Chapter 5
Enwynn had stopped counting the days. It was easier this way – easier to get up in the morning, attend to her duties, follow her routine. Today would be different though, whether she liked it or not. Today would be followed by the longest night of the year – midwinter. Midinvaerne. They would prepare a feast although they didn't have much food to spare. They would sing songs by the fires and tell stories, drink and be merry, if only for one night. They wanted her to tell a story, too and there was no way she could not comply to this. If only she knew, which story to choose. Despite all her hopes the crisp morning air and the soft light of midwinter's dawn did nothing to answer this question.
Hours later Enwynn was still deep in thought, musing over what story she could possibly tell, that would fit the occasion. It was well before noon yet and she was tending to a dwarf, who had badly sprained his ankle a few days ago, when the sudden silence of the village around them, finally hit her. Mere seconds later Aideen, who sometimes helped her with collecting herbs, burst through the door and being completely out of breath managed only two words: "Saskia! Iorveth!"
Her heart started thundering like a flash flood in the mountains, drowning out all other noises that might have followed the elf's outburst. The dwarf, despite being only able to limp and stumble forward, was long out of the room sped up by excitement no doubt, when she finally got a grip on herself and managed to focus her gaze on Aideen. "Lead the way!", she demanded, grabbed her small bundle, and hurried outside close behind the other woman.
Sure enough, Aideen was leading her to the quarters in the upper part of the town that Saskia had lived in before her sudden disappearance. With every step they took the murmur got louder with cheers rising above it, and the crowd got bigger and bigger, making it nearly impossible to navigate through them. There weren't that many people left in Vergen, but it seemed right in this moment, everyone was gathered here, making the long flight of steps impenetrable.
"Make way for the healer!", the familiar voice of Ciaran echoed between the cliffs with cutting force and immediately the mass of bodies parted in front of her. He motioned for her to hurry. Behind him she could just make out two bodies – one supporting the other – staggering into the darkness beyond. Ciaran pressed the wooden door shut behind her but didn't follow.
Enwynn was blinded by the sudden darkness and had to blink a few times to adjust her eyes. In the twilight filtering through the skylights in the wall above her she could finally make out the slender form of Saskia sitting on her bed, with Iorveth busying himself by skilfully removing her heavy plate armour. She had thought herself finally steadied in her resolve after endless days of telling herself over and over again, that she would let him go, but this scene pushed a hot iron poker right through her guts. How could she have lived through so much, and yet be still so naïve when it came to her own heart?
Her musing lasted mere seconds before all the little details her eyes had taken in in the meantime kickstarted her professional instincts. The slight glimmer of sweat on Saskia's forehead, her complexion ever so slightly ashen, her posture bent where it was normally straight and proud, her hands clenched into the fabric of her bedsheets, and finally the small but angrily red wound right in the centre of her sternum. "Get a fire going and boil some water.", Enwynn ordered, and Iorveth, who had just finished freeing Saskia from her armour, obeyed without a word, without so much as looking at her. She knelt down in front of the dragon, and with skilled fingers barely touching went on to check the swollen edges of the injury.
"This wound looks bad, even for you.", she stated matter-of-factly. "How long ago was it inflicted?"
"Right before we left Loc Muinne. A little over a week ago. I slowed us down, although Iorveth managed to fetch a boat. It should be healed by now.", Saskia pressed out between clenched teeth, obviously frustrated with her own weakness, while Enwynn moved to sit down beside her and inspected the exit wound on her back. "You have been under a lot of pressure lately, not to mention Philippa's spell that might have tinkered with your powers. Let's be glad this is merely infected, nothing serious given your resilience. I will prepare a poultice for you and give you some tea to deepen your sleep. Two days of rest and this will be but a memory and a scar."
"Thank you!", Saskia pressed out and a strained smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Enwynn only nodded in response, not trusting her own heart enough to speak other than professionally to this woman. She knew she couldn't blame her but knowing this and acting as such were two very different things right now. Instead, she went to work through her small bundle of ingredients with skilled proficiency. Barely half an hour later she had cleaned the festering wounds, applied her poultices, and put the dragon to sleep in some fresh clothes. The tea had been strong and affected Saskia as quickly as planned.
"I will stay and keep watch over her.", Iorveth whispered solemnly. It was the first time he spoke since his return although she had had the distinct feeling of his eye never leaving her throughout Saskia's treatment. "Of course. Send for me if she needs anything." He only nodded in response, lips pressed together tightly. Leaving the room in normal pace seemed an impossible task. The short distance between her and the door spread infinitely all of a sudden. Somehow, Enwynn managed to close the door behind her softly, so that Saskia's sleep would not be disturbed. Outside the crowd awaited her – or anyone with news of the Virgin for that matter – expectantly.
