Post by Seek on Apr 27, 2013 2:59:51 GMT 10
Title: Difference
Rating: PG
Word Count: 516
Pairing: Beka/Rosto
Round/Fight: 1C
Summary: Reversal!verse. Rosto and Mattes talk about differences.
Warnings: None.
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I ask Mattes to tell me how Beka ended up a rusher. I almost stop myself, almost tell myself it’s a stupid question. I’ve seen the patches on some of her clothes; sewn so the stitches are almost invisible, but they’re still there. She’s not that well-off, and there’s a sharp edge to her eyes that only someone working the streets in the worst parts of the Lower City has.
I know her story, I tell myself. I’ve heard it too many times, told in so many ways all across Corus. He gives me another of those long glances. We’re too alike; Mattes and I. I’ve heard tell of the number of times he’s been called out by some furious husband or lover for a duel. I’ve even served as his second twice before, watched as he charmed the man into laughing and clasping hands.
Yes, it takes one to know one, and Mattes has a silver tongue.
I tell him that I’m not interested in Beka in that sort of way. It’s different. In a way, Beka reminds me of Aniki. They both puzzle me. Aniki threatened to break my fingers if I touched her, when we first met. Beka, my hands. There’s something going on behind those ghost-eyes, and that interests me. Fascinates me. I want to know the story behind those sharp eyes.
Mattes relents. We talk about it over a meal at the Mantel and Pullet. I pay. As I suspected, he’s taken young Beka Cooper under his wing. So she’s working for Red, one of Kayfer Deerborn’s district chiefs. Which means she’s sharp as a Hamrkeng saxe, that one. Red always takes the cunning ones. He’s Deerborn’s eyes and ears in the Rogue. I revise my assessment of Beka upwards. He won’t tell me anything about her past itself, says that it’s not his place to talk, and if I want to know, I should ask her. I snort quietly to myself, thinking about how likely it is that I can charm an answer from between those tight lips.
He does surprise me when he tells me that Beka wanted to become a Dog, once. He tells me she comes from a tougher, darker place than I’d think. She’s a fighter, that one. A survivor, and stubborn as a lord’s terrier. I ask him what happened. I can’t help myself.
He gives me a warning look; he won’t relent, and takes a long pull from his jack. I frown down at the table.
Maybe she’s like me, almost. I never quite planned to be a Dog when I’d travelled to Tortall with Aniki and Kora, because we’d gotten sick of starving. Skills like ours, you can use them on either side of the law. The Dogs are not picky; neither are the Rats. It’s a thin line, so thin you can miss it. Some days I don’t believe in the line.
Today, I don’t.
I clasp my jack, and wonder what changed. I wonder if Beka might’ve been a Dog, so easily. If we might’ve worked together, had things been different.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 516
Pairing: Beka/Rosto
Round/Fight: 1C
Summary: Reversal!verse. Rosto and Mattes talk about differences.
Warnings: None.
-
I ask Mattes to tell me how Beka ended up a rusher. I almost stop myself, almost tell myself it’s a stupid question. I’ve seen the patches on some of her clothes; sewn so the stitches are almost invisible, but they’re still there. She’s not that well-off, and there’s a sharp edge to her eyes that only someone working the streets in the worst parts of the Lower City has.
I know her story, I tell myself. I’ve heard it too many times, told in so many ways all across Corus. He gives me another of those long glances. We’re too alike; Mattes and I. I’ve heard tell of the number of times he’s been called out by some furious husband or lover for a duel. I’ve even served as his second twice before, watched as he charmed the man into laughing and clasping hands.
Yes, it takes one to know one, and Mattes has a silver tongue.
I tell him that I’m not interested in Beka in that sort of way. It’s different. In a way, Beka reminds me of Aniki. They both puzzle me. Aniki threatened to break my fingers if I touched her, when we first met. Beka, my hands. There’s something going on behind those ghost-eyes, and that interests me. Fascinates me. I want to know the story behind those sharp eyes.
Mattes relents. We talk about it over a meal at the Mantel and Pullet. I pay. As I suspected, he’s taken young Beka Cooper under his wing. So she’s working for Red, one of Kayfer Deerborn’s district chiefs. Which means she’s sharp as a Hamrkeng saxe, that one. Red always takes the cunning ones. He’s Deerborn’s eyes and ears in the Rogue. I revise my assessment of Beka upwards. He won’t tell me anything about her past itself, says that it’s not his place to talk, and if I want to know, I should ask her. I snort quietly to myself, thinking about how likely it is that I can charm an answer from between those tight lips.
He does surprise me when he tells me that Beka wanted to become a Dog, once. He tells me she comes from a tougher, darker place than I’d think. She’s a fighter, that one. A survivor, and stubborn as a lord’s terrier. I ask him what happened. I can’t help myself.
He gives me a warning look; he won’t relent, and takes a long pull from his jack. I frown down at the table.
Maybe she’s like me, almost. I never quite planned to be a Dog when I’d travelled to Tortall with Aniki and Kora, because we’d gotten sick of starving. Skills like ours, you can use them on either side of the law. The Dogs are not picky; neither are the Rats. It’s a thin line, so thin you can miss it. Some days I don’t believe in the line.
Today, I don’t.
I clasp my jack, and wonder what changed. I wonder if Beka might’ve been a Dog, so easily. If we might’ve worked together, had things been different.