The one with the monochrome horses

When Geralt finally returned to Kit, she was still chatting with some of the women he had seen her with just a moment ago. They watched with astonishment when he joined them.

"Geralt of Rivia! May one ask why you are honoring us with your presence tonight? Are there monsters to be kept at bay?" A blonde woman in a pale green dress was lowering her head slightly. Geralt admired her ability to keep her balance as he was expecting that all that hair piled up on top of her head would surely throw her off and make her topple over.

"Good evening." He bowed back politely. "Tonight is for pleasure only. No fights, no monsters."

"Ah, we are relieved to hear that. They say wherever you are trouble is not far," a second women with dark blonde hair but a much fuller figure chimed in.

"You need not worry. May I have a word with my companion though?" he asked while looking at Kit.

"It's time, ladies!" Anais announced and smiled at Geralt.

The women giggled and went their ways, leaving Geralt und Kit to themselves.

He raised an eye-brow. She shrugged.

"This was pretty civil. They are much nicer than the women at the palace," she answered his unspoken question. "Did you know Anais was at the wine festival too? She saw me there and has been wondering this whole time who I was. She wants to borrow my dress to give it to her tailor so he can copy it for her. Isn't that nice? I didn't think anybody had taken particular notice of it." Kit beamed at him. Geralt remembered the dress and how he had helped her out of it, the thought making him hum happily. "I feel like a minor celebrity now," she chuckled. Geralt was not surprised at all. He had seen how people had looked at her. She had probably been too busy instructing him to have noticed.

"Also," she nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, "congratulations. I just learned that I have apparently snatched the most eligible bachelor outside of Beauclair. I was told I should consider myself lucky."

"Have you not considered yourself lucky before?" he asked with mock surprise.

"Ungrateful creature that I am, I have obviously taken it for granted that a handsome stranger would pick me, homeless and destitute, to be his fake fiancée!" she acted dramatically, clutching her hands to her chest.

It was then that Geralt noted the familiar red scarf that Kit was holding.

"Where did that come from, my dearest betrothed? Have you accepted a token of love from another man?" he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile when he realized who had given it to her even before she could answer.

Kit shrugged her shoulders. "A stranger gave it to me. So odd. I wanted to thank him but he just disappeared. Have I already mentioned that people here are weird?" For a moment Geralt debated on whether or not to tell her that she had just had her first encounter with a higher vampire but then decided to leave it be.

"A bird must have caught it," he suggested instead.

"A bird?" Kit looked at him in confusion.

"That… That's for another time," he chuckled.

"I don't understand."

"That's how I feel when you talk to me and don't explain things."

Kit let out a groan of frustration. "Okay, I get it. I'm sorry. But if I don't get to be the know-it-all, then what's even left of my identity? It appears everything else that makes me who I am doesn't exist here. I can't really impress anyone with my superior skills when it comes to assembling furniture from ikea when there is no ikea." She pouted, possibly holding back a tear. It was hard to tell.

Geralt took the scarf out of her hands and draped it around her shoulders, all while pulling her a little closer.

"Look at me," he demanded. She obeyed, looking up to him sheepishly. "You're plenty, with or without what you left behind. I haven't known you for long but you are a whole, a complete person." He pulled the scarf tighter around her shoulders. "I'm glad I met you." Her glance softened.

There it was again, he thought, that adorable blush. It helped, if only for a moment, to forget what was tormenting him on the inside. He had promised to get her home and now that seemed impossible. And if that was not enough, he chastised himself as the thought of her staying with him caused a little spark of happiness within him.

"You don't look too happy," Kit's voice pulled Geralt out of his thoughts.

"It's nothing. I'm just having a little headache," he tried to lie. Kit did not seem to notice.

"Come on then, let's sit down. Over there." Kit pointed at one of the low walls surrounding the garden of the estate. She leaned with her back against the wall and beckoned Geralt to sit next to her.

"Put your head in my lap," she commanded. "Just let me try something. It's unlikely to make it worse." She smiled at him. Geralt lowered his head onto her lap and looked at her curiously. For a moment he considered bringing up the matter of qualification again but the anticipation of feeling her dexterous fingers on him made him forget about it immediately.

