It'd been a couple of years when Geralt returned to the waterfall. So much had changed, he'd felt so much grief.
This is the last place he'd felt content.
Though this time it was considerably colder, in the season and in The Witcher's heart.
It was darker, the moon already lower in the sky. The only thing seemingly keeping the tired man going was his purpose, and his horse.
He crouched down and started a fire, almost sad that the winter had brought the waterfalls might to a much smaller stream. It used to be a sound he could get lost in. Now it was merely a trickle in comparison.
The only comfort he found was that he was so tired, he drifted right off. No sleeplessness tonight.
...................................................
When he came to, he felt cool impressions on his face. The cold morning had given way to snow. He blinked a few snowflakes out of his eyelashes, his vision clearing entirely.
The snow held any sound still, until Geralt heard small footsteps. He hoped it was a familiar face, or something he could eat. He hadn't done enough of that lately.
"I dreamt that you'd return when the snow came White Wolf, you're a year late" The Harmless Witch said.
Oh how he wished he wasn't.
She was a sight to behold, her soft face rosy and fresh. Her lush body coated in furs and woven fabrics. He was weak and hungry despite the new life he felt in her presence.
"Get on Roach, I'll lead you to my place" she said, her soft hand brushing his cheek. "Let's hurry, you're freezing cold." She insisted before giving Roach a small helping of apple and turnip for the last mile of her journey.
Geralt stood stiffly and pulled himself onto his horse. He didn't know what to say, he was just glad she found him, he fears how far he would've allowed himself to fall. If he'd dare not move to drink when clean water was at his feet.
The walk was on uneven ground but Roach managed to navigate safely. When the witches home came into view Geralts back straightened a little. It looked like the kind of place that actually had heat, a bed, even a cot would do.
As the maiden led them right up to the door, Geralt was left puzzled. "Don't you have a stable?"
"I do not, but I have a place for this lovely mare inside" she replied with a nod. Roach was feeling greedy and nibbled on the berry vines draped over the small, stone house, careful to avoid the thorns in the way of the dark fruit.
"We can leave the door open for a moment" the maiden said, leading The Witcher inside. In the far corner he saw a thick plush material layed flat on the floor boards. "It's made by silk worms, the people who can afford it call it a duvet, I make a few each year and store the rest away."
The maiden opened a very narrow cupboard space, in it Geralt saw the floor covered in fruit and the stark white worms, something he can't say he'd seen before. A cupboard was all that was needed, he supposed. "I have to keep them well fed so that they don't try to leave, they're very demanding" she explained before turning her head back to the front door, Roach entering boldly. She smiled and closed the door behind Geralts familiar, taking off her reigns and walking her to her plush, bespoke bed, a trademark hum coming from Geralt.
Roach was being spoilt.
"Well, it's time for your bath, hero.." the witch said, looking at Geralt softly before trailing off to the back room past the bedroom. He didn't protest at the title she'd given him. The bath was slightly salted and had a cup of milk in it. The maiden filled the remainder of the tub with freshly boiled water from the fire, the bath filled almost to the top. The Witcher watched as she threw some colourful oils in, then he turned away to undress. She had used sandalwood, sage and nettle oils. All for a gentle spell of calm, health and protection. Though as Geralt turned back around he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the vase of yellow flowers she kept. She removed a few from their stems and placed them in the water. They stayed flat on the surface as everything was stirred in together.
"You're full of surprises" Geralt said, eyeing the Silphium flowers, their existence still an impossibility. He felt slightly dizzy though, the heat mixing with his hunger.
"You can get in, I'll bring you something to eat" she said, leaving him bemused. Don't kings eat in the bath this way?
Once he'd settled in the brightly coloured swirls of his bath, the harmless witch presented him with a plate of delicacies. Bramble tea that she had dried and brewed, a cardamom cake of some kind, and some sort of honey rosemary bread. In seeing so much of this woman's personality and life on this plate, Geralt was taken aback.
He didn't even know her name.
As he looked up from the mouthwatering creations, she'd already left the room. After all this time, he'd never asked.
It was better late than never, so he'd certainly ask and endlessly apologise after his bath.
The bread tasted like a whole roast dinner, he was convinced he could taste the warm, caramelised fibres of sweet onions. The cake was endlessly buttery, the cardamom giving it a complex, yet fresh taste. And the tea was completely revitalising, the rich fruity berry taste reminding Geralt of compotes and preserves as it cleansed his palate.
When the harmless witch had returned, Geralt had scrubbed and washed his body. He seemed ready to get out of the magic concoction.
But by his hosts standards he wasn't done yet.
"Would you like me to wash your hair?" She offered. Geralt couldn't remember the last time he'd used anything but water on his hair. With a trusting nod tipped her way, the maiden picked up a small vase jug, taking out Geralts hair tie and wetting his ivory locks. She then picked up her Ivy soap bottle, pouring some onto her hands and mixing it with a lavender oil.
He'd definitely sleep tonight.
She lathered up the mix in his white strands, the ivy's natural saponin properties making it bubble and easy to spread. She massaged his scalp, letting the excess oils fall away before rinsing it away into the bath. For Geralt it happened far too quickly, he could have experienced that for much longer. His eyes had rolled back and his mind had drifted off, forgetting about anything and everything.
"There we are, I'll get you a towel" his host announced, not receiving or needing a reply. Which was good because Geralts mind was indeed mush. The steam from the bath and the glow of the candles could've lulled him to sleep on their own. He couldn't help but wonder if she intended to hold him and his horse captive. But not one bit of him minded.
The kindest maiden he'd ever met returned with a towel, patting his hair mostly dry without any protest from him, before securing it all in a simple braid. He really could get used to this.
When she held out a towel for him he reluctantly adjusted himself and got out of the bath, his gaze rested yet focused.
Once he'd allowed her to wrap him in a towel he quickly grasped her hand before she could prepare yet ANOTHER thing for him.
"You must think me terribly rude, but I'd never asked your name.." he said, still keeping hold of her, needing her to know that she is important and worthy. Just the way she'd treated him.
"My name is Carina, Geralt" she said, her voice breaking slightly at the intensity of his stare.
"Carina...." Geralt said pleasingly, kissing the back of her hand affectionately.
