He had avoided her. As much as he knew it to be wrong, Tyr had stayed away from Oswin. There was no doubt in his mind that she would have found the aftermath of what he had done by now. Perhaps she had stayed away from him too? It wasn’t like he could have escaped her if she had truly wanted to demand his presence. Maybe she had realized what her sisters had said of him was true. That he was a monster. A true villain, instead of just a stallion wearing the label because he was part of the Lagoon. It pained him that of anyone, Oswin, the rare few who saw the good in him, might finally label him that way too. That her blue eyes might gaze upon him with spite, instead of the love he had grown accustomed to in the seasons they had spent here and before.


Fear. Although he didn’t want to admit it, even to himself, Tyr knew he was afraid. The judgement that others made of him had always rolled off his thick hide easily. But Oswin? Perhaps now that Kvothe seemed truly gone, it was the only thing still propping him up from truly collapsing into himself. Even though they were well onto their third child, Tyr held no delusion that Faolain had any sort of actual love for him. Nor did Rivka who bore a child from someone he did not know. Or Asphara, who had sought sanctuary and children from him, but nothing more. Without Oswin, Tyr felt truly alone.


Tyr could not leave things the way they were. He knew this as true as the sky was blue, and the jungle was green, and the sand was gold under the warm sun. Countless battles he had flung himself into. War, both political and physical, that he had not hesitated or been afraid. But to face the painted mare whom he saw as his equal? No…. That he saw as better than himself. How could he be so weak?