Kit removed the band that held his hair together.

She rested her thumbs at his temples, her other fingers cupping the sides of his head. Then she started to move her thumbs in circular motions from his temples to his forehead and back again. Her fingers pressed into his scalp, her nails carefully but not painfully scraped the skin beneath his hair. Geralt felt himself shiver of the unexpected pleasure that made his toes curl inside his boots. Darkness, warm and all-embracing, seemed to engulf him while her touch made his skin prickle, the feeling spreading like a wildfire through his entire body.

"How does that feel?" Kit's voice seemed to come from far away.

Geralt tried to answer but only managed to croak "good". He wanted to think that he started to relax but the thought that he was doing anything consciously at that particular moment seemed silly. Every fiber of his being seemed to dissolve into that warm and welcoming darkness. Only some hyper-aware nerve endings, attached to Kits fingers, seemed to still connect him to the world. He was vaguely aware that a deep-drawn sigh had escaped his lips. He sank deeper and deeper, while Kit's fingers caressed his head, put pressure on his temples and relieved it.

Kit continued to run her fingers through Geralt's hair even when she noticed he had fallen asleep.

"That is not something I'm used to seeing." Kit looked up to Dandelion who was suddenly standing before her.

"What exactly?" she wondered. Dandelion caught a hint of mistrust in her expression. She probably still had not forgiven him.

"Geralt sleeping peacefully in public. Actually, I'm almost certain that has never happened before. Unless he's dead drunk of course," he added jokingly.

"Is that so?" A contend smile spread across Kit's face as she looked down at Geralt. When her fingers were not running through the silver hair, she caressed the sleeping witcher's forehead.

"Definitely a first." Dandelion looked at the scene in front of him with surprise before he sat down next to the pair. "What did you do?" His tone was accusing even though he had not meant for it to come out this way.

Kit looked at him blankly, seemingly not taking offence. "This is what my mother did whenever I had a headache as a child. I wondered if it was working for him too." She nodded at the sleeping man in her lap.

Dandelion glanced at her curiously as if trying to make sense of what he saw.

"How do you like my music?" he asked. Maybe a change of topic would ease things between them, the bard hoped.

"It's not the music I would normally listen to. But there are a few songs that I quite liked," Kit stated conciliatory with a smile on her lips. "I don't have anything to compare it to, the people seem to adore you though." Something in her demeanor made him think that his first impression of her had perhaps been wrong, just as Geralt had claimed. She seemed rather nice, not hostile at all. It helped, he had to admit to himself, that she appealed to his vanity. He tended to like the people who acknowledged that he was special.

"And how do you like it here?" How many inconsequential questions did he have to ask before he could cut to the chase, Dandelion wondered while he made an effort to hide his impatience.

Kit chuckled, her gaze still lingering on the sleeping man. "It's not too bad despite the lack of indoor-plumbing. Actually," she paused, brushing a strand of hair behind Geralt's ear, "it's rather beautiful. Sometimes I think it's too good to be true."

"Relatable. Everybody thinks that when they come to Toussaint for the first time," he nodded understandingly, noticing the way she looked at his friend in her lap, being certain that she was not referring to the landscape at all. "Do you have places like this were you are from?"

Kit nodded, not taking her gaze of Geralt. "So many. So many others I still wanted to see." Her face did not display any sadness but her voice did. "If I ever manage to get back I need to travel. Well, once that virus-disaster is under control anyway."

"What virus?" Dandelion wondered if he was missing something. She said it so nonchalantly as if it was something he ought to know about.

Kit finally looked at him, hesitating for a moment. "It's like the flu. But much more dangerous. Public life is mostly shut down, we are supposed to keep our distance from everybody to not spread the infection further since the hospitals are full. At the moment, really, anything you can do is sit at home by yourself or with your partner or family if you're lucky enough to have any."

"But you don't have that virus?" Dandelion put a hand to his throat, his eyes widening in fear. Was his attempt to bond with the stranger going to be his demise? Oh, what cruel fate, he thought.

"Unlikely, I hardly had any human contact this year. Honestly, I had nearly forgotten how it feels to touch another person, that's how far I was removed from life. As much as being here sucks, at least I get a little time off from that scenario." She smiled, looking back at Geralt.

