Disclaimer: I'm only playing in Pat's beautiful playground, and to keep things canon-compliant, I have borrowed a bit of dialogue from canon in this chapter.

Chapter 28: Fire and Ash

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By the time I returned to Imre, summer's last traces had started to fade, the season's last flowers wilting before autumn's cool chill. And even then, it wasn't long enough. Months would have been safer. I could have remained in Astrain until winter. Or taken a coach down to Tarbean. But there was a yearning in my chest I couldn't quite explain. To find Kvothe again. And even without him, I found it difficult to leave Imre behind. To go months without stepping foot in the Eolian. When was it, that it had become the closest thing to home I'd ever known?

I was careful. My accommodations at the Swan and Swale were distantly removed from the Oaken Oar. The neighborhood respectable, but not rich. Not the sort a man like Stephan would choose to frequent. And the Eolian was only a short distance away. As was the Omethi… and the road to The University. But I wouldn't make the trek unless I had to. The Eolian was a far easier place to start.

It was Chaen evening when I greeted Deoch at the door. He welcomed me warmly, smiling as he complimented my dress. It was dark green this time, and hung artfully off my shoulders.

"I'm looking for someone," I said, offering him a hug. "You wouldn't happen to have seen my Savien as of late?"

"Kvothe, you mean?" He let out a booming laugh. "Why, he just so happens to be right there."

He pointed into the crowd. Following him, my eyes fell upon Kvothe, who was looking up at me from several tables away where he sat with two other men. I grinned. His face, too, broke into a smile and he waved me over.

"Thanks!" I told Deoch brightly.

"Always, Dyanae. Or is it Dianne, now?"

I laughed. "Frankly, I'm not sure."

Deoch winked at me, and I made my way through the crowd. Kvothe and the others with him rose to greet me. One was a sunny haired Aturan. The other a bearded Ceald. More boys than men.

"I was hoping to find you here," I said, smiling. And Kvothe offered a bow in return.

"I was hoping to be found. These are two of my best friends. Simmon." The Aturan boy smiled and brushed his hair away from his eyes. "And Wilem." The Ceald nodded at me. "This is Dianne."

I joined them at the table, dropping into one of the empty chairs. "What brings such a group of handsome young men out on the town tonight?"

"We're plotting the downfall of our enemies," Simmon said.

"And celebrating," Kvothe clarified.

Wilem raised his glass in a salute. "Confusion to the enemy."

Simmon and Kvothe raised their glasses as well. Then Kvothe paused. "I'm sorry. Can I buy you a drink?"

"I was hoping you would buy me dinner," I said, feeling profoundly brazen. "But I would feel guilty about stealing you away from your friends."

"You're making the assumption that we want him here," Wilem said, very seriously. "You'd do us a favor if you took him away."

I decided he must be joking, though I couldn't tell at all. I rather liked him. I grinned, feeling the smile reach all the way across my cheeks. "Really?"

Wilem nodded gravely. "He drinks even more than he talks."

I shot Kvothe an amused glance. "That much?"

"Besides," Simmon added brightly. "He'd sulk for days if he missed a chance to be with you. He'll be completely worthless to us if you leave him here."

I laughed at that, an odd weightlessness stealing through me. Buoyed by the innocent honesty of Simmon 's words and by the blush that crept across Kvothe's face, validating them.

"I suppose I'd better take him then."

I rose, offering Kvothe my hand. He took it, his skin warm against mine.

"I hope to see you again, Wilem, Simmon," I said before pulling Kvothe away. He kept pace with me easily. "I like them," I added softly. "Wilem is a stone in deep water. Simmon is like a boy splashing in a brook."

He laughed. "I couldn't have said it better. You mentioned dinner?"

"I lied," I said. I was feeling incredibly giddy about the whole thing now that he was walking beside me, his hand on mine. "But I would love the drink you offered me."

"How about the Taps?"

Tehlu blacken, I wasn't going anywhere near that place. Much, much too close to the Oaken Oar. "Too many old men," I said, keeping my fear in check. "Not enough trees. It is a good night to be out of doors." Somewhere Stephan would not go wandering.

"Lead the way," Kvothe offered. And I did, pulling him along behind me.

