Beka awoke to a glorious smell. Someone had been to get breakfast already this morning. She heard a slight metallic sound as the lock clicked open from the outside. "Why do I even bother?" she muttered.

"Because, fortunately for you..." came a familiar voice "I surpass most in my profession."

Achoo growled half-heartedly as Rosto entered but her tail wagged in friendly greeting.

Mrt Pounce laughed. You know, Beka, they say dogs emulate their handlers.

Beka tossed a pillow at Pounce, praying the comment had been for her ears only.

If Rosto heard he said nothing as he dropped his peace offering on her desk. "Did you sleep well, puppy?" he asked watching her carefully.

"Yes, of course. You?"

"A lovely evening."

Pounce laughed again. If you two ever start to actually communicate to each other there will be celebrations in the divine realms, he purred.

Rosto ignored the comment. " I suggest you get up. Aniki and Kora will be here soon," Rosto told her before sauntering back to his own rooms ... locking the door behind him.

Now he's just showing off...

She yawned as she got up and began to change quickly, not wanting to get caught unaware when Rosto snuck back in. It was too early. She had not really slept well and had a vague recollection of an unsettling dream involving the dancing dove. The details were lost to her though, and she didn't care to remember them anyway.

Suddenly Beka heard a loud commotion from the direction of Kora's room. Looby, she thought with a smile. By the time Rosto had picked the lock again she was finishing up tying her braid, weaving the spikes in carefully. Aniki and Kora were with him this time and they smelled faintly of smoke.

"You could just knock," Aniki suggested as Rosto pushed the door open. "Beka, at least, doesn't throw fire when startled.

"This way is faster" Rosto replied, shrugging nonchalantly, but he just couldn't keep that smug look out of his eyes. It was too early to argue. Breakfast was delicious and Rosto seemed to be in an unusually good mood.

"Oh, what is it," Beka finally snaps as he begins an overblown soliloquy on the pleasantness of the morning. "You are never this energetic in the morning."

"Our friend is out of hiding."

"Officially?" Aniki asks, suddenly fully awake.

Rosto hands her the note and Beka's face paled considerably. "This is good news, Beka," Rosto reminds her. "We have been looking for weeks, now it will be finished by sunrise tomorrow." She nods. It was true, of course, but breathing had become considerably more difficult for her.

Breakfast ended on a more serious note than it had begun on. Kora disappeared, muttering something about finishing charms and gathering supplies. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," Rosto said lightheartedly. Aniki also left, heading to the Dove to make sure no tricks would give the challenger an advantage that night. Rosto stayed behind to help Beka clean up. "Don't be so glum, Puppy."

"I'm not being, glum. I'm just concerned."

"Concerned for me, Beka?" he cried in mock humility. "didn't know you cared."

"Be serious Rosto... this is not a game!" She turned away in frustration.

A crash forced her to glance back. The challenger's blade vibrated violently, now embedded into her wall. "I have done this before, Beka." He said quietly, the calmness of his voice clashing starkly with the violence of the throw. "And I'm still alive. I know exactly what this is. And of course I am in a good mood, I stand a much better chance in the open then I do against intrigues."

Beka colored, and crossed the room to sit next to Rosto. There was silence for a few moments, words seeming superfluous.

Rosto touched her cheek, tracing her jaw line slowly with one hand. His hands were cool but heat radiated from where he touched her. Beka knew what was coming and tensed defensively. Rosto leaned forward, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. This one was different, somehow. It was not flirtatious or triumphant, sneaky or teasing. It was simple, or perhaps more accurately it simply was. It felt perfect, of course, sarden spintry. She was supposed to punch him, but he faces a challenger not 12 hours from now; she couldn't very well break his nose right before he fought for his life. That sounds reasonable, right? she asked herself as he pulled away.

"I love you, Rebakah Cooper."

Beka's heart races, her stomach knots, and muscles clench begging to flee. Fear, excitement and anxiety battle for supremacy. She is angry, no that isn't quite right... she is thrilled, that's not right either. Her mind races and she opens her mouth to speak. She has to tell him she is a Dog. Or something. She has to tell him something...

"Please don't Beka," he whispers. "I just, I need you to know that today."

She closes her mouth, still not entirely certain what she had planned on saying anyway. Why does this sound like goodbye, Beka thinks distractedly.

"You shouldn't be there, Love." Her heart races again at the name that now seems dangerously serious.

"I have to be there." Her voice was calm, despite confused emotions.

"You won't be able to do anything, and if I lose it could be chaos. Aniki would probably issue her own challenge immediately. This game he has been playing breaks the Rogue's own law." He laughed at Beka's skeptical look. "Yes Beka, that really is important to us. Intrigues are not ...honorable. Laugh if you must, but if he wins, people will get rowdy."

"I will be there," She repeated stubbornly.