"What is my friend to you?" The bard finally asked the question that he considered to be the most important one.

"What do you mean?" She looked at him confused.

"He has taken a liking to you."

"How do you know that?"

The bard was pleased to realize that he finally had her interest and grinned. "I am a bard. I know things. Also, we have been friends for decades, I've probably seen every version of him there is. Well, except the one that sleeps in public. That is not a very witchery thing to do."

"Why not? Witchers need sleep too, don't they?" She smiled, all while continuing her tender caresses.

"Yes, but usually they sleep with one eye open, ready to jump at any moment. But this one," he kicked against Geralt's boot to undermine his point, "he's out cold."

"He was probably very tired. It seems he is not letting on to what's going on inside his head, trying not to burden others with his worries. That's a very tiring thing to do." Kit paused, her face telling Dandelion that she spoke from experience. "Am I very mistaken?"

The bard shook his head and answered, not without a certain astonishment in his voice: "Quite accurate. Considering you haven't known him for that long you seem to understand him rather well." He raised an eye-brow. "You're not reading his thoughts, are you? He hates that."

Kit half-smiled and shook her head. "How would I read a person's thoughts? That's just silly."

"Well, magic of course. Even though Geralt claims you're not a sorceress." Dandelion was not able to hide a certain suspicion in his glance.

"A sorceress? I don't know much about this world but I'm confident I have read myself through enough books to know that Geralt would be able to tell if I could work any kind of magic. His medallion at the very least should react. Is that not right?"

"True," the bard admitted somewhat reluctantly.

"The fact that people exist, who can read your thoughts, is scary. It feels like a violation bound to happen."

"Would you do it if you could? Read someone's thoughts I mean?" Dandelion was trying to get a sense of her personality. With some people it was obvious but Geralt was right: Knowing that she came from very different circumstances made him scrutinize her every statement.

She shook her head energetically. "Never. If not out of respect for privacy then because I would be too afraid to learn what people truly think."

"You would never do it?" the bard asked again. He was genuinely curios.

"No. As they say: With great power comes great responsibility." She smiled to herself.

"Who said that?"

"Uncle Ben."

"Your uncle knows about the temptations of power then?"

"Not my uncle. He's not even a real person actually." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter though, what he says is still true. Any sort of power comes with responsibility."

"What is it then, that you want from my friend?"

Suddenly Kit looked confused. Her hands came to a rest at Geralt's temples. "I don't know what that has to do with power. But did he tell you how I got here?" Her voice remained calm and unchanged.

Dandelion nodded. "Then you know I'm not here on my own accord?" He nodded again.

"What I want is to go home. But that's not in my hands. What do I want? Survive maybe?"

"Is that all? Nothing more?"

Kit bit her lips. "With all due respect but you are a stranger to me and I don't think I have an obligation to tell you these things."

"No, you don't. But I am Geralt's friend and if you are just using him…"

"Using him?" She swallowed hard, visibly trying to calm herself. Dandelion regretted his early conclusion. He had clearly upset her. She looked hurt though, rather than angry.

"I'm trying to exist in… in this place where there is no room for people like me," she spat, her voice quivering. "My life is depending on Geralt's kindness. Do you know what a horrible feeling that is? Without him I'm nothing. When he gets bored of me, and I'm sure that'll be soon enough, and he kicks me out, I'm on my own. In a world that I don't understand." Her body trembled. "Where I'm from, I have a job, I live very well on my own. I've not been this depended on anyone since my childhood. Do you have any idea what a terrible, terrible feeling that is? No home, no money, no food, no way to defend myself from monsters – monsters don't even exist in my world!"

Dandelion realized that he had overstepped a boundary. "I'm sorry, I'm just worried for my friend. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything." He sighed. "He has spent a significant portion of his life in a very unhealthy relationship. Has he told you about it?" Dandelion explained, hoping to defuse the tension he had created.

"No, and it's none of my business."

"So you know nothing?" Dandelion stared at her in disbelief.

"I have come across a few of your ballads. According to those it must have been that magical one true love that compares to nothing else. But again, it's none of my business." Her face did not give away her thoughts, her voice, measured as it was, however carried an edge of anger.