We bought a loaf of rye bread and a bottle of my favorite Avennish strawberry wine before settling in one of Imre's public parks. The night was cool, and lovely for it. The air thick with the scent of autumn, and the stone paths strewn with fallen leaves. They danced around us as we walked. And as we stepped onto the grass, I slipped out of my shoes and let the leaves crunch beneath my feet, reveling in the cool feel of them against my skin.

There, on the grass beneath the hanging canopy of a willow weeping fall, we shared our bread and wine and spoke of small nothings. Of songs and the turnings of music. Of his exploits with Wilem and Simmon at The University. Of the good fortune a patron could bring. Until the minutes turned to hours and hours and hours. And then, as night fell thickest, he fell quiet. Gazing somewhere past me. Past the willow. Past the night.

"Your eyes were far away just then," I said softly. "What were you thinking?"

He shrugged, turning to glance at me again."One of the masters at the University once told me that there were seven words that would make a woman love you. I was just wondering what they were."

"Is that why you talk so much?" I smiled, hardly able to contain the leaping feeling in my chest. "Hoping to come on them by accident?"

Didn't he know it mattered not what the words were? Only their rhythm was important. Their heartbeat. And he'd already…

He glanced at me, his cheeks tinting to red. Almost like a lady bursting to defend her honor. I laid a hand on his arm, smiling gently. "Don't go quiet on my account, Kvothe. I'd miss the sound of your voice."

I glanced away, reaching for the bottle of wine. Bringing it to my lips as I searched within its depth for courage. He didn't remember. There was no point in it. But the words were dancing in my chest now, threatening to burst free. I couldn't contain them.

"Anyway, you shouldn't bother wondering," I said softly, glancing down at the bottle. My gaze stayed firmly fixed to the tinted glass. "You spoke them to me when first we met… You said, 'I was just wondering why you're here.'" I shrugged lightly. "From that moment I was yours."

When he replied, his voice was strained. "I didn't think you remembered."

And my heart soared then, relief swirling with confusion. "Remember what?" I asked carefully, pressing him.

"Remembered me. Remembered our meeting in Roent's caravan."

"Come now," I managed, my voice light enough to not betray the frantic fluting of my heart. "How could I forget the red-haired boy who left me for The University?"

My eyes searched his face, and his traced mine in return.

"You never mentioned it."

"Neither did you," I countered. "Perhaps I thought that you had forgotten me."

"Forget you? How could I?"

I smiled softly, glancing down at my hands. "You might be surprised what men forget." It was a sad road. One I wished to forget as well. I stepped back, pushing myself away from its edge. "But then again, perhaps not. I don't doubt that you've forgotten things, being a man yourself."

"I remember your name, Denna. Why did you take a new one? Or was Denna just the name that you were wearing on the road to Anilin?"

"Denna," I said softly, and felt her smile beside me. "I'd almost forgotten her. She was a silly girl."

"She was like a flower unfolding." His voice was barely a whisper in the wind.

She was. She was sweet and pure and perfect. And what would she think of the person I'd become?

"I stopped being Denna years ago, it seems." Denna. Denna's sister. These days, I was neither. I was no one that Denna had ever known. I felt cold again, the chill of it seeping into my bones, as if my skin were made of paper. It was the same cold I'd known for as long as I had walked without them. I glanced around the empty park, rubbing my hands absently along my arms. How many ghosts stood in those shadows?

"Should I call you Dianne, then? Would you like it better?"

His voice brought me back. And the park was just a park again. The cold chill only that of the wind. And the warmth of Kvothe's skin beside me, softer than anything I'd ever known.

"You are kind." He was more than that. He was warmth and the fire that held it. And I could never brave it as myself. The truth would douse it out. "I think I like Denna best from you," I whispered. "It sounds different when you say it. Gentle."

Hopeful. Like a flower unfolding.

"Denna it is."

I smiled. If I closed my eyes, I could just see the shadow of her face. Feel the weight of her heart. I would be lost without her.

"What happened in Anilin, anyway?" Kvothe asked softly.

I glanced away, my smile fading, and brushed a leaf from my hair. I watched it drift down to the cool grass. "Nothing pleasant. But nothing unexpected either."

