Hell Hath Frozen Over

Chapter 12

The frigid wind blew over the rocky, Skellige peaks and whistled down the slopes as snow flurries filled the air. But the white wolf was not deterred. For, though he couldn't see the golden oriole, he could hear her sweet chirping coming from somewhere up ahead. It was hypnotic, like a siren's song, compelling him to follow. So, he charged onward, his paws crunching along the snow-covered ground and his hot breath turning to frost with every exhalation. He'd faced down and defeated every monster that had been thrown at him – harpies, drowners, water hags, and the like. So, there was no way he'd let something as simple as a storm stop him. He had to catch her. He just had to.

The wolf crested a ridge and came to an immediate stop, his eyes widening. There in front of him was the golden oriole, her wings extended, gliding on the wind. He let out a short, joyful bark, for he'd finally caught up with her. He'd been looking for so long. The oriole flew low, just over his head, and despite the gusting winds, he could hear her tweeting her dulcet tones at him, filling his heart with warmth. He barked up at her, wanting her to come down out of the sky, but she continued to stay out of reach. This went on for a while – him happily barking and leaping up at her – until she eventually turned and flew towards the Great Sea. The wolf – now flush with renewed determination - instantly resumed his chase.

But the pursuit was short-lived for, suddenly, the mountain ridge ended in a sharp precipice. The wolf came to a halt and stood at the edge of the cliff, the howling winds whipping around him. He glanced outward to see the oriole gliding on the gusts, just a short distance away. He peered straight down – a thousand feet - to see white-capped waves crashing against large, jagged rocks that jutted up from the choppy sea. He barked several times, begging the golden oriole to return, but she came no closer, and then his barks turned to a whimper when, a moment later, she began flying away from him. He couldn't let her leave. Not now. Not when she was so near.

The wolf let loose with a mournful howl and, once again, glanced down at the rocks and waves far below. He looked up, one last time, at the golden oriole in the distance. Wherever she went, he would go, too. So, he quickly turned, running about fifteen feet from the drop-off. He spun on his large paws and then sprinted as fast as he could back towards the edge of the precipice, and with a powerful surge, he leapt as far into the wind as he could, hoping that he could reach her.

And it was then that Geralt awoke in his empty bed at Corvo Bianco.

He threw the covers off and quickly sat up. He placed his bare feet on the cool, wooden floorboards and wiped the beads of sweat from his brow as he tried to slow down his breathing.

"Damn," he whispered to himself. "Been awhile since I had one that real."

He sat there a few moments longer, letting his mind recall the details of the dream. It had clearly been about Vivienne. The golden oriole could represent no one else. But the fact that he'd had a dream about her kind of surprised him. While it was true that he thought about her every day, he honestly couldn't remember the last time that he'd actually dreamt about her. It had to have been months ago, back when he'd last seen her in Novigrad, the week of Dandelion's wedding.

Geralt swallowed hard, exhaled slowly, and when he lifted his eyes from the floor, they landed on a bottle on the nearby bookshelf. Resting on one of the shelves was the empty bottle of Bitter Steel vodka, and hanging around its neck was the black mask Vivienne had bought him to wear at the Passiflora. He stood from his bed and, after approaching the shelf, he picked up the bottle, sighing deeply as he stared down at it. He'd kept the two items as mementos because, despite how things had ended between them, overall, he still cherished those days with the golden-haired woman. The pleasant memories he had of their short time together were easily worth the pain.

And he had no regrets, either – for he could honestly say that he had tried to fix things between them. That day in Novigrad, when he'd found out that Vivienne had sailed to Skellige, at first, he was torn on what to do. On whether to pursue her or simply return to Corvo Bianco. But, then, B.B.'s words had come back to him – from when his steward had been trying to convince him to attend his best friend's wedding.

'Perhaps, you'll be able to find that one thing that will bring you peace and fulfillment.'

Geralt truly didn't know if Vivienne was that one 'thing,' but he'd known for sure that toiling on the vineyard wasn't the answer. And when he'd looked down at Dandelion and Priscilla standing beside each other, hand-in-hand, he'd quickly made up his mind.

The bard had even paid for his passage on a ship, saying, "Go find her, Geralt. There's nothing in this world better than love. Trust me."

