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The fight went on for what felt like a year. Geralt lost all concept of time, all thoughts of how this or that blow of their magic hurt, how every muscle of his body screamed and burned despite the potion - which was wearing out.
He rolled, he sliced, he stabbed and dodged and stabbed again. He drew their dark blood but it hardly seemed to relinquish their fighting rage. They all burned with the desire to avenge their power and lost lives.
No mortal would ever make them lose.
Ciri appeared in the cave, opposite of where Geralt and the Crones were still battling. It became instantly clear to her what she had to do. Instinct prevailed.
She watched her guardian fight for his life – for hers – and it brought to mind every other occasion he had been forced to do so. So many times, so many years. Yennefer, too.
She thought of the men, the corrupted, power-hungry men who had ruined Ciri's life because of their desire to possess her like a trophy. All the damage that had come from their attempts to claim her.
She thought of the Crones – the rulers of no-mans-land – and of their fake devotion to womankind. Preaching one thing, yet eager to please the elven king like the disgusting, twisted creatures they were.
It filled Ciri with such a rage that could not be contained by her body alone. It moved outside. It took hold of the Crones' magic, the very edges of their dimension itself, and it began to push it towards destruction.
Like when Avallac'h had taught Ciri to crush rocks, her hands moved towards each other, attempting to meet in the middle and crush whatever resistance lay between them. The cave-roof dropped rock after rock down into the filthy water, letting in beams of brilliant light from the world beyond. The ground shook, making both the Crones and Geralt stumble as they fought.
One of the Crones set her sight on Ciri and dashed for her with a shriek of fury.
Ciri watched from above as if her soul had split in two and hovered over her body. The Crone only made it so far before she hit a shield and bounced back.
It wasn't at once that Geralt realized Ciri was back - only when the ground began to shake and rocks started to rain down on them did he catch a glimpse of the change. His medallion vibrated violently, and Ciri stood like a goddess of vengeance, her face distorted in fury, her hair flying as if there was a blizzard, and her stance reflected magic as frightening as when she destroyed the man who shot Kain on the Bald Mountain.
She was doing the same, but on a larger scale, he realized.
His heart fell in fear for her, but he saw no other way to turn the tables here: the Crones were too strong. Kain's blood added the might they needed to become deadlier.
Even in her out-of-body state of mind, Ciri felt her muscles ache with the effort it took to continue her work. Her blood was boiling, her skin felt scorching hot. And as the dimension crumbled before her eyes, she knew she would not be able to finish the task with raw power alone. She needed more.
So, like Kain had taught her in the forests of Novigrad, Ciri sought out nature's energy itself. She pulled deeply from the very depths of the swamp, sucked the life from the water and trees and animals, and with a scream channeled it into her desire to destroy the Crones' place of power entirely. The sheer magnitude of power that flowed through her shot arousal straight to Ciri's core. It throbbed deliciously and spread through her veins like wildfire, promising further pleasure the more of the borrowed magic she used.
As soon as the Crones caught up on the tide of power Ciri started, they left Geralt be, distracted by their dimension beginning to crumble. Geralt caught his breath, his head swimming from over-exhausting himself. He propped himself on his sword to not fall down, and the next moment everything went black.
Ciri felt it the moment the world was on the brink of total destruction and with one last push, she shattered it, jumping and snatching Geralt away from the chaos to bring them both back to where Yennefer and Kain were waiting.
With nothing else that she could do for the time, Yennefer glanced down at Kain. He was still breathing and that was enough for her. She crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lower lip uncharacteristically, gaze glued to the tapestry. For a long time, nothing happened, and then it began to flicker, that bright color going off and on like a lantern, becoming faster and faster until eventually, the color seemed to fade from it completely.
Ciri and Geralt appeared as if bringing the last ounce of color with them. Yennefer moved to inspect the damage to the two.
Geralt nearly thought he died or passed out, but the darkness dissipated to show the shrine. Most of the candles blew out, and suddenly the tapestry - now bleak like a washcloth - caught fire that blazed blindingly, setting alright everything around it and spreading like poison.
"We gotta get out of here," Geralt said, sheathing his sword and moving to Kain on the ground. The Cat Witcher was unconscious and very pale.
The Witcher dragged his brother out of the house that was catching fire like a dried heap of hay. Yen and Ciri were close behind him.
Geralt lowered onto his knees at one of the pools to rest as they watched the hut burn. He was breathing heavily, his sight flickering as the potions were finally terminating their effects.
He looked from Ciri to Yennefer. "Are you both all right?"
"Never better," Ciri breathed. Her whole body still vibrated with power and it felt like it would take some time for her to come down from the high.
