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Geralt shivered in the saddle as Roach turned the corner and trotted beneath the arch leading to Corvo Bianco’s main path, heading for her warm stable and hay.
It had reached the winter months in Toussaint, and despite not being anywhere near as harsh as the winters back in Kaer Morhen, it was still bitter enough to make his bad leg ache.
Geralt cursed himself as his teeth chattered. He had underestimated how long the contract would take. He had known that snow was approaching, seen the signs in the weather. Thinking that the contract would only take a day at most, he had set out with his armour and only the few necessary supplies he would need to complete it. When the contract had turned out to be far more difficult than he'd anticipated, he had been left to work and camp out in the worsening conditions.
He had been cold before, many many times before. Kaer Morhen was known for its harsh winters, and it had hardly been the first time he had been left out in the cold, when he had no other choice, or a bigoted innkeeper refused him entry.
But this time felt different. He didn’t know what it was. The cold made him shiver, frost clinging to the links of his armour, and an entirely different chill ran up his spine. Something was making him feel uneasy, and the fact that he couldn’t figure out what it was was making it all the worse.
Jumping down from Roach, he removed her gear and gave her a fond pat as she dug into her hay. Leaving the stables, he walked quickly up the path towards the house, eager to get into the warm and see Yen and Ciri again.
He opened the door and was immediately greeted by a huge grin and a cry of his name from Ciri. The young Witcheress launched herself at him for a hug. He laughed and picked her up off of the floor, making her giggle as her legs swung in the air.
“Put me down you big brute!” Ciri cried, slapping him on the shoulder playfully.
Geralt grinned at her, before finally putting her down. “Getting too big for me to pick up now anyway!” He teased. “Where’s Yen?”
Glaring at him for the comment, but with no real venom, Ciri pointed towards the kitchen. “She’s in there. She said she wanted to check we have everything we need for the winter but I bet she’s just in there for the warm fire really.”
Geralt chuckled. “You’re probably right. I should probably go see her. She’d have my head if I came back and didn’t tell her.” He patted Ciri on the shoulder and moved towards the kitchen.
Ciri watched him go before an idea popped into her head. She reached through the still open door and gathered a handful of snow, shaping it into a ball with a smirk. This would teach him to tease her so. She threw the snowball at his back and laughed as it exploded into white powder.
She wasn’t laughing for much longer.
A flash of a dark room. Hard stone walls covered in frost. A biting cold that he could feel in his very bones. Straps were holding him down, cutting into his wrists. Blood seeped from the wounds left by his struggles. Footsteps to his right. Light glinting off of heavy armour and the steel of a blade. Ice cold eyes gazing down at him. A horrible grin more terrible than any monster he had ever fought. He was scared. He wanted to go home. It hurt. Everything hurt. Why hadn’t anyone come for him? Where were his friends? Where was Yen? Why wouldn’t anyone help him?
“Well Witcher. Shall we begin?”
Geralt came back to himself with a start. He was curled up on the floor, back to the wall and shattered glass on the ground around him. He could hear his heart pounding, the blood rushing in his ears. Someone was screaming. Was there a monster nearby? Was it Yen or Ciri? Were they hurt? He couldn’t breathe properly. His throat hurt. Why did his throat hurt?
It was then that he realised that the screaming was coming from him.
Movement from beside him sent him scrambling further backwards, his head banging against the wall. The broken glass cut into his skin as he moved, leaving trails of blood on the floor. Yennefer froze where she had been crouching down beside him. Her expression was smooth and calm, but her eyes were worried. “Geralt, it’s alright. You’re at Corvo Bianco. You’re safe.”
Corvo Bianco? Not the cell? But why did he still feel so cold?
The screaming had quietened, turning into faint moans of distress that he couldn’t seem to stifle. Yen reached out a hand towards him and he flinched backwards. Pain flashed in her eyes at the sight of his terror and she pulled back, muttering a string of comforting nonsense at him in an attempt to calm him.
His eyes darted around the room as he tried to figure out what had happened. The room was in disarray, one of the tables on its side, glass ornaments and vases shattered into pieces, one of his swords was laying on the ground in the middle of it all. Ciri was stood not far behind Yen, leaning against the wall like she had tried to step back but then run out of room. Tears marked her cheeks. She looked scared. Ciri wasn’t supposed to look scared. Not of him. Never him.
Had he hurt her?
Geralt shook as he laid his head down on the floor, closing his eyes. He felt exhausted, his throat hurt and his body ached.
He slid his eyes open a touch and looked at Yen. She was still crouched beside him, speaking softly. Her violet eyes were warm and full of concern as she gazed down at him, hands hovering in the air above him.
He reached up with a trembling hand and weakly curled his fingers around hers. She grasped them gently, rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand with her thumb.
“Yen?” He croaked. “What happened?”
“It’s alright Geralt.” She soothed, hesitantly reaching out before carefully starting to stroke his hair. He allowed the touch this time. “You…. panicked. You lashed out and broke some things, but don't worry, no one was hurt.”
He sighed in relief at that. It had been terrifying to think they he could have hurt someone in that moment. That he could have hurt Ciri.
“It was my fault.” Ciri choked from behind Yen, hugging herself tightly. She was still pressed against the wall, her eyes full to the brim with tears of guilt.
“Ciri, what are you talking about?” Yen asked with a concerned frown.
“He was fine until I threw that snowball at him. That’s what caused this. It must be. This is all my fault.” She sniffled.
The sight of her tears sent daggers through Geralt’s heart. Moving as quickly as he could with Yen’s help he sat up, reaching an arm out towards Ciri.
The young Witcheress hesitated, fear in her eyes. She had already hurt him once. What if she did it again? But Geralt’s eyes were soft, those yellow eyes as warm as always and she flung herself down to her knees and into his arms with a quiet sob. “Geralt, I’m so sorry!”
Geralt wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head beneath his chin. He rocked her back and forth gently, like he had when she had woken up scared by nightmares when she was a child. “Shh, this isn’t your fault Ciri. None of this is your fault, I swear.”
Gloved fingers touched their shoulders before Yen wrapped her arms around them both, shielding them from the world. They sat there for a time, Ciri’s cries fading until the three of them sat there on the floor in content silence.
Yen kissed them both on the top of their heads before she finally spoke. “I think it’s about time we went to bed, isn’t it?”
Geralt nodded tiredly, giving Ciri one last squeeze before letting her go. Ciri moved away from him, sitting back as she wiped her red eyes with a sniff. She looked positively miserable as she looked at Geralt but she was able to return his small smile.
“Come on you two.” Yen said as she stood, reaching down to help both of them up. Yen led Geralt by the hand to their bedroom and sat him on the edge of the bed as she dug through their chest of drawers for something warm. She came up with a long sleeved shirt and a soft pair of trousers. Once Geralt had changed into them she sat on the bed beside him, pulling several blankets across him and fussing with the edges as she tucked him in. Geralt smiled at her fussing, freeing a hand from beneath the covers to catch hers.
“Yen.” She stilled at the sound of his voice, before smiling sheepishly. Yen laid down next to him on the bed, gazing lovingly into his eyes as she resumed stroking his hair.
Geralt closed his eyes, beginning to drift off to the feeling of her hand in his hair and the warmth from the blankets. Soon after, he felt a weight on the side of the bed as Ciri joined them, curling up behind him and hugging him as tightly as she could without disturbing him.
There would be much to talk about in the morning. But right now? As he lay between his lover and his daughter, the two people he loved most in this world, he finally began to feel safe again. And that was all he needed.