Chapter Nine - Beautiful Irony

That is how we awoke, painted against each other, warm and safe. In the few seconds before reality encroached on us with its pointed, unforgiving blades, we kissed deeply and passionately, and it was no more or less wonderful than it had been. Then, of course, we parted as we remembered everything else, and Devi bit her lip to keep from crying afresh. We released our limbs and backed away from each other, staring, thinking, dreading.

A wonderful thing happened next: Devi said, "I'm cold."

Easy as that, we were embracing again. It was still raw and unclean, but not so greatly as the day previous, and only a whit of how illicit it felt the night we discovered the truth. Our affection was turning the tide back, defeating reservations and propriety. No matter how much I looked at her skin and thought about how its tint perfectly duplicated my own, I couldn't let it stop me anymore. Because I knew the person inside it was the person I was destined to be with.

"So, Little Brother," she ventured, voice shaking. "Are you up for some early-morning games with your big sister?"

I rolled my eyes toward the headboard. "Must you put it that way?"

"You're right," she said with a smile. "You're anything but little."

"Devi!"

"Yes, I must put it that way," she told me seriously. "Because the sooner we come to terms with it, the sooner we can forget how difficult these past days have been." A pause, and then, "I'd say 'difficult' is woefully inadequate to describe it, but trying to think of a better word only makes the pain double in intensity."

"I missed you, too." I sighed as I pushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. "But why did you have to take that debtor to your bed to spite me? I hadn't tried to hurt you on purpose."

Devi's brow creased. "That really wrong-footed you, didn't it? I'm sorry, Kvothe, I just... I was feeling so- I wanted someone to scrub that dirtiness away somehow. Not that it worked. And... I expect you did the same. Found Denna or Mola or one of your-"

"No."

"No?" she echoed, surprised.

"There wasn't anyone to find. All I want is here."

"Even knowing?"

For a long moment we stared at each other, into identical sets of emerald-and-golden irises, both of which had taken on a lighter cast; we were afraid in equal parts. So much of me was in her... did it mean falling in love with her was vanity? We were so selfish that we could only care for someone who mirrored ourselves?

But I knew that was bilge water. Devi and I had grown up entirely apart; we saw the world in similar ways only because of the things we'd endured, not because it was etched into our souls from birth or impressed upon us by our parents. My sunny outlook had been marred by the Chandrian slaughtering the Edema Ruh, by my three years in Tarbean living off castoffs and orts in the gutter and sleeping on rooftops. Her own heart had been hardened by growing up without a mother and being ousted from University, forced into an occupation she'd likely never have chosen simply to survive. Our journeys had been our own, and it was mere coincidence that they paralleled. That we were not only physically but emotionally well-suited to each other.

"Please don't," she hissed as her thumb wiped my tears away. "I can't stand it when you fall to pieces. You're typically so strong, and watching the mask shatter and fall away... it's like I'm the one shattering."

"But I want my mask to shatter. Only when I'm here, though. When I'm with the one I love."

Devi's hand jerked back and she glared at me, accusatory and frightened. "God's body, stop it! You had better be blasted sure that-"

"I am. As sure as you were."

"You can't love me - not as anything more than sister! I don't believe you!" Her voice became a little more hysterical, even as she tried to calm it. "I don't believe you. You're just saying these things to soothe me. Always looking out for others at the expense of yourself."

"Feel this," I said as I placed my hands on her chest, fingertips just curling over her shoulders, feeling the continuous thud of her heart inside. In response, she did the same as if I had asked her to (and I suppose I might as well have). "This connection... it is deep and true. This past month has been a dream - most recent span notwithstanding. But don't you see? Even during that darkness, I glimpsed your light at the end."

"What of our identities, Kvothe? We were grown in the same womb. It's sickness incarnate for us to be more than family." But her tone was hopeful. She didn't know how to justify our loden-stone attraction, but wanted nothing more than for me to discover and give voice to the proper words. She yearned for it with everything.

"We've always made up our own rules, haven't we?" I said with a hint of a smile. "Damn convention and and the church's approval. You're my Devi and I am in love with you, and I need no more."

"Then kiss me." Now she was defiant, sounding more and more like the woman I knew her to be. "Kiss me, and if I don't feel yours or my own gorge rising from it, then maybe you're not entirely cracked."

In one fluid motion, I took her mouth and enveloped it with my own. Truth be told, even at that point I was fearful that all my words would backfire, that I would have built my heart up only to have it impaled by the harsh realities of our bloodline. Instead, it felt so much sweeter even than our first kiss had so long before because now it was more than a bit of fun. Now we had battled through an intimidating barrier, one that few broke or circumvented, and still we loved, still we belonged.

Depraved as you may think it, part of me wondered if she was so dear BECAUSE of our relation. If that made her so much more important to me. But I brushed that idea aside; whatever the reasoning, I knew I could never shut her out of my life anyway. She was necessary.

"Such beautiful irony," she giggled a few minutes later, fingertips at my chin, light and fleeting. "That I should ache for both family and a man's touch, and find them both in the same place. If anyone finds out, they'll sing bawdy songs about us in every inn and tavern throughout the Commonwealth."

"Then let's hope they don't so we never oust 'Tinker, Tanner' as the reigning favorite."

"Of course not," she laughed - a true laugh this time full of genuine amusement, wiping most of her anxiety away. Not all of it would so easily be dismissed; that would take time. Her impish grin remained as she reached down to caress my backside. "But let's give them plenty to sing about in the unlikely event it happens."

"You know," I began with a slow grin, "If you add a single 'L' to the end of your name... yes, I think I begin to understand how you tempted me."

"Please," she gusted. "Do you honestly think you're the first to notice that? So oblivious, and yet so... MMM."

I'll not deign to tell you what the "MMM" referred to, as I'm sure you might guess anyway. And, as I've stated before, I consider myself a gentleman.

To Be Continued...

NOTE: Okay so I think I've just about exhausted this topic. Nobody's reviewing anyway... which either means the subject matter is too weird or there just aren't enough Kingkiller fans out there yet. This chapter was the big climax, the next one is more like an epilogue I guess (but it's the last one however you want to look at it). See you soon!