Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Tamora Pierce. The song: Beth by Kiss.

Beth, I hear you callin',

But I can't come home right now.

Me and the boys are playin'

And we just can't find the sound.

Just a few more hours

And I'll be right home to you

I think I hear them calling

Oh, Beth what can I do?

Beth what can I do?

Deep down, she had always known that this would be the result of their relationship. From the beginning, she'd been hesitant. All of the kisses he sent her way. All of the loving words whispered into her ear. They'd made her heart flutter. They'd made her ignore the fact that they could never be together. He was a rusher. She was a dog. He had responsibilities. She had responsibilities. When could they ever be together?

But she'd said yes. That one word was all it had taken to tie her down. Give up her life. Become Domesticated. And all for love. It left a foul taste in her mouth, that word. She'd believed that they could make this work, but now she knew. She couldn't take being alone.

Of course, the old Beka would never let herself become complacent like this. The old Beka be out bagging snatchers, defending her city, and protecting her people. Now she was stuck at home, without a person to talk to. The only thing to keep her company: The small bulge in her stomach.

She smiled as she placed a warm hand over the lump in her stomach, just beginning to show. At least one good thing had come of it. A feeling of happiness shoved the loneliness away quickly, taking it's place. Forget about Rosto for a moment. Forget about how he would never be there to provide a fatherly figure. Forget how he kept leaving her for nights at a time.

Oh. The feeling was back. Her smile faded, and she longed to be back out on the streets. She wished that she could start fighting again. But who knew how long it would be until then.

She jumped as the door opened, and as she glanced suspiciously, already on edge, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the white- almost silver- hair of her husband. He turned around a grin stretched across his face. It slowly faded as he walked away from his companions and looked at his wife.

"Hey Beka."

He knew that he had been out for too long. Her pale blue eyes glowered, freezing him with the coldest of all things: Guilt.

Admittedly it hadn't been his fault. The court always demanded his presence as king: Their fearless leader. Things needed to be sorted out, and people needed to be dealt with. On the other hand, he had left Beka at home for the entire day, by herself, not being able to run and chase, but worst of all, not having any people around. Loneliness was a hard burden to bear.

"Good Evening, Rosto," Her cool, formal tone confirmed his beliefs.

"Listen, love-"

"Don't worry about it Rosto. I know," she was slightly more resigned now. It was evident that Beka had been in her head far too long today.

"No, I'm sorry. Some rats were getting' out of hand, and needed to be dealt with. Then me and some other coves from o'er south were chattin', jus' telling me about some of the methods they use for disciplinin' the rats down yonder."

Beka sighed. Of course he was. Mithros, he was king of the rogues, and he didn't have time for his wife and unborn child at home. There was just too much to do. And she understood that. It was his duty.

Suddenly a loud smash was heard from the small lobby below their apartment in the dancing dove.

"Oi! Rosto, lad! Get down here and have a couple O' drinks with us!" A man was slamming his fist against the door, intoxication clear in his voice.

"Can't right now! I'm off for the night!" Rosto really was trying. Couldn't Beka see it? Her eyes were icy and emotionless once again, her lips drawn taught with a challenge.

"There's a huge fight goin' on down here! You're majesty, Me thinks you're gonna have to break it up!" A new slightly less drunken voice overpowered the first.

Rosto sighed. He had to go. He looked at Beka and she nodded, acceptance clear on her face. If you looked closely enough you could see the slightest trace of pain sketched into her features. But she was tough, and she wouldn't let him get to her. Rosto left the small room once again, but not before looking back in time to catch the look of betrayal settle over her. But perhaps worst of all was her acceptance. As if she knew that this was going to happen.

Oh, Beka. What can I do?

A/N: So, I've had this idea playing around in my head for ages, so I finally decided to sit down and write it. Perhaps I'll write the rest of the song, but as of now, don't be expecting regular updates. It's kind of short, but I felt that it was done for now. Sometime, I do hope to write the rest, but I'm a little bit busy at the moment, so it may not happen for a short while. Or a long while. If you haven't heard this song, you need to. When I heard it, I immediately thought of Beka and Rosto. Don't get me wrong, I think Beka and Rosto are perfect for each other, but somehow, I can see this happening.

Just so you know, I do believe that Rosto truly does love Beka. The life of a rogue is a tough one though. I guess he can't really help his constant lack of attendance.