"Well, I'm glad you made it back," he said lightly, reaching out a hand for the loaf. I handed it to him. "My Aloine."

I snorted, the laughter pushing the memories away. "Please, if either of us is Savien, it's me. I'm the one that came looking for you. Twice."

"I look," he protested. "I just don't seem to have a knack for finding you."

I rolled my eyes in a most dramatic fashion. Though it pleased me. Had he stopped by the Oar after all?

"If you could recommend an auspicious time and place to look for you, it would make a world of difference…" he said, tilting his head in question. "Perhaps tomorrow?"

I smiled, studying the lines of his face. The way his eyes burned as they looked into mine. The questions swirling there, most unspoken. "You're always so cautious. I've never known a man to step so carefully… I expect noon would be an auspicious time tomorrow. At the Eolian."

And with the promise of our next meeting settled, I eased into the comfort of his company. Our words cutting through night's darkness and sheltering us from the chill wind. His hand occasionally brushed mine, briefly and lightly as the falling leaves. The wine warm between us. And our words trembling with hopes we were too afraid to voice. Through it all, the blazing promise of tomorrow.

I never imagined that he wouldn't show.

I waited nearly an hour at the Eolian. It was a long time, and with each passing moment the hope inside me faded just a little bit more. The minutes smothering me in disappointment. Still, I would have waited longer if he hadn't shown.

Ash, Kvothe called him. Though his real name… but it doesn't matter. I doubt it's the one I know. And Ash suits him just fine. Almost better. Perhaps it's the way his very soul seems to burn when he looks at me. As if there isn't one there at all. That's how it felt last night, when he hit me. When he beat me bloody and left me on the outskirts of the farm. My vision was flickering then, but I still remember the blue tint of the flames. The heavy smell of blood weighing down the air. The way the screams still seemed to be fading into the night. Which didn't make sense, did it? It was all done, wasn't it? They were all dead. He had said so. But I was halfway gone already, teetering on the edge of the black. And likely all I heard was the wind.

It was in the Eolian that I met him. The day that Kvothe didn't show. The day of the fire, though I didn't learn of it till later. How odd that a fire should keep Kvothe away while Master Ash would appear and set my world to burning.

He was an older gentleman. White-haired and thin, with a pale, narrow face and eyes so dark they were nearly the color of coal. He carried himself well, despite the cane he leaned on. His clothes were fine, well-embroidered. His very bearing breathed money.

"I do believe Tehlu has smiled upon me," he'd said by way of greeting, settling down into the chair opposite me. I felt a flash of cold anxiety, but I pushed it away. It wasn't the first time a man had sat himself beside me. I had already turned away two in the past hour alone.

He leaned his cane against the table and smiled, his teeth straight and white and perfect. "I didn't think I'd come upon the chance to see you again. Wherever have you been hiding, my dear?"

"I'm sorry?" I said uneasily, my eyes sliding to the handle of his cane, which was set with several blue jewels. I forced my gaze away, meeting his eyes instead. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Of course," he said. "Of course. Daft of me. I know of you, my dear, but I daresay you know nothing of me."

I offered him a careful, guarded smile. "And what is it you know, sir?"

"Ahh, I have heard you sing," he said easily. "Just here, with that young man. As Aloine. The Lay of Sir Savien Traliard, wasn't it? Quite a ballad, quite a ballad." He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. "And your voice, my dear, was like the first drop of rain gracing parched ground."

"Thank you," I said, taken back. And the smile I offered him was an easier one.

"Such a lovely voice." He leaned back in his chair, looking me over. "Such fire. Such luck, that I should run into you today. I've been hoping to for quite some time." His dark eyes met mine, his look so piercing it was near uncomfortable. "Is it true, my dear, that you're looking for a patron?"

"Yes."

I was almost not aware of responding. The way the word slipped out of me, it was as if someone else had spoken it. Somewhere in my chest, my heart sped up, pounding in rhythm against my ribcage. I forced myself to smile, unsure why I was suddenly so nervous.

"Yes," I repeated, with intent now. "I am."

His mouth curved into a smile, wide enough to display his perfect teeth. "Well, my dear, that is wondrous news indeed. It so happens, I'm in search of a musician."

"A singer?" I asked, all but holding my breath.