"Saskia will heal! All she needs is some rest so don't fear to return to your preparations for tonight. What better reason to enjoy Midinvaerne to its fullest than the return of the Virgin of Aedirn?!" Cheers erupted around her and Enwynn couldn't help but wonder if her words had only sounded so hollow for her own ears. When she turned – no longer the focus of attention – a slightly raised eyebrow from Ciaran, who was still guarding the door, was the only indication, that someone else had seen through her façade. But Ciaran had become a friend during those past weeks and knew at least parts of the backstory. She didn't mind him caring for her in this moment but nevertheless she didn't have the strength to stay and explain. Instead, Enwynn turned towards the only place where she felt safe, forcing her legs to steady their momentum only for a little longer. As soon as she was out of sight, she gave up the effort and ran.
Ice was covering the lake and the air around her was glistening with frost. Under any other circumstances she would have been awestruck by the beauty and serenity surrounding her. Today though, Enwynn could barely contain an agonized scream, that would have put each of the residing harpies to shame.
She had promised to let him go. She had to stay true to this! It didn't matter if she broke while doing so! He deserved happiness!
Eventually, her legs refused to carry her weight anymore and she fell down to her knees, breaking through the instable and thin layer of ice on the lake's edge. The freezing water drenched her clothes, but she barely felt any of it. She rather enjoyed the spreading numbness, so very much in accord with her mind.
Night was falling and the smells and sounds of feasting already wavered all throughout Vergen, when Enwynn had finally found the strength to return. Sneaking through the deep shadows on the edges of the many bonfires, she reached her little shelter undisturbed and changed into new clothes that weren't drenched and nearly frozen solid. She still had a story to tell and now at least she knew which. All she needed was a little help from another dimension…
(+++)
It had taken the sight of Kaedweni soldiers scurrying through Vergen to finally make him realize just how stupid he had been. Had he returned just hours later, the city might have already been overrun. Had the words they had exchanged in the barracks been their last, before fate parted their ways forever, he would have been done for. It would have been the end of him. Yet, even as the siege was broken and the dh'oine king had surrendered, fate allowed him no rest. Long had he suspected the sorceress of having some secret agenda, but he would never have thought it possible that Philippa would outright kidnap Saskia to use her as a puppet for her goals. If they were to have any hope of a future, the dragon had to survive, and he had to bring her back. So, he went, following Geralt to Loc Muinne. There was no choice, no time to think or leave messages. He had done what was necessary at that moment. And finally, they had succeeded: he had returned with Saskia to Vergen.
Yet, while he had had more than a week to prepare his words for their reunion, they all but eluded him, when Enwynn followed them into Saskia's quarters, and with her face bearing a professional mask he knew all too well, started treating the dragon's wound. Back were the anger, the disbelief, the hurt, the stubbornness. He couldn't talk to her in this state of mind, couldn't even dare to look her in the eyes. Too real was the danger of pushing her away when he only wanted to pull her into his embrace. No, he would have to reign in his anger and his hurt and wait for the right moment when they weren't clouding his thoughts.
Iorveth had lost track of time watching the steady and quiet rise and fall of Saskia's breathing. The sound of the door behind him opening and closing with the obvious attempt to provoke as little noise as possible brought him back. Turning slightly, he found Ciaran looking him over intently. After a moment his gaze flickered away to Saskia's sleeping form, and then back to him.
"I can continue your watch, commander.", he offered. "You…" But his voice trailed off and Iorveth could nearly hear the unspoken words that his friend kept to himself behind clenched lips. He couldn't blame him. Last time he had told him to stay out of this. He had been a fool! With some effort he rose from the small wooden chair and walked over to Ciaran. Laying a hand softly on his left shoulder he whispered: "You are right. You have been right the last time. I have paid for not following your advice. Please, accept my apology!" The other elf nodded with the tiniest flicker of a knowing smile crossing his lips and stepped away from the door to clear the way.
The cold of the winter night was in stark contrast to the warmth of Saskia's quarters. Where to turn? Would she be at the bonfires taking part in the festivities and the feasting? Near the lake maybe, outside city walls, where none would dare look for her on a night like this? Or maybe huddled in the small camp she had build for herself under the stars, where he had first found her again after all those years?
No! She was a lore keeper. Whether she truly wanted it or not, she would be at the bonfires telling a story of her own. It wasn't difficult to locate the centre of the celebration. Smaller fires had been lit throughout Vergen, but from the cliffs around the tavern dark orange light reverberated, speckled by bright embers floating up into the night sky in a most intricate dance, crackling almost joyfully. The closer he came the deeper became the silence that engulfed him. Carefully he wound his way through the mass of people assembled around the main fire, staring awestruck into the flames.
