Curled up in bed at Rosemary and Thyme, Ciri wept. Hard. In solitude, it was easier to do so without fear of being judged.

She still felt the weight of Kain's rejection press down on her chest like a booted foot trying to suffocate her.

He didn't want her. She wasn't good enough. Not beautiful enough. Not strong enough. He saw her as a child. A silly child he had to protect for the sake of the world, and for Geralt. But no more.

He'd never want to stay with her after the war ended. Not after everything that had happened. And so, Kain would ride off with Geralt, because Geralt would surely have to choose his own blood over her. A gift he'd reluctantly been forced to accept.

And Yennefer would either go with them or, in the case she and Geralt did not work things out between themselves, would leave for elsewhere. Ciri would be the reminder the sorceress would not want to carry.

Ciri would be alone once more. Abandoned. Rejected. Because she was not the hero everyone wished her to be.

The door opened and Avallac'h stepped inside. His movements were cautious, his face neutral.

"Zireael?" he said, his voice soft as velvet. "What is the matter? What has happened?"

Ciri forced herself to stop crying and quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Nothing," she whispered, unable to withhold a tremble.

The elf sat down beside her, observing her with a mildly inquisitive gaze. Ciri knew it well. He wanted her to explain, to come clean without him having to ask again.

She stared up into his aquamarine eyes, so beautiful and clear.

"You'd never leave me, would you, Avallac'h?"

She could see her question had surprised him. His impassive mask fell for just a moment to reveal something else. A hint of affection, perhaps. Or something that could easily be mistaken for it.

"I would not," he responded calmly. "Why do you ask such a thing?"

"You would never leave me, no matter what might happen, no matter what I might do?" she pressed on.

He shook his head slowly, his gaze as earnest as Ciri had ever seen it. "No. I would not leave you, Zireael."

That was enough for her. Enough for right now.

Ciri reached for him, using the front of his robes to pull herself closer. And she kissed him. Hard. Demanding.

Avallac'h had frozen until he gently pushed her away. There was a crease to his brow that looked pained. "Zireael," he whispered. "This is not what I meant. I think you are confused."

Ciri didn't relent her grasp on his robes. "No. I know you want this. A part of you has always wanted this. I am offering it up to you now. So take it."

She tried to kiss him again but he abruptly stood, breaking her hold on him and putting space between them. "Zireael," he warned. "No. This is not the way..."

Fury exploded within Ciri anew for the second time that night and she rushed to her feet as well, her fist catching Avallac'h on the jaw as she swung for him.

"Who are you to reject me?!" she demanded, her eyes blazing. "You are nothing compared to me! Nothing compared to the blood that flows through my veins!"

Avallac'h looked shocked. He touched his jaw with one hand as if marvelling at the pain, at the surprise of it all. She'd never struck him before. Not like this.

When she came for him again, he was ready. He deflected her oncoming fist, his long fingers coiling around her wrist, his other hand grappling for Ciri's throat to force her back. "Calm yourself," he said, his voice never rising. "Control your temper."

It was the wrong move and rather than calming, Ciri exploded. She fought him with fists and legs, driving him back towards the door while Avallac'h did his best to deflect her attacks. A chair toppled over in their scurry, as did the iron pokers for the fireplace, clanging loudly as they met the floor. The whole room had erupted into loud chaos.

"Hey!" There was a heavy rapping on the door. "What's going on there?"

The door opened revealing a flabbergasted Zoltan. He froze for a moment, staring at their scuffle, then raised his hands, yelling, "Ciri! Lassie! Stop, hey, listen, lassie! STOP! What's gotten into ye?!"

Ciri hardly even noticed the dwarf where he stood in the doorway. She was too preoccupied taking her rage out on Avallac'h who was doing an admirable job at fending off her attacks.

Her rage was making her fight clumsily; she was not as graceful as she usually would have been, her strikes more like that of an enraged jungle cat than a witcher.