Though the pale demeanor of Kain knocked some of the confidence from her. She approached him cautiously. "He needs more healing. He lost so much blood."
Ciri hardly paid attention to the burning chapel behind them, nor noticed that the swamp had drained of all color and life.
Yennefer glanced in the direction of the Crones' home. It resembled nothing of what it had been a moment ago, the fire having spread at once, swallowing it whole. In another hour there would be nothing left. It was then that she noticed the surrounding area, too, looked duller. That the trees, ground, and water had lost their color. The Crones' magic spread far and wide across their swamp nest. Thank the Gods she wasn't sticking around long. She didn't like the idea of leaving Geralt to tend to his horses alone when he was covered in so much grime and blood.
Geralt made an effort to get his wits together. It was hard - he was barely awake, and coming down from the potion's effect was hitting him harder.
"The Crones were in cahoots with Eredin," he said, looking up at Ciri. "The Riders or their mage might yet arrive. We have to get out. Take Yennefer and Kain away from here. To Mother Nenneke. It's the closest place. I'll get the horses and come after you. Go now, Ciri. Now. Yennefer will shield your presence if the Hunt decides to search for you. Go. I'll be there in a day or so."
"You know how to reach me, if you need me," Yennefer said, glancing at the bracelet she'd given him. A little trinket to keep them connected and made it easier to find him.
She extended a hand toward Ciri.
Ciri hesitated a moment, eyeing her guardian with concern, then leaned down to take hold of Kain's hand, taking Yennefer's with the other. The moment the sorceress touched her, they were gone.
A second later, they appeared in the main building of Melitele's Temple, startling several priestesses and students who were walking to and fro with their respective tasks. Several of the older ones clutched their chests dramatically.
"Fetch Mother Nenneke," Ciri commanded as if she had such a right. Luckily, she seemed to have spoken with enough authority to have everyone scurry to see to her order.
Yennefer took a quick purchase of the hall, her eyes setting on one of the girls. "You," Yennefer said, pointing at her. "Find this man a bed."
The girl's eyes widened and darted in search of another authority figure. Yennefer snapped her fingers flippantly to regain her attention. Nenneke wouldn't be happy with Yennefer's orders, not that Nenneke was ever happy with her.
Besides, it's what Nenneke would eventually instruct them to do. Yennefer might as well get them started.
The three young ones ran off for Mother Nenneke as requested, while a couple of older ones, who got over the initial fright, approached Ciri and Yennefer and knelt by Kain's side inspecting him.
"So pale," one of them whispered and looked up between the ashen-haired girl and the sorceress. "What happened? Are you two all right? You look not much better."
"Lady Yennefer, is it?" another one asked, scrutinizing the sorceress. "I remember you've stayed nine winters ago or so... Welcome back."
"I'll get the means to carry him," the first one said, getting up, and hurried away.
"You need baths and a room to stay," the remaining priestess said. "We'll see to it when Mother comes. Do you have any injuries? And... where is his?"
There was a lot of information being thrown their way, along with questions that Yennefer unexpectedly felt too tired to answer. She found her voice – she always did.
"His blood was being drained for an uncertain amount of time. We managed to heal his open wounds relatively well, but we didn't have the means to give him the nourishment needed to speed up his healing. He's a witcher. As for my daughter and I, she needs to be looked over," Yennefer confirmed that by scanning Ciri slowly from head to toe. Ciri was covered in a lot of blood. Yennefer knew some was what she had added, but there was also that which she couldn't be sure of. "I just need your generous offer of lodging."
"I'm fine," Ciri protested, her words a direct contradiction to her body's sudden reaction. The feeling of elation and power was draining from her, and as it did, gave way to exhaustion. She slumped to her knees next to Kain on the floor, hovering over him protectively as the priestesses and novices began to fuss.
"You don't look fine, child," the priestess said softly, peering at Ciri with motherly kindness that was so rare in the world outside the Temple.
"Yennefer!"
Mother Nenneke was approaching hastily from across the hall and a small group of priestesses following her like a swarm of birds. Her eyes landed on the ashen-haired girl kneeling next to Kain, and her pace faltered, shock reflected on her face.
"Ciri? Oh, by the Goddess, is this really you? My sweet child! You're well, my sweet child!"
Yennefer tipped her head in acknowledgment. She'd forgotten that the elderly woman hadn't seen her since her return. An image of a younger Nenneke and even smaller Ciri popped into her mind.
Ignoring Yennefer, Nenneke pulled Ciri up into her embrace, warm and loving as it always had been.
When she released Ciri, her brow furrowed at the sight of Kain. She stilled, then looked to Ciri, seemingly composing herself. "What happened?"