The bard was not sure what to think. Was she calm by nature, stupid or maybe just completely indifferent towards his friend and the effect she had on him, he wondered once again.

"He's sleeping. In your lap. How do you not care about what came before you?" Her calm made him desperate.

She sighed, her hand shaking a little. "There is a… let's call it a proverb: If you want my future, forget my past. I consider that to be very good advice for any sort of… relationship."

Her breath became shaky. "I need a break."

Kit gently placed Geralt's head on the grass and got up.

"You should know one thing," the bard added quickly, hoping to salvage the mess he had created. "He never lets anyone down. You need not worry. But I realize I'm maybe not someone you want to believe, so ask Marlene. Do you know her?"

Kit nodded.

"Good. Kit listen," he shot her an apologetic glance. "We might have gotten off on the wrong foot but Geralt is a dear friend and he's been through a lot, he deserves happiness. If I can, I want to make sure he won't be hurt unnecessarily. And you could hurt him badly because… you have power over him. So please, be careful – or responsible," he pleaded.

Kit did not answer and turned away, wiping a tear from her cheek.

Dandelion sent a silent prayer to the stars. He had wanted to know this woman better, to get a hint of who she was and what his friend was to her. He could have sworn that when the two of them had danced, it was obvious, that it was all the more obvious when she looked at the witcher's sleeping figure so lovingly. For a moment it even made the bard long for someone who would look at him in the same way.

But having talked to her he realized she hid her true feelings, letting him only see what was on the surface. He finally understood why Geralt found it so hard to make sense of her. It appeared her body was speaking another language than the rest of her.

When Geralt woke up the first thing he heard were the familiar tunes of Dandelion's lute.

"What happened?" He got up into a sitting position. "Where is…"

"I'm sorry, I might have scared her off." Dandelion did not look at his friend but focused on the strings which he plucked carefully.

"Dandelion, what did you do?" Geralt groaned.

"I wanted to understand her intentions."

"What intentions? Someone who gets sucked into another world hardly has any intentions."

"Her intentions with you, idiot."

"Oh, come on, you can't be…"

"Maybe listen for a moment. I think I have figured it out. Why she seems to pull back whenever you get close I mean." Geralt sat there with his mouth open. He wanted to reprimand his friend but maybe he really did find out something useful? "She's scared that you will lose interest in her and kick her out."

"I would never…" Geralt started to say but Dandelion interrupted him.

"I know what you would and wouldn't do. Whenever you fall for someone, you fall hard and fast. You knew Yennefer for, what, a day before you decided it was a good idea to tie your destinies together? You really are an idiot that way." He sighed, still only looking at his lute. "She thinks you're in power but we both know that she is. Isn't she?"

Geralt opened his mouth to say something but then decided to remain silent.

Dandelion continued: "I evaluated the situation wrongly. I thought things between you were less… let's say less serious. But you just fell asleep in her lap."

"I guess I did," he contemplated. Did he just get old or was it in fact her influence? "Well, at least you got the part right where you realized that you were wrong. I told you that her touch does… Where is she anyway?"

"Like I said, I scared her off. I don't know where she went." Dandelion sighed. "But I don't think you need to doubt any longer. You should have seen the way she looked at you." Geralt looked at his friend in surprise, feeling his heart jolt for a moment. If Dandelion and Regis shared an opinion, there had to be some truth to it. "It's ridiculous. You guys need to get your shit together."

When Geralt got up and let his gaze wander over the environment, he noticed that his headache was gone.

The bard watched and worried, when his friend left to look for the mysterious woman for the second time on that particular evening.

He found her chatting with a young man, clearly from the Ofiri side of the family.

When Kit saw him, she waived him over. To his great relieve there was no trace of any upset that Dandelion might have caused.

"Geralt, come on over!"

"Ah, the famous witcher! I have heard stories about you." The man whose eyes were blue, without a trace of the typical dark color so common among his relatives, bowed slightly.

"And to whom have I the honor?" Geralt asked. He felt a pang of jealousy seeing Kit with the good-looking young man. Much more suitable for her, he thought.

