To Heal A Lonely Heart

Forgive Me

Five weeks. It took Geralt five weeks to return. Five long weeks.

I was in the kitchen, washing the breakfast dishes, when I heard Roach coming closer, but something wasn't right. It wasn't her usual thunder of galloping hooves; it was slower. They were only trotting. Something had happened!

As they drew closer, I heard Crevan drop his toys and run out the front door to greet his father. Smiling, but wary, I followed him outside. I spotted both of them at the stables; Geralt was ridding Roach of her saddle and bridle, smiling down at our son, who told him everything he had missed. But something was off; Geralt didn't pay much attention, and though he must have felt my presence, he wouldn't even glance at me.

Finally, he turned, after having brought Roach onto the paddock, but he didn't meet my eyes. Crevan happily skipped past me into the house, certain his father would follow. I stood in the doorway, waiting for my husband to finally look at me, but he didn't. Once he was within my reach, I lifted a hand to cup his jaw, but he turned his head away and walked past me. It was like a dagger to my heart. In the fraction of a second that I could see his eyes, I spotted it: guilt. Something had happened, something that made him feel so guilty that he couldn't look me in the eyes.

"Minne?" I asked, eyes still directed outside. But no answer came. I turned, but didn't find him anywhere. The creaking of the floor above me, though, told me he was upstairs, and a thud, that he was getting out of his armour.

I swallowed thickly and followed him. He had his back turned to the door, letting his armour drop to the floor carelessly.

"Geralt? What happened?" My voice was meek and shaking. His behaviour scared me a little. Why wouldn't he talk to me? "Please, say something," I begged.

He straightened up, his back still turned towards me, but for a while, didn't say anything. Then: "Forgive me." His voice was quiet, but still rough, hopelessness dropping from it.

"Wha-" I started, but was interrupted.

"Please, forgive me."

"Geralt? What. Happened? Why won't you look at me? Please, look at me." Fear was tying my throat, tears rose in my eyes, my begging barely a whisper.

Finally, he turned, but he still didn't meet my eyes, he was staring at his armour scattered on the ground. I stepped closer to him, tentatively so, because he looked like a scared deer, ready to jump if I made a fast movement. But he didn't run, he just stood there until I reached him. I cupped his jaw, forcing him to meet my eyes.

He did for a second and all I could see in his eyes was guilt, like he was drowning in it. The next second, he ripped his head from my touch and stared out of the window.

"Geralt?" I asked for a third time, "What happened?"

"I..." he hesitated, "can't tell you."

"Wha-"

He turned his head suddenly, pained eyes staring into mine.

"But I can show you. But, Nienna, please forgive me."

"What should I forgive you?" I was confused and scared. What had he done?

"Ju... just look. I don't dare to say it."

I lifted my hands to his cheeks, cupping them, and he flinched at my touch, scaring me more. And then I saw it, the pained eyes disappearing as I saw into the mind underneath.

Geralt arrived at the lake, fishing for the djinn for days, changing the spot every few hours. Jaskier showed up, told him about his last relationship, which ended. Geralt was more annoyed than usual and snapped at the bard. Then he found the djinn. They fought over the amphora, Jaskier ripping it from Geralt's hands while my husband held the cork. The djinn was free, and Jaskier thought he was its master. He made wishes, two, until Geralt stopped him. Geralt yelled that he just wanted peace and Jaskier doubled over, choking, as a lump started growing on his neck, blood pouring from his mouth.