They had been riding all day. Ever since they left Toussaint, which had only taken them a little over a day, the empty landscape with its lush meadows had slowly turned into a more forest-like terrain. Now, on their fifth day of traveling somewhere in Dol Angra, Mount Gorgon behind them getting smaller and smaller, they were surrounded by trees, their thick foliage blocking out most of the sunlight.
Beneath the hooves of Roach and Nugget sticks and dry leaves were crunching. Other than that, only the singing of the birds and the occasional snort of one of the horses could be heard.
Kit had not said a word in a while which Geralt had long since identified as an indicator for her level of exhaustion. While he could have gone on for a while longer, he decided that it was enough for the day. The sun was going to set soon anyway.
Initially, he had been a little apprehensive when it came to returning to the roads of the continent. Before, he had only ever travelled as a witcher and while his time on the path had left him with a multitude of good memories, there were many incidents that he preferred not to remember at all. Finally having a home, he feared he had become too mellow and comfortable to attempt another strenuous journey. But it turned out that his fear was unfounded as travelling with Kit had a very different quality to it. Any journey, he quickly came to realize, was far less exhausting if one did not bother with monsters along the way. They had ample money to rent rooms in guest houses whenever those were on their path, and sleeping next to Kit, no matter where, made the entire matter thoroughly enjoyable to Geralt. It probably helped, he thought, that thanks to her energy surging through him whenever they touched, anything that had ailed him physically had been fixed. His knee and his elbow had not hurt in a very long time, a fact that made him feel relieved and energetic.
"How about we camp here for the night?" he said, turning around on Roach's back to look at his travel companion.
Kit nodded. "My butt is completely numb. I'm sure I have unlearned how to walk." She patted the neck of Nugget, the beige fur shimmering golden even in the shade.
"Alright, drama queen, let's move away from the road between those trees over there," he chuckled.
"I always knew I was born to be royalty!" she quipped.
Kit had been with him for about eight months now and yet she still thoroughly detested riding horses. They had made short excursions around Toussaint, but never longer than a few days. This was the first time they attempted to cross a significant part of the continent. Kit had been wanting to see more of the world as she had no idea what it looked like. Kaer Morhen in particular had intrigued her.
In the past, only witchers had been allowed in the keep. But for all Geralt knew, the place was completely deserted. After Vesemir's death none of his fellow witchers felt bound to it any longer. It had been a while since he had last heard from Eskel and Lambert and he wondered where they were now and if they were doing alright.
When they reached a small clearing that was so far away from the road that nobody would see their campfire, Geralt dismounted his horse. Before he did anything else, he went over to Kit to lift her from Nugget's saddle. He knew that she could have gotten off the horse easily by herself. But he also knew that she enjoyed it if he took care of her, even if she was too proud to admit it. He on the other hand, relished the feeling of her in his arms after a long day of riding and not touching each other. At home, they used to ride together on Roach a lot but with all their provisions and luggage they needed to split up so Roach would not have to carry a load that was too heavy for her. Kit had also feared that Nugget would not have done well had the horse been left behind. While she did not enjoy riding, she did like the animal very much.
Geralt felt the familiar weight of Kit's arms around his neck, felt her breath against his skin where it was not covered by the light leather armor he was travelling in. He had no intention to fight any monsters or accept any contracts but he liked to be prepared either way. As the past had frequently shown, the choice was not always up to him.
"My legs feel like slinkies," Kit mumbled against his throat.
"What are slinkies?" he whispered into her ear, removing his gloves so he could run a hand through her soft hair.
"Spirals, very wobbly spirals."
"Your legs feel like wobbly spirals?" He felt her nodding. "That doesn't sound good. I might need to check on that later on."
"Yes, doctor." She un-entangled herself from him. "'I'll slink away to collect some firewood and you take care of the horses?"
"Don't go too far," he reminded her before kissing her, the touch of her lips sending a pleasurable jolt through his body.