"If he has his own supporters there could be a civil war in that hall by the time the night is over." Beka's look was concerned now and Rosto continued quickly. ""He would lose either way, the only question is if he survives an hour or two."

He was smiling but Beka just looked uneasy. "Why are you talking like this?"

He shrugged, "This is how it works. Someday someone faster or stronger will kill me. I didn't get into this life expecting a peaceful retirement. If he does kill me tonight is it so wrong to enjoy the fact that he will lose anyway?"

His smile dropped away and he looked serious for a moment. "To be honest, Beka, If I leave that hall, it will be with blood on my hands. I don't want you to see it either way."

"Rogues' challenges have immunity from the kings law," She responds quickly. "I won't hobble you..."

"That's not why, Beka, you know that."

She still didn't move, but her eyes grew cold and determined. She looked directly at him, "Could you choose to not be there if the fight was mine?"

Rosto sighed, "You and Kora should stay off to the side." Beka attempted to interrupt but Rosto elaborated, "to watch the crowd, Beka. I need someone to make sure nothing is happening that I can't see. Riots are not exactly unheard of on challenge days. I might not be able to stop it this time."

"You'll win, Rosto. You always win."

He nodded, "I will. One way or the other." Rosto stood to take a couple steps towards the door. Then he paused and Beka wondered if he is going to turn around and kiss her again. He didn't turn though, and the unspoken goodbye stretched silently between them.

She stood too, watching a silent battle in progress. He was unable to leave and unwilling to turn; it was her move. Suddenly her silence seemed cowardly, she had to say something.

"Please be careful." It was an unnecessary request and she knew it, but she could think of nothing else.

"Always." He still didn't turn but he smiled to himself as he left her room. Beka sank back down onto the bed.

Pounce was watching her from the window. If he dies you'll wish you kissed him back.

"He always wins."

No one always wins. Not you, and certainly not him.

"Are you trying to tell me that he will lose?"

Of course not. I do not know, nor could I tell you if I did. What I said is true regardless.

"I'll not fall for this game. He can get his "death-day" kisses from some other mot."

She was talking to herself, Pounce was gone.


Word spread quickly in the court of the Rogue and the hall was busier than it had been in months. Challenges were always a spectacle. Dissidents come to see the downfall of their enemies; allies make sure they have chosen the right side. The latter were more common of late. Rosto enjoyed his power, certainly, but he also did not forget his responsibilities as previous Rogue's had. Not to mention he was the best knife fighter in the memory of any rusher around. So many just came for the show. Knives could be nearly as deadly in an unpracticed hand as in a master's, so Rosto could not just be good with a blade himself; he had to be fast enough to prevent an unpredictable novice's blows as easily as a stab for a predictable target. Unfortunately for the hot-blooded rushers who most often challenged him, Rosto was that fast. A good number of challengers had even changed their mind and bolted once faced with the Rogue one-on-one. Rosto let them go with a laugh, but it was well understood that they would not survive being seen in court again. Volatile cowards were of little use anyway, and 'reformed challengers' deserted the city within hours.

This was going to be different, and Rosto was not the only one who knew it. Surviving for a month with Rosto the Piper, his entire court and the Dogs looking for you was a unique feat, and rushers came from far and wide to see what sort of a man could accomplish it.

Rosto and Aniki looked regal on the dais tonight while Beka and Kora had resigned themselves to a nearby table positioned so that they could see more easily than be seen. Even Achoo was not oblivious to the tension, she paced back and forth under the table nervously as they waited.

Finally a hush moved through the crowd as the guest of honor made his appearance. His hair was dark now and she wondered if he had changed it to frame Rosto or later to hide from him. He was alone, so far as Beka could tell. Beka flushed with anger and wondered briefly what would happen if she just launched herself at the man before he even made his challenge. It wouldn't be good. She knew that she was just angry with the man that had tried to kill her; but it would look like she was protecting Rosto.

Everyone fell silent, everyone except Rosto, Aniki and the small group that surrounded them. These continued to converse as if they had not noticed anything out of the ordinary. Gradually the crowd began to murmur again though every eye followed the challenger. Beka smiled slowly in admiration. Rosto and Aniki were going to force the challenger to request an audience, despite the fact that everyone in the room knew why he was there. The man looked irritated, and approached the dais haughtily. "I, Flain, challenge Rosto the Piper for the right to this throne." He had put one foot on the dais. Aniki glanced down at the man condescendingly. "Do you have no idea how this court works?" She scoffed loudly. Never hurts to question challengers' qualifications right from the start, Rosto thought, smiling to himself. Aniki continued in a patronizing voice. "Official court business is not conducted without requesting an audience of the Rogue, and no one steps on the dais without permission." The challenger took one step back and she smiled, feigning compassion. "You are new; we will overlook your blunder."