So, he'd set off with hope in his heart and confident that he could track her down, for she'd only had a single day's head-start on him. But, amazingly, no one in Skellige had seen her or even heard of her. And he still didn't understand how that could be. There was no way that a tall, elegant, golden-haired, green-eyed Continental should have been able to disappear into that harsh culture. She should have stood out like a beautiful, red rose sprouting forth from the snow-covered ground. But after almost a month of scouring all the islands with no success, he'd finally given up and come back home. And, once there, he'd made one last attempt - the only other thing that he knew to do. He wrote Vivienne a short letter - explaining what had happened that last day in Novigrad and telling her how he felt about her - and sent it to her parent's estate in the southern tip of the duchy. Perhaps, they would then deliver it on to her, wherever she was. He doubted that she'd ever actually read the letter. And even if she did, he knew the chances were low that she'd seek him out, but he at least felt good knowing that he'd tried everything he could to make things right between them. He didn't think he could say that regarding any other relationship he'd ever been in – not even the one he'd had with Yennefer.

Geralt put the bottle back in its place, got dressed, and made his way towards the kitchen. After eating a quick meal, he headed outside with a small bowl in his hand, and, as usual, he stopped at the railing near the front door and took in his estate. The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east, and there was a blanket of tranquility covering the vineyard. He looked about and gave a small nod of his head, satisfied by everything he saw.

B.B. had been true to his word. Despite Geralt's long absence back in the fall, the harvest of the grapevines had been a success even without his presence. Not only that, but the harvest of the olive orchards had also gone smoothly. It appeared, for now, at least, that the witcher would be able to continue to call Corvo Bianco his home for a few more years.

"No more Path for me," he whispered to himself.

He walked over to the porch, placed the bowl on the wooden boards, and rattled it around a few times – just enough to make some noise. Shortly, a scarred-up grey cat came bounding around the corner of the house. Upon seeing Geralt, it immediately arched its back and hissed.

"It's okay, Jokko," said Geralt in a soothing tone. "It's me. You know me."

Geralt rattled the bowl a couple of more times until the cat eventually relaxed. It slowly skulked forward a few steps, and when it realized that it wasn't in any danger, it began to scarf down the food in the bowl. At that point, Geralt reached out and gently scratched the old tomcat behind the ears, and a few moments later, it began to purr as it continued to eat.

"That's right, Jokko," he said with a small smile. "There's no need to be scared. We're pals, me and you."

When Geralt had returned from Skellige, he was determined to become friends with the ornery cat. And, at the time, he couldn't have even explained his motivation behind it. Though, he figured it out eventually. He knew that he had his work cut out for him because cats, for whatever reason, simply carried an instinctual aversion to witchers. Perhaps, it was because they could sense that witchers were unnatural – that they were mutants who could harness the chaotic Power found in the world. He wasn't sure of the reason, but ultimately, it wasn't important. What was important was how to overcome that aversion. It took him months of bringing food to the cat multiple times a day, but eventually, Geralt broke down Jokko's defenses.

He crouched there for a few minutes more, petting the cat, and enjoying his company. He smiled at the fact that he'd finally taught Jokko that he didn't have to be a slave to his fears. That he could choose to overcome them.

"Hell, if you can learn that," he said to the cat, "then maybe there's hope for me yet."

And, indeed, Geralt had learned that truth – or, at least, partially. He'd certainly learned it with regards to the estate. He no longer lived each day fearful that he would lose the vineyard like he had before. Yes, on the days that he worked, he still toiled from sun-up to sundown. However, unlike before, he actually took a day off once a week to recharge his spirit. Sometimes, he and B.B. would head over to the Cockatrice Inn to grab a bowl of crayfish chowder and engage in philosophical discussions. Other times, he'd ride into Beauclair to listen to a band play music at the Pheasantry or to try his luck in a Gwent tournament with his friend, Palmerin de Launfal. And, on occasion, he'd walk down to the Sansretour, throw his fishing line into the river, and then simply take a nap in the afternoon sun.