"Don't worry. One doesn't just wobble very far with a case of slinky-legs as severe as mine," she said and wobbled off. He looked at her with an amused smile until she disappeared behind a few trees.
Geralt knew that travelling his way was not very comfortable for her: While the descriptions of things from her world always sounded a little vague, sometimes impossible even, he still thought he had a pretty good grasp on the level of comfort and convenience that she had grown up with. And apparently just shaking that off was difficult.
Even though she did her best not to complain, he always worried a little. He worried that she would come to hate this world, that her homesickness would return, that he was not enough to make up for all the things she had to leave behind.
Kit returned with an abundance firewood while Geralt was still brushing the horses off. She built a neat campfire that he incinerated with a snap of his fingers. It was April and while the temperatures during the day were rather pleasant, the nights still tended to be quite cold.
Geralt rummaged through their provisions to create dinner from an assortment of dried meats, fruits and bread, while Kit had already spread out the bedroll. They only had one. Taking two had seemed so pointless to them as, no matter how big a bed was, they would only occupy a tiny fraction of it anyway as they would inevitably search for the other one during the night.
"You're okay?" Geralt asked hesitantly when they ate.
Kit looked at him, surprise in her eyes. "Of course. Do I not look like it?" She smiled.
He shook his head. "Just want to make sure I'm not asking too much of you." Just want to make sure you don't end up hating me, he added in his thoughts.
Kit shook her head and scooched closer to him. "You didn't ask for anything. I wanted this, remember? I wanted to visit your home."
"I know but maybe you didn't expect travelling would be like this," he shrugged apologetically while making a vague gesture to encompass all that surrounded them.
"No, I did in fact expect it to be a literal pain in the butt. And while doing this with a camper van would have been much more convenient, I can't say I'm unhappy. I'm pretty sure I saw three types of birds, alone today, that I had never seen before." She bit off a piece of bread and then leaned against his side. "And my body will have recovered by tomorrow, you know that."
He did. The pain in her back, the soreness in her thighs, it would always go away during the night, just like any other injury. And yet, he worried about her constantly. She did not have the skills and resilience of a witcher, not the power of a sorceress. Her ability to heal herself and others was useful, but more of a passive skill. It suited her personality – embracing and nourishing. But it was not going to protect her from the dangers that lurked everywhere, especially since she only had a very limited degree of control over her powers.
Geralt had been able to push these thoughts aside while they had stayed Toussaint. There were hardly any monsters left in the small Duchy, not least thanks to him, and for other dangers there were knight-errands and others that could be asked for help. But this was the real world. He knew Kit was quick and smart, her disarming charm and her kindness rarely left people unaffected. However, he had a feeling that a bruxa might not care. Nor a ghoul or a bandit.
There had been an attempt to teach her how to defend herself. It had turned out however, that she was simply unteachable. This fact had surprised him as she was not at all untrained. He would often find her exercising, doing odd things that she referred to as 'fitness', the resulting core strength clearly visible from the faint lines of her abs – something he marveled over every time he undressed her. Kit would still start her mornings with runs around Corvo Bianco which made Geralt think that at least she would easily outrun anybody who wanted to harm her, particularly if they were wearing heavy armor. And she was pretty skilled when it came to climbing trees.
"Were your parents apes?" he had asked her when he first saw her climb a tree.
"Well, not my parents but, I mean, kind of?"
Geralt, who thought nothing about her world could surprise him anymore, managed to be somewhat shocked: "You are related to apes?" he asked in disbelief which made her laugh.
"Aren't we all?"
"No, most certainly not!" Geralt protested. But he already noticed Kit's amused gaze and he knew she would tell him how and why he was wrong.
"What's a camper van?" Geralt asked, trying to push those worries aside.
"Do you remember what cars are?"
Geralt nodded. "Carriages that can move without horses because there is a mechanism inside them that is fueled by oil or the energy that is like the power coming from lightening bolts."
