Opposites

Disclaimer: Rosto and Beka, Corus, and Tortall belong to Tamora Pierce, not me.

A/N: I read Terrier recently (EVERYBODY IN THE WORLD SHOULD READ IT) and I absolutely love Beka and Rosto to pieces. So this is a little drabble, fluffy, and dedicated to them. Oh, and this is a lame title because I couldn't think of anything else.


Rosto.

Her friend, the one she always called "the Scanran fiend", the one whose witty jokes made her laugh even during her darkest days.

Rosto.

The Rogue. The one who ruled over all the thieves, the one who had battled his way to the top.

Rosto.

Her lover, the one whose wicked mouth so ruthlessly plundered hers, the one whose fingers danced like burning embers over her skin.

They weren't supposed to know each other, much less be the best of friends, or even lovers.

They were supposed to be opposites. That's what she thought, that's what she told herself, every day.

He was the Rogue. She was a Dog.

Opposites.


Yet, every time she saw his fair hair that she loved to mercilessly tease him about so much, or his blue eyes that promised her sanctuary, she lost all thought and concentrated only on him.

Rosto.

Every time his cool, long fingers delicately undressed her from her Dog's uniform, every time his tongue lay scorching hot trails across her body, every time he clutched her tight in his arms on the bed at night in a sweaty embrace.

She threw all her thoughts out of the window.

It was during one such night, the moon full and suspended in the sky, when the Rogue should be drinking and merrymaking with his chiefs after holding court, when Rosto's hot voice penetrated her ear.

"I love you," he whispered.

But the Rogue had instead left soon after holding court with the week's Happy Bag, leaving his thieves and chiefs to drink and speculate among themselves where the King was heading, as they watched their King disappear around the corner into the shadows.

"I love you too," she murmured back.

Dear Goddess, please, let me stay forever like this, she thought silently, reveling in the secure feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her.

The window was cracked open, and a cool night breeze blew in, ruffling their hair.

"Beka…"

Her name fell from his lips, a soft sound, dissipating in the air to darkness.

"Marry me."

Her heart leapt before she thought of the consequences, him being the Rogue, the King of Thieves, and she was a Dog, only recently deemed worthy to be a Dog from a Puppy and take the white trim off of her uniform.

To hell with the opposites.

"Yes," she choked out, a single tear falling onto the bed sheets. "Yes, Rosto, I'll marry you."

Another tear joined the first, then another, as Rosto slipped the simple gold ring onto her quivering finger.

"My fiancée…" he murmured, bundling her body closer to his, the warmth from his body soothing hers.

"I've always wanted to call you 'my fiancée'."

And that was how the two lovers fell asleep, Beka's head on Rosto's chest, her head tucked under his chin, their arms around each other.

To see the content couple, nobody would have ever guessed that they were opposites.

Or at least, meant to be opposites.

The Gods sometimes figure out fate to be a very funny thing.

-fin-

A/N: Yay! Wow, I haven't written Tamora Pierce in forever, and it feels so good to be writing it again :) Reviews are appreciated!!