To Heal A Lonely Heart

I Want To Help Her

The images didn't leave my head even after I woke up. I had seen glimpses of her past while I stared into her eyes. She had been sold as a young girl, crooked and considered ugly. A voice echoed in the back of my head, not one I had ever heard before. Even if you were a beauty, still no one would love you. As much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn't. She had been in pain her whole life, inflicted upon her by the cruel world around her, and now she was giving the world this pain back. And that confusion I had seen in her, as if she didn't know why she turned up at our door in the middle of the night. She had tried to cover it, but I could see right through her. If I hadn't been so angry, I probably would have invited her in and tried to talk...

What the fuck am I thinking!? She fucked my husband! She almost ruined everything Geralt and I had built in the last twenty years! And now...

Now it seemed to me that she had no control over herself when it came to Geralt. That she, also, was under some kind of spell.

Groaning, I turned in bed, expecting to lean against Geralt, for him to wrap me in his arms and chuckle at my behaviour, – I wasn't a morning person – but I fell on my face, right where his massive, warm body would usually lie. Now all there was were cold sheets and his scent of wilderness and leather. Well, better than nothing. I buried my face in the sheets and breathed in his scent, my mind now finally letting go of the images of Yennefer of Vengerberg.

Tentatively, I opened my eyes, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the sun – a habit that was hard to lose after each summer. The room was dim, the sun covered by thick, grey clouds. Autumn was arriving at full speed now. It would rain later. Though determining the time with the help of the sun was impossible now, something told me it was already past midday. From outside, I heard the dull sound of carved wood hitting on wood, along with occasional praises and commands. Geralt was training our son, possibly for the last time this year before the winter came.

Wrapping myself in the soft blanket, I got off the bed, shivering slightly as my feet made contact with the cool wooden floor. Quickly, I scurried over to the chest that held our clothes, pulling out a thick woollen dress and a pair of socks, before getting dressed. I tied my hair together and made my way down to the kitchen, grabbing a slice of bread to nibble on while joining my son and husband outside.

"You're getting better and better, little fox," I marvelled once I was close enough, watching as he charged at the straw puppet with precise hits. The way he fought, you could think he trained for longer than just a few months. I chuckled when no reaction came from Crevan, too focused on his 'opponent'. "Following your father's advice I see," I mumbled to deaf ears. Keeping a safe distance, I walked around the little fighter, not keen to be hit by his wooden sword. It wouldn't be dangerous, but I could live without a bruise. I stepped up next to Geralt and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pressing a short kiss to the top of my head before focusing on our son again.

"Morning, love," he mumbled into my hair, "How are you?"

"Morning," I sighed, "Tired, and I can't get her out of my head."

"Try to forget about her," he grumbled in return, annoyed at her for showing up last night.

I chuckled dryly, "I wish I could. But she seemed so confused and hurt. She hid it well, but..."

"Forget about her," Geralt spoke again, but I shook my head.

"I can't. She... I think she is under some kind of spell. Just like you are under hers. You are bound now, somehow..." I mumbled, "Maybe it's the djinn's magic. Whatever you wished for, that's its twist."

Now it was Geralt's turn to sigh, deeply so, running a hand over his face. "I never wanted that to happen. All I wanted was to save her life, because she saved Jaskier."