And when she finally did catch sight of Zoltan, she lunged for him as well. Simply because he was there. Simply because he had dared to interrupt.

Avallac'h caught her by the wrists again before she could claw at Zoltan's face, and he spun Ciri around and tightened his arms around hers, clamping them to her sides while he whispered in her ear.

All at once, Ciri's legs gave out from under her. Her whole body went limp and Avallac'h hoisted her against him before she could hit the floor. He carried her back over to the bed where he put her down and smoothed the hair away from her face.

She was still awake, still feeling everything, but her arms and legs felt too heavy to move even an inch.

That Aen Elle bastard had worked his magic on her, had subdued her with the means of a coward! Ciri was still seething but had no way of relaying that other than glaring up at the elf.

Avallac'h released a sigh and smoothed his robes, the scratches and blossoming bruises on his face standing out against his pale skin. He turned to the dwarf. "It is fine. I have it under control."

"Under control?!" Zoltan yelled, still shocked but also furious. "What the hell was that about? What did ye do to her, ye bloody whoreson?!"

Avallac'h barely spared the dwarf a look. His attention was on The Swallow. Even now, still and silent, he could feel the furious heat radiate off her like waves.

Curious.

"You saw her," he drawled eventually. "Unable to control her temper. I am giving her a chance to cool down without risking her harming anyone. Or worse, herself."

"She'd never lash out if ye didn't provoke her!" Zoltan argued, fisting his hands. "I want to know what the devil ye said or did to her?"

Avallac'h turned to him, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Well, if you are certain." He gestured with one hand towards the bed. "I refused her sexual advances. She did not take it well."

Zoltan's jaw dropped open, he stared at the elf like the latter was a loony. "Ye lying scum!" the dwarf growled. "Yer insane if ye want me to believe this horseshit!"

"I don't much care what you believe, dwarf," Avallac'h said. "It is of no importance."

He eyed Ciri intently, trying to see through the veil of anger. If he did not know better, he'd say she'd lost her mind. Snapped. But an inkling of doubt discarded that theory. She was different, though. Of that he was certain.

Ciri had never made any such advances in the past, except for the odd interaction they had a few days prior.

Was it The Elder Blood? Or was it the human in her, overpowering what little remained of her elven bloodline?

Zoltan made an impossible effort to not sock the elf one in the exact area he stated to have guarded against her advances and approached the bed. Ciri seemed awake, her eyes rolling wildly.

"Lassie..." Zoltan murmured, puzzled and beginning to be afraid. He turned to Avallac'h. "What did ye do to her? Can she talk?"

"If she could, she would be hurling curses at us without stop," Avallac'h remarked. "Give her a few minutes to calm. I only have to resort to these drastic measures when she loses control. She is not like a normal dh'oine, dwarf. She could level this building and everyone in it with a mere thought should she wish it strongly enough."

"And what, ye restrain her mind, too?" The dwarf folded his arms, preoccupied and gloomy. "It never happened while she was with us, Geralt and Dandelion and the Cat lad. Ye work her nerves into a wreck, elf."

"Words can have a great impact in the mouth of a magician," Avallac'h said, unconcerned with Zoltan's judgement.

He took a seat on the edge of Ciri's bed, allowing one hand to hover over her chest, deciphering her energy, her emotions.

"Breathe, Zireael," he encouraged in Elder Speech.

Ciri glared up at him, her eyes wet with tears once more. From frustration rather than pain this time. She wanted to destroy him. To pull him apart piece by piece.

But she was also so tired. And even keeping her eyes open required an enormous amount of effort. After a while, her breathing calmed and no longer left her in ragged, short bursts.

She was no longer able to fight the pull of sleep and her eyes fell shut. She slumbered.

Avallac'h, temporarily satisfied with the results, lay his hand on Ciri's forehead and whispered the incantation needed to allow her free reign of her body again. She did not wake. Only stirred, shifting to get into a more comfortable position.

