To Heal A Lonely Heart

Healing

The next thing I did feel, though, was a pounding headache and a dull pain in my abdomen. Groaning softly I opened my eyes to find myself back at the inn. It was dark outside. I heard a soft snoring from next to me and looked down at a dishevelled mob of silvery-white hair. Geralt was resting his head in the crook of my elbow, both his large hands clutching my small one. He was sleeping. And I wanted to let him sleep, but a sharp pain in my belly caused me to flinch, waking the golden eyed man, and immediately his hands shot to my face, cradling it softly.

"Thank the gods you're awake," his voice was hoarse, "I... I feared you wouldn't wake up. Y-you... she..."

"Shh," I silenced him softly, putting my hands over his. "But here I am. I won't go anywhere."

He softly kissed my forehead and sat up slightly.

"You've been sleeping for three days. I was worried. You've lost a lot of blood," he informed me, his voice quiet.

"Yeah. I feel like I've been chewed up and spit out," I tried to chuckle, to ease his worry a little. Big mistake! A sharp pain ripped through my belly, making me wince.

"You have to rest," Geralt said, putting his hand on my shoulder, "And to drink."

Oh gods, yes, water. Only now I realized how dry my throat was, and the pounding headache came back with full force.

Reading the pained expression on my face, he shot up and went to get a pitcher of water. Once he returned he held the cup to my lips, lifting my head a little. I gulped the cool liquid down greedily, cup after cup, until finally the dryness in my throat disappeared. And for the headache...

"In my bag is a bottle with rosemary oil," I croaked out and Geralt immediately understood, digging through my bag until he found the correct bottle, letting a few drops fall into a bowl with water and soaking a cloth with the liquid. He applied the compress to my forehead and I sighed, instantly feeling a little relief from the pounding in my head.

Geralt also changed the bandages on my abdomen and for the first time I saw the wound stretching out on my skin. Three dark red, angry lined ran across my pale skin. They were deep, not deep enough to be instantly lethal – as we could see – but close, simply bandaging wouldn't help.

As Geralt went to cover the wound with a cloth I stopped him. Upon his questioning glance I told him, "It needs to be sewn shut. It won't heal if we just bandage it."

"I saw a healer around. I'll get him." he didn't leave any time for me to protest, he only stormed out the room, leaving me behind, smiling as I remembered the last words he said to me before I passed out: 'I love you'.

I fell asleep, my still weak body feeling exhausted after the conversation. Not long after I was woken up by two pairs of footsteps entering the room. Geralt had found the healer.

"My lady," he greeted upon seeing me awake. I nodded weakly in reply. He inspected the wound on my abdomen. "You are lucky that your friend reacted so fast. You could have died," the healer remarked as he prepared the needle, holding it into the flame of a candle to sterilize it.

Geralt had taken a seat on the bed, giving the healer space to work, holding my hand reassuringly.

"This will hurt," informed the healer.

I just looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "More than it already does? I don't think so," I scoffed. But I was proven wrong. The first few stiches weren't that bad, but the longer it continued the more was I clutching on to Geralt's hand, so hard my knuckles turned white. By the time the healer had stitched up the first two gashes I was biting my lip to prevent me from screaming, tasting blood and tears were forming in my eyes, spilling as I shut my eyes tightly and running down towards my temples.

The healer finished sewing the wounds, applied a soothing salve and bandaged them as I lay on the bed, panting from the pain. Geralt paid and thanked him, and then he was gone and Geralt returned to bed, laying down next to me. I turned my head to look at him, only to see that he was already facing me, laying on his side.

"I will never forgive myself to have put you in such danger," he mumbled after a while.

"No," I breathed, "it was my fault, I should have reacted quicker." I paused, smirking playfully. "If someone is to blame, it's Roach. If she had been quiet-" but I was interrupted by the smiling witcher. "You're on thin fucking ice," he warned and I giggled, regretting it instantly as a sharp pain shot through my belly yet again. But it disappeared as fast as it came and I smiled at the man next to me, when I was suddenly overcame with the urge to yawn. As if I hadn't slept enough in the last few days.

"Goodnight, meleth," I whispered, closing my eyes. I did not expect Geralt to know what meleth meant, but I've been dying to call him that for the last five years.

"Goodnight, my love," came his murmured reply. He knew. Smiling I fell asleep.