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When Geralt came into the kitchen, he caught the tail of Zoltan's praise to the deer Kain had brought.
The said deer was on the table, its bloodied belly empty - the boy knew how to do it.
"Hey, Geralt, wanna help me skin 'er?" Zoltan held out a knife to him, smiling.
"Sure." He took the knife and stepped toward the carcass. He threw a gander at Kain. "You hungry?"
"No, we've had our breakfast in the woods."
Geralt nodded and began to cut under the deer's skin, slowly peeling it off the meat.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Kain walk away.
"Lassie all right?" Zoltan asked.
Geralt nodded again. "She is. Just a bit tired and worried about Eredin."
"Aye... Like we all are. Know when we leavin yet?"
"I've a feeling a week here would be enough."
Avallac'h had taken it upon himself to teach Ciri something similar to the Witcher signs, mostly focusing on the element of air and fire. Or as she knew them – Igni and Aard.
She already knew she could not make use of Witcher signs. Ciri had attempted it enough as a child to be aware of her failure in that particular area. But using her own magic rather than the way of the Witchers had made a big improvement. It was with a great deal of excitement she watched as flames erupted from her palms, engulfing the shadow-men Avallac'h had summoned as imaginary enemies. It felt warm but did not hurt. Nor did it hurt the shadow-men but that was beside the point.
During the hours they practiced, she had managed to go from producing a few quick bursts of fire to a steady stream of flames, able to sustain it for longer than she ever had before.
Avallac'h was pleased. "Very good, Zireael. We will continue with the element of air after you have had your supper. A light supper," he specified as they made their way towards the keep, Ciri a little out of breath and sweaty, the Elf looking as though he had just had beauty treatments. Ciri paused outside the keep to splash her face with water from one of the barrels. then headed inside.
Meat was cooking in the kitchen. Ciri could smell as much as she entered the keep. Zoltan, Geralt, and Eskel were keeping an eye on it while chatting, making sure it did not burn over the fire. Kain was nowhere to be seen. Had he not returned to the keep after all?
"Have you seen Kain?" she asked the three, much to Avallac'h's annoyance.
"He headed out a few hours ago, lassie," Zoltan responded.
She turned on her heel and went for the door, ignoring Avallac'h's call of her name.
She couldn't see him anywhere inside the keep walls, so she took off running towards the main gate, stopping there to assess that strange magnetic bond that seemed to tether her to him.
He was far away. Somewhere in the mountains again, she supposed. He seemed to like it up in the hights. Like a cat.
She closed her eyes and thought of him. Take me to Kain.
Ciri disappeared in a flash of green and reappeared somewhere up in the forest-clad mountains a second later. Still, he was nowhere in sight.
This did not discourage her, however. Her power could transport her to the people she sought. But rarely straight to them. It was never as easy as that. But he was close by now. She could feel that.
"Kain?" she called, watching as a flock of birds startled and flew from the treetops.
Griffin pricked his ears looking sharply into the forest before her voice carried to them. Griffin looked to Kain and croaked. As if stating it was the boy's problem to deal with. Kain picked himself up from the forest floor where he had been sitting against a tree, and jogged toward the voice. Griffin trotted after him.
"You're jumping again?" he asked, coming from behind the shrubs, when she came into view.
"Like a bunny," she said, eyeing him curiously as he appeared out of the nearest bush. "Are you alright? Not a fan of the indoor-living still?"
He gave an amused hem, a smile playing over his mouth for a moment. "You expected me to get that habit at once? I haven't lived indoors since the School trainings. Why start now?"
"I didn't," she admitted. "Doesn't mean I won't come check on you to make sure you are alright."
"Why wouldn't I be? I'm not utterly alone here."
"Just assuming someone is alright because you haven't seen anything to hint otherwise is lazy," she said with a small quirk of her lips. "Besides, I meant more on a mental level than physical. Do you regret staying?"
He leaned against the nearest tree, folding his arms. "I don't make any decisions I would regret. Regretting anything you've done is harmful to you. I don't regret anything."
Ciri blinked; clearly they were different there. She regretted so many of decisions. "Right… Are you not coming back for supper?"
"We've had our supper about an hour ago," he said, and waved a hand behind him indicating the griffin that was wandering around sniffing the ground for the rabbit holes. "You should go eat, though. Those trainings will drain you if you don't eat."
"They probably will," she mused.
But I will be sad if you are not with me.
She didn't say this out loud. It would be inappropriate and she did not want to guilt him into coming back to the keep with her when he clearly preferred to be out here.
"You won't leave for good without telling me, will you?" she asked, brow pinched in visible concern.
Kain studied her with interest, narrowing his eyes a bit as if trying to see the unseen or hidden inscription on her forehead.
"Why do you feel lonely among them? They're like your family."
"I don't feel lonely. There's just… pieces missing. One of those pieces is you. I feel…" She sighed, averting her gaze as she pondered how to put it in words. It was hard. "When you're with me, when I feel you close by, I feel satisfied. Completed."