"A camper van is just a bigger carriage. Originally, they were made to transport things but then people would make an art out of remodeling them and fit small kitchens, bathrooms and beds inside. This way you can spend the entire day or night driving and once you reach a place that you want to stay at, you just park the van and you're good to go. No brushing and feeding horses. No scavenging for food. No looking for firewood or shelter because it's all already there." She paused. "This tells you exactly everything you need to know about my world and its people. We want it all – but we want it in the most convenient way."
"It does sound interesting. Does this mean you never camped outside?"
"I did. I have never used such a van. But I would always sleep in a tent, never directly under the stars as we do now. And you know what? This has become something that I absolutely love. It's so serene, so magical." A dreamy expression flashed across her face.
Geralt was relieved to hear her talk like this. Despite their different backgrounds it often enough turned out that there was an abundance of things that he liked that she appreciated as well. Geralt the witcher had always liked sleeping under the stars, had loved the tranquility of these moments.
"We should be reaching a village tomorrow."
"A real bed then?" Kit's eyes shone. Geralt nodded. "Maybe… Dare I hope? A bath, too?"
"I'm sure that can be arranged."
"What a relieve. I'm starting to feel a little icky. Just how much longer will you be able to stand my smell with your sensible nose?"
He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You always smell nice." She had no distinctive smell other than something that reminded him of warmth and home. He could not help it but it would always conjure up a feeling of security and peace.
"That's not even possible. It must have been, what, three days since that little river bath? My teeth are still chattering just thinking about it."
"I like to believe I warmed you up quite nicely afterwards." He smirked.
She nodded, blushing while thinking about it. "Yes, you did. But still… Bathing in water that's maybe just a little further above the freezing point would be nice for a change."
When the first stars were visible, Kit pulled Geralt into her lap and let her fingers run through his hair while she watched the sky. The fire cracked and popped, its heat pleasantly warming Geralt's face. The smell of burnt wood, fresh air and forest conjured up old memories of his time on the path.
He shuddered, enjoying the pleasant feeling that spread through his body from the gentle touch of Kit's fingers, as always amplified by the energy she emanated. Geralt loved that she showed her affection for him so freely and never made him ask for it, never felt the urge to hide it from anyone, never asked him to hold back when he did the same.
It had made him a little uncomfortable initially when she had started to spoil him with her tender caresses in public, since, in his mind, it was the role of the man to provide this kind of comfort and that it would make him look weak if he were to be on the receiving end of it. The idea that he would have ever placed his head in Yennefer's lap while they were sitting next to a fountain in the middle of the city, seemed laughable to him.
But Kit had talked him out of it quickly: "Men deserve to be treated well, too." She cupped his face. "I know, I know. This world is all about strong men. I understand that my worldview about equality doesn't have as much of a place here – but it is important to me that you trust me on this one. Just because toxic masculinity is the current standard doesn't mean I want to live with it."
It took Geralt a while to wrap his head around the whole matter but in the end, he had relented because he did not have it in him to deny her anything she wished for. And if he was entirely honest, he was too weak to resist anyway. There was an unknown strength in her gentleness that one could not fight.
Now he would often end up in her lap humming happily when she ran her fingers through his hair and over his scalp. These small rituals had established themselves so much faster than he would have ever expected. And whenever she did something unexpected, it was as if the door to her world had been opened up a little more for him.
As the temperature dropped quickly, they soon hid inside the bedroll where Geralt, stripped of his armor, wrapped himself around Kit.
She yawned, shivering at the same time. "This is perfect," she mumbled before she closed her eyes. Geralt looked at the small woman in his arms. He let his fingertips run across her face and through her hair, before he kissed her goodnight. In response, her fingers, always a little cold, slid beneath his shirt and came to rest on his stomach where they caused the familiar, pleasant tingle that he loved so much.