Beka had to give the man credit. He remained utterly calm with the exception of one tell. One hand clenched tightly, aching to be done with the formalities. Rosto and Aniki were ready to react if needed, but he wouldn't attack yet. He would not want to leave any doubt that he had won a fair fight. "It is cowardly to hide behind such things," Flain growled. His voice dripped with venom as he requested his audience.

Rosto laughed, "What gall, to call me a coward after taunting me from hiding for a month."

With the eerie calm with which he had told Beka she was more useful dead, he repeated his challenge. Rosto finally stood. "You may not know this," he emphasized, "but any injury to an outside party during a challenge will void the exclusivity of the fight." Rosto smiled, it's chill made Beka shiver. "I will not stop my rushers from taking their vengeance if you kill other members of my Court."

At that comment the crowded rushers backed a few steps further from the combatants. A good view was one thing but most did not want to join this fight.

"They always said a foreigner could not hold this throne. Now that they are used to the idea, it's time for a Rogue that doesn't fraternize with Dogs," Flain spat loudly.

Rosto ignored the bluster. This was part of the show, appeal to the court to reduce the chances of an immediate coup should he win. Rosto did not have to play that game, he was a good Rogue and most of the court was content with his leadership. The challenger was a coward, everyone could see that. For a moment he almost felt sorry for him. So much planning, scheming and he didn't even understand the Rogue's most basic law.

Rosto removed a sheathed blade from his belt, holding it out for Flain to see. "You gave this to a friend of mine, do you remember?"

The challenger was armed now too and both were watching the other intently. Flain charged, it looked offensive but he kept his hands close. Rosto threw the empty sheath at his attacker as he stepped sideways and forward. Closing the distance faster than Flain had anticipated, Rosto knocked the approaching blade outwards and punched Flain in the throat. The challenger dropped but he took Rosto with him with a strike to the knee.

The two fighters traded blows at an astonishing pace, with flashes of red appearing on their clothing with each near miss. They slowed briefly as both fighters became trapped in the other's grip, each trying to create the advantage. Suddenly Rosto dropped his blade. It clattered loudly to the floor and Flain moved to protect himself from the perceived threat. This allowed Rosto to shift the momentum in his favor and a sudden strike to a defensive blade forced the challengers own blade backwards into his chest. He cried out in pain but rebounded before Rosto could pull out another weapon. He pelted Rosto with a series of blows that Rosto blocked with forearms alone now. Arm sheaths provided some protection but Beka winced. Locking up his attacker's knife-wielding arm Rosto briefly lost track of the other until a stab of pain in his shoulder alerted him that Flain had reached one of his throwing knives.

With teeth gritted in pain Rosto twisted the hand he had trapped and pushed Flain across the room. The man stayed down, cradling his wrist, which Rosto had badly broken. Rosto had other concerns in the few moments of relief he had so preciously earned. He glanced down as the blood flowed freely from his shoulder.

There was muttering in the crowd. Fast as it had been, no challenger had ever lasted this long against Rosto, and their Rogue did not look quite as invincible as he had mere moments earlier. Beka had stopped breathing, stopped moving, was frozen in place. Then, she felt the irresistible urge to leap into the circle herself. She was pulling forward without realizing it but Kora's vise-like grip held her in place. "I know, Beka... But you can't interfere. You know that...he told you that."

With some distance now separating the injured fighters, Rosto risked a glance towards where Beka was sitting. Well, half-sitting, half-standing, trying distractedly to pull herself from Kora's grip. As his piercing eyes found hers she seemed to remember herself. She stopped fighting Kora, but neither sat.

Rosto knew he would soon become lightheaded. He could already feel weakness in his muscles and fogginess in his mind as his body struggled to cope. Without wrapping the wound he had only a minute or two before his strength and reaction time became severely impaired by the blood loss. This has to end now, Rosto thought, or I die right here, tonight. A small voice in the back of his mind asked insistently: Would she mourn for me... cry for me? He stiffened, glancing towards Beka once more; she will not watch me die. He drew his collar knife as Flain recovered once more to charge furiously.

Beka cringed as she watched Rosto backing towards the wall. The wound must be affecting him already if he is losing so much ground, so quickly. He continued to block the fury of blows raining down, but Beka knew the desperate defense would not last. Soon Rosto was pinned against the wall; Kora's grip on Beka's arm tightened and both realized they were watching the end of Rosto the Piper.

This isn't possible, Beka thought. The Dog in her knew that this fight was over. They had been evenly matched but now Rosto was weakening with every beat of his heart. Beka's mind screamed for her to do something. This is wrong, how can I just stand here and watch him be killed?

Lindengi, Achoo. The words felt like a physical weight, she so desperately wanted to say them. That is all it would take to protect him. I could claim Achoo was being badly behaved... No one would believe it, but it might save him regardless.

The Dog began to plan for the chaos that will envelop the lower city with a man like Flain in charge, however briefly. She should be monitoring the crowd to determine the likelihood of a brawl. But she couldn't look away, and her mind still protested:

Rosto always gets up.