Disclaimer: Rosto belongs to Tamora Pierce. Dax is mine, though.
A/N: I know it's been ages since I said this would be up in like a week. I got stuck, and distracted...and I'm not as happy with this as I would like to be, but it's pretty good, if only because I wanted to give Rosto (and Dax, in this case) some closure. Now, I'm going back to my much overdue chapter of Piper's Rain, and going to try to finish it tonight or tomorrow....so, here's the sequel to Those Nights...don't forget to review!!

Many years had passed since the day that Beka Cooper and Rosto the Piper had been together. Only a week and a half had passed since her death on duty.

Now, Rosto was kneeling in front of the gravestone when footsteps sounded behind him. A soft corona of torchlight fell upon the area around him. He didn't move. He didn't care if it was one of his own people or one of the Dogs. He was lost in his memories, yearning for the past to be real again.

Finally, he glanced back to see a young man in the uniform of a full Dog in the Provost's Guard. Rosto turned back to the stone, reading the inscription once more. He had it memorized by now.

Rebakah Cooper
The Terrier, Bloodhound, and Elkhound
230 H.E. – 279 H.E.

"Sometimes the hardest thing to do is the right thing.
As unfair as it seems, it must be done, no matter the cost."

The words were so typical of Beka that, had he been feeling anything other than grief and sadness, it might have made him laugh.

"I don't think she would have wanted you to take her death so hard," the young man behind him said. Rosto ignored him. The fire grew closer and a hand fell on his shoulder. "You're Rosto the Piper, aren't you?" The man asked. Rosto nodded, taking note of the Patten District speech compared to his own Lower City Common.

"So what if I am. Don't matter anymore," he muttered.

"I think it does. If you're not Rosto the Piper, then you're not my father, the man I went looking for at the Dancing Dove. They told me that you've frequented her grave since the day she died. I just wanted to talk to you," the young man said.

With seemingly deliberate slowness, Rosto got to his feet, turning towards the young man. Suddenly, he was overcome with a new wave of grief. Beka's blue eyes stared out of the young man's face.

"I don't think we've ever been properly introduced. My name is Dax Cooper." Rosto watched him sadly, shaking his head a little.

"You're the son we gave up," he said softly. Dax nodded.

"That I am. Mother told me about you. She told me stories about the King of the Rogue who had nobly let her go after I was born. She visited me every week at the Provost's house until I turned fifteen, when I moved into the Puppy barracks. She always had new stories about what you and the others were up to," Dax said. He gave a half-smile when he thought about some of the funnier stories Beka had told him about his father and their housemates.

"That was how Beka was," Rosto told him. "She always went out of her way to make sure everyone was at home at the Dove," he continued softly.

"I think she was still in love with you, even at the end," Dax suddenly spoke up. His grip on the torch wavered just a bit, making the firelight dance around the gravestones. "The way she talked about you made it seem like she really did still love you…" Rosto looked back at Dax, the tears evident in his dark eyes.

"I loved her through it all, too. But I made a promise. Even if I've always been crooked at heart, I loved your mother, but I never break a promise I make, no matter what the cost. I paid for that promise with my heart," Rosto said, looking back at the stone that marked his former lover and best friend's grave. "I loved her, but it wasn't enough," he whispered to himself. Dax did not hear that last sentence, and Rosto was glad of it.

To know that Beka had still loved him before her death, that made him both joyful and crushed him at the same time. She had still loved him, even though she had been the one who had ended their romance. She had ended it and broken his heart, forcing them into the platonic relationship of being best friends for most of the last twenty-five years.

"Some promises were meant to be broken, but if you loved her enough to keep your promise to her, you were every bit as good a man as she made you out to be in her stories. She painted you as a hero of the Lower City, like she was. You were two people who made a difference, and loved each other even though everyone around you said it was wrong. I'd like to get to know you, if you'll let me," Dax said.

Rosto let out a sigh, running his fingers over the flecked stone once more. "She painted me as a hero of the Lower City, did she?" He asked softly. That amused him. Anyone who lived in the Lower City said that the Rogue, the Rat-King, was the worst man in the City. They said he was greedy, that he was unfair, but Beka…of course she had said it differently. They had been so close that she had known who he was so intimately that she could name things about him that he himself hadn't realized. He could have done the same for her. She had always seen the good in him. She had always been good to him.

That was another thing he constantly remembered about her. She had always been kind to him after their romance had ended. Especially kind, because she knew what she had done to him, how much she had hurt him, even if she had hurt herself just as much. And she had known that he still loved her.

In retrospect, Rosto was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, she had done the right thing after all. There had been no chance for them in the world they lived in. He had been the Rogue – he still was – and she was a Dog.

He had once heard a man who had fallen in love with a young woman who had gone on to marry another say something that he was suddenly sure was true about him. Their paths had always been intertwined; joined for a short time, then separated again, winding down the path of their lives, so close, and yet, so far. As much as Rosto hated to admit it, Beka had been right. They never would have been allowed to stay together, whether by her Dogs, or his Court. He both loved and hated facts like that, but it was true. As people, they had been meant to be, but as Rogue and Dog, they couldn't be. That was how their lives had become, and how hers had ended.

Rosto stepped away from the stone, coming to stand in front of his son, who was just a hair shorter than he was. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the torch waver in Dax's hand. He reached out his own hand and put it over his son's, steadying the torch.

"Your mother was a hero, I never was, even if she made it seem like I was. I did the best I could to use my position to help the people of the Lower City. I loved Beka, and I'm thankful for the time I had with her; I wish I could go back to that time. But I'm not the man you think I am, Dax. I wish I could be, but I'm not. I kept my promise because I always keep my word when I give it. Take care, son. Maybe I'll see you again."

With that, Rosto turned and walked away. His mind was in turmoil, but his heart was content. Beka had loved him, just as he had loved her. Even if everything they had been through had come to an end, he could remember her in peace now.

A/N: Review, please! It only takes a minute!

Posted 12/16/08