A few days later...

The bleeding had stopped the following morning once Gretchen had finished the potion. Geralt stayed by her side the entire time as she miscarried. At one point during the night the cramps became so bad, she doubled over, hunched forward, holding her stomach and began to moan. Geralt held her, gently rubbing her back, reassuring her that this was perfectly normal. Finally he gave her a potion he had mixed together earlier that morning. He told her it was for the pain. At first Gretchen shook her head, her face pale, and dark blueish purple circles beginning to form beneath her eyes which were glassy with tears. Sighing, Geralt made small circular motions with his thumb against her cheek.

"You aren't a bad person for doing this Gretchen. You know it's the only way. You're sparring this child from a short painful life, much like how you wished you had been. You aren't a killer, beast, nor creature. Just a beautiful young woman who got fucked over by this so called 'destiny'. You have to stop punishing yourself...take the potion to numb yourself a bit. It will be worse if you pass out and wake up to the pain."

"You sound like you've done this before..."

Geralt sighed shaking his head.

"Like I said, once I became a Witcher the choice of ever having children was taken from me. But, I did come across a young...Hell a child, she had been raped and was hiding her pregnancy from her parents. She was desperate and had given her her father's barn to sleep in during a storm. Her...father had been the one to have raped her."

"Lord..."

Geralt nodded.

"Sometimes the real creatures and beasts are humans in disguise. I was able to brave the storm to head a mile up the road to the local sorcerer. He made the mixture, and I came back and gave it to her. I stayed with her that night, she miscarried...and the next morning...I made sure that bastard of a father wouldn't ever be allowed to get an erection ever again."

Gretchen gave a sad smile, before nodding and taking the bottle. Swallowing it, she made a face from the bitter taste, before looking up at him.

"You're a good man Geralt of Rivia."

Sadly smiling, he reached and brushed the sweaty strands that had fallen in her face. Shortly after that the pain began to subside. She whimpered a few times, grasping tightly onto Geralt's hands, before finally the potion started to take hold, and her eyelids grew heavy as she leaned against him. In the morning it was finally over. The baby was dead. Geralt carried Gretchen to the stream, having torn up rags to help her clean herself. She had lost a great deal of blood, and he knew since this pregnancy was under supernatural factors at hand, she was actually beginning to be pretty far along even though the fetus was less than a week or so old. At one point she breathing became labored and she let out a scream as she desperately grabbed onto his arm. When she caught her breath, she went to lift the blanket to see when he simply held the blanket down and shook his head.

"Let me..."

He looked down between her legs and sighed. He saw it, so tiny it was no bigger than perhaps an acorn or small stone. He knew the only way this was possible was because a supernatural cross breed pregnancy was sped up and escalated. When she asked him if he saw it? He raised his head and told her to breath. Sweaty, and exhausted, she asked him again if he saw it? Instead, he told her to take a deep breath, and release it on three.

"One, two...three!"

He yanked on the small dead bloody thing laying in a pool of blood between her two spread legs beneath the blanket. He yanked hard enough to snap the tiny cord, and just like that, Gretchen slumped over having passed out. He looked up, and knew would he over the worst of it now. He worked beneath the blanket, pulling everything else that was seeping out of her. He gently laid her back, and tried to finish what was happening to her. A few hours later all he did see was blood, thick and clotted. He took the tiny fetus, no bigger than a small stone, he wrapped it in a cloth. Before doing so, he saw several wet bloody feathers covering it. Sighing, he went near the stream by a gorgeous weeping willow tree, and put the baby into the freshly dug soil. Staring at the wrapped up cloth, he nodded, before kissing his fingertips and pressing it against the cloth before using his other hand to fill the hole with the rich dark smelling dirt. Afterwards he returned to her just as she was beginning to wake. The cramps had eased, and the sun had just begun to rise. Here he eased her carefully into the stream, and she shivered as he carefully helped her wash up.

The blood took the scrubbing, and twice she lost her balance, nearly slipping on her bottom against the slippery wet rocks. He helped her, rolling up his sleeves, before finally the blood was gone. He gave her another potion to stop her bleeding all together. Once she was washed up and dried, she changed back into her husband's slacks. He watched as she pinned up her hair, and took the cloak he had given her. She looked pale and well as exhausted. She tried to help him pack up the campsite, and when he told her to rest, her lower lip quivered before her knees buckled and she fell hard against the frost covered grass.

"I can do it!"