"She went up against some monsters. Kain— Geralt's— He's a witcher," Yennefer corrected, briefly answering for her, deciding not to offer up the familiar connection. "Was bled out. Geralt's on his way here."
Ciri was grateful Yennefer took on the responsibility of answering Mother Nenneke's questions because Ciri herself suddenly felt too drained. The old woman's embrace was warm and held a certain hint of familiarity, and yet it had been so long since they'd last seen one another that an unusual shyness crept over Ciri.
"He needs help," she said eventually, gesturing to Kain. "Quickly."
"Of course." Nenneke turned to the priestess that lingered near them all this time. "We'll take him to the room now."
The priestess nodded and stepped away, her eyes flicked to the group of priestesses hurrying with a stretcher. They were quick and neat in their group efforts, and within the next few minutes Kain was deposited carefully on a bed that had been occupied by Geralt more than once years before.
Nenneke fussed around him, examining and quietly consulting another priestess who went away to see about the orders.
Yennefer and Ciri were escorted to the room they had lived in during their training almost a decade ago. The room was clean and the windows were open to vent it, as if the guests had been expected. Outside a thunderstorm was gathering, the sky was gradually darkening with heavy, purple clouds.
"Are you doing that?" Ciri asked with a furrowed brow, staring at the oncoming storm in its purple glory when she and Yennefer were left alone in their room.
Yennefer moved over to the window studying the incoming storm, hopeful that Geralt was still on his way and hadn't been struck by some complication. If only he hadn't been so stubborn. She could have gladly taken care of the horses and made it back. Yennefer knew she should have fought him on it. She sighed. If he wasn't back by next sundown or sometime within the middle of the next night, she'd make a point of going in search of him.
Yennefer turned her back on the weather, on the ominous entanglement and scanned their bedroom. And it had been their room. It wasn't now. They hadn't been here in years and any trace of their past life had long since been removed. The memories, however, the happiness Yennefer felt being in this space again – more importantly with Ciri – was beyond words or description. Her Ciri, whom - at her more desperate and darker times - Yennefer had thought she might never see again.
It almost made her want to cry.
"No," Yennefer answered, unbuttoning the fixings on her corset. The bath hadn't been filled yet, but the novices would be along soon enough to do so. "But it is a relevant enough depiction of how I think this day has gone. Seems fitting."
"What do you mean?" Ciri asked, turning to regard the sorceress as she undressed. She was still as beautiful as when the two first met. Ciri had envied Yennefer's beauty then. If she was truthful with herself, she still did to a certain extent. "We won. For once, accomplished what we set out to do. The Crones are dead. For good this time."
"I don't feel particularly good about Geralt being out there alone. I know we won the battle, but the fight's not over until he's here with us." A lot could happen in the span it took for him to get here. Yennefer was too familiar with how quickly those tides could change and weather was always an indicator.
The sorceress took a seat at the dressing table, missing the lines of rouges and perfumes that used to decorate the table. Not that they'd meant to stay here very long. Yennefer knew they'd been sent here for Kain, and Kain alone. Their healers were of the best and, more importantly, Geralt trusted Nenneke.
"What did you do in there? Can you be sure they'll stay dead this time?"
Ciri also worried for Geralt, but had to trust he would not have sent them ahead if he was not going to be all right. He would never do that to her. Would never leave without saying goodbye.
"I destroyed their dimension," Ciri said, unbuckling her belt. She threw it and the weapons attached onto the foot of the nearest bed. "With them in it. Should have done the trick."
Yennefer scoffed and sat back, resting against the wood of the dresser, her legs crossing as she undid the intricate laces on her boots. "Details. How exactly did you achieve that?"
"The same way I crush stones." Ciri mimicked her earlier movements, pushing her palms closer together. Without the actual magic this time. She shrugged. "It just came to me. Like my body already knew what to do."
She leaned down to pull off her boots, then started on the rest of her bloodied attire. She still wasn't sure how much of the blood was hers and how much was Kain's. Or the Crones'.
Yennefer had nothing else to say or even ask. There was no way to be sure if Ciri had managed to destroy the Crones, even if the outside ruin had been an indicator. The magic had still been there.
A knock sounded on the door and then gently swept open, revealing a line of novices, all with a bucket in hand and an accommodating smile on their faces. They swept into the room, one after the other in an orderly fashion, dumping the water into the wooden bath, leaving as swiftly as they'd arrived.
"Mother Nenneke thought you might want something to eat," one remaining girl said and set down a bowl of apples on the dressing table beside Yennefer, bowing lightly before she left, closing the door behind her with such grace that it was scarcely heard.
Yennefer gestured to the water for Ciri to make use of it first.
"After you."