A faint surprise stroked through his features. "What about Geralt? He's not enough?"
"It's not about enough. The fact I am drawn to you, does not lessen what I feel for Geralt. But the two feelings, though similar in their core, are also different.
"Geralt is not my friend. He will never be my friend. He is my father. My mentor and protector. And he will never see me as his true equal, because he raised me. He knew me as a child. Loved me as a child.
"And you, you are now. Different. In a way I don't quite understand yet, but want to discover." She watched him curiously again. "Does that frighten you?"
Kain contemplated it, watching her with a hint of wonder.
"No, it doesn't. Though I don't get how Geralt can't be your friend along with mentor, father and someone who raised you. I think he deems himself your friend. He'd be disappointed to know you don't view him as yours."
"My friends all die," she said bluntly. "Geralt is not going to die."
A laugh escaped him; he raised an eyebrow, "And you're expecting me to die, then?"
"Are you my friend?" she asked, eyeing him cunningly, for he had never admitted anything of the like before.
"It seemed to me you were implying that."
"It is what I tell people when they ask. And yet I feel the description does not justify how I feel. I do not know how to put that feeling into words in a way that makes sense. Like Geralt, you are more." She crossed her arms over her chest, cheeks flushing a faint pink. "The people back at the keep – Yennefer, Triss, even Eskel – they think I am in love. Or in lust. That is the impression people get when I try to explain."
Kain squinted inquisitively, somewhat entertained. "I wonder what kind of explanation you offered to them. But given how they're missing so much about what you've been through, it's their attempt to color you normal - like they would assume you should feel."
"Is that the way with all women my age? If we take an interest in a man it must be love?" It was a genuine question.
"I'm not an expert - the only women my age that I was spending time with were at the School, and lust was the only thing they felt for men. Or women."
She pondered that a moment before looking at him again. "Have you ever been in love?"
"I don't think so."
"I don't think I have either. We would probably know."
Kain shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. I never thought about it. My goal was to never get attached to anyone, and musing over what the opposite of that felt like never seemed like a good topic for meditation."
"Why was that a goal?" she asked. "A rule of the lone wolf? Erm… cat?"
He paused, pondering. "Something like that. I was going to be a Witcher. Witchers don't have mates or feelings. They exist with a sole purpose and there is nothing else for them to expect from life."
"Geralt is not like that. He has feelings. And a mate. Sometimes." She couldn't keep up with him and Yennefer. "I suppose the old Witchers thought feelings got in the way of the work."
"My School." He sighed. "It had flaws. The elders decided to renew the mutagen formulas at some point. It didn't work the same way on everyone: some became psychotic and some - void of any emotion. They went out into the world and spat on the code, doing whatever they felt like. Some became hired assassins, some created bands.
The Wolf School was never like that. Their emotional responses are not distorted as the Cats'.
"We were taught to kill the feelings and be the perfect weapons for successful kills."
She tilted her head, observing him. "But you weren't given the mutations. You are not a cold, emotionless killer."
He smiled meekly; it was more like a weak reflex that disappeared as quickly. "I'm not. And yet I killed one of my peers for a creature. And I'd do it again. What does it make me? Mutagens or none."
"Someone who is willing to protect the innocent, no matter the consequences. Standing up for those who do not have a voice of their own. That is a virtue, Kain."
He looked down, shook his head once slowly. "He never wronged me in any way. He trusted me. We've finished many contracts together. And then I killed him because I chose another life over his. It will never be right. It's just what it is: one of the two initially wrong choices."
"I can't judge you for what you've done," she said softly. "Nor would I ever. I have killed people too. People who did not necessarily need to die. I'm not even sure they deserved it."
"I guess we're the harshest judges of our own deeds. It's all right. It means we learn from them."
"One can only hope," she whispered, shaking the melancholy before looking up at him again. "Speaking of killing… Geralt and I will be leaving soon. We're going to Velen, to kill Imlerith, one of Eredin's generals. He will be on his own and separated from the rest of The Hunt. If you want to join us, you will be very welcome.
"However, I must ask you not to tell anyone. This is between you, me, and Geralt only."
Kain chuckled. "Who would you expect me to tell? Griffin?"
"You do stop by the keep every now and then, don't you?" She smiled, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes, to give the hares or deer to Zoltan. I barely talk to anyone."
"You make it out without engaging in a conversation with Zoltan?" She tilted her head. "You are talented."
"I'm not particularly interesting to him. He's always busy and talks business."
"So… will you come?"
"Who is that Imlerith?"
"He is the one who… had Vesemir by the throat. The one who beat him," she said solemnly.
Kain remembered. He broke the bastard's arm. And it didn't save Vesemir.
He nodded. "Fine. If you want me to come, I will. When is it?"
Ciri felt a thrill of gratitude and excitement at that. "The Sabbath is in a week, so I assume we will leave tomorrow or the day after. It will take some time to travel to Velen on horseback. Might take you less though, if you are flying."