She shrieked, before she hunched over, and she began to gag. Geralt rushed to her side, kneeling by her when he watched as she vomited up what looked to be a handful of bloody black feathers. Staring up at him, blood dribbling down her chin, she stared up heartbroken. Geralt knelt down, staring at the pile of bloody feathers on the ground. Reaching, he gently wiped her lips with his hand, before she stared up at him.

"I had it didn't I?"

Geralt stared for a moment before she nodded.

"Where did you bury it?"

Geralt sighed before offering his hand. Slowly he helped her to his feet. Swaying weakly, she clung onto him before they shuffled over to the stream where the street one. He pointed to the fresh mound of soil. Sighing, she eased herself down before staring down at it.

"Was it? A boy or a girl?"

Geralt shook his head.

"I'm not sure, it was still so early."

Gretchen sighed, gently sweeping her thin fingertips against the dirt. She sat there in silence for awhile, before finally she nodded.

"I'm sorry..."

She gently whispered, before turning and looking up at Geralt.

"Thank you..."

Geralt went to offer his hand, when she got up herself. He saw the circles under her eyes looked brown and patchy. She didn't look well at all, and her eyes appeared bloodshot.

"Let's go Geralt..."

"I'll help you onto Roach, but we must go slow. I made it so you stopped bleeding, but you've lost a great real of blood..."

"I'll be fine...thank you for giving...my child a beautiful final resting place."

Before Geralt could say another word, Gretchen gently limped over to Roach. Staring at the small grave, Geralt sighed before turning and helping Gretchen up on the horse. Once he was finished packing up the small camp, he mounted Roach, put his arm around Gretchen's waist, making sure she wouldn't fall off, and together they rode away. They had been traveling ever since. The next night they stopped at a small village where Geralt checked them into an inn. Once inside, they sat at a back booth and ordered beer and stew. The tavern was quite crowded, and besides a few curious glances in their direction, they were otherwise left alone. Sitting back, both ate silently and slowly. Since taking the potion, Gretchen had been weak. She had been riding Roach, leaning back against Geralt, listening to the horse clop against the dirt roads, and the wind whistling faintly around them. The bleeding had stopped, as did the pain, but Gretchen felt as if she was losing strength by the hour. She had more than enough potions to slow the transformation down, but she somehow felt different. Her muscles ached her vision at times blurred. Twice she had stared down at her arms, gently pulling back the sleeves of the cloak, and staring at the skin.

The flesh was faintly starting to split in several areas, beneath the thin blood that was trickling through were thick corse black feathers. She had a feeling she would be changing in a mere week or so instead of the months the sorcerer had promised. She wasn't angry or bitter about this, but kept thinking of the life she had been cheated out of. Of the beautiful child decided to mercy kill instead of allowing it to either be born a half creature life herself, it's time slowly running out as hers was the moment her poor frightened mother placed her bloody black feather covered body on the front steps to the whore house. Or even just as well, have it die with her when finally her body collapsed and changed. She thought of those mere few dream like days with Cahir, and how badly she missed him. Geralt very well could have been a guardian angel of some sort, even if this was a binding spell at work. He had stayed by her side, and even did in fact show his human side the other night when she miscarried Cahir's child. She had twice used a hidden bottle and lightly sprinkle on her splitting arms, making the wounds lightly sizzle and close, bitting down on her bottom lip from the pain. She figured Geralt knew what she was doing, but stayed silent. Instead one arm wrapped around her waist, firmly holding her against him as they rode on. Now they had finished their dinner, and climbed the back stairs to their room. Geralt had held Gretchen's hand as they climbed the steps, sensing even after a nice hot meal she still was weak.

He led her up, past two whores who raised eyebrows and stared at the two of them.

"Didn't think Witchers took wives..."

One softly whispered. Gretchen ignored this comment, as they went down the hallway towards their room. She kept thinking back to the poor tiny baby that had been voided of her body the other night by the campfire. Her son, Cahir's heir. She longed for him so bad it actually hurt. She figured she would never lay eyes on him again for the brief time she had left. Still, she wondered had things been different, had destitny not been so cruel, what kind of child would they have had? She thought of what their child would have looked like a year or so old. She could paint in her mind a beautiful boy with Cahir's gorgeous eyes and sharp facial features. Still, these images would't hold simply because they didn't exist. Geralt brought her to their room, shutting the locking the door behind them. There were lanterns lit, and a full basin of warm water.