The novices hadn't brought any of the scented soaps that Yennefer liked as Nenneke didn't see value in such items and lived on the bare necessities. Yennefer helped herself to an apple and toed off a boot.
For once, Ciri didn't feel self-conscious in the nude despite the fact several strangers had just traipsed through their room. She was too exhausted to feel shame.
Dipping a toe in the warm water, she quickly climbed into the tub and settled down, blood and grime washing off her skin and making her feel more like herself again.
The last time she had bathed in the Temple of Melitele, Yennefer had been the one to wash her, the one to comb her hair. Ciri was too old for such treatments now, of course, and a part of her mourned that. She still longed to have the sorceress take care of her like she had when Ciri was a small girl. Just for now. When everything was dark and uncertain and Kain lay unconscious and Geralt was still so far away.
Yennefer took a bite out of her apple, dropping it back into the basket for later, removing the cloth fingers of her gloves one at a time. When she was done, she set the gloves down behind her and shifted the dresser chair forward, its legs noisily scraping against the cold floor, until it was perched next to the bath.
Yennefer stood, crossed the small space to the only part of the room that hadn't changed in their absence, and plucked the washcloth from its hanging space beside the sheet used for drying, and returned to Ciri's side.
Without a word she dipped the cloth into the water and began to slide it up Ciri's arms, shoulders, around her neck, being careful as she undid Ciri's usually messily tied hair so she could give her a thorough scrub.
When she was done, she squeezed out the cloth, hanging it over the edge of the tub and stepped aside to give Ciri privacy, and to finish her apple.
After her own bath, Yennefer crawled beneath the covers and promised herself only a handful of hours of sleep before she'd forcibly wake herself up to check for Geralt.
Geralt lingered around the bog for a while. He waited to feel better while the potion effects faded, and watched the shrine burn and spill a few sparks toward the former orphanage barn, but it didn't quite take in the humidity of the marsh. He had a feeling it was all magically reasonable: one was a place of darkness and another was an attempt at the goodness of a heart. He briefly wondered where the children might have gone when the woman who watched over them was taken away by her husband, the Bloody Baron. Geralt didn't want to think they perished without her care, and a part of him felt guilty for not looking to their safety back in the day. He had been too busy chasing his own child to take extra care of others, and it did him no honor on the humanity scale.
When the pointed roof of the Crones' shrine crumbled in an explosion of fiery sparks, Geralt went away. No drowner or hag attacked him. The corpse of the fiend they fought was beginning to fall apart like the rest of the sisters' magic that laced the bogland.
It shocked the Witcher how small the area was where they all got lost. He saw their trails now, fading on the spongy ground, and felt surreal. They had been barely a dozen feet from each other and heard nothing in the fog.
When Geralt found Roach (and caught her after chasing the spooked animal around the swamps for nearly twenty minutes), Onyx and Kelpie were nowhere to be seen. He called and searched, but the trail told him they departed. Knowing Kelpie and her bond with Ciri, Geralt had to assume she went for the girl on her own. Onyx must have followed - their trails headed in the same direction, both galloping.
"At least you waited for me," he murmured, stroking the mare's neck. Roach snorted and shook her head.
The first heavy drops of rain fell down when they reached the road and picked up their pace. Somewhere in the distance, it was thundering. It will douse the fire, Geralt thought. He hoped that by that time the filthy place would be reduced to smoldering charcoals.
When he finally arrived in Ellander in a day and rode up to the Temple gate, a new day had painted the sky in lighter colors, but the afternoon sun had difficulty breaking through the clouds.
He was met by a couple of young priestesses who served in the gardens and the stables. They took Roach and told him that Mother Nenneke was waiting for his arrival.
Geralt thanked them and headed for the Temple on tired feet. He tried not to think about a bed and sleep not to fall down right away.
"Why won't they let me see him?" Ciri exclaimed for the third time that day after returning from yet another attempt at sneaking into Kain's room. "We brought him here," she told Yennefer. "What do they think I am going to do? Finish him off?"
"They're healers, Ciri. We should trust them. Nenneke would never harm Kain. When they've tended to him as aptly as they can, I'm sure you'll be one of the first they permit entrance to."
Even if Mother Nenneke had strict views about men consorting with the women. Yennefer refrained from airing that suggestion to Ciri. Ciri was overwrought and given that Geralt had yet to arrive, Yennefer understood why that was.
"Why don't we take a walk around the grounds?"
Yennefer had helped herself to a book from the library earlier—as she'd done in the past—to kill some time, determined that if Geralt didn't arrive by the afternoon she'd go looking for him on horseback or any other means at her disposal. She flipped it shut, setting it aside on the bed covers and got to her feet, striding out of their shared room for the entrance.