"Even on horseback, it doesn't take a week. About four days, I would think."
She shrugged. "We have one chance to catch Imlerith off guard. I'd rather we get there early, than arrive late and miss him."
"You're noticeable. People noticing you in the area won't help with the element of surprise."
"We're noticeable," she amended, because he stood out as sorely as she did. Geralt, too. "I just don't want to risk him slipping away."
"He wouldn't miss that if he intends to be there. And you won't be late if you give the journey four days."
"I shall see what Geralt has to say." Ciri pointed Kain's way, partially playful. "If this decision makes me late, I will kick your pretty behind."
He smirked. "That's ambitious of you."
"It's good to have goals," she grinned. "So you are not coming back with me for the evening?"
"Why? They're not at ease with me and I'm not at home with them. It's best as it is."
"I was asking for purely selfish reasons," she admitted, moving to gently sweep his hair from his forehead with two fingers before she could catch herself. "And if you're talking about Avallac'h, he is like that with everyone."
"It's not just him. None of them know me, and seasoned warriors like Geralt and Zoltan are always cautious around new people. So am I."
"As am I. Usually." She eyed him. "You won't ever get to know each other if you never meet."
"The question is why should we know each other?"
Ciri held up her hands in casual defense, taking that question as a clear reluctance to indulge her this time. "Alright. I won't push you."
He sighed, feeling a tad uncomfortable. "None of us are looking to make friends, and having fought together one time doesn't always forge friendship or a desire for it.
"Geralt has Zoltan and you. Zoltan has Geralt and you. Your Elf doesn't seem to need anyone at all. So it's all settled as it is."
Ciri smiled a little, because he had certainly thought this through more than he wanted to let on. "You don't feel welcome," she wagered. "To be honest, I feel the same way a lot of the time. It's been many years since I've been with them. And it's… hard to return to that effortless community we once had. I have changed. And they have too, I am certain.
"But Kain, white kitten," this said purely to needle him, "you are welcome. You are wanted. Very much so. I crave your company always. And though you may prefer solitude, we are all fighting the same war now. It is not a bad thing to get to know them. It is not a bad thing to have people you can count on. "
Kain barely restrained the wince at the way she insisted to nickname him. One thing was the dwarf - whose 'kittens' didn't annoy, and then there was Ciri. Something different.
"In my life counting on anyone is a weakness. I was the only one I could ever count on. I don't see it changing. Nor that it should."
"Then I don't know how to convince you otherwise," she said simply, lips still curved in a slight smile.
"You shouldn't bother convincing me of anything, Ciri. You should go join your family for supper because they certainly don't understand why you prefer my company over theirs. They have been with you from the start. I haven't."
"I have to choose one or the other, do I?" she asked, curious to know what he thought of this. "You think because I have people I love, people who care about me, I am not allowed to form relationship with new people?"
"It's not about what I think – it's more about what they think. You said it yourself that they don't understand your relationship with me and you can't explain. Not even to yourself."
"Right." But it was about what he thought. He was the one trying to put space between them, he was the one trying to impress upon her "her people" would not approve. They questioned it, sure. But they had not hinted that she should stay away from him. Not since the battle.
Was it he then that felt uncomfortable in her presence? Had she forced herself onto him without even realizing? That was a horrifying thought.
She nodded. "Yes. I'll go."
She turned and did just that.
Kain heaved a long sigh, leaned his head back against the tree trunk, breathing, "Dammit…"
Griffin came up and nudged him in the shoulder with his beak. Kain reached behind to stroke his neck, feeling uneasy. He couldn't shake it, that stupid awkward feeling of either guilt or longing. He couldn't quite tell. Whenever he found his footing and set his mind straight, she came sweeping in and shuffled his cards.
It was never a good idea for him to get close to anyone. Why should it change now? Why would he suddenly want to have other people to count on? It meant he would stay, and ever since the School Kain had been avoiding the very human urge to belong. He was afraid to want it. He was afraid of how she was trying to instill it in him.
Her ashen hair almost disappeared from sight among the trees as she was walking away.
He detached from the tree and went in the opposite direction with Griffin in tow. Back to his cave and solitude.
The only way of life he ever belonged to.
Ciri appeared back at the keep within the next few minutes. It had taken her a little time to remember she did not have to walk the entire way back.
It was warm and cozy inside and dinner seemed to be just about ready. She removed her cloak and draped it over a stack of crates nearby, taking a seat at the table near the fire where she could rub some warmth back into her fingers.
Zoltan, Eskel and Geralt exchanged glances when she walked in looking gloomy, but managed to keep their conversation going to not make her feel awkward and exposed.
Geralt felt it in his gut that something had happened she didn't quite like. She wasn't good at hiding her frustrations.
"There ye go, lassie," Zoltan said putting a bowl of steaming stew in front of her. "Dig in, the meat's almost ready. Ye gonna swallow yer tongue, ye just wait." He pushed the bread toward her, then went back to the fire where the meat was cooking. He turned it slowly, making sure all sides were done evenly.