Geralt led her to the bed, gently sitting her on the edge of the bed before squatting down, and taking her hands. Here he forced her to look at him. His amber eyes glowed by the light of the lanterns. Sitting there, Gretchen saw the expression in his face. Was it pity? Sadness? She wasn't quite sure.

"It's starting to happen isn't it?"

Gretchen was about to lie, to shake her head and blame the trauma of her body from what happened. Instead, she knew she owed him this much. Sighing, she nodded. Slowly she let go of his hand, and undid the cloak. She let it drop, before showing her rolled up sleeves of her husband's shirt. There were healed scars all running up and down her arms where the feathers had been breaking through. She blinked, and knew her eyes had probably had started to change as well slowly, maybe just blood or red rings around her green eyes. Maybe they were just bloodshot, or just plain heartbroken looking. Geralt shook his head and reached down for the bag crammed with tiny little bottles of potion.

"You just need more, I can find another sorcerer...I know many, healers, they can help you they can..."

Sighing, Gretchen shook her head down at him.

"Geralt, listen to me...I need this to be over soon. My child is dead, my husband lost to me. The faster I die, the faster you shall be free..."

"NO!"

Geralt roared, eyes widening in anger. Instead, Gretchen didn't look the slightest bit phased by this. Gently she cupped the side of his face and stared down at him. Here she saw something she didn't think was possible, the brimming of tears in his beautiful eyes.

"You're thinking of several women, one of which is your mother...you feel in the end all of which have abandoned you, and now you fear I'm joining this list."

Geralt shook his head, snapping his eyes shut and shaking his head.

"No, this isn't the spell...I can help you...I can..."

Gretchen sighed, slowly gathering him into her arms. Kissing the top of his white hair, she allowed him to lay his head against her breasts as she held him. Slowly after awhile, she felt him pull back and stare up at her. Sadly smiling, she tilted her head to the side and gazed down at him.

"Geralt of Rivia, had life been different, had destiny been different, and your lives not had been so out of line...we..."

Her words trailed off, before he nodded understanding. Sadly smiling, she brushed some of his white hair back behind his ear.

"The law of surprise, the child you speak of...that girl will be your density, she will not abandoned you. I can feel it."

Geralt sadly smirked up at her. "Can you see the future now? I'm sure that child is a boy..."

Gretchen shook his head.

"Maybe, but ever so...you won't be alone forever Geralt...I promise you that. Now keep me warm...I want to feel something else besides pain."

Geralt nodded, before Gretchen sat back, gently pulling off Cahir's wrinkled and dirty shirt. Tossing it to the floor, she scooted herself up on the bed, before kicking off the boots by the heels, hearing them plop to the floor. Slipping her pants off, she laid back, opening her legs, she took a deep breath, as Geralt rose and began to undress, never taking his eyes off her. Once he stripped, he stood before her naked, taking deep breath, he reached the edge of the bed, before climbing up, before kneeling before her. White hair hanging down, he gently cocked his head to the side, before spreading her legs even wider, before climbing between them, he hovered for a second, before mashing his lips against hers, deeply kissing her, plunging his tongue into her mouth, moaning, before he slipped his swollen manhood inside of her. For a brief second she stiffened, and Geralt suddenly remembered what her poor body had gone through. Withdrawing slightly, he stared down at her concerned. Instead, Gretchen stared up, and gave him a reassuring nod.

"It's okay, just go slow."

Geralt stared down before Gretchen sighed staring up at him.

"It's a shame you can never give a woman a child, what a fine father you would be."

Geralt smiled down at her amused.

"Some may say that's a blessing."

"Perhaps you'll get your chance when you receive your child of surprise."

"I'm not so sure that will ever happen, if I was ever going to collect...I would have gotten him when he was just born. This is no life for a child."

"I feel...he...or she...your paths will cross if destiny does in fact want you two to be together. Trust me. You'll know when the time is right."

Geralt sighed staring down at her.

"I've never had a companion...but...had things been different, had we both been human, I feel...we would have made quite a pair. I envy your husband, even after everything that's happened...I can still see in your eyes that you love him."

