' he added. A slight frown creased his handsome features as he looked down at her. For all he knew it could very well be because she lived upstairs and they were friends that she was attacked. It might have been that the coves that had jumped her had been planning to jump him and she had only gotten unlucky and walked out the door while they were waiting for him.
Rosto shifted into a sitting position, closing his eyes and leaning his head back for a moment. This was not something that should have happened. There were so many questions flooding his mind now. And why hadn't the landlady come screeching out after hearing Achoo? That was a complete mystery. Not that he really cared or wanted it – it would be easier to deal with this if Mistress Trout did not get involved in it. He sighed again, rubbing his eyes tiredly for a moment.
He would have to do something about this, even if it wasn't for Beka's sake – that was his personal motive, but he had to have another one. He had to make sure that no one knew that he was going to do it for her except for their friends. It was unacceptable that someone who lived at the very heart of the Rogue, where Rosto himself lived, to have been attacked like this. It was as if…as if it was King Roger and someone in his household. Rosto was the King of Thieves and considering what had happened, he had every right to exact revenge on the folk who did this to her. It would look bad if he didn't. At least, that was how it worked in his head…
It took a while before Aniki returned, and she was not alone. Rosto had moved back into a kneeling position again so that he could check Beka's pulse once more when the footsteps reached his ears. He glanced over his shoulder to see Aniki and several other people, Goodwin included.
That was his cue to disappear. The Dogs wouldn't want the Rogue around when they were talking about business such as that and most of them didn't like him to begin with. He could check on Beka later, he assured himself. If she was in the hands of the Dogs, they wouldn't let her die, he was certain of that. She was too good a Dog to be allowed to do so unless she was injured much worse than it seemed.
Rosto rose and moved away as the small group came closer. He paused to cast a last silent glance at the mot who had unwittingly captured his heart. She could never know that his flirting was more than just something he expected to have pushed away. Nor that he loved her or that he worried about her while she was at Watch and he was at his Court for the evening.
The red-purple bruises made him wince once more before he finally tore his warm dark brown gaze from Beka. He softly returned to his room. Kora hadn't said a word since she had reprimanded him for considering moving Beka, and she did not follow him as he passed.
He close the door to his room behind him, turning for a moment. He considered locking the door, but it would be pointless – undoubtedly, someone would try to come and find him soon and a locked door in that case was a nuisance. He brushed the strands of white-blond hair that had come loose from his horsetail back and stripped his shirt off again. He flopped down on his bed again and dozed for a while, unable to do anything else. His next conscious thought was that he hoped that Beka would be all right…