So far their journey had been uneventful and Geralt was grateful that they had not been swept up in someone else's drama as had happened to him so many times in the past. By sticking close to the more well-travelled roads, they had managed to avoid any unpleasantness in the form of monsters or humans that were out to harm them. Now that Geralt thought about it, it might just have been the most uneventful journey he had ever made. But then again it was not much of a surprise. Had he been travelling as a witcher he would have made sure to pass through all the small villages scattered a little off the road to hunt for work. Not having to do this made things a lot easier for him and he was glad for he would have liked to ease Kit into this new world rather than have her confront it head on. Life in Toussaint was fairly sheltered as far as things went. The rest of the continent was likely to be an unwanted reality check.
They reached Glennville in the evening. The small village consisted of some well-kept houses cluttered around the path they had been following. Under normal circumstances a village of this size would not have had a guest house but due to its location, it was a popular resting spot for the royal messengers who passed through here rather frequently.
"My tailbone is killing me! Will you see to getting us a room? I'll make sure the horses are looked after," Kit suggested.
"Don't make me wait too long," he said and grabbed Roach's saddlebag.
"Don't make me sleep outside," she answered, already walking towards the stable.
He shook his head, a smile on his lips, as he entered the tavern. Warmth and stale air hit his face. The first patrons were already eating their dinner, there was talking, laughing and toasting. The atmosphere was relaxed, the smell of food mouth-watering.
But as always, the peace only lasted so long. Quickly more and more people were picking up on the presence of the white-haired man with the curious yellow eyes and the sword on his back. It did not take Geralt long to catch the attention of the innkeeper who was standing behind the bar and whose expression went from annoyed-neutral to annoyed-skeptical. Geralt approached the man, trying to ignore the stares of the people around him.
The innkeeper on the other hand, tried to ignore the witcher and vanished before Geralt could even open his mouth. He only returned several minutes later, his expression clearly stating that he would have rather stayed wherever he had hidden to.
"Evening. Need a room," Geralt hummed, trying to ignore what he knew could quickly turn into a refusal.
"And a bath!" Kit had suddenly popped up by his side and leaned against his arm, yawning. "The food smells delicious!" she added. An audible rumbling of her stomach followed.
For a moment Geralt forgot the main issue at hand. "You just ate an hour ago. How is this even possible?" he asked incredulously.
She shrugged. "I ate an apple. That doesn't count."
The innkeeper, whose name was Boris, just a moment ago fearing the worst at the appearance of the person he clearly recognized as a witcher, was stunned at the insouciance of the young woman who had attached herself to the mutant.
The woman smiled at him while she leaned her head against the monster.
Boris was not sure what to make of the situation. He grabbed a key from beneath the bar and slid it over the counter. He did not want any trouble. Hopefully the witcher would be gone in the morning and never return.
"Room four, bath will take half an hour."
"Wonderful, so we can eat first!"
While Geralt paid for the accommodation, Kit went ahead to choose a table in a booth by the window for them. She happily greeted the men sitting next to them who were slightly bewildered by the uncommonly enthusiastic salutation and just nodded their heads in response.
A moment later Geralt sat himself opposite of her, causing the men to start whispering.
"You're awfully chipper," he remarked, trying to ignore everything else around him.
"I cannot wait for that bath!"
As they were waiting for dinner to be served, Kit started scribbling into her notebook again, all the while entangling her legs with Geralt's beneath the table.
Geralt wondered if she understood what had just happened. The innkeeper clearly had apprehensions against a witcher staying at his place but Kit's presence had him so confused. It was sad and amusing at the same time. Who knew, maybe he could shelter her a little longer from the harsh realities of what it meant to be a witcher. After all, while he had told her about it, she had never had to witness much of the rejection and hate he was facing.
Discontentedly, he noticed how the innkeeper was silently talking to a bar maid, keeping his gaze fixed on Geralt.
Once they had eaten and were halfway to their room, Kit suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.