"Fine," Ciri grumbled under her breath, following the sorceress outside. Her mood was sour, indeed. She'd expected to feel such elation once the crones were no longer a problem, but she didn't experience that sensation at all. Maybe it would come in time. But for now, Ciri mostly felt annoyed. Annoyed at the priestesses who barricaded Kain away as if he belonged to them. Priestesses who had been novices when Ciri was last here. Though she couldn't remember them all by name.
Some priestesses had gathered and whispered of the Witcher's arrival.
Yennefer's heart picked up in speed and some of her own concerns finally began to abate.
"Geralt's here?" Ciri asked Yennefer, pausing briefly in one of the hallways to glance after the whispering girls. "Why wouldn't he come see us?"
"I suspect because he has only just arrived," Yennefer replied. She looked to Ciri, surprised that she hadn't run ahead to greet him at the first whispers.
She seemed most enthusiastic to see him whenever they'd been parted and it had been a whole day now. Where was the jubilation? The usual relief that adorned her pretty face at the mention of his name? She must be more worried about Kain than Yennefer had anticipated.
Nothing of Yennefer's thoughts reflected on her face.
"Then we should go find him." Ciri liked to think he'd made it to the temple all right, without further damage. But he'd been so exhausted the day before when they parted ways, she was worried that might not be the case.
She advanced down the hallway and slipped past the small group of novices standing near the door overlooking the courtyard. They were all in titters, probably because a real live man had made an appearance.
He didn't look much better than he had the day before.
"Geralt!" Ciri called, ignoring the poignant stares of the girls behind her as she made her way down the stairs to greet him.
Smiling with relief, Geralt hastened his step to sweep her into his embrace and twirl her around like he did when she was ten.
"I'm happy you're fine," he said into her hair, and released her, sobered up. "How's Kain?"
"I don't know," Ciri said as Geralt put her back on her feet. "They won't let me see him. Are you alright?"
"Tired, stinking of swamps and Crones and sweat, but fine. I'll go see Nenneke. She'll tell me how things are."
Ciri nodded, restraining the temptation to have Geralt relay a threat regarding the door that continued to separate her from Kain.
"Say hello to Yennefer first." Ciri knew for a fact the sorceress had been worried.
"No, need to hurry. I'm right here," Yennefer announced as she came upon the two. She'd only been a few short steps behind Ciri.
Geralt gave the sorceress a warm smile and nodded, hesitating to touch her in his current state of dirty and dusty from the road. "Glad to see you rested, Yennefer. Now if you'll excuse me, ladies, I shall go find Nenneke and then hopefully a bath."
He started away.
All that concern and he'd merely spared Yennefer a smile. That hurt. She returned it nevertheless.
"I'm sure she is exceedingly eager to see you," she said, swiftly heading in the opposite direction to take the walk she'd suggested to Ciri.
Ciri looked between Geralt's retreating back and Yennefer's, quickly following in the latter's wake before catching up with her.
"You're hurt," she commented, daring a glance up at the sorceress. "You know it would not be like this if he remembered."
"But it is," Yennefer stated with cool practiced indifference, the type she'd served and fallen to for decades. And there was nothing to be done about it yet. "You should go see Kain. I'm sure – even with their means – you're more than capable of getting in to see him."
"If I were to hurt them – certainly," Ciri admitted. She'd not quite taken that step yet. "But I am here with you now."
"You think I mean for you to cut down the priestesses?" Yennefer asked and laughed softly. "I suspect that being here has conjured up a lot of old distasteful memories, but I thought that by now your opinion of me might have changed."
"My opinion of you?" Ciri frowned with mild confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Daughter, that your view of who I am can't be too respectable if you think I meant for you to exterminate a bunch of priestesses for a boy."
"I never said exterminate," Ciri said with a smirk. "And I was just pointing out that those women will not stand down unless faced with violence or on Nenneke's orders. They never much cared about what I had to say."
Yennefer nodded in mild agreement and smiled lightly, falling silent as they walked side by side. She had renewed insecurities on her mind and even more to think about.
Ciri eyed the gardens as they walked. They hadn't changed much since the last time she was here. Not much at all.
"Remember when I made you chase me over that hedge?" Ciri asked, pointing to the said topiary hedge some distance away, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Think you can still make that jump? Or are you too old now?"
Yennefer's hand shot to her heart as if offended, and then she took off, making a run for the hedge, determined to beat Ciri.
Ciri grinned, delighted by Yennefer's playfulness, and gave chase. They ran across the garden, among wildflowers and herbs planted by the priestesses. Ciri would never have been allowed to do so as a child under Nenneke's care, but Yennefer permitted it once or twice.
Just before they reached the hedge, Ciri swooped an arm around Yennefer's waist and pulled her down on the grass with her, giggling.