Very nearly he ended up being hypnotized by the display as well. Enwynn stood close enough to the fire to be burned, but she wasn't. Instead, she had her bare hands outstretched into the ferocious element obviously not noticing any of the heat, and with the slightest movements of her fingers she seemed to be painting figures into the flames. Her eyes were half closed, her face full of bliss…
He didn't even need to hear the words of her story, to recognize it. Wolf, raven, and red kite. Again, and again these three forms appeared in the flames in varying settings. The wolf being fierce and strong, protecting them from every enemy they encountered. The raven being wise, warning the other two of any danger long before it could befall them. The red kite being a skilled hunter, providing food for the three of them. It was their story from endless years ago. Echel, Enwynn and himself, long before the wars. And suddenly his long and well-prepared speech became useless because his heart told him the right words.
(+++)
A chill ran down her neck and spine, but she could not allow herself to lose focus now. Most probably it was nothing. A draft. The promise of snow… She continued unperturbed, eyes fixed on the flames licking around her naked arms without burning them, forming the last line of figures according to the words of her story. When she closed off the connection and had to step away from the fire because the sensation of heat returned almost instantly, deep silence surrounded Enwynn. It took her a few seconds to readjust to reality and to become aware of the mesmerized faces encircling the bonfire, many gaping with mouths open. After a few more seconds a murmur started surging up more and more until cheers erupted. There were so many happy people around her chattering away, that one figure to her left at the back of the crowd stood out beyond measure. Features solemn, lips clenched, an unfaltering, intense glare never leaving her – Iorveth. With the slightest movement of his head, he signalled her to follow, and her feet obeyed long before her head had processed it.
Wordlessly he led her away, out of the depression wherein the tavern was situated, up the stairs, out of earshot and away from prying eyes, away from the bonfires and the feasting and the laughter. "Is something the matter with Saskia? Does she need my help?", Enwynn inquired when she was sure none could overhear them. What other reason could he possibly have to drag her away from the festivities?
Abruptly he stopped at the edge of the cliff above the tavern. "Saskia was sleeping soundly when I left. Ciaran keeps watch over her, for now.", he murmured, and after what sounded disquietingly like a sigh he continued: "I need to talk to you! As I should have done weeks ago…" His voice trailed off. He had his shoulder turned away from her and in the dim light of the bonfires below she could barely make out his profile starring into the night sky.
After what seemed like an eternity Iorveth let out a heavy breath and resumed speaking. By then her heart was beating madly, fearing what was to follow.
„When I think of Saskia, I feel awe, respect, inspiration… and hope." The lump in her stomach twisted and tightened, dreading the next words that would leave his lips but knowing she couldn't escape them now. This battle was hers to fight. She owed him that. Enwynn felt a shot of pain and fear cross over her features and was glad he still had his blind side turned to her so he wouldn't see. A fraction of a second later she regained control, just in time when Iorveth turned to face her directly. She mustn't show her hurt. She mustn't show her breaking. She mustn't… All she wanted was for him to find happiness again, to come to peace with his demons no matter where or with whom. Letting him see her despair might only alter whatever decision he had reached. That was not an option! She clenched her thighs as hard as her maimed and scarred fingers allowed, the shots of pain helping her to keep her face free of any unwanted emotion. Her expression was steady and calm when Iorveth's eye found hers.
"When I think of you… " His voice trailed off and Enwynn found it nearly unbearable to keep her emotions from showing. Suddenly, with two long strides Iorveth closed the distance between them, unclenched her fingers from her legs by taking her bare hands into his and lowered his brow to hers. Enwynn's breath caught in her lungs. His voice was but a soft whisper when he finally continued: "When I think of you, I feel the scent of spring rain flooding my senses with life, I feel sunlight glistening through the lush green canopy of the forest in early summer warming my face with the gentlest of touches, I think of the rich flavours of wild berries in autumn and their juice staining your lips in the most perfect shade of crimson, I feel the biting frost of a winter night telling me I'm alive. You are my home, Enwynn. You will always be, no matter what perils life tries to test us with. So as long as you will have me, I will be yours."
She couldn't speak. Her heart was hammering madly in her chest, her head was spinning in freefall, and so Enwynn did the only thing she felt capable of in this moment. She closed the small distance still separating them and caught his lips in a long overdue kiss, basking in the sensation of the tinniest smile fluttering over his lips and marvelling at the warmth spreading from her core throughout her body.
In this embrace no demon would ever have any power over them.
[Note: This was one serious case of writer's block (and lack of time, for that matter) that befell this story. However, it is finished now, and I'm glad about it. It just felt wrong to have this stuffed away in the drawer, while the story outline was all done and ready in my head. I really wanted those two to have their Happy End, at least for the time being. Since Iorveth was cut out of The Witcher 3, I made it my own little head canon that they eventually left Vergen and wandered off into even wilder parts of the continent, to be free from humans and their politics for as long as possible. Thanks again for bearing with me! I hope you enjoyed this little dabble!]