Gretchen fought back tears, before taking hold of Geralt's shoulders and bringing him down to her. Geralt took a deep breath, before entering her again. Gritting his teeth at how tight she was, he pushed his hips downward, feeling his ass tense as he grunted, and clung onto her. Here he began to thrust into her at a slow building rate. Faintly both could hear the headboard creak, as he pushed her down, finding a steady rhythm as he wrapped his large muscular arms around her, pressing his chest against her breasts as he continued kissing her, frantic. Feeling the pleasure building, Gretchen tightly wrapped her legs around his thighs, and enjoyed the sensation of his warmth heavy body against hers, the feeling of pin pricks building down below in her healing womanhood, and the very thought magic or not, the feeling of being protected, longed for, and maybe even loved helped her decide that she was making the decision in ending this tragic tale otherwise known as her life and setting Geralt free. At this exact moment, Geralt snapped his eyes shut as he grunted loudly climaxing, lacing his hands into her own. Moments later, he gave one final weak pump inside of her, before collapsing against her. Laying back, Gretchen stared up at the ceiling, knowing it would all be over soon.

She blinked her green eyes now changing back to blood red as tiny black slits filled them. She felt a terrible ache as she kissed Geralt's cheek, as he pulled himself out of her, and laid beside her, laying on his stomach, exhausted. She continued staring up at the ceiling, gently petting his large arm draped over her, thinking of what had to be done.

Elsewhere...

The dogs were going crazy. Cahir had been traveling with several of his own hired men from Nilfgaardian. The men holding the horses pulled back on the dogs, curious as they exchanged confused looks as the dogs howled and began to franticly circle around a tree by the stream in the forest. Cahir sat upon his horse, raising an eyebrow as the men all gathered around.

"What is it?"

He called, slowly stopping his horse, and climbing down. The men knelt down, one pulling back on the ropes to hold the dogs back who howled and pawed at the ground. Digging with their hands, the men broke apart the frozen soil, before one of them stopped, covering their mouth from gagging. Cahir pushed forward, before staring down.

"What is it?!"

He then saw one of the men shake apart a dirt littered cloth. Slowly rising, he unwrapped the small bundle, and there, laying in his palm was a tiny dead gray fetus. No bigger than the palm of the man's hand, a few loose bloody feathers laying in the cloth. The fetus was tiny, the cord still attached, it's features not fully formed, gray and lifeless. Cahir stepped forward, pushing aside the men before he looked down. The man holding the dead child turned and frowned.

"The dogs picked up your wife's scent and tracked it here...it's a baby, God...can't tell how long it's been here, grave looks freshly dug."

The other man holding back the dogs nodded.

"The dogs are picking up a good amount of your wife's blood...but this isn't..."

Cahir ignored the rest of the man's words. Instead he stepped forward, and in a trace slowly took the dead infant from the man's hand. It was nearly frozen solid like a piece of ice. Sighing, he stared down at the dead infant, and knew this was his child. Looking at the tiny feathers, he had heard of of supernatural pregnancies and how fast they developed. Had she given birth frightened and alone in the woods to their dead child? Staring down at his dead son, no bigger than a stone he felt his heart tighten as he refused to show any emotion in front of his men. Shutting his eyes for a second, he controlled herself before he opened his eyes again.

"Pack this, not a word to anyone...head back to the East meeting point. Wait for further instructions, I'm continuing on my own. There will be extra coin for any man who keeps their mouth shut. I hear one word from anyone and I'll gut you and your very own children, understood?"

The men all nodded, looking frightened. These men were beneath his command, and were trusted. Sighing, he folded the cloth around the dead fetus, trying not o allow his mind to linger on the very thought that she very well might have been his and Gretchen's child. Handing it to the first man on his left, he looked him straight in the eye.

"Preserve him in salt, keep him hidden until I return, and remember not a word."

"Sir, do you think you should continue on alone?"

Cahir glared at the man who took the wrapped up dead infant.

"I shall return, travel with haste."

Turning, his cape flapping in the wind he climbed up on his horse, and continued on his way, the freezing wind hitting him, driving the furious tears off his face as he rode faster and faster into the darkness of the forest.

Later that night...

As Geralt slept, naked besides a sheet draped over his waist, his chest slowly rising and falling with each relaxed breath, his huge chest glimmering with sweat, his long white hair hanging over his handsome face. Gretchen had redressed, carefully and slowly, waiting for any noise to wake him. Instead, he slept on. Pinning her hair up, she felt her scars on her back start to open up, thin trickling blood running down her back. She had limped over to mirror near the fireplace, and saw that her eyes had in fact changed. They were a terrible ruby color, with black slits instead. She blinked and saw she had bird eyes. She stiffened a cough, muffling it with her hand, making sure she wouldn't wake up Geralt.

