Nightmares

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That night, I was woken up by a whisper. A whisper of a name. It came from my husband next to me. Renfri. He was repeating this name over and over, tossing and turning in his sleep. I contemplated if I should wake him or not, not knowing which was worse.

"Geralt," I whispered.

No reaction. I whispered again. Still nothing. I put my hands on his cheeks, trying to hold at least his head still.

"Renfri."

With this whisper, his eyes shot open and he grabbed my wrists, turning us around, pinning me down. I could see it in his eyes, even through the darkness: he was disoriented. He didn't know where he was, who I was; at least not for a second. He had been there. He had been in Blaviken. At least in his mind.

"Geralt," I whispered again. Something shifted in his eyes. Realization.

He let go of my wrists and slumped down to his side next to me, not daring to look at me as he whispered a rushed apology.

"Fuck, Nienna, I'm sorry," he rasped, "Please, forgive me."

Shaking my head and smiling sympathetically, I turned to face him, putting a gently hand on his jaw.

"There is nothing to forgive, minne. I probably shouldn't have woken you up... You were there, were you? In Blaviken?"

His silence was answer enough, while his eyes told stories.

"You want to talk about it?"

Again, silence.

"You never told me about her... Renfri. You loved her, didn't you?"

Now his expression became pained.

"I love you now, that's all that matters," he muttered dryly.

"I know you do, minne," I whispered, kissing the corner of his lips, "But she still means something to you. Please tell me, maybe it'll help with the nightmares."

Geralt scoffed, but after a minute or two, he started talking. "It's not that I dream about her... but about what she had said to me."

I was silent, waiting for him to continue.

"'The girl in the woods will be with you always, she's your destiny.' At first I thought it was about you, but the dreams didn't stop after we met. They didn't stop when we met Triss in the woods. I have no idea what she meant by that and it's driving me crazy every time I dream about it."

I nodded. "Tell me about her. What did really happen?"

The pain in his eyes worsened and I caressed his cheek with the pad of my thumb.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. Let me see it," I soothed.

He nodded, but he didn't look happy.And then I saw it.

He had arrived in Blaviken, the people there were hostile towards him the second he entered the tavern, only this girl, barely 18 had been nice to him.

I understood why he was drawn to her from the beginning – even though he'd never admit it, my husband was like a lost puppy, ready to fall for everybody who showed him a little affection.

A wizard wanted to hire him to kill a woman he believed to be a monster; Geralt refused. He met the girl from the tavern again, Renfri, and she told him what had happened to her, that she wanted to kill the old wizard, who was responsible for her fate. Geralt also refused her.

I felt that he felt sorry for her, that she had a choice not to be what was made out of her, to triumph over her abusers, but she didn't see that choice, driven by revenge.

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