"I don't like this one bit," Zoltan grumbled. Ciri seemed to be asleep now, and he hoped she truly was. He also hoped Geralt would return soon. "I'll wait for Geralt downstairs. And if somethin' is wrong with her, I'll blame yer skinny arse, jus so ye know."

He scoffed and left the room.

Triss was first to arrive, and Zoltan dashed to her from behind the bar counter where he had been entertaining himself with accounting.

"Thank gods at least someone came back," he said.

Triss stared, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"Hell if I know! Something with Ciri... She lost her temper with the damn elf, went completely mad kickin and screamin. Ye know where Yennefer is?"

"I... Oh, maybe in Oxenfurt... Shall I see Ciri? Is she all right?"

"He put her to sleep! Better get Yennefer, just in case. I don't trust his arse around her."

"All right, I'll go now." She focused and waved her hands, opening a swirling portal, and stepped in.

"Ye gods and little fishes," murmured the dwarf, rubbing his neck.

The raven-haired sorceress was undressed beneath the covers, lolling in and out, her head spinning from the wine she'd consumed when she sensed another body in her room. It took her drink-addled brain a minute to recognize the familiar energy signature. With everything going on and how quickly they needed to respond to one another to strategize, finding each other had been made easy for a time.

"What's happened?" Yennefer asked, scrubbing her fingers against her foggy eyes, trying to push herself up onto her elbows so she could peer at Triss.

"Oh dear, are you drunk?" Triss lit the candles with a short spell and gauged the sleepy sorceress.

"Of course not," Yennefer retorted mockingly. "But I am thirsty." She shifted, uncaring as the sheets fell away to parade her nudity.

"Zoltan asks you to return to Novigrad," Triss said. "Apparently Ciri had a nervous fit, and Avallac'h had to put her to sleep. Zoltan doesn't trust him, naturally."

Whatever drunkenness she felt sipping at the water from the jug beside her bed faded at the mention of Ciri's plight. Yennefer started to dress in her usual garb, brushing her hair away from her face, feeling hot and more exhausted than she'd have liked. The evening had caught up to her quite a bit.

"I swore to take Dandelion back to Novigrad in the morning. Perhaps you can do that?"

"Of course," Triss resigned. "Do you know where he's staying? At The Alchemy, as usual?"

"I believe so," Yennefer said. She was doing up the last bits of her armor, beginning to gather the little belongings she'd brought together. "How'd your research go? Anything fruitful?"

"I was cleaning my poor house from all the destruction the witch hunters caused."

"Right," Yennefer offered. She'd forgotten that she'd been meaning to help with that. She didn't feel remorseful that she hadn't got around to it. "Is it livable again?"

"Not fully yet, since I was alone, and there are two stories... But it's getting there." Triss proffered a restrained smile. "I shall be going for Dandelion."

"There's nothing he'll be able to do back at the Inn tonight. Let him rest. Why don't you take my bed?" She gestured to the abandoned covers. Yennefer had paid for the room as it was so she knew Triss wouldn't be disturbed. Up to her.

She picked the dress up off the chair before the redhead could answer, slung it over her shoulder, clutching her bag with one hand and summoned a portal.

A moment later she was gone.

As if Triss would miss everything that was going on at Dandelion's cabaret. It wasn't going to happen.

As soon as Yennefer was gone, she went to The Alchemy, determined to wrench Dandelion out of bed in any state he might be in. A part of her wondered whether the two had spent the night together where unlimited drinks were being served.

Yennefer appeared in the room shared with Geralt at the Rosemary and Thyme, tossed her belongings on the bed and went in search of Ciri. When she entered the room Avallac'h was seated on the edge of the bed. He almost looked stressed. Almost.

"What's wrong with her? Is she hurt?"

Yennefer had crossed the room to gauge her temperature.

Avallac'h did not even look up when the sorceress entered.