Geralt looked at the cat happily gulping down his food and said, "Life is pretty good, isn't it, little buddy?" Jokko's only response was to purr, which made the witcher smile. "Well, I'd better start my day. I'll see you tonight."

oOo

It was mid-afternoon, and Geralt was down the slope, working in the grape vines when he suddenly jerked his head up and looked around. He could have sworn he heard a bird singing. That wasn't, in and of itself, unusual for there were plenty of birds that liked to call his vineyard home. But this tweeting was coming from very close by. He turned his head, and there it was, sitting on the top railing of a nearby fence - a golden oriole. At first, he furrowed his brow, unsure if what he was seeing was real or not.

"This isn't another dream, is it?" he asked himself.

The beautiful bird chirped at him, as if it was answering his question.

The witcher just shook his head as a smile came to his face. He clearly wasn't dreaming, but the situation was definitely unusual because golden orioles didn't typically frequent his estate. In fact, the last time he'd seen one had been back in the fall – the day before he'd received the wedding invitation from Dandelion. And the day before he'd had that dream about Vivienne. Recalling that made him furrow his brow again.

"Why are you here, little one?" he asked, and the bird tweeted sweetly.

He took a few steps forward, and just as he was about to approach the bird, it flew away. But it only traveled about twenty yards before landing atop the fence and chirping at him again. So, he slowly walked towards it, and, again, it flew off just as he came close. But, once again, it only flew a short distance before resting on a nearby tree branch and tweeting in his direction.

"Do you want me to follow you?"

The bird chirped happily, and, suddenly, he thought he knew where it wanted him to go.

"I must be crazy," he said to himself. "But, what the hell - I've done crazier things."

And with that thought, Geralt walked purposefully up toward the main house with the golden oriole flying above him the entire time. He stopped at the stables, and the bird settled down on the eaves of the roof.

"Watch out for Jokko, little one," he warned. "He likes birds."

The golden oriole chirped and ruffled its feathers.

A few minutes later, Geralt led Roach out of the stables and over to the garden area, where he'd earlier seen his majordomo inspecting the flowers, herbs, and vegetables.

"B.B.," he called out, getting his steward's attention. "I'm taking the afternoon off."

"Is everything okay, sir?" the man asked, concern clear in his voice. "This isn't your usual day."

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Just…feel like going for a ride."

He wasn't about to tell his steward that he was going off to chase some bird.

"Of course, sir. I'll handle the estate while you're gone."

"Thanks, B.B. See you later," he said before pulling himself up into the saddle and riding westward out of the estate with the little, yellow bird flying just ahead.

And for the next two hours the witcher, his horse, and the oriole made their way through some of the prettiest land that Geralt had ever seen - fields of sunflowers in full bloom; wide bubbling streams of crystal-clear water flowing down out of the mountains; countless deer, rabbits and peacocks parading around a rolling plain of lush grass that moved in the wind like the waves of the sea. And all of it was bathed in the golden glow of the springtime sun. Geralt thought the land looked like some master artist's idea of heaven. Despite having lived in Toussaint for almost three years, he was still in awe of its beauty, and he hoped that he would never take it for granted. That he would always view it with grateful eyes.

Eventually, they rode past Anna Henrietta's palace with its polished alabaster walls and red-tiled roof. It sat high atop a steep, rocky hill and looked down at the city of Beauclair and the rest of the duchy. Soon after, the grassy fields turned into tree-covered hills as they traveled along a narrow trail through the palace gardens on the backside of the ducal residence. Thick oaks, elms, and cedars dotted the landscape, their limbs full of green leaves. And, then, finally, the three of them came to their destination.

The oriole flew into the small glade and took its rest in a nearby tree while Geralt dismounted Roach and let his eyes take in his surroundings. Almost three years ago, in this very clearing, he'd been able to break a curse that had been plaguing a young, beautiful lady-in-waiting. He hadn't been back since then, but, as far as he could tell, nothing had changed. It looked just like he'd remembered. The glade was bordered on the left by a small pool of clear water while a large oak stood sentry on the right. Several butterflies flew about, occasionally landing on the colorful flowers that spotted the grassy meadow.

The golden bird chirped several times, bringing Geralt's focus onto it, and he remembered why he'd come.

"Vivienne?" he called out, hope ringing in his voice, but all he heard was the sound of the slight breeze through the leaves.

He called out again, this time louder. When no one answered, he looked up at the golden oriole, his brow furrowed.

"I thought…" he said before sighing. He shook his head as a small, sad smile came to his face. "No hard feelings, alright? I guess it was just wishful thinking on my part. Suppose I've heard one too many fairy-tales in my life."

