Kyana Of Cintra

12

Kyana's eyes started to flutter open. Her blue eyelashes tickled her cheeks, aiding her in opening her eyes to the world. Kyana's lips parted to let out a gasp of pain, her hands moving to clutch her side. Geralt turned at the sound of the breath leaving her lips, still waist deep in water. "Finally, you're awake." He commented, wading out of the water.

"Nice of you to notice." Kyana replied sarcastically, watching him emerge from the cold water. Geralt chuckled, which soon turned into a huff of pain as his own stab wound stretched and moved painfully.

Kyana gazed at the wound curiously as it rested on Geralt's left side, just above his hip bone. "How's your side?" Geralt asked, ignoring his own pain as best as he could.

"It's nothing I cannot handle. But I must thank you for stitching it. You didn't have to." Kyana replied, trying her best to stand by clinging onto the tree. "Are you alright? You look frightfully pale."

He shrugged, sitting down on a log with a fresh needle, already threaded. "I'm fine." He insisted, pulling the skin of his wound together to stitch his own. However much Geralt tried to hide his frustration and jagged stitching, it was still visible to Kyana.

"You aren't fine. Let me help you do that." Kyana approached him slowly on shaking feet, before kneeling down by the left side of him to take over. Geralt rose a judgmental eyebrow.

"Forgive me if I'm hesitant to let a shaking leaf tend my wound." Geralt stated sarcastically, but let her take the needle anyway. Even through the shaking, Kyana managed to do just as good of a job as Geralt. Her head spun, her side felt wet with blood, and her eyes were blurry, so Kyana trusted her senses as a Witcher to expertly close his laceration. 

His chest heaving in oxygen slowly, Geralt reached out, grabbing a small glass bottle from his bag. It was patterned blown glass with a delicate label on the side that told him what potion he was holding. He opened it, taking a sip of the green liquid within it. He expected something disgusting, but was met with the fine taste of lavender and herbs. Geralt held out the bottle to Kyana, who was reluctant to take it. 

Geralt rolled his eyes. "Relax, It's to stop infections, I'm not going to poison you. If I wanted you dead I would've left you in Blaviken." Hesitantly, Kyana took a sip of the liquid. It didn't taste as bad as she had anticipated, but it wasn't exactly the nectar of the gods either. 

After being handed back the bottle, Geralt corked and placed it back in his satchel. He looked at the shirt in front of him, the hole gaping into it next to his hip, and sighed. Geralt had paid a good few coins for that shirt a while ago in Temeria; he felt it was such a waste. He pulled out a black shirt and shrugged it on, pretending he couldn't feel the stitches embedded in his skin. Kyana leaned against the log, closing her eyes and letting out a small breath in an attempt to ease her spinning head. 

Geralt folded the blankets and placed them on Pegasus and Roach as he saddled the horses. Kyana lifted her head to watch him, using the log as a crutch to stand on. "What happened before I passed out?" Kyana asked gently. "I remember the stones, then it all goes dark."

Geralt huffed, looking at her from over his horse. "We got stoned, I was told to leave and never go back. I picked you up, put you on your horse, and here we are." He filled in, clearly not very interested in delving into the minuscule details of the last hours. "Are you strong enough to ride?" 

Kyana huffed out a weak laugh, standing as best as she could on her own two feet. "I'm strong enough for everything. The question is, are you?" Geralt wasn't sure how to answer that. Instead, Geralt saddled his horse in silence and turned the reigns, pretending he hadn't noticed Kyana's arms shaking when she pulled herself up and onto her saddle. The two started to ride together, completely unaware of where they might go, but open to any possibility.

"I'm sorry about Renfri." Kyana spoke at last. Geralt turned to look at her, regret washing over his eyes for a split second, before they turned cold once again. He had a habit of shutting people out, especially when it came to emotions. Geralt saw no use in them to make rational decisions, and so when Renfri had managed to form this immediate connection with him, he felt very intimidated. 

"It wasn't your fault. Renfri chose her fate the second she crossed swords with you." Kyana met his beautiful eyes, admiring the golden coins that shone in the sunlight. A silence fell over them for a little while. 

"You could've left me in the village, both when Renfri attacked and when I fainted. Why didn't you?" Kyana wondered aloud. She hadn't done anything astronomical for him, why did he feel the need to help her? He thought for a moment.

He agreed, he could've ran and left her behind. She would still have beaten Renfri, and he wouldn't be in any trouble with Blaviken. She would have been killed either by blood loss or the villagers, so there would be no injustice in Blaviken. He would be welcome back, allowed to trade, maybe even had another job there, but he gave that up to help her. He suddenly wondered why. 

"Because you're a fellow Witcher. We protect our own." He stated, as though the answer was obvious. "And I need that potion you promised."

Kyana's delicate smile faded at the last part, but she was overall satisfied with the answer. Kyana said nothing more. Silence greeted them, although neither minded. They enjoyed the other's company, even though they had known each other for less than two days, they felt as though those two days had been two decades.

"Geralt?" Her horse came to a stop. His did too and he turned to face her for a split second, before facing in front of him.

"Hmm?"

"This is for you." Geralt looked back a little, seeing her outstretched hand. He held his palm out, which was comically double the size of hers, expecting something like food to be there. What he was met with surprised him.

"This is Renfri's broach." He stated in confusion, turning the brass pin over in his hand.

"Yes. I know how much Renfri meant to you, even if you knew her for such a short amount of time. I know it killed you to leave her there, so I thought maybe you want a piece of her soul to carry with you on your travels." He peered down at the broach in his hand, the brass glinting in the sun. "That and I feel terrible for killing her in front of you in such a manner." His silence felt like rejection to Kyana. "I'm sorry, I overstepped, I apologize." She gripped onto the reigns, pulling her horse further in front to give him some space.

Geralt reached out, his hand grasping at Kyana's arm. The horse stopped, as did she, waiting for him to scold something. Tears were welling in his eyes, pain and grief lurking there. His eyebrows were furrowed, but not angrily, as though he were trying to understand something he had learnt before.

"Thank you."