To Heal A Lonely Heart

Graverobber

I woke up in the early afternoon, the witcher still fast asleep. I watched him for a while, smiling to myself at how peaceful he looked. Tonight I'd see the monster in him, the side of him that people feared – and that for a reason. So naturally, I enjoyed seeing him all calm and peaceful.

He had rolled over on his side, left arm stretched out to act as my pillow, the right one lazily draped over my waist. Careful not to disturb his slumber, I lifted my hand and let my fingertips ghost along his strong jaw and defined cheekbones, caressing every little scar. I wanted so badly to kiss them, but I was afraid I'd wake him. And he deserved his sleep, needed it. Tonight would be exhausting, for sure, and he hadn't slept last night. If I woke him now, I would probably but us in danger later tonight.

But after a while, I couldn't lie still anymore, as enchanting as my view was. Carefully, I slipped out from Geralt's arms; easier said than done. Once I started moving, he tightened his grip on me subconsciously. It took me a few minutes of writhing to set myself free. Quietly, I got dressed and slipped out of the room to get some lunch for the two of us.

When I came back up with a tray in my hands, Geralt had just stirred, sleepy fingers searching for my warmth on the sheets. Silently, I set the tray down and waited for him to fully wake. After just a moment, the witcher opened his eyes and searched to room, his back still turned towards me. I had to bite back a giggle. Seeing him like this was foreign even to me. Usually he woke before I did, I rarely experienced him this disoriented.

"I'm here, minne," I whispered, unable to remain silent anymore. Immediately, he turned, catching my eyes with a still slightly worried look on his face, which made me laugh softly. "I got you something to eat." I walked over to his side, carrying the tray.

"What time is it?" he rasped in his sleepy voice.

"Few hours till dusk. Enough time for us to get there and set up a plan."

Geralt nodded and grabbed the pint of ale, downing half of it with just a few gulps. I shook my head, laughing. "Easy, will you. The last thing we need is you being drunk."

"It takes a lot more than just a little ale to get me drunk, love," the witcher chuckled, putting the pint down, "You should know that."

***

As dusk was threatening to fall, Geralt and I made our way to the graveyard. The alderman had arranged a small send-off at the tavern, the townsfolk wishing us luck and thanking the witcher for his service – a rare gesture, and in all honesty, it felt more than weird. We took Roach and Shadow with us, a young man had volunteered to wait with them, standing a third of the way away from the graveyard.

We hid behind a row of tombstones not too far away from the graves that would probably be next on the Graveir's menu, but also not too close. The plan was to surprise it from behind when it was just about to feed.

Perched behind the stones, we waited with drawn swords, the silver and steel glinting in the soft light of the moon as it began its slow rise. An owl cooed and the scrub rustled, a twig cracking in the distance. It was like a horror story you told children.

When the moon stood high, the dragging sound we heard last night sounded over the open. The Graveir had awoken, its heavy steps thundering through our sharp ears. A cold breeze carried the stench of rotting corpses to us, as the beast emerged from the crypt, large and ugly. I shuddered at the sight, seeing the thing from so much closer. Geralt seemed to be unfazed by, but then again, he hunted these kind of creatures for all his life.

"Stay here," Geralt whispered with a warning undertone, "Remember, only wh-"

"When you call me, yeah, I know," I finished for him, grabbed the collar of his armour and drew him in close for a quick kiss before pushing him away gently, "Now get this thing."