The yellow bird tweeted back at him and hopped excitedly along the tree limb. But, by then, Geralt had turned back to his mount.

"Come on, Roach. How about a drink of water before we head back?"

He led his horse over to the pond and let her drink her fill. While she was doing that, he once again looked around the meadow. The sun was starting to set, and the sky in the west was an incredible mixture of orange and purple and yellow. It made the glade look magical.

"How about we stay here awhile? It's too damn pretty to leave just yet."

Roach neighed and began munching on some grass, which Geralt took as her assent. So, he removed her tack and then laid down in the lush clearing with his hands behind his head. While he listened to the sweet lullaby of the birds in the trees, he let his mind drift back to that contract years ago with Guillaume and Vivienne, and before he knew it, his eyelids began to get heavy and, a moment later, he yawned.

oOo

Geralt slowly opened up his eyes, blinking away the sleep. The night sky above him was dotted with the light of a thousand stars and an enormous, full moon. He raised himself up and moved his head from side to side, causing his neck to crack and pop a couple of times. He looked over to see Roach nearby, which he expected. She never strayed too far away from him.

"Seems like I'm becoming a man of leisure, after all" he said to her as he got to his feet. "Because I'm clearly starting to enjoy these afternoon naps." He then pointed at her. "That's just between me and you, got it?"

She neighed at him and swished her tail, which caused him to smile.

He stretched and then looked around the clearing. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but it was perhaps ever prettier in the light of the moon and with dozens of lightning bugs flying about, flickering their luminescent glow. He heard a bird singing on the other side of the glade and saw that the golden oriole was still there. He paused for a moment, taken in by its song. Eventually, though, he decided he'd listened long enough, and he was just about to get on Roach and head home when he heard a horse neigh nearby. It was coming from the trail. A moment later, he saw someone leading their mount, walking in the dark shadows of the trees on the other side of the clearing. And, then, he stopped breathing. For out of the darkness and into the bright moonlight walked Vivienne.

He couldn't believe it. He blinked his eyes a couple of times and then furrowed his brows.

"V-Vivienne? Is it…is it really you?"

He saw a small smile come to her face. She was radiant. Maybe it was just a trick of the moonlight, but he didn't think she'd ever been more beautiful.

"Hello, Geralt. Yes, it's really me."

"Am…am I dreaming?"

Her smile grew at that.

"If so, then we both are."

"What…how…how did-"

"Wait," she interrupted. "I've been riding since sun-up. So, I've had all day to rehearse what I want to say. Will you please let me say it, first? And then you can ask all your questions?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "Yeah, of course."

Neither of them had moved. They stood across the clearing from each other, fifteen feet apart. She was holding her hands in front of her, slightly wringing them together. She bit her lower lip, let out a small sigh and started.

"I left Novigrad heartbroken. I honestly didn't know exactly what I expected with our relationship. I just knew that I didn't want it to end the way it did. But since when does life turn out like we expect? So, I decided to sail to Skellige. That had been the plan all along, before I'd run into you that morning at the Chameleon. But I remembered our conversations, about you telling me how rugged but beautiful the islands were, and…and I realized that I didn't want to see them alone. I wanted to share them with, well, with you, but that wasn't possible. So, when the ship docked in Bremervoord to resupply, I disembarked."

"That's whyI couldn't find you. I searched all over Skellige for you."

She nodded her head.

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"No…I'm sorry…for interrupting. Continue…please.

She nodded.

"So, I disembarked, but I had no idea what to do next. Whatever I thought traveling the Continent was going to do for me, it hadn't. I had the whole world in front of me, but I had no clue what to do in it. I wandered the city that day and night, and I wound up in a tavern that was looking for help. So, with no idea what else to do, I hired on. Can you imagine? Me – Duchess Anna Henrietta's lady-in-waiting - a tavern wench?" She smiled. "I was terrible at it, but they were desperate. I didn't even need the money, but it at least passed the days while I tried to figure out what I wanted. But, after a few months, I knew I had to move on. To what, I wasn't sure. So, I decided to come home. To visit my parents. I didn't know if they'd have any answers for me, but I knew that they'd accept me…welcome me home.

