A new wave of pain hit Geralt as he woke up. He didn't want to face another day without her. He didn't get out of bed, instead pretending to himself that he'd fall back asleep. He didn't.
Yen was breathing evenly beside him. But her dreams were not calm, far from it. Her face was tense even in her sleep, a crease forming in between her brows every now and then. She looked tired and pale. He had barely spoken to her since they came back to Corvo Bianco. Barely even looked at her. He felt a bang shame. Yen had offered her support to him multiple times, though he had refused every attempt. He had not offered his support to her. Nor Celia. This had to change.
As much as it hurt him, it was time.
He slipped out of bed and took the dreaded roll of parchment from the side table, where it had waited him since the first day. He forced himself onwards, not allowing himself time to think. He was surprised to see the house was still dark, not even a hint of light coming from outside. It must still be the middle of the night.
He lit a candle with Igni and sat down in the dining room. He drew a deep breath and opened the letter. He almost stopped right away, seeing Ciri's messy scrawl was almost too much. Ciri had learned beautiful scripture of course, being a princess, but she rarely bothered, much to Yen's chagrin.
Mom and dad,
I'm sorry it has come to this. But destiny can only be kept at bay for so long. Death has been following in my footsteps since Cintra burned and now that I know it is nearing, I find myself at peace. No witcher has ever died of old age and I don't aim to be the first one. Hopefully Geralt will be, that's what I'd like to believe. You two together till the end of time. I also know you'll find your peace with my passing. You will hurt. But one day you will wake up and the pain isn't so bad. And the next, it will have eased a bit more. One day at a time.
I have had a dream. It is vague and I do not know when the fate it showed will reach me, maybe today, maybe in a year. But reach me it will. Inevitable as destiny seems to always be in our lives.
What is left to do is thank the both of you. Without you death would have reached me long ago, maybe back in Cintra, maybe by the hands of Vilgefortz or the Wild hunt, who knows. You have given me two gifts, both immeasurably invaluable. You have given me time. A life, with freedom. And you have given me love. A family. I had lost everything. But somehow I gained even more.
Yennefer, I thank you for the guidance and the care, for the protection and being the best mother a girl could hope for.
Geralt, I thank you for everything. You were always my destiny as I was yours. I like to think I had a part in helping you achieve the life everybody always knew you deserved (except you yourself of course). You certainly helped me achieve my dreams. There are no words to tell you how much you mean to me.
I will miss you both terribly, assuming there indeed is some sort of afterlife.
I find comfort in the fact that you'll still have Celia (thank you for her as well, I've loved being her sister!) Help her. She will not take my passing easily. She will need you more than ever. And once you have helped her, let her go, just like you did with me. She needs to write her own story and you must let her.
I would like to be buried with uncle Vesemir in Kaer Morhen, if this is possible. Let me rest there, as a witcher, where I belong. I do not belong in Corvo Bianco, I wish to not be a burden to you, a dark stain in your little fairy tale paradise you both deserve so very much.
I have written to Cerys also, please take care that the letter reaches her safely. It is all I can ask of you now, though I have no right to ask for anything more of you. You have given me everything already. I have lived and I have loved. What more could one ask for?
With loads of love,
Your daughter Ciri
By the time Geralt had finished he was shaking. The grief was still there as expected. But it seemed to be a little bit easier to breathe.
He went back to bed. As it shifted under his weight, Yen stirred.
"Geralt?" she asked, voice thick with sleep.
"Can we teleport to Kaer Morhen or will we have to ride?" he asked huskily. Yen came closer to him, wrapping herself around him and he let her.
"We can, with Celia's ruby", Yen murmured. "I have everything ready. We can go in the morning."
As usual, Yen was reasonable and prepared. He stroked Yen's back slowly. She soon fell back asleep, snuggled close to him, her face now calm and peaceful.
Nothing would ever refill or repair the Ciri-sized hole in his heart. His child destiny. The snot-nosed brat of Brokilon. The bruise-covered witcher girl with a bad haircut in Kaer Morhen. The terrifying storm of hatred in castle Stygga. The confident, wonderful grown woman he'd got to know in her later years. The witcher.
His daughter.
Nothing would ever repair his broken heart. Nothing would ever take her place. But the pain would ease, from the sharp agony to a dull throb and eventually the kind of bittersweet pain one feels when reminiscing about something wonderful they lost long ago. The pain would ease little by little. One day at the time.