A/N: Thanks for the reviews. ^.^
Warning: Language.
Disclaimer: A Dance with Rogues is the property of Valine.
From Blacksmith to Blackguard
"Where did you get your sword?"
"Hmm?" Vico looked up from the whetstone he'd been staring at for the last ten minutes. His gaze had been fixated on the hypnotic rhythm of the stone against the blade and he seemed caught off guard by my sudden question.
"I asked you where you got your sword," I repeated as I propped myself up on one elbow in our shared bedroll. I'd been dozing for the last half-hour, but for some reason sleep was elusive.
"Oh." Something about his somewhat dazed expression made me wonder what he'd been thinking about while he was sharpening his prized weapon. "I made it."
I felt my eyebrows rise in surprise – I hadn't expected that for an answer. "Made it? As in…from scratch?"
He nodded slowly and began passing the stone along the blade once more. "Forged and enchanted by yours truly. And never wielded by another's hand." His voice dropped almost too low for me to hear. "She is mine and mine alone."
Something about his expression and tone gave me the impression that he wasn't just speaking of the blade, but I decided not to think too hard about the implications. "I have a hard time picturing you as a blacksmith."
He smirked and winked at me, though if he was aiming for a lighthearted expression he was failing miserably. "I wasn't born cutting throats, you know."
"It wouldn't surprise me if you were."
He shrugged and looked back down at his sword. "We all started as something else. Didn't we, kitchen girl?"
The corner of my mouth twitched but I maintained a thoughtful expression. "Point." Vico did not respond and I was in danger of losing his attention to the sharpening of his blade, so I pressed on. "Were you Igor's apprentice, then?"
"Smart girl," he answered. He didn't seem in the mood for idle talk but obviously he realized I was, so he indulged me. "I was fifteen when the family took me in. I had to do something to pull my weight."
I nodded slowly. "I know the feeling. I can't imagine you enjoyed the work…."
"Probably as much as you enjoyed washing dishes," he replied with a shrug. "But it was work. And doing something was better than doing nothing."
He fell back into his rhythm, his face dark with brooding thoughts. I sighed and stretched out on my back, gazing up at the inky blackness overhead and letting my mind wander. I suppose Vico's moodiness was contagious and I found myself lost in thoughts about Betancuria, the Bear Pit, my apartment. "Do you ever wish we just had a normal life?" I abruptly found myself asking with a touch of bitterness.
There was surprise on the dark knight's face when I glanced over at him, his hand pausing on the sword for a moment. I had the impression he'd been thinking similar thoughts. "What the hell does 'normal' mean?" he grumbled almost defensively.
"Oh I don't know." I sighed and stretched before rolling back onto my side to look at him. "A job that doesn't include slicing people's throats. A hot meal that consists of more than watered down soup and hardtack. Hell, at this point I'd settle for a bed and a roof over my head."
To my surprise, his expression lightened as I spoke, a small smile turning up the corner of his mouth as he suddenly put his sword aside and came to sit beside me on our bedroll. He leaned over me and propped himself up with one arm behind my back while he ran a callused finger across my cheek and smirked down at me. "So you expect me to believe you'd play the sweet little housewife, cooking dinner for your hardworking man, having babies, knitting, sewing, sweeping…?" He trailed off and laughed aloud at the expression on my face. "You'd be bored within a week."
"Maybe," I admitted grudgingly, but I snuggled against him and rested my hand on his knee. "I haven't a clue how to knit, or sew for that matter. I suppose anyone can sweep…and I can try to cook…."
Vico shook his head in mocking distress. "No, no. That won't be necessary."
"Shut up." I slapped his leg lightly and he chuckled under his breath. "As for babies…." I faded off and gave him a calculating look, but his face was neutral, perhaps a bit expectant. I'd be lying if I said the idea of having children had never occurred to me – after all, that is the almost inevitable outcome when one has sex regularly – but it had never crossed my mind that Vico might also think about it. "Do you really think that's such a good idea?" I asked carefully.
"Why not?" he asked, his expression playful but also thoughtful. "I need a Vico Jr. to carry on my legacy, right?"
I snorted, "What legacy?" but my cheeks were burning as I flushed at the thought of having his child. The very idea left me feeling overwhelmingly afraid and excited in turns, especially since he seemed so open to it. "You do realize it could be a girl."
"That's okay," he murmured as he leaned down to brush a kiss across my lips. "We can name her Vico Jr. too."
I couldn't help but laugh, yet I felt sobered by the weight of the idea of having a child, the responsibility of a new life in my hands. I shifted my face back from him a little to look levelly into his dark eyes. "We're murderers," I said flatly, neither shame nor pride in my tone. It was what we were, after all. "We're fugitives. The Dhorn will never stop hunting me. Any child of ours would be…."
"Would be safe," Vico interrupted, his expression suddenly fierce. "I would make sure of it. You know I'll protect you."
I loved that proud, determined look he wore at moments like that, and I had to smile at him. "I know," I assured him with a squeeze of his knee. "It's just hard for me to picture us as parents."
He shrugged. "I think we'd do just fine. Our kid wouldn't grow up a blind fuck up like other kids. I'd teach him…or her…how to survive, how to take what he needs instead of just sitting on his ass waiting for someone to hand it to him. And you…well you could teach him how to burn water and make bread rolls into flaming projectiles."
That time I smacked him in earnest, but he just laughed and gently pinned me down by my arms. "That only happened once," I snapped, but I was smiling in spite of myself. He tilted his head down and kissed my throat playfully and I sighed contentedly. "I never imagined you'd want to be a father, Vico."
He pulled back and gave me a very serious, searching stare. "I didn't." He dipped his mouth close to my ear, sending warm shivers down my shoulder even as my heart melted at the loving look I'd seen in his eyes. "Until I found you."