"Wait, I'd like something to drink for the night. You go ahead and make sure the water doesn't go to waste. I'll be back in a minute." She kissed him quickly before she dashed back to the bar. He smiled to himself. He knew exactly what this was: The last, sudden surge of energy before she was going to fall asleep like a corpse. He would probably have to make sure that she did not drown in the tub.
While he made his way up the stairs, Kit went back to the innkeeper.
"Hi, sorry, would it be possible to get some juice to take upstairs with me?"
Boris nodded but hesitated, nervously looking around, before he said in a quiet voice: "We can get you out."
"Out of what?" Kit cocked her head.
"Your situation," he suggested with a conspiratorial glance.
"Uhm, okay." She wrinkled her forehead, trying to make sense of what the man said. "But what exactly is my situation?"
"The mutant, the witcher. Surely you are not with him on your own accord? I can arrange for you to leave this very moment, have you stay with my sister a few villages over. We'll make sure he loses your trace. You'll be free from his influence," he said earnestly.
And Kit suddenly understood. The fingers of her hand that she had rested on the bar started to tap on the wood. She breathed a few times, while watching her fingers, balling them up into a fist, before she directed her gaze back at the innkeeper. There was a sharpness in it that made Boris shudder.
"I understand." She nodded to herself. "I know that you don't know any better and I appreciate your concern. And because of that, only because of that, I'll explain this to you even though it is none of your business at all. But listen closely and don't interrupt me." Her voice was calm but the innkeeper noticed the anger in it. "This mutant is the best human being I have encountered in my entire life. He saved me. Never asked for anything in return. And I love him for that. And for so much more. He has risked his life countless times for people like you and me, and in return is barely paid enough to keep his armor and his swords in shape. He's lucky if it's enough to get his wounds looked after and to stock up on food and the ingredients he needs for his potions – in order to protect people like us. He does not deserve to be treated with so much disrespect." She breathed again, her hand on the bar visibly shaking. Boris realized that he had committed a grave error. "You've seen the scar in his face, the big one over his eye? He got that because he went the extra mile. He got it as a reward for saving someone's daughter because he broke the curse that was cast on her. He could have just killed her, quick and easy. But he chose to do it the hard way, to break the curse, to return the daughter to her father alive and well. Because he is the person who will do that for someone. Risk his life for their happiness, with barely a reward for it and, certainly, with no appreciation from anyone. You misjudge him. And I'm sure he would forgive you for that because that's who he is. So, I will forgive you too because I understand that your intentions are good. Because I realize that your fear of him is based on rumors and that you have no way of educating yourself on the truth. But do not ever talk about him like that again. Understood?"
Boris was speechless. Nobody had ever spoken to him in this manner. The woman was clearly furious, her gaze ice cold, and yet, she did not raise her voice at him. He was not sure what to make of it but suddenly he was convinced that he had indeed misjudged the situation.
He only nodded, gestured for her to wait a moment and then returned with a jug of juice and a bowl of fruits.
"On the house. My apologies," he mumbled.
"Thank you." When the strange woman left she was all smiles and politeness again.
He had seen many odd things happening in his tavern. But never this. Somehow, and he did not quite understand how, she had made him feel ashamed of himself, had belittled him. If this woman did not fear the mutant, then surely he had no reason to fear him either.
He wanted to be angry at her but instead pondered over her words.
"What happened?" Geralt asked when she entered the room.
"Why do you think anything happened?" she replied when she put the juice and the fruits down on a small table.
"Your heart is beating unusually fast." There was no trace of tiredness in her face anymore.
"Maybe it's simply the excitement about the beautiful man in my room?" she suggested.
Removing his armor always took some time and he was still wearing his pants. Kit walked up to him and let her hand wander over his chest. Her touch made him forget his question. Instead he started tugging at her cape.
"This needs to go," was his assessment of the situation.
"Your wish is my command." She let him pull the cape over her head.
