Gah. SCHOOL IS KILLING ME.

Sorry for the wait. The only thing saving me is that my parents are out of town and have no idea I'm on the computer this late; so, I got to have some cherished free time and am uploading this chapter. Hope you enjoy- it's one of my favorites, despite it being so angsty!

Thanks to my beta, Lioness's Heart. She's awesome :)

Orange: Desire; Passion; Excitement

Rosto stood outside her door, watching as the young Dog moved about her room, unpacking. Her stiffness wasn't uncommon- after all, she had spent a long time on horseback, and had just come back from a healing- but what really scared him was her expression. It was blank, devoid of any emotion. Her eyes were haunted, still seeing things that could not be healed with all the magic in the world. She looked as though all life had been stripped from her, leaving a soulless husk capable of only the most basic jobs- eat, sleep, walk, sit, and look, but not see. Even Achoo, who was normally immune to her handler's tempers, whined at Beka's lack of them.

"Beka?" He asked as she paused. "Welcome back." He hesitated. She was looking at him, still devoid of emotion. "I just… congratulations, I suppose." He said. "I heard you brought the Prince back." Still, she didn't respond- his concern reached new heights. "Beka? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She replied, but the response seemed too automatic to be true. She didn't look 'fine'. In fact, she looked as far from 'fine' as he had ever seen her. Talking to him would be 'fine'. Complaining about what happened at Watch would be 'fine'. Rolling her eyes at his flirting would be 'fine'. Denying her various cuts and bruises and insisting she was ok despite her winces and quiet gasps of pain were 'fine'. Staring at him as though he was a ghost was not 'fine'.

He went up to her, afraid to touch her, lest he frighten her off. "You're not fine," he said quietly. "I know you, Beka. This isn't you. What happened?"

She swayed, staring up at him with unfocused eyes. "What . . . happened . . . ?" She whispered, and he reached out to steady her. At his contact, a jolt seemed to run through her- eyes widening, she gasped, "No!" and slammed into him, sobbing.

Startled, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Whining, Achoo gently butted their legs, clearly wondering what was going on and how she could help. They ignored her- Rosto was busy trying to figure out how he could stop Beka from crying, and Beka was too busy crying to revel in the fact that she was in Rosto's arms. All in all, it was a moment both of them would normally have jumped at the chance to have- if it weren't for the fact that Beka was sobbing her heart out.

Eventually, she began to tell him, haltingly, how she had tracked the Prince throughout most of Tortall, and parts of Galla, Tyra, and Barzun. He stayed silent throughout the whole story. Right now she needed his support, not interruptions. He knew she would tell the whole story, and if she glossed over some details, he didn't care.

Slowly, she said how, when the Prince was first discovered missing, she, Tunstall, and Nathanial were on patrol in Dockmarket, breaking up a bar fight. During that process Beka overheard a few people talking about a 'stolen brat', and how he was more trouble than they thought. A spoiled child, they said, shouldn't be making such a fuss, and should be crying in the corner. Thinking they were child slavers, she hobbled them, bringing them to the cages. After the cage dogs had their way, she learned they were part of a bigger conspiracy- namely, kidnapping the Prince. They were only two of the many guards, though- but even two were enough to let her track the place the Prince had last been. With that information, she and her two partners began to follow the trail, Pounce and Achoo following along with them.

The crown provided them with horses, foods, and weapons, though Beka had denied all metal but a small dagger. Nathanial, however, had some archery practice, and chose a crossbow. Tunstall kept his usual gear. He had teased his Puppy about his crossbow for several days, until they were ambushed by bandits. when Nathanial fired an arrow and struck a bandit in the leg, he had undoubtedly saved Tunstall's life, since the bandit was about to plunge a dagger in Tunstall's back. He had stopped teasing after that, and was grateful for it when Nathanial also provided meals.

