Falls

You are far from undesirable, Kvothe.

Her whiskered lips were pressed to the curved plane of Tyr’s chest now, but her gentle exhalations no longer bathed the stallion’s skin. Kvothe did not dare to so much as breathe, not while the soft caress of his voice still soothed her. I don’t want you to go, he murmured reassuringly. But Kvothe feared that if she moved - or spoke - that his mercurial mood would shift again. That he would turn away, revulsion and regret visible in his eyes again, as they’d been in the moments following his unanticipated embrace. And as much as the dunalino’s words might contradict what she’d read in his gaze, they were at least evidence of his willingness to forgive her for the incident that she’d provoked.

As the silence stretched on between them, however, the muscular male’s hesitation seemed to resurface. He shifted away from her slowly, as if trying to break her gently - still showing more concern for the Friesian mare than she felt that she deserved. Letting her dark eyes fall closed, Kvothe steeled herself against the fresh rivulet of tears that sought to escape her. She had told him - and truthfully believed - that the burden of guilt was hers to bear, and could not justify making their parting more difficult. Tyr deserved better than to be tethered to the side of a mare who had used him to her own ends, offering her comfort when it was she who’d incited the display of affection that he clearly regretted. If it was his wish to go, then she would-

Oh.

Warmth consumed her as the large stallion’s body abruptly enfolded hers in an embrace that was less - and yet, somehow more - intimate than the one they’d shared moments earlier. Even her beloved had never cradled her in this way - a melding of skin and heartbeats and the steady rise and fall of their chests that made it difficult to determine where one of their bodies ended, and the other’s began. It was a gesture that seemed to drain the burdens of her negative emotions like a lance to an infected wound. A gesture that made her feel as if, somehow, everything would turn out for the better - no matter how erroneous and selifsh her actions had been.

Will you at least tell me you forgive me?

Kvothe still did not understand so much about this day - least of all why a creature such as Tyr might need the absolution of her forgiveness. But neither could she deny it to him, even to point out that there was nothing for her to forgive. Instead, she tucked her head into the warmth of his body, and murmured against his golden skin. “If you need forgiveness, then I give it, Tyr. And I will not even ask your own in return.” It would have been unfair, after all, to propose such an exchange when the burdens each bore were so unequal. But there was one more thing she could give him in an attempt to repay her debt to him, small thing though it might be.

“And I won’t go. If it is truly your wish, then I - I will stay with you for a little while longer.” Her heart ached at the thought of Ironclad, at the memory of Pike. But she could never be worthy of either if he turned her back on one who was as kind as they, and as deserving of her own kindness. Staying with him, sharing his inexplicable sorrow until it had passed… it was the right thing to do, right?

He had done no less for her, after all.