"Maraal it is, Master Witcher." His smile bared a row of perfectly white teeth.

"Maraal, tell him about the striped horses," Kit demanded excitedly.

"I have heard of your discussion and they are indeed black with white stripes. I once saw the birth of a premature one – it was dead, sadly. And it was all black."

Geralt nodded. "I will remember that should the discussion ever come up again."

"Are you feeling better?" Kit asked.

Geralt nodded again. "I would prefer to leave nevertheless."

"Of course. Maraal, it was nice to meet you and thank you so much for the insight into the world of Ofiri equids." She waved him goodbye without waiting for an answer, grabbed Geralt's hand and walked away.

"Are you sure you are feeling better? You still don't exactly look happy," Kit inquired.

"This evening has become more taxing than I imagined. Also," he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry for whatever Dandelion said."

"Oh." Kit's face faltered for a moment. "It's okay, he's just…"

"An idiot? Yes, absolutely."

"An asshole actually. But I understand, he's worried about you and…"

"Kit," he took her hands. "you don't have to pretend to always be okay with everything. You are in an exceptional situation and it's alright to not be so damn calm about it." Geralt did not want to directly broach the subject of Dandelions epiphany since that felt like cheating to him. He would have preferred if she just confessed what was on her mind. And for a moment it looked like the façade was finally going to give in. But then she regained her composure.

"There is no point in complaining. It's not going to change a thing." Geralt sighed exasperated.

"I promised to get you home. What if I can't keep that promise?" He finally had to address the issue – the knot in his stomach was about to become unbearable.

Kit shrugged. "Then you will break a promise that probably wasn't yours to give in the first place. It's okay. Not ideal but, in all honesty, I don't really believe that there is a way back."

"Why?" Geralt was more than surprised to hear this. So far, whenever they had talked about her world the option of not going back had never even been mentioned.

"It's hard to describe. When I first got here I… My body and mind seemed to operate on two different layers of reality. I don't know how else to describe this. It felt like I wasn't really there. My mind was but not my body. But after the wine festival - I don't know. Everything suddenly seemed to be back in place and I felt like I was somewhat… rooted? I know it sounds silly. But I suddenly didn't feel like a foreign body anymore. And now, when I think back," without warning her voice started to falter and tears started streaming down her cheeks, "it's my home that doesn't feel real anymore. My memories are beginning to feel like they are not my own anymore. Everything feels so removed. Like I never belonged there."

She held out her right hand while Geralt still tried to process her sudden mood swing. "See that scar on my little finger?" He took her hand in his to examine it more closely. The small scar on the lower phalanx was barely visible, the skin just a tad lighter than the rest. He could hardly even feel it when he ran his thumb over it. "It's from my dad. He was picking me up from kindergarten and it was pouring outside. I was on my bike and he walked next to me. When it was time to cross the street, he reached for the handle of my bike because he was afraid I was just going to cross without looking and get hit by a car. The nail of his thumb dug into my skin, accidentally of course."

Geralt's eyes widened in shock as Kit trembled in front of him.

"This is one of my most present memories from my early childhood. I not only remembered how it happened, I remembered everything. The smell, the pain, all the emotions." She sobbed. "I don't remember these feelings anymore. They are gone. It's like I never experienced it and I just happened to be an onlooker from the outside." She buried her face in her hands. "Geralt, my memories are changing. All of them. Everything is wrong."

Shaking, she kneeled down and buried her face in her hands. "I don't understand why this is happening," were her last words before she broke out in sobs.

Geralt felt his insides clench, felt like throwing up. The sadness and despair she radiated overwhelmed him. His heart broke for her.

He could not speak, did not know what to say. He simply scooped her up from the floor and brought her back to Corvo Bianco while she shook and trembled in his arms.

When they arrived, he carried her to bed and drew the blankets tightly around them while holding her in a firm embrace. He half expected her to rise from nightmares every now and then but while he got no sleep at all, being too busy worrying about what was happening to her, she did not wake even once.

Protecting his loved ones was nothing new to Geralt. But so far, he had always known what he was protecting them from. Now he was completely at loss and put all his hopes on Regis.

The thought of losing Kit terrified him more than any monster had ever done.