"Told you you wouldn't make it."
"So you did," Yennefer said somewhat breathlessly, smiling softly, enjoying the sound of Ciri's playful giggles. Yennefer looked at her and saw her face shift into that of the small girl she'd come to know and love. Why was Yennefer able to believe that? Why was it she could look at Ciri and know that the girl loved her and that Yennefer loved her back? Why was it she was so sure? Was it because Ciri was so open with her feelings or that it didn't matter whether Ciri loved Yennefer back? Geralt had always been open with his feelings, too. Not with speaking them, but he thought them, and for years, he'd let Yennefer intrude on those thoughts, to know their truth even if they couldn't say it. It was in the actions. And yet, it wasn't enough, it wasn't this…
The Djinn had been the mask. The haze of lust. At least where Geralt was concerned. Yennefer had never been surer of her feelings. Or maybe she only thought she was?
She thought of Istredd, of the life he offered her, of the life he begged her to share with him, of how comfortable they'd once been and how for a time—before Geralt—he'd been her only future. She thought, if anyone, he'd be the one to provide her with the family she desired, and yet, that's why she'd held onto him so tightly, knowing that it would never happen.
He deserved better, at times, in moments like this - she knew they all did.
"I should venture to Aed Gynvael in the coming days."
Ciri sat up, her face instantly a mask of concern and confusion. "Aed Gynvael? What's there?"
Yennefer mirrored Ciri's action and sat up, touching a hand to Ciri's cheek to soothe her concern. "Perhaps nothing, perhaps everything. I have a friend there that could help us or possibly supply us with information about the Wild Hunt that we might not have heard yet."
"Who? What friend?" Why hadn't Yennefer mentioned this before? Unless she was actually reluctant to see said friend and her choosing to now was an act of desperation.
"A friend," Yennefer repeated, lowering the hand from Ciri's face. "An old friend." She wasn't going to go into the details of their history. "How long before the Wild Hunt returns in full force?"
"I don't know," Ciri admitted. There was no true way of knowing that. But she suspected Eredin's people had found him by now and brought him home.
"Is this because of Geralt?"
Yennefer met Ciri's eyes, trying to gauge how to answer and then nodded. "Don't you worry about it, no matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere – at least not for very long."
"You best not," Ciri murmured, her gaze lowering to the grass beneath her hands, picking at one of the strands. "I only just got you back."
Yennefer placed her hand over Ciri's. "And I you. I'm not going anywhere for good. When this is over, no matter the outcome, we will be together."
Ciri squeezed her hand in return. "Count on it."
She looked forward to that day, though found it hard to imagine exactly how it would play out. All her other fantasies had turned out less than what she expected. Perhaps it was better not to have any expectations at all.
Ciri stood and pulled Yennefer up along with her, brushing her trousers clean of grass. "Let's finish that walk. You know, I never imagined going to war would include so much sitting."
Yennefer dusted the seat of her pants, linking arms with Ciri so they could take a slow walk this time. "If that's your only gripe, you're lucky that there aren't more politics involved. If there was, our lives would be at a possible standstill for years." Yennefer had already been in enough of those. "It's also why… if you feel anything, have anything that you want to say, don't hold back. These quiet times are when it's best to act because you never know when and how it'll change." Yennefer had learned that the hard way. Twice.
Ciri eyed the sorceress as they walked. "Do you have something you want to say?"
Or had she referred to Ciri's feelings for Kain? Ciri had already confessed those. To everyone, it felt like.
"Just that I love you, my ugly one," Yennefer said, affectionately patting Ciri's hand.
Ciri smiled despite the godawful nickname Yennefer had always insisted on calling her. "I love you too, mum."
Yennefer's heart felt full. They walked around the gardens for a time in contented silence, acknowledging those around until eventually they reached the stables.
"I assume you'll want to make sure your beast is fed, I shall go tend to my book."
"I do."
Kelpie and Onyx had arrived a few hours before Geralt. It had been a joy to have Kelpie back safe and sound, but their arrival had made Ciri worry about the Witcher. Apparently, the two horses had been just impatient.
"See you in a bit," she said and disappeared into the stables to see to her and Kain's mounts.
Geralt was escorted to the room he had been staying in many times before. Two priestesses were standing guard at the door, doing their prayers quietly, their lips moving in a subtle way.
Inside he saw a low bed covered in furs above the covers – the bed he had spent many nights and sometimes days, especially after the infamous striga contract. Kain was occupying it now, and his face looked too pale for a living person, white as a royal marble.
