To Heal A Lonely Heart

The Wolf And His Pup

Hours later, I woke up in our bedroom, Geralt sitting on a chair next to the bed, my tiny hand wrapped in his large ones.

"Ah, there she is," he whispered, leaning down to kiss my forehead. I smiled, still weak and tired, but I needed to see him, I had to see our son. I turned my head to the side, eyeing the crib. It was empty. My eyes went wide and shot to Geralt, suddenly worried. No, more than worried. Terrified.

Geralt chuckled and nodded towards the opposite side of the room, where the table was. I let out a sigh of relief when I spotted a small bundle in the arms of the bard. Jaskier was cooing at the child, gently rocking him in his arms. He was so focused on the little boy that he didn't even notice Geralt and me staring at him. Only when our child started crying, he tore his eyes off the little bundle, searching the room for help.

"He's probably hungry," I murmured, scooting up in bed so I was sitting comfortably against the headboard and reaching my arms out. Jaskier came over and carefully laid the little boy into my arms. Once I felt the weight of this little being in my arms, tears welled up in my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away, supporting my son with one arm, the free hand pulling down the shoulder of my dress – somebody, probably Geralt, had changed my clothes.

Geralt's hand came up to support my hold on our son, but he let it hover over mine, not sure if he should do it, afraid to put too much pressure into his touch. When he realized why I pulled my dress down, though, he let his hand drop, shifting in his seat to shield me from Jaskier's view.

I freed my breast and positioned our child so he could suck on it, milk trickling out already. Once his mouth found my nipple, he drank hungrily. I couldn't help but smile down at my little son.

"I'll, uh, I'll be downstairs if you need me," Jaskier spoke up, "Are you guys hungry? I could make some dinner."

I smiled, my body still shielded from his view by Geralt's broad one, but I was sure he could hear the smile in my voice, "Thank you, Jaskier. That'd be wonderful. Just please, don't burn the house down."

"You know me, Nienna," the bard replied.

"That's why I asked," I chuckled. I heard quiet laughter and footsteps walking towards and down the stairs. Once the bard was gone and Geralt didn't have to defend my honour, he slumped back into the chair, gazing lovingly at our child and me.

"Nenneke is already at the temple again?" I asked.

Geralt nodded. "Yeah, I brought her back after helping her clean you up."

I frowned, "Too bad. I wish I could have thanked her."

"Oh, no. I already did. More than she wanted to hear."

I nodded, humming, gazing down at the tiny bundle in my arms. He was still drinking, a small drop of mild spilling from the corner of his mouth. I wiped it away gently with my thumb, then continued to caress his cheek.

"I still can't believe you used a portal," I chuckled after a while, "I thought you were terrified of them."

"Not terrified," Geralt corrected, grumbling, "I hate them, but I use them if necessary. And having to watch my son and wife die, if I don't get the one person who could save them, seems very necessary to me."

"Alright," I chuckled, lifting the hand that was caressing our son's cheek in surrender. Oh, right!

"And..." I teased, "What did I tell you? We have a son."

"Yeah, yeah," Geralt sighed, feigning defeat, "You were right. Pity, I would have loved to scare off any boy who came to close to our daughter," he chuckled.

"I know you would have," I joined in to his chuckle.

A quiet cooing made my eyes snap back down to our son. He had finished drinking.

"Minne, could you grab that rag and put it over my shoulder?"

With a hum, Geralt did, as I lifted our son so I could burp him. I rocked him up and down, patting his small back gently, until... a little bit of the milk spilled onto the rag.

"Good boy," I cooed, moving him to lay in my arms again while Geralt put the rag away.

"Minne," I whispered as two big, curious eyes stared up at me.

"Yes, my love," my husband murmured as he made his way back to the bed.

"He-he has... he has your eyes," I breathed, gazing down lovingly at the small person in my arms.

"What?!" Geralt rushed back to my side, eyeing our son's face.

"How Nenneke described them to me," I added, "Before your transformation. He really looks a lot like you."

I let my finger run gently through the dark reddish brown curls, big eyes – blue like the sea on a calm day, with a speck of brown in one – staring back up at me, a hint of a smile on his little face.

"What do you think of 'Crevan' for his name?" I asked the little boy's father, gazing at him for a moment before returning my eyes to our son.

"Fox? Hmm. Why not? I like it. It suits him."

"Mhh, my White Wolf and little Fox," I hummed, turning to kiss Geralt's neck – the only spot I could reach from how I was sitting. "Come on, come into bed with us."

"You sure?"

"Hm-hmm."

Geralt kicked off his boots, walked around the bed, climbing in on his side, and scooted close to me, so close that I could lean against his chest, his arm around my shoulder, finally daring to support my arm that held our son, Crevan.

"You did great today," he murmured into my ear, his deep voice rumbling through me, "I'm proud of you, my love."

"I couldn't have done it without you, minne," I hummed in response, "if it hadn't been for you, we could have..." I trailed off.

"But you didn't. You're both well; you and our little Crevan are healthy, and that's all that matters. I love you; the two of you." He planted a lingering kiss to my temple.

"Mhh, I love you, too, minne. You two are my world, my life," I hummed, leaning my head back against my husband's shoulder, gazing up at the gorgeous man who was the father of our gorgeous son.

With a content sigh, I closed my eyes, the exhaustion of today catching up with me again as I drifted off into sleep.