Achoo followed the scent all the way to Galla, where they were attacked by road bandits, ambushes laid by the captors, wild animals, and once, a jealous cove whose wife had been flirting with Tunstall. They had also met allies- village people who pointed their way when Achoo lost the scent, a woodsman who wanted a little adventure and knew routes to gain time on their enemies, and help from local pigeons whenever they came to a town or city. Once, during a time they were trying to rescue the Prince in a small town, Beka had taken a nasty wound in the stomach, and Tunstall had said they had nearly died getting her out of there. They had lost three days waiting for her to recover, and by the time they reached Galla, Achoo had lost the trail. If it hadn't been for a helpful beggar who was at the right place at the right time, they wouldn't have found their destination- only to find it was a trap.

Apparently, the trail had split a few days out of Corus. One group consisting of several mages and three rushers took the north route. Another, consisting of one mage, two rushers, and the Prince, headed east and then cut down south. The one who had travelled north to Galla had created several simulacrums, which were only illusions of the Prince and the missing rushers. Beka, Tunstall, and Nathanial walked into the waiting arms of a group more than five times their size. Only after fighting a losing battle, one that resulted in Nathanial's death and them getting thrown in jail, did they overhear what had really happened.

Beka, who at that point shut off all feeling, would have given up then and there had the woodsmen and Pounce not broken them free. Though still sorely wounded, Tunstall and Beka took the time to give Nathanial a proper burial, and then stole some horses, as theirs had been left back in Tortall under a Baron's protection. Now with a clear destination, they headed as fast as they could to Tyra, where the captors were to take a boat to Barzun. They had to switch mounts frequently, by honest and not-so-honest means- but they were desperate, at that point. Their targets had several weeks' head start, and Beka knew they wouldn't have squandered the time. They were no doubt already in Tyra, and most likely about to take the ship to Barzun, where the game would be lost.

Only upon arriving in Tyra did they realize that the gods had a hand in their quest, for the two rushers had been arrested upon arrival in Tyra for horse theft. The mage, who had no idea how to handle a five-year-old on his own nor wanted too, wasted a week trying to find new guards, and another trying to find a way to locate his contacts in Barzun, since his arrested partners had been the ones to deal with the man who hired him- they were guides as much as guards. When Beka, Tunstall, Pounce, Achoo, and the woodsmen finally arrived in the port city, they were able to locate the mage's whereabouts thanks to the two dead rushers riding pigeon-back. The final showdown had been on the ship bound to Barzun, when Beka and Tunstall faced down the rushers, and the woodsmen, who turned out to also have the Gift, dueled the mage. When the mage finally died (thanks to Beka knocking him overboard and him drowning), the Prince was freed, and they returned to Corus battered, grieving, and exhausted.

The King had been grateful, of course, but wanted to keep the affair quiet. It wouldn't do for Tortall's enemies to know that the Prince had been kidnapped under the guard's very noses. What enraged Rosto was the fact that the kidnapping had been orchestrated to start a war between Barzun and Tortall, allowing the captors to rise to power within Barzun's government. Money by the way of ransom he could understand- but he would not tolerate war.

It took Beka nearly all day to tell the tale, and when she got to the end, her voice broke as she explained how, during the last battle with the mage, Pounce had been slain while trying to protect the Prince. His heart broke along with hers. He had been fond of the cat. He cried for Beka, who had shed too many tears already, and it was her turn to wipe them away.

When she was finally done, a heavy silence fell over the room. Sometime during the tale, they had migrated to her bed- Beka still had her face buried in his chest, and Rosto was curled protectively around her, one arm around her waist, the other soothingly stroking her head. It was a long time before either could find their voice, and when they did, it was Rosto who spoke first. "I'm sorry, Beka," He whispered. "I had no idea… if I had known…" he trailed off. They both knew there was little he could have done. His sphere of influence existed among the Rats of Corus, not Galla, Tyra, or Barzun. Still, she loved him for trying. He cleared his throat, and then spoke softly, "I know Pounce hasn't left you, not completely. He's still watching over you, in the sky- you'll see him in the stars at night, and in your dreams when you're asleep."

"I know." She whispered, voice rough. "But it still doesn't make the pain go away."

"If there's anything I can do to help, Beka, tell me, and I'll do it," He whispered, and she knew he meant it. For one lingering, infinite moment, their eyes met- silently, a decision was made, and she crossed a line, never looking back.