"Better," he declared with a smile before bowing down slightly to kiss her. He could feel her weight against him as he always did when she stood on her toes to meet him. He trailed the soft skin on her arms, her shoulders, her neck with his hands and finally cupped her face before he deepened their kiss. Her lips opened up to him, her tongue as eager to explore as his own. It became harder to breathe when she pressed her body a little closer to his, reminding him once again what was awaiting him. Maybe she isn't so tired after all, he thought.
He left her lips, following the familiar path of her cheek, her jawline, until he reached his favorite spot on her slender neck. He carefully nibbled at the delicate skin, let his tongue wander over it in circles and finally sucked on it, earning him the small moan that he so desired to hear. Geralt worked eagerly to leave a mark – even if it would be gone by the next morning, at least he would get to enjoy it a little.
"Water's getting cold," Kit reminded him, her voice breathy and soft as she clung to him with her eyes closed. She knew as well as him that the temperature of the water was pretty much irrelevant. He would simply heat it up – the by far most useful application there was for his igni as of recently. No, this was merely her way of saying that she was impatient.
He released her, looked at her, cheeks flushed, eyes shining behind hooded lids, their blue a few shades lighter than they usually were. It was her body's way of signaling that she wanted him – not that Geralt would have needed a signal. There was something between them that made them long for the other constantly - in one way or another.
[…]
In order to not have it become three days again, they repeated the act the next morning with a few variations after they had slept through the night so well that not even an earth-quake would have been able to disturb their slumber.
"And there I thought I was only going to be sore at the end of the day from riding the horse. But no, I'll be sore from riding the man first thing in the morning," she commented, still out of breath, after several more instances of furious lovemaking.
"Well, the one good thing is that, if you are already sore, you cannot possibly become more sore after that."
"I'm not sure if that's true but honestly, I don't want to argue with your logic because in any case soreness because of fantastic sex is better than soreness caused through horse-riding."
"She's a keeper!" someone shouted from the room next to them.
"I know!" Geralt shouted back while Kit fell from his lap in a laughing fit.
"We really should make sure that the next place has thicker walls. Or maybe I should learn to be a bit quieter."
Geralt pulled her back onto his lap, wrapping one arm around her back, his face serious all of a sudden. He looked at her. The blue of her eyes contrasted so beautifully with her pink cheeks.
"Don't. You can't take that away from me. Those sounds that you make? They are everything to me. I can't give you all that you need, but when you moan for me, because of me, then at least I know I gave you something." He could not stop the words from spilling from his mouth. His voice was full of sadness.
"Something? What are you even talking about?" Her big blue eyes looked at him visibly confused. She cupped his face to stroke her thumbs across his cheekbones.
Geralt tightened the grip of his arm around her back. "I can never tell what's going on inside your head but it seems you are still attached to your former life and I don't know how to compete with that. I'm afraid you'll resent this life and me because I'm not good enough, because things don't measure up to what you used to have. But I don't know how to do better because you never say anything, you never complain. So," he sighted, "at least let me have those beautiful moans to know that I'm giving you something worthwhile."
"Oh, Geralt," she whispered as her hands caressed his neck. "Please, look at me." For a moment she seemed to be grasping for the right words. "You should know that, just because I draw comparisons and talk about it, my old life doesn't mean nearly as much to me as you do. Even if they offered to send me back, I wouldn't do it, I'd rather stay here with you. You're home now. I have no intention to leave you as long as you'll have me. But I can't shake off my old life either, it's a part of me." His lips opened slightly in surprise as she kissed him. A kiss that he reciprocated with a desperate passion. The small sigh that he pulled from her when he gently started to nibble on her lips reassured him.
"And when I'm not complaining, it means I've got nothing to complain about. My life used to be so grey and boring and it has become infinitely better with you in it." The way she said it, the way she looked at him seemed so sincere that Geralt was not able to doubt it.