"Not hurt. But her emotions are... imbalanced."

"Imbalanced how? Do you have any idea what triggered her emotions?" Yennefer ran her fingers over the top of Ciri's hair, stroking gently.

"She made certain advances I could not accept," Avallac'h said simply.

"Advancements?" Yennefer asked, arching a brow for clarification. She had an idea of what he meant but she didn't know how to fully air the possibility.

"Sexual," Avallac'h clarified. "She was very distraught when I refused her."

"Where's Kain? Geralt?"

The elf shrugged. "How am I supposed to know where the witchers are? I am not their keeper."

"She was with them," Yennefer retorted, ignoring his tone. "At least she was supposed to be. Why did she come back without them? Did she say anything before she…"

Yennefer didn't bother speaking the unfinished insinuation.

"She was crying." That is all Avallac'h knew. He had no idea where the witchers were keeping themselves. Nor did he care very much.

Crying? Why would she be crying? Yennefer should have known that it was easily explainable with what happened and the connection of logical dots but she couldn't help but be afraid anyway.

"You've put her to sleep?"

"I restrained her. She tired herself out." Avallac'h's gaze drifted back to the girl who was slumbering peacefully. "First time I have had to."

Yennefer continued to stroke and brush Ciri's hair while she slept, leaning back against the wall for support. "Something's wrong with her. We haven't been able to figure out what. Is this… is it part of what you know of the Elder Blood?"

"The fiery temper, certainly. And the stubbornness. Her ancestor was the same. But she controlled it better. Concealed it. Ciri has yet to master that talent."

"How is she?" Triss inquired, slipping in. She swept a worried gaze over the elf and Yennefer, and to Ciri, approaching.

Yennefer let the subject go as soon as Triss appeared. She wasn't privy to taking the Elf's words as gold, but no one could deny that he did have a little more experience with Elder Blood.

"She's sleeping," Yennefer said, sliding up off the bed. "You brought Dandelion?"

"Yes," she replied, distracted by scrutinizing Ciri. "He's downstairs with Zoltan, whining."

Avallac'h stood. The presence of one sorceress was bad enough. Two was too many.

"I leave her in your hands for now then," he said and headed for the door.

Yennefer watched Avallac'h go and when the door closed behind him, directed a look at Triss. "You should get some rest. If tonight is anything to go by – come tomorrow – we've a long day ahead."

"Nonsense," Triss scoffed softly. "I won't leave while Ciri is in distress. Did he tell you what happened to her?"

Yennefer wasn't about to argue.

"No, he didn't tell me what happened. All he could do was speculate. I think everything she's endured over the last few years without us had just reached its peak."

She began to stroke Ciri's hair once more, glancing down at her face, observing how peaceful it looked and how contradictory to what Yennefer had apparently missed.

"Perhaps your issues with Geralt are working on her nerves so much," Triss suggested in a quiet voice. "Or her own issues with Geralt's brother."

"Perhaps," Yennefer said, her gaze fixed on Triss features. "You know what a toll matters of the heart can take on us sometimes. Outside influence… like war, don't make it any easier."

"No outside influence can be as deadly as the inside one," Triss commented with a sweet smile.

"Maybe so, but it's certainly enough to increase or add to what might already be wrong."

"If something is wrong, then it needs to be righted," Triss murmured, and shrugged. "Nothing is ever wrong with something right and destined."

Geralt and Kain were met by an anxious Zoltan and a tipsy and exhausted Dandelion who sat at the counter with a cup of water and couldn't keep his head up.

"What is happening here?" Geralt inquired, both witchers going tense. Both sensed what could be wrong.

"I was dragged away from the bosoms of two very lovely ladies!" Dandelion lamented, resting heavily against the bar top. "Oh, it was awful, Geralt. We were having such a lovely time."

Zoltan shot him a scowl. He hadn't been able to get a word in since the poet arrived.