"Thank you, Zoltan," she managed to murmur, though her thoughts were miles away from food. She absentmindedly stirred the stew with her spoon, her gaze on the fire.
Ciri didn't understand. If Kain had no interest in her company, why had he agreed to stay in the first place? Was it guilt from what had happened to Vesemir? Pity?
Was that the same reason he had agreed to come to Velen?
Could she have been so utterly wrong? Had she read him so poorly she'd mistaken pity for something more?
If that was the truth, it hurt. It hurt a whole lot.
There was something seriously troubling her, and a part of Geralt felt like blaming Kain.
What could he have possibly done or said to her that made her lose her appetite and any enthusiasm at all? Did he refuse to come back with her, and she was upset over that? Or was there something more serious? Did he reject her when she tried to get closer?
The Witcher winced subtly, hiding his face behind the mug as he sipped his mead.
"Finally ready!" Zoltan said, laughing joyfully as he and Eskel pulled the meat from the fire. Zoltan began to cut the slices off the fried pieces, and Eskel held the plates. The first filled plate went to Ciri, accompanied by a mug of mead, then it was Geralt's turn, and finally Zoltan's and Eskel's.
"To the kitten-lad's awesome hunting skills," Zoltan said raising his mug when he settled at the table. "This kitchen hasn't smelled so nicely in a long time, I'm sure."
They drank and dug in, forks and knifes clanging.
Ciri gave a tight-lipped smile when Zoltan raised a toast to Kain's honor.
Right; they didn't like him at all.
She drank deeply from her mug and finally, once the conversation started to pick up around the table, she managed to eat. It was mostly Eskel and Zoltan doing the talking. She could feel Geralt watching her even if he tried to be subtle about it.
"Did Lambert leave with Keira?" she asked suddenly, the thought striking her just then. She could not remember whether someone had told her or not.
"Yes," Geralt said. "She needed a Witcher's help with something, and he agreed because he wanted to thank her for helping us."
"He obviously liked her a little too much," Eskel snickered, chewing on his meat. "Not that I blame him. He needed to lighten up a little. She might teach him some manners. No one else could."
Zoltan laughed. "Aye, right, that'd be the day. Think he calls ye for weddin?"
Eskel chuckled and drank, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Smiling, Geralt shook his head subtly and sent a forkful of meat into his mouth.
"Do we trust her?" Ciri stabbed the venison on her plate with her knife, eating it like that. Yennefer would have walloped her had she been here. "She's part of The Lodge."
Geralt said, "I wouldn't fully trust her, but why do you ask? Think Lambert would sell something out? There's nothing he can tell her she doesn't know."
"Why ye worried, Ciri?" Zoltan asked. "Somethin in particular?"
Ciri shrugged, keeping her eyes on her plate. "Just making sure. Yennefer and Triss aside, I don't trust any of them. Power-hungry bitches."
"None of us do, lassie," Zoltan said.
Geralt regarded Ciri, considering her. "Why you're saying it now? Something happened to make you think of them?"
"No," she said simply, trying to fill that sudden emptiness inside by stuffing her face. She'd already drained her mug of mead. Avallac'h would be furious.
Zoltan refilled Ciri's mug as soon as he noticed she took her last gulp, then did his own. His meat was disappearing as fast as Eskel's, and soon enough they went to cut more pieces. Once done with their plates, they added more to Geralt's and Ciri's.
Ciri remained silent for the rest of the meal and it felt as though her presence was putting a damper on the men's conversation. As though they couldn't truly speak freely while she was here. Or was that her being paranoid?
When everyone had finished eating, she stood and gathered the empty plates, brushing aside Zoltan's attempts at making her sit back down with a smile. "My turn to do the washing up," she said and headed out to the water barrels they made use of for such purposes.
Zoltan peered at Geralt with a question; the Witcher got up, took one of the deep bowls, and followed Ciri outside.
"I haven't done any washing for a while, either," he said when she turned to him, her eyebrows raised. "I'll pour the water and you wash." He brandished the bowl, then dipped it in the water barrel.
She nodded, reaching for the rag she'd draped over her shoulder to rub the plates clean.
She was still silent, not much in a talking mood until another idea struck her. "When are we leaving? Sooner rather than later, yes?"
He considered her with a frown, pouring water over the dish she was washing.
"Ciri, what is eating you? What happened?"
She hated that he could read her so easily. Especially in this case, which would most likely be considered "silly girly whining" to the Witchers who were not used to such. "It hurts when you try to make a connection, only to find that the other person does not want it."
It's what I thought, then.
He frowned deeper, hurt for her and on her behalf, and yet… it was not enough.
"Why would you think so?"
"He does not want me near. Not since the battle. He urges me to go," she said coldly, setting one plate aside to get to the next. "I don't know what I did. Except… I am not a good person to get involved with. Death follows me. Perhaps he is just being smart."
