With a Witcher

f o u r

Their lives had changed to have a new form of domestic routine. Cirilla and Jaskier would leave with Geralt as he hunted and they would return to her afterwards. It was like they were coming home. She had her own unconventional and slightly dysfunctional family.

She missed him when he left. They were not together but the air stifled them when they were alone together. Longing and lust clouded their minds yet he remained respectful. They took it slow. He did not sleep with her yet. She still held off on the idea of waking up to an empty bed to find him gone.

It was not that she did not trust him but rather that she did not trust herself to recover if he ever left again. She was not sure if she would be able to return to a normal life if she let him into her heart. It was too much of a risk for her to take.

Whilst her cat was the reason she was still sane, she knew that she could not get another animal every time Geralt hurt her. It was not financially feasible. Especially since she allowed him and his family into her home. Food, room and money was scarce and it was getting harder and harder to keep them all fed.

It was not by lack of trying on both her and Geralt's part but the winter frost had not left despite it being spring. The chill in the air froze the ground over and prevented any new growth. People did not sell as much at the market as they too were stockpiling all that they had. Anything available for purchase was on the brink of extortion.

It was starting to become borderline unliveable. With so many mouths to feed and the resources available to her, if they did not find a way to feed themselves soon, it was likely that they would all perish. The one thing that she did have in abundance was warmth. Geralt ensured that there was always enough wood for the fire.

Whilst the fear of starvation was at the forefront of her mind, the terror of Nilfgaard never left her. The chance of an impending attack loomed above her as she tried to get on with her life. Her fear was exacerbated when she was alone with her thoughts.

Her cat tried to comfort her on nights where the wind wailed and her mind would not rest. Its warm body curled into her yet she found no relief. The last time she felt peace was with Geralt. She only seemed to find peace when she was with him. There was peace when he played with her hair and kissed the top of her forehead. She found peace when she heard the sound of his heart and when she saw his chest rise and fall.

*

She was worried. It had been months since the left and Geralt's latest hunt was only a week away by foot. It was somewhere in the south but she did not know the specifics. Not really. Her geography was poor, to say the least.

Worry sunk her stomach. What if Nilfgaard found them and they were in trouble? The unsettling feeling in her stomach let her know that something was wrong but she did not know what it would be. She had no way to contact them and all she could realistically do was wait. She employed some of the same tasks she did when she tried to forget about him. She sewed intricated designs to be sold at the market and spent hours foraging. She did anything and everything to keep her restless mind at bay.

It worked at first. It always did. But eventually, her thoughts and fears broke through and she was in a state of anguish. It was the same when Geralt left but she had grown a sort of strategy to ease some of the worst thoughts. Like the one where she was certain that Geralt had died. That thought followed her through her restless sleep. It haunted her.

It haunted her that she may not be able to tell Geralt that she loved him and that whilst she was scared that he would hurt her again, she trusted him not to. That wasn't the issue, though. Not really. Her issue was trying to forgive him. She knew she could do it but she did not know how to. She was so close to the point of no return and nothing he said or could say would be able to change that fact.