"I wish you knew just how badly I want you. Maybe then you'd understand my fears."
Kit shook her head. "I do understand, very well in fact. Whenever I hear one of those songs, I'm wondering just when one of your mysterious sorceresses will come by to rip you out of my arms. It scares me so much, you have no idea," she confessed. "But I never say anything because it feels like I would be blaming you for something that you gave me absolutely no reason at all to believe will actually happen." She paused. "I don't want to share you, I don't want to lose you."
Now it was Geralt who looked at her in utter astonishment. "I had no idea…"
"Well, it looks like we're the same type of stupid. Isn't that reassuring? They weren't kidding after all when they told us we were a perfect match," she chuckled, a hint of desperation behind it.
"I suppose you should know this: I might not remember how I felt when I was with other men back in the day, but those sounds I make… They are all yours. I never did that for them. You own that part of me. And I'll give the rest of me to you, piece by piece, if you just tell me how, if you just tell me what you need me to do to prove it to you." She had a pleading, desperate look in her eyes that simply shattered his fears.
Relieve flooded his whole body.
"Tell me, what do you need me to do?" she repeated. Her hands wandered over his chest, fingertips carefully stroking the hard muscles until she bent forward by arching her back and started to kiss the skin on his neck. Geralt ran his hands along her thighs from her knees to her butt, digging his fingers once again into the soft flesh.
"I have a few ideas," he whispered with a hoarse voice. "One thing we could do. But not now. Something else. Can't tell you what though, wouldn't be right." For now, her disarming honesty was all he needed to feel reassured.
He felt her lips at his earlobe, breathing sharply when she started to suck on the soft skin. "That is awfully vague," she complained.
"Nobody will ever take me away from you," he murmured against her ear, suddenly more concerned with her fears than his own.
He grabbed her and with a flick of his fingers heated up the barely used water from the day before.
Geralt carefully lowered them into the steaming tub, letting Kit rest against his chest. He took the soap and started to wash her hair, trying his best to imitate the tender ways in which she always spoilt him.
"What do I need to do so you won't think someone can take me away?"
"I don't think there is anything you can do. You've done nothing wrong, it's all just in my head. If I sometimes doubt this weird tinder match across universes that's my own problem entirely."
"I know you don't like sharing, but your problems don't belong to you alone anymore. They're mine too." He cautiously pulled her head back to wash off the soap with some water that he had gathered in a small bowl.
"It's you who I don't like sharing. I'm not particularly possessive of my problems."
"And you won't share me. So tell me what I can do. I want to become better at giving you what you need." Words that, he thought, a few years ago would never have left his lips, came easy now. As things did when you wanted to protect what was most valuable to you.
"You've always been good at that."
"Good isn't gonna cut it." He grabbed her chin to make her look at him.
"Don't laugh at me, okay?" Geralt nodded. "You know how I like to do things by myself to prove to everybody that I'm an independent woman and don't need anybody's help?" Geralt smirked. He remembered many occasions when Kit was clearly overwhelmed and where he actively had to talk her into letting him help her because she was convinced that she needed to do certain things by herself. "Maybe… sometimes… just do those things for me. Ignore my protests. Be the strong man that you are, let me be the weak woman I am. Don't listen to my shit and just give me the damsel in distress treatment without talking about it. So I can still feel… not so useless while you do things for me."
"You know, just because you struggle to lift hay bales or other men won't accept that you don't need me to do business with them, doesn't mean you're weak."
"Maybe. But I need time to adjust." She sighted unhappily. "It'll probably take years."
"You take all the time you want. As long as you take it with me."
When the water had cooled, they got dressed and packed their things. For once Geralt did not question the amounts that Kit ate as he knew exactly what had caused her hunger. A devious smile spread across his face.