"Urges you to go?" Confused, Geralt took more water from the barrel and poured onto her other plate. "How exactly did that happen? Maybe you misunderstood something. He's not the most social type, he's used to being alone and in hiding. Habits die very hard. Habits of years die even harder."
"When someone tells you to go, I feel the meaning is very clear," she murmured. "It was stupid. Thinking I could have… something with him. He told me he doesn't like the company of people. Don't know why I thought myself the exception."
"Ciri…" Geralt sighed, seeking the right words as he scooped more water. "Sometimes things people say don't really come out the way they intend it. You're right, he doesn't like the company of people – or, rather, he's used to be cautious to never get close to people. And now he's merely uncomfortable and doesn't really know what to do with it. His instincts tell him to run, but then there's you, and he somehow fights his habits because you asked.
"If it were the way you think now – he wouldn't have stayed because you asked. He'd be gone after the trial. He did stay for you. There's nothing else here for him. Just you."
He didn't like to say that – it was the hardest thing ever to trust anyone around Ciri, be it even Gwyncath. But Geralt couldn't stand her pain over this. He could absolutely not stand any pain in her ever again.
"Or he stayed because he misses his Witcher past," she said, blowing her hair out of her face with a puff of air. "And he knows even if he ran, I'd find him should I want to. I find him even when I don't want to."
"You're being paranoid now," he said, pouring over her hands while she wiped the dish. "It's hardly you that's the reason. He might be thinking of something else entirely that troubles him, and you don't know about it, so you take it personally."
He drew more water and prepared to help her with the final plate.
"I don't think he misses his past at all," he murmured, recalling Kain's face when he made the boy tell him about Brokilon.
"And how do you know his feelings so well?" she asked. "You said you barely knew him before."
Geralt tightened his jaw, conflicted and hating this pickle she put him in.
"We… talked a bit. The other day. I asked about Brokilon, and he wasn't happy to recollect any of it."
Ciri eyed him curiously. "What happened in Brokilon?"
"Neverending war with people for something he had nothing to do with, and no closeness to anyone – dryads have no warmth for any actual relationship with anyone who isn't them. He wasn't. And he had to live in it for six years. After the Witcher School, it reinforced his habit of being closed. When you live like that most your life, you don't really know how to come out of it. I know it. I was lucky to have a few people to call friends. I could've been like him, too, if not for Dandelion and Zoltan and Triss… and you."
Kain had told her about that, in part. Mostly the wars. But she didn't know much about the dryads and their culture. Though she remembered from her one and only meeting with them, that they were not very warm creatures.
"I know such things can't fade overnight. Believe me, I know. But I don't know how to approach him when it feels as though he wants me gone.
"If I had hated him I would have invaded his space simply to make him angry. But I don't want to make him angry. I don't want to hurt him or make him uncomfortable. And so… I do not know what to do at all."
"If you leave him be, he'll be as he is," Geralt reasoned, and considered her for a few seconds. "What do you want, Ciri? Before you know what you want, you won't be able to know what to do."
Ciri shifted my weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. "I… I just want him near."
The ever persisting question Why that she never truly answered to him – not in terms he would have understood – nudged and poked and stabbed him again. Geralt pressed his lips together to not spill it; he knew she wouldn't answer.
She didn't know.
And he was afraid that what he knew was the real deal.
This whole ordeal rang so painfully familiar inside his heart that it almost made him gnash his teeth in frustration and inability to keep her from falling deeper into it. Geralt couldn't put his finger on how this anxiety came to be, but it was there screaming like a spooked siren.
He took a deep breath, rinsing the bowl, then peered at her, making himself smile a little for her sake.
"How do you tame a wild animal that's been hurt by people before? That's what you do."
Ciri contemplated that a moment. "And what if you're a wounded animal, too?" she asked. "Wounded in a different way perhaps, but equally… disturbed."
She sniffled a little, almost imperceptibly as she wiped the dishes.
"After Kaer Morhen, he is one of the very few men I have met who does not look at me with greed, hatred, or lust in his eyes. Sometimes all of them combined. This world and others. He has not harmed me or taken advantage of my vulnerabilities. He has not tried to make profit of my life. I have slept beside him for several nights and never once did I wake to find him atop me, holding me down and removing my clothing. Never once did he think it was his right to touch me. That is so rare I can only remember one other who did not treat me like a piece of property.
"I know that if I were ever to lay with him it would be because I wanted to, not because he took my choices away. A part of me had started to believe something like that would never be possible."
The reasoning she summoned was the closest she had gotten to explaining her feelings thus far. Geralt appreciated that she could find the words, but those words stirred some deep, stinging ache in his soul. His heart went out to her, to how she must have felt for years. It broke his heart to think about it, so he tried to store it next to Bonhart story to not do this in front of her.
He couldn't.
It was a bit eerie, too, how their inner scars coincided. There was something in it that Geralt no longer felt able to push away and try to ignore. Ciri wasn't going to be happy if this stayed snapped broken like it threatened to become now. She failed to understand because she didn't know, and Kain wouldn't share.
