When he finally returned to the tavern, he was surprised to see most of the crowds had dispersed and the rabble had died down, the candles burning low on the tables. Several men and women were passed out in various states of debauchery. He shook his head and stepped over a snoring man on the ground, walking towards the hallway that led to the inn's rooms.
He stopped in front of the one where Lilith was and rapped his knuckles lightly against the door, "Come in, Geralt."
He opened the door and saw Lilith writing something on a piece of paper in the candlelight, a half empty bottle of wine sitting next to her on a table. Her sleeve was pinned to her shoulder and her curls had been pulled back in two tight braids that hung down her back. She looked up as he entered and smiled tightly.
"Find what you were looking for?" She asked icily as he attempted to play dumb.
"I…I don't know what you're talking about." He tried to play off the smell, but the smell of a brothel was unmistakable. She slammed the pen down on the table.
"You know damn well what I'm saying, Geralt!" She snapped, "I saw you walk away and now you come smelling back like…like this?!"
He held up his hands to stop her, but she raised her own hand to silence him before he could speak, "Never mind. You are my bodyguard, not my slave. You can come and go as you please." She sighed and went back to her writing, "I'm sorry, that was uncouth of me."
"Lilith…"
She shook her head in dismissal, "It's honestly fine. Look…" She pointed to the corner and Geralt saw to his surprise a tub still full of water in the corner, "I had the barkeep bring up more hot water for you. I can wait out on the balcony…"
"It's fine if you stay, thank you," Geralt said, taking off the cloak and swords. Lilith opened a small door out onto a balcony where the crickets of summer echoed through the air. The smell of the ocean drifted into the room as Geralt dropped his swords to the ground and undid his shirt yet again, this time allowing it to fall to the ground. "Lilith…this may be considered blunt of me, but we've been travelling together for almost a week now and I have to ask. How exactly did you lose your arm?"
Lilith, out on the balcony, turned just as Geralt had finished dropping his shirt. She marveled at the scars on his back, crisscrossing in mismatched patterns across his pale skin. When she realized that her jaw was hanging slightly agape, she turned her back on the man and watched as Ingrid's shape whispered through the darkness, landing on the balcony next to her. In her talons, she gripped a dead vole, making Lilith wrinkle her nose. "I lost it." She responded plainly, waiting for vole to disappear down her daughter's throat before reaching out to stroke her beak, "I traded it."
"How does one trade an arm, exactly?" Geralt asked mildly, dropping his drawers and dipping his toes into the water. It was still warm enough for him to enjoy and he slid down into the tub, allowing his feet to poke out of the water.
"I traded it as an offering for Ingrid's soul," She responded after a minute. "After Bastian killed her, I prayed that I could save whatever was left of my daughter. I had a friend who…dabbled in necromancy, my only friend in the world and he tried to bring her back. He loved her as much as I did…but it cost him his life and me my arm." She paused and turned around, peering over her shoulder at Geralt who merely had his head back, eyes closed. "The only thing living was an owl and the gods decided that was where she would go. I can still talk to her, you know."
"What do you mean by talk to her?" Geralt questioned, opening his eyes to look at her. She blushed and turned quickly when she realized she had been staring for too long. She looked out over the rooftops and closed her eyes, the sea breeze whispering by her ears.
"We have a special link. I can still talk to her, see her in the hourglass of time. We walk along a desert I have never seen, but she reads the stars and guides me where she can. I can still see my daughter when I wish, but I can never hold her in this life again." She looked forlornly down at the owl who watched her mother carefully with its enormous eyes, "It is a blessing and a curse to live with a shell of a life you created."
"I couldn't imagine," Geralt responded, moving from one end of the tub of the other, "Then again, I'm sure a lot of people can't."
Lilith watched as Ingrid flapped her wings and flew off into the night, a shadow against a waxing moon, "No, I believe you can imagine. I see so much pain behind your eyes, Geralt." She turned and sighed, dropping her shoulders, "The arm was a small price to pay to know at least my daughter is still on this plane with me."
Walking into the room, she sat down and touched the leather of the sheath of a sword, "What's it like, being hired to take out the undesirable trash of this world when you yourself are feared by nearly everyone?" Her lashes drifted down as she traced the wolf on the hilt of the silver sword, "I had fallen from grace before I knew what it was like to be hated by the world."
The water moved and Lilith raised her eyes to see Geralt watching her intently, "It's lonely. You learn to be lonely. You'll never be lonely where you're going." He said it with a touch of bitterness in his voice, "You're still young enough, I'm sure you'd find a husband and have more children than you'll know what to do with. Your line will continue, Lilith."
She turned to him and smiled sadly, "I have already come back once, Geralt."
"And yet look how many people are willing to help you? You are a witch, Lilith. You are dangerous, but you wield magic. You are also respected."
She raised her eyes and cocked her head, "You were PAID to kill me, remember?"
His face quirked up into a small smile, "You do have a point there."
She fell and landed against the pillows with a soft sigh, "Regardless, you are right. I do not know if a feral woman has any place in court, to be honest."
"Funny, because you were hellbent on returning to Toussaint a week. Keep your eyes closed."
Lilith clapped her hand over her eyes like a child as Geralt scrubbed quickly and exited the tub, "That was before we fought our way through Northwood's forces in Boughbright. These are dangerous times, Geralt."
"They always have been." Geralt said plainly, relacing his pants, "We need to practice more fighting soon."
"Why don't we practice with the actual swords this time?" Lilith asked, "Do you really expect me to practice with a stick the rest of my life? What if we got into a duel tomorrow? Besides, we are in Toussaint! Surely we can find a swordsmith who can create a weapon that fits my…erm…"
"Your predicament," Geralt finished, "We can ask Jaskier for a trustworthy blacksmith once we arrive in Beauclair. I can't afford you anything fancy, but I believe armed with the right tools, you would be a formidable opponent, magic or not."
Lilith laughed dryly at the statement and smiled up at the ceiling, "You flatter me, Geralt. I believe I have the grace and prowess of a cow between you and me." For the first time since they had begun talking, Geralt noticed the rest of the wine had disappeared from the bottle and a deep laugh escaped Lilith's mouth and her comparison.
"Lilith…are you drunk?" Geralt asked slowly.
She shook her head as a goofy grin crossed over her lips, "Geralt. I am really, really fucking tired."
"Then I will take the floor and bid you goodnight," Geralt said with a little nod, pausing for a moment. Lilith opened her mouth as if she might say something, but only a sigh came out.
"Just…make sure you blow out the candle." She said finally, her tone exhausted, "I will see you in the morning, Witcher. Sleep well."
"Yell if you need anything." He said, bunching the cloak up underneath his head to act as a pillow.
"I will. Thank you."
"For what?"
"That was the first time I have told anyone about my arm and Ingrid. I'm just happy to hear it come out of my own mouth. Thank you for that."
Geralt blew out the candle and then lay on the floor, the silence pierced by the crickets in the fresh summer night, "You're welcome." He said finally.
"Geralt?"
"What, Lilith?"
"The bed is plenty big if you would care to join me up here."
"I'll stay on the floor. Thank you though."
"Don't mention it."
Finally, as the crickets sang their lullaby, they fell asleep to the crash of the ocean waves against the pier, an owl shrieking through the sky as if in a warning cry.