He shrugged with careless abandon, the tips of his white hair brushing the fine fabric of his shirt. "A singer. A songwriter. A harpist, perhaps. A jack of all trades, if you must. Do you play as well?"

"Just a bit," I said truthfully. "But I'm a quick study, sir. I can learn to play anything, should you ask it of me."

He let out a delightful laugh. "Such enthusiasm. Would you show me?"

"Here?" I asked, glancing around.

"Of course not." His eyes twinkled in amusement. "We wouldn't want someone to steal you away, now would we?" He rose, taking hold of his cane once more. "I know of just the place. Will you walk with me?"

"I…" My eyes flicked briefly to the door. Save for Deoch, it was empty.

"Are you waiting for a better engagement, my dear?" My gentleman friend cocked his head, watching me. "I wouldn't like to hold you up."

"No," I said. "No, I'm all yours."

I stood, offering him a curtsy. He smiled once again.

"Lovely. Whatever are you called, my dear?"

"Denna," I said firmly.

He smiled. "Are you, now? Delightful."

"And you, sir?" I asked, following him to the door. "What shall I call you?"

"I shall tell you," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "When you have earned it." He chuckled and resumed his trek to the door.

I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I simply followed him out into the courtyard, my palms slightly sticky with sweat. I calmed myself down by reminding myself about the knife strapped to my hip. It was still daylight. And should this venture turn sour, I wasn't helpless.

He stopped before the fountain and turned to me. Behind him, the water danced and glittered; the sun crashing against it almost blinding.

"But for now," he said, "I shall give you a name. If you must call me something. It would be best, my dear Denna, if you did not repeat it." And he leaned closer, whispering a name into my ear. Much like Kvothe had done a few short span ago. I barely heard it over the rushing of the water.

"Now then, off we are." And he stepped away from me and strode off, hurrying out of the courtyard so gracefully his cane seemed merely an afterthought. I bit my lip, and followed.

Many of the gentlemen I had known were prone to little oddities. They believed Tehlu himself had granted them the wealth and power to tower over common folk. They bought out entire restaurants because they wished to remove an offensive item from the menu. They kept exotic pets that were easily capable of murder or mutilation. Once, I had been forced to flee a gentleman's quarters or risk losing several fingers. For all that, Master Ash was the oddest of them all.

For one, he refused to tell me his name, insisting I call him a wide variety of unusual monikers that he changed by the day. For another, I was to mention him to no one. He insisted that our meetings were to remain a secret. And odd meetings they were. We would never meet in the same place twice. Never in public. Ever since our initial meeting in the Eolian, he never once set foot in a restaurant, tavern, or pub. We spoke in the dark rooms of inns. Along deserted riverbanks. In the wooded areas of Imre's most private gardens. Some days he would set a meeting and never appear at all, though I would wait for hours. As if he were testing my dedication. My loyalty.

Sometimes the tests were obvious. Once, a woman approached me in the street and offered me money for information about him. I told her nothing, and relayed the encounter to Ash. His smile had grown wide enough to stretch his face upon hearing my words.

"It was but a test," he explained, as if such a thing was perfectly normal. "If we are to work together, I need to know you can be trusted. And you, my dear Denna, have passed."

Two days later, several men cornered me in an alleyway. They pushed me up against the cool bricks, and one held his hands to my throat, so hard that the edges of my vision darkened. They threatened to squeeze the life from me if I didn't give them all my coin. They swore, as they taunted me, that they knew of my rich benefactor.

"We'll let you go," the taller man promised in a menacing hiss. "If you take us to him instead."

My answer was a silent drawing of my knife, and its blade rang louder than any words I could have spoken. They left me be after that, hunched and trembling on the cracked cobblestones of the alley long after they had gone. I thought it must have been another test. But I was not brave enough to ask.

The meetings grew more frequent after that. He showed up to most every single one, his delight with me growing each time. And a span went by without anyone threatening me, or asking of him.