He wouldn't do to her what had been done to him one way or another. And however low Geralt was on tolerance for anyone he didn't really know around Ciri, he had to admit to himself here that Gwyncath was the safest one yet.
It was a strange thought. An awkward and uncomfortable discovery.
But it was there now, all the same.
Geralt put the bowl down on the stack of plates she had washed and took her by the shoulders, drawing her closer for a kiss to her cheek.
"I know how you feel, Ciri. Trust me, I do know. He doesn't. While you're open to discover that there can be something you didn't think possible, he's not. And no one else can let him feel that way if you decide to let him be. There is absolutely nothing to bind him even a little to the world you live in. To any of who you call family. You let him go – you lose him. So you will have to choose what you will or won't do."
He embraced her for a short but sweet moment, then took the plates and went back inside.
Ciri did not know what was more surprising — the fact that Geralt was encouraging her to reach out to Kain, or that now she had his blessing to do so she felt even more scared.
It seemed she would have to risk an awful lot. Put her metaphorical heart out there and accept that Kain might crush it should she tread wrongly.
She remained outside as Geralt retreated, wiping her wet cheeks with the sleeves of her shirt. It had started to become dark. And when she sensed, almost on instinct, that Avallac'h was seeking her, she disappeared.
She landed exactly where she and Kain had parted earlier and slowly, tentatively made her way through the brush towards his cave. She knew there had to be one.
But a cave was not what she found. Following her instincts had led her to one of the lakes. She recognized it as one of the places where Lambert had sometimes taken her fishing.
Kain was there. As was the Griffin. The former was sitting on a rock, eyeing the still water in front of him.
She hesitated, torn between walking up beside him and simply running away.
She didn't run.
She sidled up beside him, arms folded over her chest as if to hold herself together, her gaze firmly on the lake. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to… make you understand how I feel. How to connect. But I am trying."
Kain was silent for a long while, unable to move or think of what to say to that. What he felt was fear of what it could be and how bad it would sting in the end. There was always an end. It doesn't hurt to lose what you don't have. It was where he intended to stay. But she wouldn't let him. And he only had two options: indulge or hurt.
Two bad choices.
It seemed to be the curse of his life: to always choose between two evils.
Hurt her and be one of the hundreds that had already put a scar on the girl who didn't deserve any of it. Only this one would be the one she might never heal.
He didn't even know how he was certain of it, but felt it was true.
"My strongest connection was to my mother," he said in a quiet voice that sounded alien to him. "But I can never be with her. It's a loss that never heals.
"Other connections I thought I had ended, too. It never stays. Maybe it never can stay. Maybe everything in this world ends eventually, and then your own self is all you can count on being there for you. Nothing else. No one else."
Ciri turned to watch him, sympathetic to his fear and pain but in this case unwilling to let it swallow her whole the same way it was him. "Is that what you really think? Or would it just be easier not to risk anything at all?"
"It's what I know, what has been the case for me. And yes, it's easier to be alone, for everything eventually comes to this."
"That will never change unless you try," she ventured cautiously, leaning against the boulder he was sitting on to regard him. "Why did you stay to fight The Hunt? Why did you agree to come to Velen?"
"Because my instinct told me it was the right thing to do. I trust that the world will always place me where I need to be. It's been like that all my life."
She nodded slowly "And your instincts about me tell you to stay away?"
He frowned trying to search himself. "I don't know. I just know that getting attached brings pain in the end. Pain that could be avoided."
"And the prospect of being alone for the rest of your life, does it bring you happiness?"
"It's what always has been. I don't know anything else."
"That's not true – you lived with the druids for a while, you said so yourself. At the Witcher School. And in Brokilon. You weren't entirely alone, you could not have been."
"Druids were my family until I was five. I had my mother with me until I was five. She wasn't always there, but she visited. After she took me to the School, I haven't seen her. She told me it was safer for both of us to be apart. All I had of her since then were dreams. Rare dreams.
"At the School everybody was on their own, essentially. Just like in Brokilon - I was on my own. I've been alone for twenty years. Five years of belonging to a family doesn't beat it."
"Why was it safer for you to be apart from your mother?" Ciri frowned. "Did you ever find out? Did she fear the persecution of mages?"
"She never explained. She said I had to trust her. That my power couldn't get in the wrong hands. That it belonged to this world and no other."
"To this world?" she asked. "She feared someone would try to take your power for themselves?" Her smile was void of humor. "Sounds terribly familiar."
"I don't understand it any more than I did at five."
"Seems to me your mother knew you were special. Important. Just as I've known from the moment we met."
"Being special is a curse, then."
"Of course, it is. People imagine it is some sort of magical, wonderful thing to stand out, to be able to do things others can't. That is rarely the way it truly is."
"A curse means a curse to anyone who is around. I don't want it for anyone. Especially you when you have your plate full with pain as it is."
"And I do not wish that on you either," she said, averting her gaze. "And yet I am here. Must be the selfishness in me."
