To Heal A Lonely Heart

Two Curses Lifted in one Night

Triss ran to tell the king everything we had learned. I helped Geralt prepare for tonight. He'd be on his own, and I didn't like that one bit.

"I could go with you," I had suggested.

And he had held my face gently between his two large hands, gazing lovingly yet intently into my eyes. "No. You'll stay here. It's too dangerous. And your curse... if I'm distracted even a fraction of a second, it'll be the death of both of us. I won't let that happen, Nienna. I promise you, I'll be careful."

That was the end of our discussion.

As night fell, I accompanied him almost all the way to the abandoned castle, the pit in my abdomen returned and I gasped. Even with the task ahead of him, he was more concerned about my wellbeing. He stopped and grabbed my arms.

"Nienna," he stared into my eyes. "Go back. Maybe Triss can help you. I'll be fine."

"But-"

"No, go back. I love you, don't forget that. Whatever happens tonight, my love, just remember that."

The tone of his voice made me anxious. "I love you too. Be safe," I choked out.

He smiled down at me, but it didn't reach his eyes, as they were filled with pain. One hand left my arm and softly caressed my cheek, pulling me in for a deep kiss, full of love and desperation. As he pulled back, I stood there for a while with my eyes closed. When I opened them, Geralt had turned as he made his way towards the castle and the striga. A tear slipped from my eye as I watched him, praying to every god I knew that it wouldn't have been the last time we have seen each other.

When I saw the guards leave from the bridge in front of the castle, I quickly turned and returned to Triss' chambers, not wanting to be confronted with the king and his guards – they probably still thought little of me for being half elven, and I couldn't deal with their insults or anything right now. All my thoughts were occupied with my husband and the fact he might die tonight.

The sorceress had been friendly enough to offer me a place to stay until – or if, but I didn't really want to think about that possibility – Geralt returned.

So I sat in the room, shaking from worry about my husband and the cramping in my abdomen, silent tears escaping my eyes ever so often as I stared into a flame of a candle, having lost focus a long time ago. I didn't notice the young sorceress sit down next to me until she spoke up.

"What is it? With you and the Witcher?" she asked softly.

"I'm his wife," I said with a shaky voice void of emotion.

Triss seemed surprised at that. "I thought witchers have no feelings. At least that's what everybody says."

"Absolute bullshit," I muttered, "He feels more than most humans."

"How so?" By now, Triss was trying to distract me.

"You may have noticed," I began, "I'm half elven. After the Great Cleansing, I found a small town in Aedirn to live in. I worked as healer. The people discovered I was an elf and after years of me helping them, curing their sick, they hired a witcher to kill me, claiming I was poisoning their children with my elixirs and potions. When Geralt came, he didn't kill me, he saw that the villagers were lying. He took me with him. That was twelve years ago. We've been travelling together since, falling for each other was just a matter of time, and three years ago, we finally got married. We- ah!" a sharp pain ripped through my lower body and my vision went black for a second.

"Are you alright? What is it?" Triss exclaimed as I fell to the floor, curling up in foetal position – over the months, I had discovered that it helped best with the cramps.