There she opened her palm and saw not just feathers but teeth as well. Looking at the thin blood that had pooled into her palm, she sighed before walking over to her bag with the potions. Lifting it, she stared at the bottles. She knew even if Geralt tried to find another sorcerer who could make the same exact potion, she wouldn't allow it. No, even if this numbed the pain, what would it do? Buy her just a couple of weeks? No matter what, she knew the transformation was happening. She knew the longer she stayed alive, half human, or in the end a terrible monster...a raven with the trapped soul of a girl who dreamed she was human and loved it. Sadly, the dream was over, and the creature was awakening... She sighed, before tossing the bag filled with the potions into the fire. The glass clinked, before the flames engulfed the bag, and the reflection of flames danced across her heartbroken eyes. Sighing, she turned and looked across at Geralt. Sadly smiling, she walked over, careful not to wake him, before softly kissing her fingertips, and gently placing them against his cheek. Geralt continued to sleep.

"Thank you..."

She whispered. Knowing this was it, she took one last glance ay the stranger who had been so kind, yet again, spell or no spell...she knew Geralt was actually a kind soul who's painful past caused him to honestly believe he was destined to wander this world alone. Still, after hearing his stories, watching him closely, and having him by her side since this began made her know deep in her heart that destiny wasn't finished with him. In fact, there was great many things awaiting Geralt for his future, she was sure of it. Still, as much as she cared for him, had learned a great many things from him, she knew this spell needed to be broken. Taking one last look at him, his Witcher medal laying against his chest hair, she stared at him for the human he had left inside of him. Knowing wherever this came to an end, the spell would be broken, and Geralt would be free and hopefully destiny would help lead him towards whatever he was supposed to find. Smiling sadly, she nodded, before opening the door, holding her cloak, and leaving.

Once she was downstairs, she put the hood up on her cloak, and hurried past the drunken people, before pushing the door opening and heading out into the freezing cold night.

Later...

Gretchen could walk no further. She had walked straight out of the village and into the dark forest. She clutched the cloak closed, shivering as her boots crunched the snow and ice. Finally her knees buckled, and she collapsed forward, using the very last of her strength to keep from falling forward, her breath came out in loud gasps as the air. On all fours, she raked her fingers into the frozen snow, slowly watching as her flesh began to rip apart, blood squirting, as talons burst through. Her shoulder blades arched, as her muscles screamed and she violently vomited. There a whole mouthful of blood, teeth, large chunks of organs perhaps, as well as feathers splattered onto the snow. The heat from the blood came steaming up as she gagged and choked. More black feathers came out, bloody with clots hanging off them.

Snapping her eyes shut, she cried out before turning over, staring up at the star lit sky, knowing that this was happening...that she was allowing it. She tried so hard to think of her husband's face as the pain came over her in waves. Suddenly, she felt it happening. Crying out, she rolled back over, her now dark talons clawing into the snow, as she felt her back split open. Blood oozed down her, as she felt them begin to rip through. Screaming a blood curdling scream, she felt the large massive wings burst out through her back and ripping open the shirt. The wings expanded, bloody and dripping, both at least five feet each. Screaming, eyes compliantly changed she could all ready feel herself breaking down and shrinking. She knew it would feel as if she was being torn apart as everything slowly broke down to size until she was the perfect size of a raven. Her scream dying in her throat by her blood stained lips, she knelt there when suddenly she saw him. Somehow he had woken up, and followed her here. He wore his cloak, and stood near a tree, his amber eyes looking both horrified as well as heartbroken seeing this was actually happening.

"Gretchen?"

Gretchen felt a tear roll down her pale face as she weakly stared at him.

"It's happening Geralt...please just leave...I want to die..."

Geralt shook his head stepping forward, boots crunching into the snow.

"You're choosing to transform..."

Gretchen stared up, defeated.

"I need this to be over. Please...just let me die..."

Geralt sighed deeply before he walked over. Squatting down, he stared down at her before gently reaching and cupping her face with his warm large hand.

"Is this what you really want?"

Gretchen stared up before slowly nodding. Just then, faintly not that far in the distance they heard a horse cry. Both turned looking in that direction before they heard a voice over the wind shouting...a voice Gretchen honestly had believed she would have never heard again. The second she heard him shouting over the wind, calling her name, her heart ached as her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Gretchen?! Gretchen?!"

It was Cahir, her husband.