The Raven's Song:
Am In Need Of Music - Elizabeth Bishop
There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.
Warm, gentle magic spread through his body, melting away the aches and pains in his stiff muscles, soothing his body and his mind, delicate hands tracing the muscle and scars on his chest, Yennefer's magic encasing him in a cocoon of unnatural comfort. Geralt felt as though his body was being purged, his mind cleansed, as the potions were carefully filtered from his blood.
She washed away all signs of his fight, the stains of blood, the stench of decay with her magic, but her presence helped wash away the memories, the fire which burned through his veins and filled his mind with smoke as he focused on her touch, her scent, lilac and gooseberries, the smell of home, of safety and love.
Dusk settled around them as the Witcher lay on his back, eyes closed to the world in this moment of absolute peace, tranquillity, his head in the Sorceress' lap as she stared out into the vineyards surrounding their home, lost in thought. Geralt knew she didn't like this, his return to the path, no matter if it is only for a day, but she did not protest, because she understood. The Giant Centipede nest was too close to home for him to ignore.
Yennefer often tended to the vineyard, her magic helping to rejuvenate the withering plants, to create abundant rain and to give their grapes a unique taste which made their wine second to none. The Witcher couldn't risk it, the thought of Yennefer amongst the vines, Centipedes slowly burrowing through the ground around her made his hair stand on end and cold sweat cling to his brow. She'd assured him that he didn't have to, there were plenty of spells she could use to protect herself, he could even stand guard if he insisted on worrying so much, but none of her efforts could keep him home. But she could help him now.
Geralt wasn't sure how long they sat there, if sleep had managed to claim his weary soul or if he too had been lost in a labyrinth of thoughts, as Yennefer was, and he knew she was, he didn't have to open his eyes to see that, he could hear her mind churning, because he heard her singing. Her voice was soft and sweet like the sound of the Larks which sing at the gates of heaven, as beautiful as the mermaid's song as they calm the fury of the ocean, as dangerous and alluring as a siren's tune as it charms all those whose hearts it pierces.
The Witcher had the good sense not to open his eyes, to still his body, or else risk losing the bewitching tune which cooled his heart and set his mind and body to rest as though suspended in a bed of cloud with nothing but the melody to occupy his senses. He loved to listen to her sing, but only when she was alone, with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company did a tune pass her lips. This was a rare occasion indeed, one he could not afford to lose.
He lost himself in her voice, to the song which carved a story clearly in his mind's eye, to the words which awoke the remnants of human emotion buried within, to the tune which carried his soul to rest. After several minutes Yennefer stopped singing abruptly and her hands froze.
"Geralt." She said reproachfully but in a quiet voice. "How long have you been awake?" The Witcher smiled despite himself as he opened his eyes, peering up at the Enchantress whose eyes were narrowed angrily.
"Long enough." He said, chuckling at the slight glow flooding her cheeks, he loved making her blush, it was always a momentous achievement. But it only seemed to make her angrier.
"Have you got nothing better to do than be disdainfully intrusive." Said Yennefer sharply, folding her arms and glowering at him.
"Yen, I'm sorry." He replied calmly, gently taking one of her hands in his, running his thumb affectionately over the back of her smooth skin. "But please, don't stop. You sound beautiful, I'd abandon all my other senses just to hear you sing again." The Sorceress smiled at him, his awkward compliments melting away her cold ire, as he knew they would.
"Are you sure Witcher?" She purred, eyes shining mischievously, her raven hair cascading down, tickling Geralt's bare chest as she lowered her face to him, delicate hands tracing his scars making his skin tingle with anticipation. "Would you want to lose this." Geralt's other hand cupped Yennefer's face as she placed a light kiss on his lips before a captivating melody once again enveloped the Witcher's senses. Geralt sighed contently, happy to be charmed by the song of the Raven.
Notes:
Hey guys, hope you enjoyed this little short story, the idea was inspired by Riviia (Tumblr) regarding their post on Yennefer and Geralt head cannons, go check them out because they're adorable.