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A whimper cuts through the quiet of the night, pulling Geralt out of his meditation. His first thought, before he's even fully aware of what's happening, is danger. One hand on the hilt of his sword, he scans the camp, listening intently for any sign of a threat. There's nothing, just that fearful whimper again.
This time, his exhausted mind recognizes the sound as one he's heard before.
Ciri.
She's having another nightmare, for the fifth night in a row. Geralt wonders what it's about, what newest monster stalks her dreams. She's had no shortage of monsters in her short life, enough to fill a whole bestiary.
Ciri shakes beneath her blanket, swallowing another noise, even in sleep trying to hide. The acrid smell of fear coming off her grows stronger, stinging at Geralt's nose.
He should wake her, before her dream gets worse and she wakes up screaming. The last time she did that, she nearly blew out Geralt's ear drums and alerted anyone or anything within miles to their presence. They'd had to pack up and travel through the rest of the night and into the next morning to put distance between them and any pursuers.
But when she wakes from a nightmare, it can take hours for her to calm enough to fall back asleep. Geralt's a Witcher, he can go without sleep for weeks. He has been, actually, relying on meditation alone so he can keep guard more carefully. But Ciri's only human, and a young one at that. It can't be good for her to rest so little, even if he does let her doze off in Roach's saddle, leaning against his back to keep her balance.
It would be better to let her sleep, but he can't risk her nightmare continuing.
Fuck.
He doesn't know what to do.
Not for the first time, he wishes he wasn't alone. Jaskier had always been good with children, even if he claimed he didn't want any of his own. Yennefer would have helped, too. She had mind magic, perhaps she could soothe Ciri's nightmares, changing them to something more pleasant. Jaskier might have sung Ciri a lullaby, helped her fall asleep easily, even on the hard ground. Or Yen could just portal them to somewhere safe. Geralt had always hated portals, but for Ciri? He'd walk through them without hesitation.
Instead, he's on his own. And all Ciri has is Geralt. He'd just have to be enough.
Carefully, he puts a hand on Ciri's shoulder. "Shh," he whispers. "I'm here. It's alright." She quiets, but Geralt can still feel her trembling. He still doesn't know what to do, but he has to try.
So he starts singing. He starts haltingly, the words coming to him slowly. It's an old song, older than them both. If he tries hard enough, he can almost remember his mother singing it to him, but he can't be sure if that's anything more than wishful thinking.
His voice isn't meant for singing, he knows, but he tries anyway. He keeps quiet, toeing the line between loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that he would wake Ciri up.
Gradually, Ciri stops trembling, and her breathing steadies, the slow deep breaths of one fast asleep. The fear smell's faded away, and Geralt relaxes. He can't erase what's happened to her, might not even be able to keep her safe forever, but he can help with this.
If Ciri remembers the nightmare in the morning, she doesn't say, and Geralt doesn't mention it. They break camp and he gives her the last of the blueberries for breakfast, and then they're on their way. Each day closer to Kaer Morhen, closer to safety.
The nightmares don't stop, and Geralt doesn't expect them to. The next night Ciri cries in her sleep, and Geralt's heart breaks for her. But he moves quicker than the night before, the song coming easier, and she falls back into restful sleep sooner. The pattern continues, with Geralt singing softly, rough hand rubbing soothing circles over her back until the nightmare passes. They don't speak of it, but Ciri seems more rested than before, and no small amount of pride curls in Geralt's chest.
When they finally reach Kaer Morhen, Geralt nearly cries with relief. He'd done it. They're safe, the old walls of the keep protecting them. Vesemir welcomes them home, and the warm sunshine smell of happiness and safety wafting off Ciri betray her joy at having a home once more.
They set up her room across from Geralt's, clearing out the dust and cobwebs, and moving new furniture in. Vesemir sews her a poppet, and Geralt finally knows who snuck them into the boy's dormitory when he was young.
That night, Ciri nearly falls asleep at the table, the exhaustion from traveling up the mountain warring with her wide eyed excitement at Vesemir's stories. Geralt ends up carrying her up the steep stairs to her room, tucking her into bed and making sure the fire was stoked high enough to last through the night. She wishes him good night before he leaves, and he can hear her soft snores through the door almost immediately.
Perhaps the safety of the keep lulled him into a false sense of security, but Geralt doesn't expect another nightmare. He must have slept through her waking up, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. But he wakes when she knocks on his door, and he stumbles out of bed, still half asleep, to answer. The smell of fear still clings to her, and Geralt understands at once what had happened.
"Nightmare?" he asks, cursing himself for thinking they would have stopped.
Ciri nods, and Geralt's at a loss as to what to do. He'd helped her through a nightmare while she slept, but hadn't needed to comfort her after ever since he had stumbled on the singing.
Ciri takes a deep, steadying breath, then asks. "Could you sing to me, like you did before? Until I fall asleep again?"
Oh. He didn't think she knew about that. "Of course," he says. Anything for her.
He tucks her in again, but this time sits on the edge of the bed. He takes a moment to find his voice, somehow singing for an audience that's awake and watching him so much different than one that was asleep, even if it was always for Ciri. He closes his eyes and tries to settle his nerves. Once he starts, the words come easily, his rough voice turned soft for his daughter.
When the song draws to a close, he sneaks a look at Ciri, and finds her fast asleep. He tiptoes out of her room, easing the door shut as quietly as possible, wishing her a silent good night.