Note: I don't own the Kingkiller Chronicles or any of the characters.
Kvothe paused in the middle of wiping the counter of the Waystone Inn. Something in the air was off, and the guilty look on Bast's face didn't help. He narrowed his green eyes and, leaving his rag on the counter, walked over to where his student was furiously trying to gather mugs and plates after the lunch rush. "What did you do?"
"I—um—nothing, Reshi. Why would you—"
The innkeeper help up a hand, and Bast snapped his mouth shut. "I can tell something is wrong because you are quiet. You're hardly ever quiet unless you're thinking about something or you have done something that you know is going to make me very angry." He took the tray of dishware into his own hands and rested it on one hip so Bast didn't have an excuse to run off to the kitchen to wash dishes.
"I—"
"I'm not in the mood to play guessing games, Bast," Kvothe muttered, rubbing his temples with his middle and ring fingers. "It's been a long day, and I just want to know so I can get on with work. You know the usual crowd will be trailing in any moment demanding alcohol and apple pie."
"A talent in exchange for the right to silence?" Bast knew he had made the absolute wrong decision when Kvothe's eyes shifted into a death glare, turning dark green in color and if his red hair could have changed, turning it to licks of flame to engulf him. "I'm sorry, Reshi."
"You'd better be. Tell me what you did."
"I may have…invited some people."
Kvothe felt his stomach knot in at least five places. Sure, he had become the innkeeper type, always ready to help, but this statement made him nervous. The words "invited some people" were enough to be telling but not enough to keep them from being vague. "What people did you invite, Bast? Please don't tell me you've found some way to make my life a living hell."
"Just…maybe you should…"
"I am not waiting until they get here to find out who they are. Names or there will be repercussions for your insolence."
Bast fell silent for a moment, his ebony hair falling into his bright blue eyes as he stalled for time and knowing that his teacher's strong gaze was boring a hole through him. "They may be…a pair of people you know…very well…and that you…haven't seen for a long time…"
"And who is that? I want names, not descriptions."
"Wilem and Simmon…"
Kvothe dropped the tray of dishes. The man that was always so calm, cool, and collected had rarely broken even but a tiny tumbler in his entire span of being an innkeeper. And now he had just lost a full tray. "Damn," he snapped to himself and knelt down to pick up the shattered pieces. Bast crouched down as well, but Kvothe only pushed him away. "I really don't want to speak to you right now."
"But Reshi! They're your friends! I knew them from your descriptions and had to invite them! Don't be mad..."
"I haven't seen them since the University. Do you know how awkward it is going to be for me? I'm sure they've changed, just as I have."
"But you're Edema Ruh. And you're good with words. So you shouldn't feel awkward around old friends…" Bast reasoned with a slight whine in his voice as he scuffed his foot along the ground.
Kvothe put a hand to Bast's lips, preventing him from speaking any further. An unusual but increasing sensation ran through him at the feeling of Bast's breath on his fingers. He shook off the feeling and tried to ignore how soft his lips were. "I know very well that I am Edema Ruh, as I know that I am good with words. It comes from being a Ruh and studying naming, which you should know. That doesn't change the fact that I haven't seen them in years and that the part of me that they know is dead."
"That's not—"
Bast was cut off from his muffled protest by a pair of loud voices and footsteps coming from the porch. Kvothe paled, making his red hair and green eyes stand out even more. The door swung open, and Kvothe could see the corner of a cloak before the door even opened fully.