Falls

Kvothe, wait…

Though her companion might have been prepared to pursue her, the chestnut Friesian’s response was immediate; she paused, glancing back over the curve of her own rump at Tyr as he continued. You’re tired. This truth she could not deny, but in itself it would not be enough to hold her here on the Crossing. Not when she imagined her Prince back home, worry consuming his thoughts as he searched for her. You can rest here, with me, and I will take you back to Ironclad when you’ve recovered. These words were enough to turn Kvothe’s brief pause into a longer hesitation, to cloud the certainty of her dark gaze with confusion. Obedience was bred into every cell of her body, and while Tyr’s speech was not quite a command, it was close enough to strike the submissive chord within her.

Especially when his voice had grown thick with - sorrow? Grief? The red woman didn’t know, but she couldn’t walk away from someone who had showed her such kindness. Not when he had asked her to stay.

“You’re right, Tyr, I-” The words faded from her lips when the golden stallion surged suddenly forward, his large body lifting into the air. It was so unexpected that she could not have escaped what was coming even if she had tried - and Kvothe did not try. She was still overcome by the instinct to obey, even as he embraced her like Ironclad had done in the beautiful forest clearing those seasons ago. But this time, there was none of the joy that she had felt that day, and only a shadow of the warmth. Her emotions were such a tangled mess - grief and gratitude and fear and love all twisting together so tightly that they served to paralyze her until the patchwork stallion had withdrawn, sliding back down to earth with a dull thud of hooves.

For a moment she remained standing as she’d been - as if waiting for the last tendrils of the stranger’s spell to unravel. It was only then that she turned her body to face him, the points of her small ears swiveling outward to show her uncertainty and concern. When her Prince had done that to her, he’d said it was because he cared for her enough to want to claim her, forever. But she was already claimed - heart and body and soul - by Ironclad, so what had Tyr meant by the act? They scarcely knew one another; he could not care for her as the grey stallion did. Could not desire her, repulsive creature that she was. And even if he did - why was he looking at her as if he wanted nothing more to escape this moment?

Kvothe, I’m sorry. I...your scent…

Oh. Kvothe’s gaze dropped, her dark eyes filling with tears as the truth reached her. Of course he had not wanted her, had not wanted to… He’d just been helping her, out of kindness, and somehow she had caused this. The chestnut mare took a step toward him before she seemed to remember herself, and then stopped. Her tall body seemed to fold in on itself, slender neck dropping down in dejection. But her tear-filled eyes looked up at Tyr, pleading with him in unspoken terms for forgiveness And her muzzle yearned towards him, stopping just short of connecting with the bachelor’s broad chest. Instead, gusts of her own hitching breath warmed his skin, especially when she finally found the strength to speak.

“Tyr, I - please don’t blame yourself. You were just trying to help me, and I-” Her voice caught for a moment on the sound of a quiet sob, but after it had passed Kvothe soldiered on. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, but it’s my fault.” She rushed quickly through the words, terrified that at any moment he would turn and run - still blaming himself even as he fled. “I know I’m not - not desirable, and you didn’t want this. I will go, if you want, or - or I will stay. But please, don’t take the burden of guilt on yourself. That is mine alone to bear.”

Frantically trying to repair the rift that had opened between herself and the dun stallion, Kvothe did not yet have time to consider how Ironclad might react to these events. Or the long-reaching consequences of the act that had just been performed. She no longer even felt her grief for the palomino daughter whom she feared to be dead. For now, her tender heart was too concerned for this kind stranger, and the pain that he was feeling.