Chapter 21

As the sun dipped below the horizon, and the stars began to glisten in the evening sky, the bard brought in a deck of cards and sat at her side, showing her various magic tricks he'd picked up in his travels. She especially enjoyed the slight of hand, as he made small things vanish from his hands. The fruit and cheese had gone down well enough, so Root decided to try some of the sliced venison on bread.

But unfortunately she wasn't able to keep it down, and after she'd spent an hour or more in the washroom, the Witcher carried her back to the bed. Regis in the meantime had been walking the hallway outside her room while invisible, hoping to catch some sign of the mage or the servant in his thrall. But he saw no one. Chances are the wizard knew it was far too risky to try anything further that day, and the vampire thought they and Root were reasonably safe so long as they stayed together. He was however, concerned for Vernon Roche, the man who also knew the mage's face and had ordered his men to shadow him. For Regis very much doubted that Roche and his men could avoid detection, where as he was certain the stalker had no idea he himself was onto him. Regis hoped they were all safe, but he would not allow himself to be away from Root much longer and so returned to the room.

Geralt had placed her back into bed and covered her as more severe chills began to set in.

"I'm so cold." She said weakly. "How did I get sick in the first place? Did I eat something bad?"

"No. We can get you warm though. Geralt, would you?" Regis asked, nodding to his friend. "I would do myself but your heightened metabolic rate makes you a far better heater than I."

Geralt, remembering his dream, just about fell off the post he was leaning on and Root, already being quite flushed, just averted her eyes shyly. But his friend was right; skin on skin was the best way to keep another person warm.

"But…Regis…" she said softly, reaching for his hand.

"It's alright, my love. This is purely medical and if you don't mind, I don't. There are some things I need to research regarding your illness and I cannot do that while lying with you." He said kissing her hand.

The Witcher stripped off his clothing and climbed into the bed from the other side while the vampire helped her scoot down. Geralt pressed his body up to her back, holding her to him and covered her with the quilt. Regis leaned down and kissed her sweetly, nodding thanks to his friend. Geralt reminded himself that it was only a dream and as he lay there with her, he felt no fear, no energy go out from him, nothing predatory at all. Shivering, she turned over on her other side and faced him, snuggling right into his chest, hearing the thrum of his strong heartbeat. As she lay there with him, Root noticed the many scars running across his chest and without thinking she traced them with her finger. Geralt took her hand and held it, not wanting to enjoy her soft touch too much with her lover and his best friends being a mere few feet away. This was supposed to be, as Regis said, purely medical.

Who is he kidding? Geralt thought.

"Did your trials hurt you, White Wolf?" she asked quietly.

Geralt smiled, thinking it sweet that she'd asked him about that despite being very ill herself in that moment. "Yes and no. In the end it was all worth it. Well, mostly."

Root's shivering began to subside as Geralt's body heat radiated from him to envelop her. "Mostly?" she asked.

"Another time, Root. Just relax and try to rest." He said softly, his golden eyes glittering in the darkness.

The woman looked up at him, her beautiful green eyes hidden by the black orbs of her pupils and Geralt suppressed the urge to growl in anger toward the mage who'd done this to a person he cared about.

"I'd like to know more about witchers, their abilities and…oh my..." She said with a yawn.

The Witcher chuckled quietly. "You're a persistent woman, do you know that? Very well, I shall answer one question tonight, and then promise me you'll rest."

Root nodded. "I promise."

Geralt nodded, satisfied with her answer. "What would you know then?"

"Regis once mentioned that witchers use potions for various reasons and effects. But since meeting you, I've not once seen you use one. Can you tell me about them? Are they made with plants, like the tonic I used? Are they magical? And…"

The Witcher put a finger to her lips and sweetly silenced her. "That's a lot more than one question. Yes, we use potions, too many to name. Some of them greatly increase our speed, some allow us to see in utter darkness, while others give us high levels of adrenaline and endurance. Some heal us, or increase our rate of healing and some are toxic to us, but our mutations allow our bodies to imbibe them with relative safety."

Root's eyes had begun to close listening to the cadence of his voice, but she was intrigued by what he'd said, and blinked away the sleep that was pulling her toward its realm.

"Relative safety?" she asked, yawning. "So there is a danger in using them?"

"That's another question, Root. You promised." He said quietly in his deep voice.

Resigned she laid her head on the pillow and listened to his heartbeat, noticing that the shivering had all but stopped. She felt a cool hand on her forehead and heard Regis' soft voice near her.

"Her fever is much improved. I'm betting you're very tired, Root, but are you hungry at all? Can you eat?" he asked, stroking her hair.

She shook her head, the thought of food and another trip to the washroom not being what she wanted at all. "Mhm."

"Very well, my dear. Rest."

She lay with the great hunter, while her vampire lover kept watch near by and Dandelion snoozed in one of the armchairs, his feet up on a cushioned ottoman. The Witcher too was concerned for Roche but knew nothing could be done at the moment. All of them were targets now that the wizards' plan had been foiled, even though Geralt was very sure the mage could have no idea how or who foiled his plan. Which made him more desperate, and more dangerous, but perhaps also more careless.

"It's so lovely, Geralt…" he heard Root whisper sleepily and he gazed down at her.

She was running her finger over the wolf medallion, the eyes set with rubies that caught the faintest light from the candle on the bedside table. Her shivering had ceased, and he could tell her body was exhausted from it.

"It is." He said, his voice very soft. He lifted the chain slightly so that it dangled and caught the light, reflecting red shimmers in the darkness between them. A sly grin on his shadowed face.

Root averted her gaze, knowing he was teasing her with the secret that was known only to him and Regis.

"Don't look away, Root. Watch." He whispered, mimicking Regis' lilting tone.

But she tucked her head into his chest to try and avoid seeing or hearing him. "Go to sleep, Root." He whispered, playfully brushing his lips against her ear, causing her to curl into him more and quietly squeal.

Regis glanced up over the edge of his book, sipped his tea and rolled his eyes. "You're dreadful, Witcher. Do I need to give you lessons?"

"Don't you dare!" she said, her voice muffled from under the covers.

"I think that was a yes." Geralt said, happy to see she was feeling better, even playful.

The vampire turned the page of his book and shifted his weight in the chair. "Well, my sweet, you'll be delighted to know our witcher does indeed know many ways in which to put someone to sleep. Swinging pendants being only one of them."

Root peered up at the Witcher.

"Is that true?" she asked him.

"Can I show you one?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Alright, get comfortable, and lay your head close to my chest. Good. Now, can you hear my breathing? Match your breathing to mine." He instructed quietly.

As before, Root lay close to him, hearing his heartbeat and she thought about each intake of breath, matching hers to his. With each one, she felt his chest expand and slowly release and she followed it as it got slower…and deeper…each time. In her mind, his pulse became a slow, soft drum beat, like how the elves used to play when she'd stayed with them, and his exhaling became as the whisper of wind through the trees. She barely heard him whispering an elven lullaby as they breathed together as one, her body following his as Geralt intentionally relaxed his heart rate and breathing to that of a person resting in alpha sleep.

When the vampire connected to her mind to check on her, he smiled. Her thoughts were still and silent. A soft snore and a sigh escaping her as she finally succumbed to natural sleep. Geralt pulled the covers up over her shoulders, and then he too closed his eyes and rested.