Falls

Though she could not still the trembling of her auburn coat, Kvothe clung desperately to the reassurances the golden stallion offered. She allowed Tyr’s words to comfort her not because she truly believed them, but because she wanted to believe them. What she’d seen in the Inlet—it had awakened Kvothe to the bitter truth of the world; a truth Narene had often sought to teach her. Life is not a song, the old matron would say whenever her young charge expressed the wistful desire she felt for the happily-ever-afters that ended her favorite tales. After she’d been banished from her herd, the chestnut Friesian had glimpsed a sliver of the cruelty that thrived amongst her kind—then she’d found Ironclad, and had thought that there was a purpose to her suffering.

But now—now—

Tyr’s lips trailed down the arch of Kvothe’s neck, and a warm shiver chased away the lingering chill of what she’d seen. The bachelor moved closer then—his tall and muscular body curling around her, enfolding her—and tucked her into the wall of his chest. Safe. You are safe now. She heard him speak again in the silent sanctuary of her thoughts, and this time she let the words absolve her fears. This time she surrendered herself completely—leaning into her companion and burying her face in the pale curtain of his mane. Allowing herself to believe—like a child—that if she could not see the world’s horrors, then they could not find her either. And though she shook briefly with silent sobs, these tears were of the more cathartic sort. The type that drained her grief instead of serving to amplify it.

Do you think you can go much further? The husky sound of Tyr’s voice was a gentle reminder of her desperate plight—but one that did not fill her with panic. For this kind creature, she would go as far as he needed, give whatever he asked. It was not the same unswerving devotion that she still felt for Ironclad—Kvothe’s love for the bachelor was purer, chaste; the sort of love a daughter might feel for her father, or a sister for her big brother. He had earned her affection by the kindness he had shown her, and in turn she gave Tyr her complete trust—even against the warnings her Queen had sought to impart after their last encounter. He took advantage of you, Medusa had said. She’d implied that the stallion had wanted to hurt her, had wanted her to fear and obey him. But it hadn’t hurt when he’d taken her—and after, he’d been filled with nothing but gentle concern, just as he was now.

“Where will we go? Kvothe asked, though not out of hesitation—except perhaps to step out of the comfort of their embrace. But the pain in her belly reminded the red woman that she could not stay time, no matter how hard she might fight against it. And so she pulled reluctantly away from Tyr, her dark eyes finding his and then flitting around to the shadows that surrounded them. She, too, could not help but feel as if someone or something was watching them—and that alone was enough to encourage her to step forward. “No, I - you’re right. If you lead, then I will follow.” Crowding so close to the bachelor that his golden coat and her red melded seamlessly into one another, Kvothe demonstrated her readiness to move on—but before they did, she pressed her lips to the skin of his neck in a return of the affection he’d shown her earlier, and whispered softly into him.

“Just don’t—don’t leave my side, Tyr. Stay with me.”