"I stayed because you wanted me to. Because I felt I had to help."
Ciri smiled a little, looking to meet his gaze. "I appreciate that. But you do not owe me anything, Kain. It was never my intention to make you feel trapped. I was just scared, am scared, of the potential harm that could befall you if we are apart. And I would never even know." She shifted a little beside him, folding her arms across her chest again. "Like I said – selfish."
"I don't have a habit of walking into traps. I'm here because I said yes and meant it."
He'd said yes and meant it, and still he wanted to put distance between them. Two very conflicting statements in her opinion. She was silent, not sure what to say about that, looking to the beautiful darkening sky up above them.
He turned his eyes away from the water and studied her for a bit.
"What do you really want?"
"That is a hard question to answer," she said silently after a while of contemplation. "The very same question Geralt asked me less than an hour ago. Long term? I don't know. Right now? You. Beside me. Close to me. To hear your voice. Feel your presence. Your scent. It is some sort of primal need, I suppose. Not one that sounds terribly eloquent when put in words."
He watched her in silent contemplation.
It had to do with her unwilling detachment from Geralt and the team and her need for some comfort she couldn't find among them. Kain couldn't understand why she wouldn't try to restore her connection with Geralt, but asking about it would make her feel pushed away again.
"I don't want to live at the keep. That part of my life is over."
"I think it's over for all of us. It will be left empty in a few days time. Abandoned," she said, staring out at the water.
"Your room is still there. You need your sleep in your bed. And in the morning your elf is going to look for you there. Geralt is also there."
"I meant in the long run. And I would never make you stay at the keep if you didn't want it."
"And I mean now. If you came to bring me with you back to the keep for the night, it won't happen."
"I didn't. I came to talk."
He regarded her with mild amusement. "Talk."
She turned to meet his gaze. "We have. We are."
He sighed and looked up at the sky where the bright dusk colors had begun to turn darker. The first few stars were already twinkling furtively among the thin shreds of clouds.
The sigh didn't go amiss. My lips quirked in amusement. "You're uncomfortable?"
"I don't know... I told you before I'm out of habit of being that close to anyone human. It merely feels... unusual."
"Do you want me to leave?"
He peered at her, conflicted. "A part of me I haven't managed to kill yet doesn't want you to leave. And that part scares me, because no attachment ends well for me."
She smiled a little because even though he wanted to not want her, he still did. It was nice to get confirmation that whatever she was feeling wasn't entirely one-sided. And that she wasn't crazy. "Well, if you are coming to Velen, you will have to put that panic on hold for a while."
He averted his eyes to the lake surface. "It's not panic."
"But it is fear."
He set his jaw. "If you say so."
"You said so, just a moment ago. That part scares me." She looked at him and saw the tension in his face, deciding it might be best to change the topic. "How is Griffin doing? Does he like these mountains alright?"
"The prospects of any relationships scare me," he admitted, ignoring the griffin question. "I'm not good at it. Relationship makes you afraid for someone else's life, and the loss cripples you. All you need is a little attachment to have it cripple you."
"Were I to die right now, would it make you grief?" she asked curiously. "If so, is it not already too late?"
"Death is not the only thing. When it's one thing for you and something else entirely to the other, it also brings pain. Thus I chose to stay alone, and I was good at it for many years. And then, as soon as I allowed myself a bond, it didn't last. I decided to never try again."
And who was Ciri to try and change his mind about that when he was so certain it was something he did not want? "I understand," she said eventually, not willing to admit the disappointment she felt at that. "You have made up your mind."
He knew what she felt – it oozed for her voice, her very body close to him. It wasn't fair to her, he knew it wasn't. But what he didn't know was what was right for him to do. She always came around to confuse him, to push him away from things he firmly stood on, and then he found himself on a wobbling ground. She made him lose himself to some extent, and he hated it. The only constant and reliable thing in his life was that state of mind, his choices and decisions, his logic and instincts, and she managed to steal that balance from him so sneakily it was indeed scary.
"There was a dryad in Brokilon," he ventured in a meditative voice, staring at the water. It was still as a mirror, rippling subtly with the breaths of wind. "She was more curious than the others. She took interest in me, perhaps because she knew Geralt before, and I reminded her of him, hair or Witcher amulet. I was reluctant to respond, but my own curiosity and obligations to their community while I lived there made it easier to cave. She gave me a semblance of bond I hadn't have since my druid childhood. She gave me a way to feel more at home there, to feel more of what it meant to belong. It wasn't love, but it was something that had no label. It felt good to be together – better than being alone. She was the key that opened the inner world of Brokilon to me. Other dryads became more friendly, and I felt less like someone they merely tolerated.
"I guess after that my aid in their war was more like fighting for her cause. I took it over the absence of any cause. She was passionate about it, and it gave a bit of color to what felt pretty nasty before. I tried to see her reason, and even though I didn't always see eye to eye with her, it still made it feel slightly easier. Maybe I fought to not let their war kill her.