And he asked everything of me. Despite his own secrets and mysteries, he would not hold with mine. He wanted to know of my passions. My travels. My relationships. Of how I made coin enough to survive. He questioned my lineage, tracing it all the way back to Yll. For all that, he told me little of substance in return. But he gave me money enough to eat, and cover the cost of my rooms at the Swale. He bought me fine dresses and warm leather boots for the coming winter. And every time we met, he promised he would tell me more. Just as soon as he could trust me. Just as soon as I could play as well as I could sing, so I could leave my mark on the world in his name, which was still wrapped in shadow and mystery.

And in return, he promised to become the patron I needed. He would help me, support me as I traveled the four corners to sing the songs we'd write together. There would be no limitations. Not even in Vintas, where he promised to clear my name, should I wish to return. He would even be willing, he said, to help me search for my distant relatives in Yll, if I so wished. For it was so terribly sad, he'd proclaimed. A tragedy, what had happened to me. No proper young lady should go without her family. It oddly pleased me, that he considered me respectable.

Three days after we met, he brought me a lyre, and spent hours instructing me in the basics of its use. And when music began to pour from its strings rather than disjointed noise, he'd laughed in delight.

So yes, he was odd. He was mysterious, and obsessed with his privacy, and secretive in ways that intrigued me and left me burning to know more. But for all that, he was good to me. He gave me the things I needed. He gave me hope again… that my life could be something more than a string of empty rooms and the long road between them. Even the promise of Yll was somewhat intriguing, though I had no delusions I would find anything worth pursuing there. So even without the clarity of his name or the answers I wished for, I was more than willing to settle for a patron like Master Ash. Especially if none better were forthcoming. Half a loaf was far, far better than none.

So I was unfailingly polite. Enthusiastic. I answered his questions, holding back what little I dared. Hoping that he would sponsor me, formally and officially as a patron was meant to, and deliver on the things he'd promised. I told him of the family I had lost. Of the Red Mare, and the men I spent time with to keep myself afloat. Of how I had nearly married Julian.

I told him near everything, save for my name. And for Kvothe.

Oh, Kvothe.

Would it have been different, if I had met with you that day instead? If the fire Deoch told me of later hadn't kept you away. I know you came back, looking for me, though the time of our meeting had passed. Deoch told me that you asked of me, with ash coating your face and your neck scorched red.

"He looked positively wretched. Poor boy limped here without his shoes. Looked like he fell off a horse," Deoch had explained helpfully.

I went looking for you after. I found you at last, at the Eolian again. But you didn't see me, Kvothe. It was her embrace you sought. Her hand you kissed. Who is she? The beautiful girl who wrapped the cloak around your shoulders, with her eyes like burning silver and the midnight pieces of her hair falling across your face. Her lips close enough to yours to touch.

Did you kiss her after I slipped away? Did you spend the day with her? The night? Is she the reason there is never naught but words between us?

But what right have I got… to ask this of you? I have held the hands and hearts of more men than I can count. And you are free to hold hers. It is not a betrayal. You've never asked, after all, to hold mine.

Still, I wish we could have talked before Ash spirited me away from Imre once again. There was a wedding, up near some town called Trebon in the north. Perfect, Ash had insisted, for my fledgling skills. And he should like to see what I could do. I wasn't sure that I was ready, but how could I refuse?

I wish dearly that I had found you. If nothing else, I would have valued your advice. But you had vanished as surely as if you had taken lessons in disappearing from me. Perhaps you were spending the time in rooms that weren't your own. But I will not think of it.

I climbed to your window, Kvothe, as you had shown me. It was terrible fun. Not like climbing down had been after I found your empty room.

I hope you do not mind me borrowing paper and ink enough to leave this note, I'd written on one of the few sheets I'd found on your desk. As you are not playing downstairs, or peacefully abed, a cynical person might wonder what you are doing at this late hour, and if you are up to no good. Alas, I shall have to walk back home tonight without the comfort of your escort or the pleasure of your company. I missed you this Felling past at the Eolian, but though denied your company, I had the good fortune to meet someone quite interesting. He is a quite singular fellow, and I am eager to tell you what little I can of him. When next we meet. I currently have rooms at the Swan and Swale (Swail?) in Imre. Please call on me, before the 23rd of this month, and we will have our lunch, belated. After that I will be about on my business.

Your friend and apprentice housebreaker, Denna

But you never showed. And three days later, I boarded a barge with the ticket Ash had left for me, and let it carry me upriver. To Trebon.