Nenneke sat next to the bed, her hand stroking the boy's cheek, then forehead as if probing for a fever. She looked not a day older than the last time Geralt saw her. When she turned to him as he walked in, he noticed a few more lines at her eyes and some more silver strands in her hair, but she was still the same Mother Nenneke. Must be her expert use of all the herbal ointments and potions, Geralt thought as he came up to her and let her squeeze him in a brief but hearty embrace.
"I'm so relieved you're all right," she said, sobering up as she settled back on the side of Kain's bed. Geralt pulled a chair to sit down.
"How is he?"
Nenneke scoffed. "Can't you see? Unresponsive. Lost too much blood, and there's barely anything I can do before he wakes up to accept the potions. And you?" She glared at him. "Ciri told me. The Crones, Geralt? The rulers of the boglands? What were you thinking? Or you merely didn't, as you sometimes prefer?"
"They were after Ciri," he said, holding her glare. "Didn't she tell you that?"
"I had no time to have a thorough discussion of your reckless deeds with her." She regarded Geralt sternly. "Has Ciri been running with Scoia'tael? You let her?"
"What? What is that supposed to mean? I have just recently found her." He scowled. "You know him, I take it?"
She sighed. "He's been here a few times before. The Goddess brings in many people, as you're well aware. One time as a witcher – with his wounded friend. Both Cats. We treated his sidekick, and they left a few days after. Another couple of times he came with renegades from Scoia'tael and Brokilon. Some needed treatment, all of them needed sanctuary, and you know this Temple accepts everyone."
Geralt smirked, "But when it comes to Ciri, you don't approve?"
"Oh by the Goddess, Geralt! You know what I mean. It's not about him personally."
"Do you know him personally?"
She pondered, looking at Kain with a melancholic expression. Then a subtle smile touched the corners of her mouth – barely there, but Geralt noticed. "He walked around the premises. And when he wandered into the greenhouse, his eyes… let us say, his warm feelings for nature's gifts won my sympathies. But then again, many elves are like that. Even dirty bloods."
"I see."
"He was never among the wounded. And now I have little to no idea what to do. His pulse is so weak he reminds me of you."
"Have you let Ciri see him?"
She scoffed again. "Why, she became a healer? Has your sorceress taught her? I highly doubt it."
Geralt refrained from smiling and clicked his tongue softly. "There's some things you should probably know."
She set her eyes on him with an inquisitive expectation. Geralt drew a deeper breath and started to talk. He tried to make it shorter than Dandelion would have accepted, but Nenneke needed no extra epithets to grasp the point.
When he finished, she sat still for a while, digesting. Then she shook her head slowly and sighed. "I have to admit, Geralt, even for someone like you who always finds himself in the middle of the strangest occurrences, this is a lot to take in."
"Yes, we're still… adjusting."
She waved a dismissive hand. "As fascinating as it is, barely any of it helps me with him." She thought about it, then shrugged. "Perhaps letting her see him might do some good." She stood up and beckoned Geralt. "Come on. You need a bath and a bed, let alone some hot meal and a few ointments."
Geralt got up as well. "I'll sleep here on the floor."
She gave him a look, then relented. "We shall fetch you a mattress."
"Thank you."
"Always."
Ciri made sure Onyx and Kelpie were watered and hayed, then spent a good chunk of the remaining afternoon brushing both horses down, removing every last trace of the swamp from their coats and hooves.
When she made her way back to the temple some time later, she came upon a few young novices trying to peek through the keyhole in the door to Kain's room. They straightened when they noticed Ciri, flushing a furious red and scattered away, looking absolutely mortified at having been caught.
There was no one guarding the room anymore, so Ciri finally entered. She found Geralt in a tub, looking as though he was half-asleep. That explained the giggling novices.
Kain lay on the single bed, apparently out cold.
"Any changes?" Ciri asked, closing the door behind her.
"None." He slid deeper into the tub, a bit self-conscious. Thankfully, herbs and petals floating on the surface obscured the view. He gave her a closer look. "Have you rested? Feeling all right?"
Ciri gave the tub a wide berth and took a seat on the edge of Kain's bed, finding his hand with hers.
"I'm fine. Glad we succeeded in what we set out to do but..." Her gaze lingered on Kain's pale features. "Wondering if it was worth it now."
"He's still alive," Geralt pointed out. "He pulled out at Kaer Morhen, he'll do it again. And had we left the Crone alone, she would never have stopped hunting you. Both of you. And who knows, maybe Eredin would be helping in return for whatever spying they've been doing for him in this world. I don't doubt it was worth it. They were a force we couldn't ignore."
"I suppose," Ciri agreed softly, her thumb running circles over the back of Kain's hand. "Did you have trouble on your journey or was it a smooth ride?"