"And then there was an army at our border, and we went to protect it. Vastly outnumbered, dryads sold their lives at very high prices. Human losses were many, but they kept coming, determined to clear us out. Sole bows weren't going to make it, and some of us met them with the swords. It went on for hours with changing success, and it was a massacre. I had never been as tired in my whole life, and humans never ended. Their strength didn't falter, and they all were metal-clad. I caught a few stabs in my sides and shoulders, bleeding and nearly passing out. And when I finally managed to slice the knight's throat, I felt I was going down, as well.
"Next instant she was in front me, her eyes wide, her arms wrapping around my neck. I fell back beneath her weight, and as I was falling, I saw two knights a few yards from us, recharging crossbows. Their two bolts meant for me were in her back.
"I tried to stay awake, to get up and kill them, knowing I couldn't possibly even stand straight, and she kept squeezing my shoulder, whispering, 'Don't move… Don't move…'
"It felt like I was dying with her, and I hoped I was. Her last command kept spinning in my head.
"I woke up in the dryads' care with their herbal bandages all over me. The dryads managed to keep the stand until the humans retreated fearing even grander loss. It was costing them too much, much more than they had anticipated before coming there.
"None of it mattered to me, because Brokilon died for me when she did. Along with what I intended to be my last bond. I left Brokilon as soon as I could walk."
His story was grim, very grim indeed. And yet his earlier words of being frightened of any kind of relationship was being contradicted once more. He was sharing. He was helping create a connection. She did not point that out. She listened, feeling sorrow for the friend he had lost, well aware what that could do to a person.
"I have a similar tale of a friend lost. It was not love, but at the time, I had convinced myself it might be. Because I was scared of being left alone in the dark again.
"When I watched her die, it hurt a lot. Though when I think of her now sometimes I hate her. She did some things… Things I have come to realize she would not have done had she truly cared for me. I think she, too, was lonely."
Ciri inhaled, squinting against the growing darkness.
"The few connections I have made with people since then belong to other worlds. I knew from the start it would end sooner or later, so I did not grieve when it was time to go, even if I knew I would never see them again." She turned to him. "I am so sorry you lost someone important to you. I am sorry you had to experience that pain."
There wasn't anyone who was more sorry than he was.
"It's against their nature to give their lives for strangers or outsiders. If I wouldn't have caved, had I kept the distance, she would still be alive. She wouldn't put herself between me and my death. I never wanted it. I never want it again."
"You tried to put yourself between Vesemir and his death," she pointed out softly. "You don't get to choose whether people care about you or not. Even should you decide to hide away."
Kain peered at her with a faint reprimand for her failing to understand. "If no one is attached to me, no one will die for me again. I don't want anyone to die for me ever again."
"Too late," she said. "Me, those people back at the keep, excluding Avallac'h, would all give their lives to defend yours. They would even if you were a complete stranger. That is the kind of people they are."
"I hoped to not give them such chance. I wasn't planning on becoming one of the Witchers or one of any group once again. I wanted to help you with the Hunt since it felt right to do so – after fate threw you at me at Skellige and I couldn't escape. But I wasn't going to stay around to celebrate."
"There is nothing to celebrate." She shrugged. "Life rarely ends up the way we plan or want."
Kain drew in a deep breath, held it, then let it out, slipping off the rock. "I need to sleep it all off."
She nodded. "Alright. I will stop by when I've more details of our journey to Velen. That is, if you still want to come?"
"I said yes and meant it," he responded tiredly, strolling away, Griffin trotting ahead of him.
She let him go and did not follow, keeping her gaze on the lake ahead and how the rising moon was reflected in its surface.
Avallac'h would be furious when she returned. So she decided not to. Not just yet.
Kain collected some twigs and branches for the campfire and made one as soon as they returned to their cave. Griffin settled down in his spot, and Kain lay down beside him, watching the flames while attempting to get rid of the repetitive thought of how he shouldn't have told her about Morénn. It served no purpose.
She refused to understand.
Moreover, Kain was standing on a crossroad unable to pick the right route. She made sense with things she said, but it didn't make sense for him to step over his own decisions. He didn't know what to do about Ciri.
Maybe, he thought to himself almost dozing off, she found me for a reason. There was always a reason. If that reason was defeating Eredin and his Wild Hunt, then Kain should help her and then he could leave.
If there was any after…
When Ciri eventually went back to the keep, she travelled directly to Yennefer's room. She wanted to avoid Avallac'h at all costs, as well as whatever questions the rest of the men downstairs might have for her.
The room lay cold and dark before her. She moved to the fireplace and lit it by placing her hand close to the stack of wood inside, enveloping the brick walls in an orange hue.
Taking a seat on the makeshift bed she had made for herself the night before, she began to remove her weapons, her boots, and lastly her clothing, wrapping the animal furs around her to stay warm.
She was being selfish in pursuing Kain. She knew. Especially when he feared the death of someone he might care about. She could not promise him she would survive The Hunt, or even what came after. Maybe it was for the best this way.