What Geralt did question though were the things brought to their table when they had ordered merely a simple breakfast. Fresh bread, soft butter, jams, cold cuts, fruits, even a prepared package for their trip. Boris the innkeeper served the traveling couple himself and quickly nodded at Kit, to which she reacted with a smile. What she did not know was that he, too, had heard them through the night and morning. Any doubt he had left about the safety of the stranger had been blown away and, he had to admit to himself, partially been replaced by envy as it had been a while since he had last been able to coax similar sounds of pleasure from his wife. No wonder she said she loved the witcher, he thought.
"What was that about?" Geralt asked, one eyebrow raised to underline his confusion.
"That… was an apology."
"For? Is there anything I should know?"
"Later, okay?"
Kit only filled him in on what had happened the evening prior when they were already on their horses and a mile away from the inn.
"He wanted to save you? And you told him he was wrong for thinking you needed saving from me in those exact words you just used?"
"Yup. But don't be mad at him, okay? He was worried and he apologized right after. He's not a bad man."
Geralt shook his head. "I'm not mad." He sighted. He had gotten so used to seeing himself in a different light thanks to all the nice things this lovely woman had said to him over the past few months, that sometimes he started to believe her even though he knew reality would eventually come crashing down on him.
"I'm not mad," he repeated. "Just annoyed. I wish you didn't have to experience this."
"You know what? I was pretty mad at him. But you told me enough about how people perceive you for me to understand the reasoning behind it. And if in the end I get to be with you, then I'll happily keep lecturing people about how wrong they are to judge you in the first place."
"You're incredible, you know that? I don't think any woman has ever tried to defend my honor," he said earnestly.
"You're welcome." She sighted, blushing slightly. "I wish they could see you the way I do."
"You mean mostly naked?"
"Not quite what I was thinking but then again, it would probably give people something else to talk about," she chuckled.
Dear reader,
try to imagine the following situation: You wake up in a strange new world, prince charming picks you up, you fall in love and just a little while later higher powers tell you that you are perfect for each other. Basically your average Tuesday morning.
That's a happy end, right? Right?
Had you asked me this a few months back, I would have agreed with that. Falling in love and loving someone is exciting. You get a feel for this person that you chose, you learn to read them, learn to predict them to a degree. But you will never truly know what goes on inside their mind. In the end, no matter how long you've been with someone, there is always room for surprise.
If some higher powers, just like in my case, had dropped you in the dirt in your nicest yoga pants for a certain stranger to find you, because they calculated that he is the person who is most compatible to you, who will make you the happiest – do you doubt it? Or do you just go along with it, never even questioning it a little? After all, you have pretty much been guaranteed that this match is perfect.
Maybe you think: Why does she still have doubts? She should have understood that he's the right one for her!
Well, I'll let you in on a secret: The claim of a higher power that something is the way it is will not, in fact, make trust redundant. Being told that the person you are with is ideal for you is one thing. Living that idea is another entirely.
I don't doubt that Geralt is the best man for me in the entire universe. He is everything I could have ever asked for in a man, the best of both worlds. He's strong, and yet gentle enough to give in whenever I need him too. His life has hardened him, but he never shuts me out, never hides his emotions from me. He always treats me like his equal. He gives me the feeling that I'm everything to him and that he needs me to be his everything.
And yet. My doubts are not because of him, they are rooted in me. Rooted in the fear that someone better might take him away from me. Even though we have already established that I AM the best for him, that we are certified guaranteed happiness.
But they don't tell you that the simple claim that we are endgame isn't enough.
It turns out he, too, has doubts, has the same fears. We are oddly matched in this respect. It's strangely reassuring to know that he's struggling too.
And that's okay I guess. The more time passes and the longer he stays with me, the less I will fear. But I will always fear for him. Because, just like you, just like anybody, I will always fear to lose what I love.
Sounds a little negative, huh? It's not that bad. Life would be worse if I didn't have something to lose.
I hope that one day I will re-read these pages and laugh about all of it, all my silly stupid little feelings. And I hope that Geralt will sit next to me when I do that.