To Heal A Lonely Heart

First Day With The Little Fox

A piercing cry woke us up the next morning. Groaning, I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, scooting over to Crevan's crib. The tiny being was wailing loudly, waving his little arms around.

"Shh," I cooed down at him, "Mummy's here, sweetie. Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?"

I picked our little one up and returned to bed, Geralt already sitting against the headboard, a love-drunken look on his face. He held out his arms and I leaned against him, freeing my breast from my dress and positioning Crevan so he could drink. He immediately latched on and started sucking greedily.

"Someone really is hungry," I chuckled, letting my head fall back against my husband's shoulder. "Thank you for making me the happiest woman on the Continent, minne. I love you."

Before Geralt could reply, rushed footsteps thundered up the stairs. Before he could even come into view, I called out, "Good morning, Jaskier!"

Geralt tensed up next to me, about to cover up my chest with the blanket but I shook my head at him slightly, shrugging it off; the most – ahem – important parts where covered by our son and hell, yesterday Geralt had been willing to let Jaskier be our midwife.

The bard entered the bedroom, stumbling over his words, "Is... is he... okay?"

I nodded, smiling down at Crevan.

"But... but the crying?"

I chuckled. "They cry when they're hungry, or tired, or want something. They can't really tell you what they want, you know? So they just scream."

For a moment, the three of us just watched the tiny being in my arms. Again, a little drop of milk ran down Crevan's cheek, and I wiped it away, continuing to caress his little face.

"He's really just the cutest," Jaskier broke the silence after a while.

"He takes after his father," I hummed, nodding.

"Uhm? I wouldn't describe Geralt as 'cute'..."

I sighed, "But he was a child once. And Crevan already looks a lot like his father."

I turned and planted a kiss to my husband's jaw. Geralt was staring at the bard intently, paying close attention that Jaskier's gaze didn't linger on places that it shouldn't. Crevan finished drinking and I shifted him in my arms, so his head was on the level of my collar bone.

"Minne, the rag," I whispered. Jaskier stepped in before Geralt could, fishing the rag from the edge of the laundry basket and placed it over my shoulder.

"Thank you," I smiled at him.

"It's nothing," the bard shrugged, "I'll, uh, be downstairs... making breakfast. Will the two of you come to the kitchen or...?"

Before I could say anything, Geralt beat me to it.

"Nienna's on bed rest, for at least a week," Geralt said in a tone that sounded like he was reminding Jaskier of something, but I never heard anything about me being on bed rest. Sure, I knew that a woman should rest after giving birth, but who had told the men that? Then it came to me... Nenneke. I had only seen her so briefly, and my brain was all over the place...

I shrugged it off and stared rocking Crevan up and down, patting his back until he burped.

"Good boy," I cooed, wiping his little face with a clean corner of the now soiled piece of fabric. His little hand reached for a loose strand of my hair dangling close to his face.

"Oh, no. you don't," I chuckled, snatching the hair from him before he could clutch it in his tiny fist. As I had already expected, Crevan started sobbing and I held my index finger close to his little hand, allowing him to hold it instead. And he did, his sobbing ceasing immediately and I smiled at how tiny his hands really were – my hands were already small!

I know, I know, he is a small child, of course, his hands are tiny, but I still couldn't believe he was finally here. Everything about him was beautiful and pure and my heart clenched with joy every second I looked at him. He was the best thing that happened to me, after his father, and I loved both of them with all my heart.

A tear slipped from my eye, but Geralt kissed it away before it could fall and I let out a choked laugh.

"I love you two so, so much," I whispered, smiling down at our son, who was still clutching the tip of my finger in his tiny fist, "You are my life," I cooed.

I hadn't even noticed that Jaskier was gone until Geralt shifted and stood up, causing me to tear my gaze away from the little boy in my arms.

"Where are you going," I whined slightly, missing his warmth and the touch of the most important man in my life.

"I have to feed the animals," he soothed, "They haven't had anything for almost two days now. I'll come back in right when I'm done, I promise."

"But then you're cold," I complained.

"Just another reason to snuggle back into bed with the two of you, my love."

With a smirk, he pulled on his boots.

"That's not what I meant," I huffed, "You'll make us cold."

A throaty laugh as he tucked his tunic into his trousers.

"Could it be that you're still tired, my love? You're being a little cranky."

"I pushed this little thing-" I lifted my arms a little, "-out of my body not even a day ago. Of course I'm tired."

Another laugh, "I know," he came back over and kissed my temple, "I'm not blaming you. I've seen you yesterday and I can't imagine what it must have felt like, my love. But I know that you're strong, you've just reminded me yesterday, and I'm proud of you, Nienna, so proud of you and our little fox. And I love the two of you more than anything."

In the back of my tired mind, a memory sparked and I smirked. "More than Roach?" I teased.

Oh-uh. Geralt stepped up to the bed, hovering right in front of me, our noses almost touching. He stared me down menacingly as I felt his warmth radiate off his body. His breath fanned over my face as he growled.

"Know your fucking place, woman."

I would have hit him, if it weren't for the child in my arms and the playful smirk on his lips, mirrored by his stunning, golden eyes.

"Arse," I chuckled, but was shut up with an almost violent kiss.

"The three of you are equal," Geralt muttered teasingly once he pulled away. He pulled back further, standing up straight.

"Can you put him back in his crib, so I can sleep a little more?" I asked, peering up at my husband. Insecurity flashed over his face for a split second, but then he leaned down, holding out his arms tentatively. I put Crevan in his father's arms, Geralt adapting to the situation immediately, cradling his son in his arms. Our little fox looked so tiny in the witcher's large arms and I couldn't help the next tear to slip.

"You'll be the best father," I choked out, but Geralt couldn't tear his eyes off the little being in his arms, his face love-drunk and softer than I had ever seen it before.

He stood there for a while, just holding our son, gazing down at him, and I could see that Geralt – deep down – regretted not doing this earlier. But eventually, he lowered quietly cooing Crevan down in his crib, covering him up with his tiny blanket.

"I love you," I whispered for the what felt like hundredth time today. Geralt stood there for a short moment, smiling down at Crevan, before leaning over to give me a quick kiss to the forehead, whispering a "Sleep now, my love," and marching out of the room, grabbing his leather jerkin on his way out.

Lowering myself back down so my head lay on the pillows, I listened to his footsteps and the clatter coming from the kitchen. Smiling, I shut my eyes.

We were a weird little family – yes, Jaskier included – but it was so much more than the little girl from Dol Blathanna ever imagined.

Still exhausted from the previous day, but filled with immense joy, I fell asleep.