Disclaimer: I don't own the Kingkiller Chronicle. Patrick Rothfuss the Greater (lol) does. He and the writing style of his are surely something.
Author's Note: I don't think there's anyone that finished the two books without growing fond, even just a little, of the lovely female characters. I'm talking about Fela, Auri, Mola and Devi, of course. Kvothe the Arcane is an extraordinary character, it should be no wonder if he got himself more than just one girl (My lame leading to a Harem oneshot. 5-shot, actually, as each girl receives a chapter of her own. I said it, so click "Back" if you don't like.) I like Felurian, but I cannot seem to find the appropriate plot to write about her *Making sad faces.* About Denna, Sir Patrick will take care of her in his book, I won't. And this is a tribute for the Kvothe/Devi fanfic "The V's Have It" by Mushroom Scribe; it sparked my interest in writing a Kingkiller fic in the first place.
Here it comes, please excuse my poor English and my even worse attempt at mimicking Patrick's style. And, to avoid questions about implied canon pairings, Wilem and Simmon will hold no romantic attraction towards Mola and Fela respectively.
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Chronicler laid the papers on the bedside table, rolling his head around a little. The oil lamp could only shine so much, and craning his neck for almost an hour towards the dim source of light didn't help make his recovering head wound better.
The man rested his weary body on the not-so-comfortable bed, his mind reeling. As someone making a living by recording famous people's life stories, he prided himself on having trained his mind to such an extent that he could withstand the amount of information coming in at fast speed. But Kvothe's story was different in every way.
Should there be raised questions arguing how different it was with every other its kind, Chronicler couldn't properly explain. But, if the sages' and hermits' stories were to be compared to a sack of silver talents- shining with wise sayings and valuable lessons, then Kvothe's would be like a gigantic chest full to the brim with unique stuff from all four corners of the world- Beyond money's worth under the cover of ordinary things.
But, back with the problems at hand, Chronicler couldn't help how his life would turn out to be from this point. The blasted Fae student of Kvothe, Bast, had now claimed ownership on him with no need of anything more than an intense stare. He'd be damned if he admitted to be in anyone's possession just like that… But then again, Bast wasn't human. He was a creature from another realm, a creature coming out of myths, just like Felurian and the Cthaeh. Crossing him was out of the question, and as long as he knew he wouldn't be hurt if he succeeded in bringing back the former Kvothe.
That didn't stop Chronicler from having a strong burning distaste for Bast, though. As one of a few namers in the world he refused to be looked down upon like that. He swore on Tehlu's ears if he had to see that shit-eating grin again he'd…
"Can I help you with something Bast?" Chronicler said as he motioned for the very grinning man to come in. It was of no necessity as the dark-haired man was already striding into the room.
"You did well today," Bast commented after he took the seat next to the bed.
"Did I do something?" Chronicler asked, bewilderment plain on his face.
"Technically you didn't," Bast answered excited. "But I have to tell you this. A few weeks ago a couple of soldiers dropped by the inn, just like the ones earlier. They even demanded the similar thing, those greedy bastards. And guess what he did?" The scribe shook his head.
"He played the good scared innkeeper and gave them his purse." Bast continued with disgust. "Even smiled like a stupid shim when they slapped his shoulder. 'That's good! See, no one gets hurt, and we are on our way now.'" The last sentence was said in a different tone as Bast imitated the soldiers.
Seeing the realization dawn on Chronicler's face, Bast smiled.
"As you can tell he acted totally different today. Not only did the two get beaten to two bloody pulps but they were also relieved of their king's coins."
The duo laughed lightly at this, not feeling one bit sorry for the soldiers.
"Retelling the story of his life must be having positive effects," When the laughter died, Chronicler said. "I can't take credit at this."
Bast opened his mouth to say something, but was effectively shut up when a voice came from the door behind him.
"Sure you can. Were it not for you, how could this story possibly be told?"
The dark-haired man's shoulders sagged, his head hung. "How long have you been standing there Reshi?"
"Long enough." Kvothe said, putting on a strikingly Bast-like grin.
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"So, as unpleased I am to know you are intimidating our guest so that he will serve your purposes, I will admit that the things you told him were at least partially true." Kvothe stated, taking a seat opposite from Bast with the bed as the border. This didn't help with Chronicler's anxiety since the others were practically surrounding him.
"Am I forgiven?" Bast asked hopefully.
"No." Kvothe replied flatly. Bast hung his head.
"You are saying about 'partially true'?" Stifling his laughter at Bast's dismay, Chronicler politely asked.
"In a few senses, yes."
"So this…" Chronicler made a vague gesture at the pile of paper on the bedside table. "… Really helps remind you of who you once were?"
"You sound like Bast. And no, not the whole part of it, mind you. Just a certain factor to be exact." Kvothe raised his eyebrow meaningfully.
This sent both Bast and Chronicler into thinking. A certain factor, he said? So did it mean that should they realize it, they could further help Kvothe in returning to who he once had been? Far-fetched and cliché, yet this was the only way they could do… Through trial and error.
"Money?"
Kvothe gave a look. "That is one lame attempt Bast."
"Bloodlust?"
Kvothe gave Bast a cuff on the side of his head.
"Enmity?"
"You would also receive a cuff like that had I known you longer." Chronicler looked away in shame.
"Knowledge?"
Kvothe leaned back on his chair. "When this guess is not half as stupid as the other two, Bast, still incorrect, and you've run out of luck." Red-haired man extended three fingers, gesturing the three guesses Bast just spent fruitlessly.
"Damn."
"You got two more guesses, Sir Chronicler. Use it well!" Kvothe said in his unusually cheerful voice, which, if one knew enough, sounded very much similar to that of Elodin's when he was doing riddles.
Chronicler went through all the significant elements in Kvothe's story in his head… And said the remaining obvious answer.
"Love? You know… Girls?"
A satisfied smile spread on Kvothe's lips. "Bingo."
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Thus began the nighttime story which was never recorded.
"You know, I always thought you two are ambisextrous, owning an inn together like Deoch and Stanchion in the story."
"Well Chronicler, life pushed me around really hard. And in spite of that I keep my manliness with me all the time, thank you for asking."
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So, that's the start. See you all in the next chapter, which features Fela ^^
Side note: As mentioned in another fic of mine, I have to quit using the computer for the next year to focus on the university entrance exam. So, every story of mine will be put on discontinuation… Until this day next year.
See you guys later!
NCT