To Heal A Lonely Heart

Bedtime

Just when I set the bowl back in its place, Crevan and Geralt returned inside. Chuckling, I picked the hay out of our son's hair.

"We can't have that end up all over you bed, can we?" I smiled when he rolled his eyes. Definitely like his father.

"Speaking of bed," Geralt chuckled, gazing out of the window at the sunset before directing his eyes back to Crevan, "I think I can hear it call for you."

"But I'm not tired!" the little fox whined.

"Bedtime is bedtime," I said, putting my hands on my hips and cocking a brow.

"But..."

"No 'but's. Come on, off to bed you go," Geralt commanded gently and Crevan huffed, but did as he was told. He went to his room and changed, while Geralt and I remained in the kitchen for a while.

"Just like you," I whispered, smiling.

"Yeah?" Geralt asked with a cocked brow and playful smile, backing me up the table once again.

"Mh-mhh." My bum hit the edge of the wooden surface yet Geralt continued walking towards me until our chests touched.

"How so?"

"Remember when we met?"

He nodded.

"I practically had to force you to sleep in my bed," I reminded him. A smirk appeared on my husband's face and he leaned in closer, whispering in my ear, lips brushing against the shell.

"Hmm. And you made up for your rudeness quite nicely."

"Who said I was making up? Maybe, as a 120 year old virgin, who now had a very handsome stranger in her bed... who says I didn't just seize the opportunity?"

"And then you stayed?" Geralt chuckled, raising a brow.

"What can I say? You're addicting," I shrugged, leaning up to give him a quick kiss before taking a step to the side and walking out of the kitchen towards Crevan's room. Shaking his head, Geralt followed.

"How's your knee, sweetie?" I asked our son as I sat down at the edge of his bed after tucking him in.

"Doesn't hurt anymore," he answered, "Thank you, mum."

Smiling, I shook my head and put a hand on his cheek. "No need to thank me, sweetie. It's my job as your mother as well as healer to take care of you." I leaned down to plant a kiss to his forehead, making him scrunch up his face. Chuckling, I pulled back noticing Geralt sitting down on the chair next to the bed.

"Will you tell me a story about monsters, dad?" Crevan asked with wide, pleading eyes.

I got up and adjusted the blankets, pulling them up to Crevan's chin, and leaned down to press one last kiss to the mob of wild curls on his head, whispering a 'good night' to him before walking out the room. In the doorway, I stopped.

"Don't tell anything too scary."

Geralt only smiled. "I wasn't going to," he assured, "And not anything too long either," he added, now directed at our son, "It's way past your bedtime, young man."

I went up the stairs and into our bedroom, changing for the night while listening to the story Geralt told to our son.

"Want to hear how I saved a princess?"

There wasn't an answer; Crevan was nodding. I chuckled and lied down in bed, covering myself with the blanket, just listening to Geralt talk downstairs.

"We were in Temeria. People there were disappearing during full moon. They were taken by a striga."

"A cursed princess!" Crevan gasped.

"A cursed princess," Geralt confirmed. I couldn't see him, but I just knew that he was nodding, smiling proudly at our son – just because we'd rather not he joined our, or more Geralt's life, didn't mean we didn't teach him about the monsters that walked the Continent.

Geralt continued, "But I wasn't supposed to kill her. A sorceress named Triss – your mum's friend – wanted me to save the girl. So, at night, I went inside the castle and waited for her to show herself."

"Where was mum?"

"She was with Triss. Your mum was sick and Triss healed her. And strigas are very dangerous, so I didn't want your mum with me; I wanted her save. So, when the striga showed up, she let out a screech that would keep you awake for days."

He told our son how they fought, how at the first light of the next day, he locked himself in the crypt, so the striga couldn't get in there and the curse could be broken. He told him how after the rooster called, he got out of the crypt to find a young girl covered in mud on the floor. That he wanted to check if she was okay and she attacked him out of fear. That she bit his neck, and that he could have died if I hadn't been there sooner to tend to his injuries.

"Your mother saved me more often than I'd like to admit," Geralt chuckled and I heard him get up from the chair. "Good night, son. Sweet dreams."

Then his footsteps came up the stairs and into the bedroom. I sat up in bed when he entered, lighting the candles around the dark room with a wave of my hand.

"I didn't realize you'd be still awake," Geralt mumbled, following my outstretched arm and sitting at the edge of the bed. I inched closer to him and started massaging his shoulders. They were tense, like our last days had been. The load had been heavy on both of us, but I didn't realize it would take a toll on his body as well as his mind. With a low groan he leaned into my touch, letting my fingers loosen the knots in his back.

"And miss the story you tell our son?" I chuckled. "How about a bath, hm?" I asked gently after a moment, picking a straw of hay out his hair, smiling to myself.

"Hmm," he hummed deeply, "Sounds good to me."

"Is he asleep?" I asked, crawling to sit next to him instead of behind him. Geralt shot me a questioning look, tilting his head slightly, but nodded.

Smiling, I got up and started towards the stairs and stopped after a few steps. I could sense his confusion behind my back and turned to face him, still sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What? You're not coming?" I smirked, cocking a brow at him.

"This isn't the way to the bathroom," Geralt commented, standing up.

"Hmm. It isn't? Maybe I didn't plan to bathe in the tub..."

Within two long strides, he was in front of me. "So then... what was your plan?" he growled huskily.

"I think you know..." I breathed.

"I'm not the one who can look inside your head."

"And yet I know you know."

Then, he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder. I had to suppress my giggle in order not to wake our sleeping son, as Geralt walked us down the stairs and out the door, setting me to the ground. Gazing up at him, I was caught in his intense stare, golden eyes fixed on me like those of a predator, his wolfish smirk a silent command: run!

And I took off.