"It's Ciri, Geralt," the dwarf said, confirming their fears. "She's had a fit, and the damned elf had to pacify her with some spell. It was nasty, they were fighting, she came at him like a wild cat. I never saw her behave that way… And that bastard had the nerve to state she wanted to bed him!"

Before they went into that door, Geralt thought he couldn't be surprised anymore, but here it was. Kain, however, wasn't surprised. Just a bit shaken by another proof of how deeply he hurt her. And how hard it was to get her back from the pit she kept digging herself into.

Dandelion blinked. "What?"

He scoffed and looked between them all.

"That is madness. Ciri would never attack someone unless threatened. It's that elf's fault, you hear!" He pointed a finger at Zoltan as if to say that is that.

"How am I supposed to know!" Zoltan yelled. "I woke to their fracas and went runnin, and she was tryin to scratch his eyes out! And the whoreson stated it was over rejection!"

Geralt felt very old and very tired. He sighed, lowering onto the nearest chair, running his fingers through his hair.

Dandelion looked from Zoltan's flushed face to the witchers again. They were uncharacteristically quiet where Ciri was concerned.

"Well?" he demanded. "What do you say to this?"

"What's with her now?" Kain asked.

"Sleepin," said Zoltan. "The elf put her to sleep. Yennefer and Triss must be with her now. I sent Triss for Yennefer, Geralt. I didn't know when you'd be back and that bloody elf-"

"Yes, I understand, thank you, Zoltan." Geralt looked up at Kain. "Bring Yennefer here. We'll have to explain."

Kain frowned dubiously, as if about to ask whether he was sure, but thought better of it and nodded. He jogged up the stairs and went to Ciri's room.

Both Triss and Yennefer glanced in the direction of the door as it swung open, cutting through the awkward silence that had descended on them.

"Is Geralt with you?" Yennefer asked as a greeting.

"Yes, he wishes to speak to you downstairs," Kain said and looked at the chestnut-haired mage. "If Triss is so kind as to keep an eye on Ciri."

"Of course," Triss smiled, tightening her teeth. She would love to be present for that talk.

Yennefer was reluctant to leave Ciri in case she should wake up, but she needed answers, and if Geralt was coming up here – there was no other way to get it. She stilled her hand, eased off the mattress and headed for the door.

When the mage and Kain came down, Geralt invited them all to sit and set about explaining. Kain helped and added things where needed, but mostly the Witcher spoke.

A long silence stretched after he was finished.

"So, the elf told the truth?" Zoltan asked, shaken. He rubbed his beard, looking paler than usual.

"I'm afraid so," Kain confirmed. "She's riled up, and it's usually how her magic makes her react."

"Damn Crones and elves!" Zoltan spat and pushed up from his chair. "I need a sodding drink."

"So, she is... evil?" Dandelion asked, his voice uncertain, his eyes wide.

"She's confused and misled by whatever she caught from the bog," Geralt said. "You know her, she is not evil. She is our little girl. We'll help her shake it. I'll do whatever it takes."

"We have a lead," Kain said. "But we need you to keep her busy next night so she doesn't go with us."

"Argh, if I can do anythin, I shall," Zoltan said. "Anythin for our lassie."

"Then someone else should go with Geralt to retrieve it or follow up with the lead. The trigger is apparent—" Yennefer paused to glance at Kain, hopeful he'd get the point." And the distraction could be as… useful. I've fought with her twice in my time with her and no one else is going to be able to keep her tied down long should they say the wrong thing."

Dandelion was still staring. "Trigger? What is the trigger exactly? Lust?"

"Her triggers are unpredictable," Geralt said. "She feels we are being strange and think bad things about her. It triggers her aggression, as well as any kinds of rejection does."

"She doesn't realize what is happening to her and projects it on the ones around her," said Kain. "It's obvious I cannot be around her without angering her one way or another. So it falls to you three to try and keep her here."

"Besides, Avallac'h is still around," Geralt said. "He can aid. He knows what to do when she loses control."