"Mostly it was heavy rain and lightning. Roach hates those." He reflected a moment, then asked, "What you did back there in the bog... How did you do it? Avallac'h taught you that?"
Ciri shrugged like she had when Yennefer had asked the same question. "Remember the exercises we did back at Kaer Morhen? With the bricks? That's what I did – just on a much larger scale."
Geralt didn't know whether he should be impressed or a bit frightened. "You looked almost like when you're in a trance. But this time you kept your control and there was no screaming. It still was some crazy magic. Did it drain you?"
Ciri wasn't aware of what it had looked like, even if she'd experienced some sort of out-of-body sensation. She hadn't been looking down at herself as much as trying to get a good overlook of the cave itself.
"Yes," she answered honestly. "Towards the end. I wasn't sure it would work."
"I know we had no other choice there," he admitted. "But it was rather reckless on your part. I hope you won't have to use such drastic measures again. We better not run ourselves into a corner next time."
"Reckless is my middle name, apparently," Ciri murmured.
"Brought you a towel before you grow a fishtail," Nenneke announced, walking in. She frowned at Ciri's presence and tossed Geralt his towel, which smacked into his face. "Well, that's hardly appropriate for you to be here, young lady. Here," she handed her a bowl with a spoon nestled in it. "Rabbit stew will get some color into your cheeks. You need it. And turn away! You'll get plenty to look at when your time comes. This is not it."
Ciri took the bowl Nenneke handed her, not sure if she was more amused or annoyed by the woman's interference. As if they had to worry about Ciri lusting after her own father figure.
"I've already seen plenty," she said coldly, minding the older woman's demands anyway, facing Kain and keeping her back turned to Geralt so he could dry off.
"That's not something to be proud of," Nenneke chided - without any real heat, however. She produced a clean shirt and a pair of pants from the chest at the wall for Geralt. "Your own need a thorough cleaning, but the way they look and smell I believe we should burn them."
"Please, don't," Geralt said, pulling on the offered shirt, and studied the pants doubtfully before following Nenneke's impatient gesture and putting them on as well. "I've recently bought them in Novigrad."
"Should've worn something old to the swamps, then," she said. "Or something of your brash poet's. Wouldn't be a bad loss."
"Is there some stew for me?" Geralt inquired, toweling his hair.
"She's eating it," Nenneke said, but her mouth twitched with amusement. "I'll bring more, of course, and see about that mattress."
She turned to go, then stopped, remembering something.
"Ciri, if your sorceress wants to eat, you better find her and inquire about it. None of us will chase her around with bread before she asks for it when her room is vacated. We all have chores."
With that, she headed for the door.
Ciri waited until she heard the door close behind Nenneke, then turned to face Geralt.
"Why does Nenneke dislike Yennefer so?"
He shrugged and hung the damp towel on a chair's back. "She never revealed that mystery to me. Women can be strange in relation to each other, and priestesses are no exception. I harbor no fruitless ambition to understand any of it."
"It's not just Nenneke," Ciri reflected, helping herself to a spoonful of stew. "It's all women. Except me," she added as an afterthought. "Must be lonely." She cast one last longing look at Kain and stood. "I'll go get Yennefer her meal."
"Is Yennefer all right?" Geralt asked. He couldn't explain that strange feeling, like a forgotten dream, that claimed him when he thought of the sorceress being here at the Temple.
"Physically, yes. Emotionally... No, I don't think so." Ciri handed Geralt the rest of her stew. "She was talking about going to Aed Gynvael. Alone."
He frowned, his memory stirring faintly, "What's in Aed Gynvael?" He didn't take the stew and gestured for her to finish it.
"Someone who might help us with The Hunt. Or so she said."
"I hope she's not going anywhere this very moment. I'll have to speak to her." He looked at the window pensively. It was bothering him to feel he'd forgotten something important.
Ciri looked at him significantly. "Then maybe you should bring her supper?"
"He needs to rest."
Nenneke closed the door behind her and gave Geralt his bowl of stew.
"Everything else will have to wait while he sleeps. I hope neither of you can argue that."
"I'm in no arguing mood," Geralt said, settling on a chair to eat.
"Fine," Ciri said, briefly glowering Nenneke's way before she headed for the door. "I'll take care of it. Fetch me if Kain wakes."
"If he wakes, we'll have some healing to do," Nenneke murmured, taking her place at the bed.
Not long after Ciri left, three young priestesses brought the promised mattress, set it down, covered with sheets and a blanket, then left as quietly as they came.
"Why do you dislike Yennefer?" Geralt asked.
Nenneke scoffed. "Who told you that? Eat your stew and don't distract me with nonsense."
She closed her eyes and resumed her praying. Geralt smiled subtly to himself and continued to eat.