Kyana Of Cintra

66

The dwarves led the company into a sort of canyon, the rocks moving dangerously, threatening to fall and hurt someone. "Mind the scree fallin', hear me? Can get a bit rocky round here if it's windy. Which... it is." Yarpen called out his warning, stopping once he had reached the edge. The wind whipped at their clothing and hair, pulling Kyana's clean out of her ponytail and sending her ribbon off into the wind. 

She spat out some strands of her own hair, gazing at the side of the cliff. Built insecurely on the edge was a dwarf sized walkway around the mountain that stretched on for miles. Kyana looked down, noticing the drop of at least 300 feet. One board breaks, one foot slips, and you die. 

"Yeah, you're right, this is a shortcut." Jaskier admitted, looking over the side of the mountain. "To death!" Yarpen scoffed, watching the precarious boards without a fear. 

"You wanna beat those Reavers or not?" Everyone considered this for a moment. 

"We should turn back." Geralt suggested, to which Kyana nodded. Geralt couldn't believe he had managed to make the situation worse for himself with Kyana. First he was an ass, then he wrenched his hand away from her as though she were poison, found that she had been protecting him for years, and now he patronized Yennefer, who is somehow her friend. He couldn't even begin to fathom an apology worthy of his forgiveness. He didn't mean a word of what he said to her last night. He was angry and scared, and unbelievably, undeniably stupid. 

"No." Borch shot down the notion immediately. "We're very close." Jaskier turned back, unwilling to dance with death for a dragon he didn't even need. 

"How could you possibly know that?" He asked, half in genuine curiosity and half in irritation. 

"'Tis a perfectly fine route." Yarpen defended the routes placed there by his people, his gaze fluttering with a temper over the company. 

"For a dwarf." Yennefer stated. She was just told no matter what happens, she could have a child through Kyana's connections. If she wasn't stuck up some gloomy mountain, it would be the best day of her life. She wasn't willing to risk it all for some shortcut. 

"Stifle your mewlin'. You'll manage. As long as you don't look down." Yarpen laughed, not even the slightest bit hesitant to get onto the boards and go. "See you on the other side." He said, stepping on board after board. Kyana did not like the way the dust fluttered downward when weight was added. There wasn't visible dust on top of the boards, which meant dust had gotten into the structure. If dust was in the structure, the wood was weak and easily breakable. 

Everyone looked expectantly at Jaskier to go first, who was extremely hesitant, and with good reason. "Uh, ladies first?" He tried, gesturing for Yennefer to go. She pushed him towards the boards as her way of saying no, following after him as he muttered reassurances to himself. 

Kyana went after Yennefer and before Geralt, clutching the chains with an iron grip. Kyana feared very little; the most fearsome creatures did not make her batter an eyelid, but heights? Heights was her fear. Geralt went for a long shot and slipped his hand in front of him, gripping onto her free hand gently for reassurance. He half expected her to rip it away, to sneer at him like a ghoul at the side of the road. She gripped it hard, almost breaking his fingers with her own, but no complaint came from Geralt's mouth; he was happy she let him touch her. 

When Jaskier placed his foot at the edge of a board, it came off, falling to the ground below, as Kyana had predicted. He cried out, steadying himself on the rock next to it with a small breath of relief.  "Oh, that is not a good sign. That is not a good sign."

"Are you alright, Jaskier?" Kyana called out, her voice shaky in the wind. He nodded, completely terrified. Kyana knew right then how scared he was by the lack of a joking response. Like this, they shuffled along the outside of the mountain for three hours. Never once did Kyana's hand leave Geralt's, and he hoped to god it wouldn't. 

The wood under Borch's foot groaned, snapping in two with no warning and pummeling Borch, Téa and Véa to the ground. Borch caught onto the chain, and Téa caught onto a rock, but Véa soared deep into the ocean. Just before the chain slipped beyond reach, Geralt's hand left Kyana's to grip onto it, holding Borch on his own. He growled at Kyana to get back, more than willing to die in the place of her. 

"Sir Witcher, you will save us yet. But first, you must let go." Borch asked, observing Kyana openly horrified. A vain popped in Geralt's forehead from the strain of holding him up, but he refused to let go. 

"No." He strained, his arm aching from the weight. No matter how hard you train, how much muscle you have, nothing would prepare you for literally holding someone's life in your hands. A plank gave way under Geralt, tilting under the weight of two people. Kyana gasped, rushing forward to stand at bay in case Geralt fell. 

"Geralt!" She cried out, crouching on the planks to grasp his bicep and aid him up. He looked up at her, seeing her eyes practically begging for him to either rise or let them fall, then back down to Borch, who gave a soft, kind smile. 

"Thank you." He said simply, taking the choice away from Geralt and letting go. Kyana let out a sound half way between a gasp and a cry, one of her hand covering her mouth at Borch falling. Following her master loyally, Téa looked up at Kyana, who's eyes begged her not to. Téa let go, flinging herself off of the ledge. 

Kyana screamed a sob, stopping the tears from running down her face at the sight of her warrior friends falling to their deaths. Through it, Kyana sniffed and wildly offered Geralt her hand. "Take my hand, Geralt." She demanded, her tears blurring her eyesight, but she could still see him. 

"You can't hold me, you'll fall, Kyana." Kyana shook her head wildly. 

"If you don't, you will fall." Kyana stated, stretching even further and grasping at air. "Geralt, if you die, I will never, ever forgive myself. I can hold you. Take my hand!" She cried desperately, inching her hand towards his. He hesitated, but took her hand, relying mostly on her strength for them to live. 

With a sharp heaving motion, Kyana took every pound of Geralt's weight, pulling him up so that he could grasp the board and help her lift him. Her arms burned at the weight, straining like they had when she carried him from the Striga, but she didn't care. Kyana didn't stop pulling him upwards until they were both standing, side to side a foot away from the gap. Kyana was on the verge of crying, having just seen her friends die and nearly losing the man she loved. 

"Hey, Kyana, look at me." Her eyes met his, the eyes she adored, which shone full of tears and misery and heartache. "I'm okay. It's okay." And with that, Kyana let her tears fall.