"Aye, he just knocks the lass out," scoffed Zoltan and poured them ale.

Yennefer clicked her tongue. "Fine. Then to keep her occupied – we should find stuff for her to do."

And not some kind of mission or anything to do with violence.

"Is there anything you need help with around the Inn, Zoltan?"

Zoltan snorted a laugh and drank. "There's nothing to excite a young lass. I would suppose ye shall have more luck with yer time with her, Yennefer. Motherly affection and such things, they do wonders."

"It's going to be the night time," Geralt reminded. "She would be sleeping, if we're all lucky."

Dandelion looked nervous. He was secretly longing to go back to the bedroom he had shared with the two young maidens whose names he had not quite caught. Things had been easier there.

"And if she figures out what we are doing? If she attacks? You have to be with her at all times, Yennefer. All times!"

Yennefer lips twitched at the insistence in Dandelion's voice.

"I'll do what I can. But you might care to join us…"

He was a free spirit, about fun—mostly—and there was a time Ciri took great comfort in his ballads, and only a handful of hours ago he'd provided Yennefer with what she'd needed.

Why couldn't he do the same for Ciri?

"Are you that scared of her, Dandelion?" Geralt inquired, narrowing his eyes at the bard.

Dandelion scoffed. "Scared? Of course not! But the last time we talked I apparently could not say anything right. She left the conversation looking very gloomy."

"She didn't hurt you," the Witcher emphasized, and directed his eyes to Yennefer - they glowed, reflecting candlelight. "Perhaps you and Ciri could attempt to locate the Aen Elle anchors, like the one they found with Kain in the bog."

"You'll need a detailed Continent map," Kain said. "It could be found in Oxenfurt Academy. Can't see why they wouldn't lend it to you."

"That's a good idea and something we could work on later," Yennefer agreed. "I think we should spend time helping her relax, keeping her grounded, steering her away from the necessity of her magic for the day. It's part of the trigger and if she is in fact possessed by some lingering aftereffects from the bog, then we need to give it as little opportunity to manifest as possible."

"And yet we need to find out where else the Aen Elle could have their Riders lurking," Geralt reasoned. "She won't want to relax now, Yen. Not with all that magic boiling in her. And your offer to do that might even upset her. The better choice is to direct her energy into something we need doing."

"I understand the importance of finding the Aen Elle. War doesn't wait. Ciri's well-being overweight's that and until you can follow up on your lead, I'd rather we play it safe. At least as much as we possibly can."

"It probably won't be as you plan, Yennefer," Kain said. "But since we can't convince you, Ciri will do it."

"We have a day tomorrow," Geralt said. "We can go to Oxenfurt and take a look at their maps."

"I've been at the library myself the last few days," Yennefer put in, "I'll follow up on the map. You should stay here with Ciri, Geralt. You've always anchored her and in times of distress, you've been the first she looks for."

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that anymore," he said, a frown creasing his brow. "Seems like we annoy her more than comfort."

"I have the same concern," Yennefer countered. She worried, even more so now that it was confirmed there was something wrong with Ciri. "It doesn't change the fact that she needs you or that she loves you. When she was most afraid she always sought you out. This time isn't any different even if it presents itself that way. We know what's happening to her now and it isn't entirely her doing."

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Kain said, eyeing Yennefer. "This magic stimulates her own darker emotions, and even though it alters her perception, she acts on it out of her free will. She knows what she's doing. She is not possessed."

"That makes it more shite," Zoltan grumbled and drank. "Sodding magic... Nothing good ever comes from it."

Yennefer had nothing else to say on the matter. What more could she say? She had no idea what was going on with Ciri aside from what they'd told her and she was worried, scared of pushing a boundary they wouldn't be able to come back from.

Triss was sitting on the side of Ciri's bed, watching the girl's face. She turned and smiled brightly when the witchers came in on quiet feet.

