To Heal A Lonely Heart

Had To Let Him Go

But talking it out didn't help against the dreams. At first it was like the night we first talked about it; Geralt would whisper her name over and over, growing louder until I woke him. He'd always pin me down, disoriented, and sometimes he'd even have a hand on my throat. It would only take him a second to realize where he was and who I was; that it had just been a dream, a repressed memory. But since it would happen every night, the damage soon became obvious. Bruises would cover my neck, his grip, even too short to make me choke, was tight. He'd apologize, beg for my forgiveness, but I'd only tell him that it was okay, hold him until both of us fell asleep. Or so I hoped, but he wouldn't sleep.

It had been about a year of Geralt waking up in the middle of the night and suddenly it stopped. He wouldn't talk in his sleep and I was relieved. That was until one night I woke up from my own nightmare, shaking, reaching out for my husband's warmth to calm myself down, only to find the bed empty and cold. And when I opened my eyes to search him, I spotted the witcher, standing at the window, staring out into the night.

"Can't sleep?" I mumbled, voice slurred by tiredness.

"No," he muttered, turning, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. Come back to bed, minne. Please."

And he did. He lied down and wrapped his arms around me holding me tightly, protectively, knowing full well what had woken me if it hadn't been him. he held me until a fell asleep and after that. What I didn't realize then was that he wouldn't sleep.

And his sleeplessness would continue. I'd fall asleep in his embrace and wake up to an empty bed, to see him pace along the wall. We had tried much. Sleep potions, magic, wearing him out with various exhausting physical activities, – for some we'd have to drop Crevan off at Ana's, her daughter and our son were close friends, so luckily it didn't bother them – but nothing worked. And he'd grow agitated, get annoyed with every small thing that didn't go right on first try. Luckily he hadn't yelled at us so far, but we both knew it would only be a matter of time, weather we liked it or not. And we knew it wouldn't be good for Crevan if Geralt stayed. Even though he needed a father, a tired and annoyed one was about as good as none.

We had heard of a djinn hidden in a lake near Rinde, it's magic would be so much stronger than mine. So I sent Geralt away, with a heavy heart, but also filled with hope.

So now the three of us were standing there, Roach waiting to be mounted and gallop away.

"I'll come back as soon as I sorted this out," Geralt promised, then dropped to one knee, lowering himself to Crevan's level. He pulled our son in for a long hug then grabbed his shoulders and fixed him with his intense gaze. "Be good for your mum, will you?" Crevan nodded. With a smile, Geralt ruffled our son's hair. "Good."

Then he stood back up and pulled me towards him by my waist, resting his forehead against mine. I cupped his jaw in my small hands, caressing his cheeks softly with the pad of my thumb. There were no words needed between us to know how much we hated this, but he wouldn't do it for himself, not for me, but for our son. This was necessary, we all knew this.

"Please take care of yourself. A djinn is nothing to mess with," I breathed.

A small smile cracked on his face. "I'm also no one to mess with," he mumbled. "I'll be safe, I promise. Take good care of Crevan."

"You know I will," I chuckled, "I love you. Please hurry."

"I will. I love you." He leaned in to kiss me and I kissed back, savouring every second he was here. Still, the kiss was bittersweet.

Too soon, he pulled away, caressed my cheek one last time and ruffled through Crevan's hair, before he turned and mounted Roach, and lead her north.

I didn't know why, but it felt different from when he left for a job. I guessed it was the uncertainty of the outcome. On a hunt, we'd know that he'd kill the monster and come home with coin. This... we couldn't know the outcome, the consequences of his wish. Would it even work at all?

Crevan and I stood outside and watched as Geralt disappeared behind the trees, the thunder of Roach's hooves on the dirt road slowly fading. Only when it was completely silent except for the sounds of nature, I could tear my eyes off the spot where Geralt last had been.

"Come on, you want to help me bake some bread?" I asked Crevan after a moment.

"Uh-huh."

"Then come on inside," I smiled at him. Better, I kept my mind off whatever may happen with the djinn otherwise, I'd go crazy.

So we baked bread. In the following weeks we cooked much, Crevan helped me with my potions – the non-toxic only of course. We visited Ana and her daughter Ellina a lot, well, Crevan did while I ran errands in the village or visited patients.

Still it was hard not to worry about Geralt. He had barely slept for more than two years. I knew that his mutations kept his mind sharp and his body strong, but he still needed rest! And in the last two years I had felt helpless, trying to find a way for him to sleep, but nothing worked. It was my job to take care of him, just as it was his job to take care of me, and whereas he succeeded, I couldn't help but think I failed. It made me feel miserable and guilty, and often he had to hold me at night as I cried myself to sleep, pleading him to forgive me, that I couldn't help him; this made me feel even worse. And I hated that he felt he had to reassure me that it wasn't my fault, because it was. I had all the knowledge about potions and magic, but couldn't help him sleep! What use was I?

I had also asked Triss for help, but even the potion she had made hadn't worked. It had made me feel even more desperate. I hated our situation, and I hated that a djinn was our last hope. A djinn of all creatures! We had no idea what the consequences would be. For all I knew about these twisted creatures, if he wished for sleep, it could be possible that he'd never wake up again, slept forever. I hated the idea with every fibre of my being, but it was our last hope. We had already tried everything and now all I could do was wait for Geralt to return.

So instead, I concentrated on Crevan, showed him how to take care of his horse. A year ago, we had bought him a foal, a pretty, white mare with a cute little brown snip on her snout. And he had named her Cod. What was it with my men and naming their horses after fish?! But Cod loved him, came up running to him and not leaving until he had cuddled her for at least five minutes. They were made for each other. And I trained her, got her used to wearing saddle and bridle. She was too young to be ridden yet, but she was already well behaved, so I thought getting her used to a person on her back wouldn't be too hard.

That was how we spent our time until Geralt came back; cooking, training horses and meeting our friends.