"I arrived yesterday, and there was a letter waiting…" she paused and took a small step forward, "…a letter from you. Explaining everything. Telling me that…how things had ended in Novigrad was all a mistake. There was a letter from my cousin, Marissa, too. It said the same."

Geralt nodded but didn't say anything.

"I was so…so excited and overjoyed that I could barely fall asleep last night. But I did eventually, and I dreamt…of you…of us…here, in this clearing. The place where I was first cursed in my mother's womb. But also the place where you broke that curse and gave me life. When I woke up this morning, the birds outside my window were singing so beautifully, and I was so overcome with emotion that I couldn't help but join them. I sang and sang until tears were rolling down my cheeks.

"And then I dressed, got on my horse, and rode here. I don't know how, but I knew you'd be here."

Geralt glanced over her shoulder at the yellow bird still sitting in the tree. He smiled and gave a slight shake of his head.

"A golden oriole led me here…as if by magic."

"Really?"

He nodded, which made her smile.

"Amazing," she said, shaking her head. And then she continued. "The entire ride here today, I had one question playing through my mind. One question that I had to ask. But now that I'm here…I'm almost afraid to ask it."

"Ask it…please."

"At the very end of your letter to me…" and at that point, she reached into a pocket and pulled out his letter, "…you wrote…do you remember what you wrote?"

He knew exactly what part she was referring to. It had been months since he'd written that letter, but he'd never forget what he'd expressed.

"I do."

"Will…will you say it, please? Will you say the words?"

"Okay," he said with a nod.

But he paused for a moment, just staring into her face, lost in her eyes. He still couldn't believe she was there, standing just a few feet from him. For he honestly thought that he'd never see her again. He swallowed hard and exhaled slowly, and he, suddenly, felt like the white wolf from his dream, standing at the edge of a thousand-foot tall cliff.

"Vivienne," he started, his voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know if I'm in love with you. But I think I'm on the way there. And I know for sure…that I want to find out."

She brought her hand up to her mouth, and he could see tears well in her eyes. After a moment, she dropped her hand to her side.

"Did you…do you mean it?"

He could hear her voice break, and suddenly he was having a hard time breathing. He swallowed hard, nodded his head, and walked towards her until he was standing just a pace away.

"I did. And I still do. And I was hoping…I hope that you feel the same about me."

He slowly opened his hand and held it out to her. She glanced at it for just a moment before bringing her eyes back to his as a beaming smile came to her face.

"Hope…" she said, stepping close and placing her hand in his, "it's a beautiful thing, isn't it?"

He felt her squeeze his hand tenderly, and he wanted to answer her, but he had a massive knot in his throat. He could barely breathe so he knew he wouldn't be able to speak. So, he simply nodded his head.

And then the two broken souls came together, closed their eyes, and kissed. And they lived happily in the moment…for the rest of their lives.

oOo

The End

oOo

Author's Note (November 2020):

The pandemic, the subsequent economic downturn, political strife, chaos and violence in the streets, out of control wildfires, devastating hurricanes and more have all made 2020 a particularly difficult year. So, I really wanted to write a fun, light-hearted tale with a happy ending. And, then, partway through this story, a friend of mine died unexpectedly. And then a few weeks later, another friend died. He was only 25 years old so his death was even more unexpected. Needless to say, those were some sad days, and I'm pretty sure that a couple of the chapters weren't nearly as light-hearted as I wanted them to be. Regardless, I hope that, overall, Geralt and Vivienne's story was able to bring a few laughs and smiles into your life.

I want to thank everyone who either left a review or sent me a PM for this story. I truly appreciate the kind words. Your support, encouragement, and constructive criticism really do make a difference.

I also want to give a shout-out to all the composers and musicians involved with the Witcher soundtracks. As usual, while writing this story, I listened almost exclusively to Witcher songs, particularly several songs from Blood & Wine. The music is incredibly inspiring and definitely helped me get my mind into the mood of the scenes. If you haven't bought the soundtracks, then I encourage you to do so.

This story was finished and posted in memory of my friends, Karen and Rene. Karen was always full of joy and optimism. She brought smiles and laughter to everyone she ever met. Rene was an incredibly kind-hearted young man who had a passion for helping others. He really wanted to be a positive influence in the world. They are both missed.

I hope to write and share more Geralt adventures in the future. Until then, may your lives be filled with grace and peace.