"Can we have a moment, Triss?" Geralt asked.

"Oh, of course." She slipped off the bed and stood aside as Geralt approached. "She's deeply asleep."

"Thank you for keeping an eye on her," the Witcher smiled appreciatively at her.

Triss stroked his shoulder and nodded. Then went out the door, leaving them.

Ciri looked peaceful. It was hard for Kain to imagine she had been choking him earlier looking like a goddess of fury.

"Is that thing on her?" Geralt asked.

Kain nodded and bent to her, slipping his fingers in her shirt cleavage. He came back with the cameo of white stone. Geralt took it from him and studied; the stone sparkled in the dim candlelight.

"Lara," he murmured. "Still the symbol of their war." He put the cameo away into his belt pouch, then bent to Ciri and left a tender kiss on her temple. She stirred but slept on.

The witchers left as quietly as they came.

"I'll spend the night in the woods," Kain said.

Geralt frowned, then nodded. "Come back at dawn. We'll have a hard day."

Kain nodded and went jogged down the stairs. Dandelion, Zoltan and Yennefer still sat there: Zoltan was finishing his ale, Yennefer was brooding, and Dandelion nodding off and jerking awake.

"Get upstairs and sleep," Geralt said, shaking Dandelion's shoulder passing by. "We all should get some sleep."

Dandelion's elbow slipped off the bar counter and he jerked awake again, blinking.

"Right... Sleep... Bed...Yes."

He stood, looked around as though he had forgotten something, then moved towards the stairs.

"Aye, I better be goin back to bed," Zoltan said, and took empty mugs back to the kitchen before heading for the stairs.

"Think we can leave her alone in her room?" Geralt asked as Yennefer rose from the chair.

"It's probably best I stay with her tonight," Yennefer said, meeting his eyes. There was also their argument to consider and the fact that she'd blurred some lines a few days ago.

"You look tired," he said, brushing a strand of her hair away from her cheek, his finger stroking along her jawline. His mouth twitched in a small smile that dimmed almost immediately. "I don't want you to exhaust yourself. We need you rested tomorrow. Maybe it's all right if we leave her alone for the night?"

Geralt touched her with so much gentleness that her heart and other areas ached. First, he gets mad at her for being jealous, and then touches her as if their relationship hadn't changed at all. There were so many signs, so many things she thought she believed or was being led to believe that she wasn't sure what to hold onto. The hope was there, and yet, she now knew how fragile it was.

"I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine. The exhaustion is self-inflicted. Moreover, I don't want Ciri to wake up alone after what's happened and get ideas to flee. Who knows what'll be on her mind when she wakes."

"You've been drinking," he said, smiling. "Like Dandelion. You don't need to torture yourself and stay up. Go have a good night. Please. I'll take care of Ciri. She won't escape anywhere. I promise."

Yennefer's head was beginning to pound, feeling heavier than usual and harder to keep upright. Her eyes burned, too. "Are you going to watch over her all night? If you're going to be following up on that lead tomorrow, it's probably best you get as much sleep as you can manage yourself."

"It'll be fine," he said, stroking his fingers down the side of her neck. "I can sleep in her room and wake up if she moves. Don't worry about me."

Yennefer reached up to still the movement of his hand as his fingers sliced through the exhaustion and awakened what it always did – need.

She never liked fighting with him, and she liked it even less now when she was sure that it would only take one misunderstanding to break it in two.

"I do worry about you," Yennefer said, squeezing his hand within her own before letting him go, presenting him with a parting smile as she headed for the stairs and his room.

He admired the view as she sauntered up the stairs, showing nearly no signs of the intoxication he had detected in her - some expensive wine, too. When she was out of sight, he went to the kitchen for a few swigs of water, then went to Ciri's room.

He took off his sword belt, threw her bed's plaid cover and a spare pillow on the floor and made himself as comfortable as he could get.

He drifted off as soon as his eyes closed.