Their lips crashed together, seeking solace, comfort, love. In a flood of emotions, years of suppressed attraction, passion, and desire overwhelmed them, forcing away every rational thought. They had needed each other for too long to back out now, and for once, Beka didn't want to. She wanted to feel Rosto close to her, to be with him despite their paths in life, and she wanted it now. Rogue or not, he was the only person left alive who truly understood her, and she didn't want him to leave. Helping him to shed his tunic, she only focused on the here, and the now. The concept of past and future were forgotten, and as her fingers ran over the skin and muscle she had only dreamed about, she found she didn't care.

Rosto, though absorbed in the young woman below him, still had a small part of his mind realize that Beka had gained more scars than she had let on. He already knew about the one across her stomach, but there were several that peppered her chest, shoulder blades, and thighs, as well as one that was hidden by her hair at the base of her neck. There was also one near her eyebrow, one so much like his own he would have laughed under different circumstances.

It was hours later, when the sky had been dark for a while and they let the fires that had consumed them die down that Beka finally spoke. "What now?" She whispered. He knew she didn't mean their future- she meant hers. He considered his words carefully before he spoke next.

"You stand." He said simply. "You find your legs and walk forward once more. What happened was something no one should have to face- but you did, and you survived it. That's all you can hope for, Beka. You survived, and now you need to walk forward once more. I know you can do it. You're the strongest mot I've ever met, and if anyone can find a new reason to live, I know you can. Besides," his voice dropped to a soft whisper, "I'll be here to help you. So will Ersken, and Goodwin, and Tunstall, and everyone who knows and loves you. You're not alone, Beka. No matter how long it takes, we'll help you. You can count on that."

She didn't reply, but he knew she had listened. When she finally fell asleep, a small smile was on her face, and he knew that she had already taken the first step forward.

Silently, trying not to disturb her, he slid out of her grasp and off of the bed. Though he was reluctant to leave her for even a second, he reassured himself that he would only be gone a moment. After all, he had a purchase to make, and if he waited any longer, he would be too late.

Beka slept late into the day, and when she awoke, Rosto was beside her again, though dressed- as was she, she realized. Though she distinctly remembered last night's discussion, as well as the actions following it, she realized that he must have put her nightclothes on her so that, if a curious soul happened to look inside, they would have simply seen Rosto innocently keeping a suffering Beka company throughout the night. It certainly helped that he was lying on top of the covers, and his clothes, though wrinkled, were not cause for suspicion.

Then she noticed the rose.

It was orange, the petals lightning to a dark gold as they curled inward. Some were shot through with red, and as she reached for it with trembling fingers, Rosto opened his dark eyes to regard her with pure, radiating joy and love. "Glad to see you're up," He whispered, his hand moving to cover hers and the rose stem. "Feeling better?"

"Much," She replied, and meant it. "Rosto…"

His lips covered hers, and she lost herself in the feel of them. When they broke apart, he said, "I heard it in town- you're a hero, Beka. They're calling you the Mastiff, now, and the King is throwing a ball in your honor. Of course, you and Tunstall are to be the guests of honor. Lady Sabine was making her joy known clear enough." There was a hidden laughter in his eyes, and she smiled, knowing full well what he meant. "Apparently, the whole stunt wasn't as obscure as the King had hoped."

"I," She said as she leaned closer, "unfortunately, have a prior engagement, and am highly regretful that I cannot attend. Tunstall can have as much fun as he wants dressing up for the event- I will not."

"Are you sure?" He asked, repressing a smile. "I'm sure My Lady Teodorie would adore having an excuse to dress you up. And your sister will be disappointed in that she couldn't make you a dress…"

"And risk having Diona mess it up in revenge? Never," She insisted. Their faces were centimeters apart now. "I'm sure the King will understand that I need time to recover."

"I'm sure he will," Rosto agreed, closing the distance between them.

Beka didn't care that she had bedded the Rouge, and that now they had to hide their relationship, for very few would understand. All she cared about was that she had finally given in to what her heart had been telling her for a long time.

She loved Rosto. And she would never again deny it.

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