Chapter Text
“I can’t believe this is all you do when you go out on jobs,” Marle teased, looking out at the scenery in front of them. “We’ve been riding for days and haven’t come across much other than a few pockets of drowners.”
“Well, some of us aren’t gifted with creating portals to get where we want to go quickly, and we wouldn’t have even come across those drowners if you hadn’t insisted we stop to harvest those herbs you spotted.” Eskel raised an eyebrow and jerked his thumb behind his shoulder. “We did pass a village a few miles ago. If you’re that bored already, I bet they wouldn’t mind hosting a healer until I get back.”
She looked at him sharply, shaking her head when she noticed the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. “Oh no you don’t, Eskel. You can’t get rid of me that easily. I seem to recall you were the one to ask me to come along on this trip.”
His smile widened. “You would have followed me otherwise.”
Sitting taller in the saddle, she gave him a look. “I would not,” she countered, raising her chin. “I have plenty of other things to occupy my time than to travel with a witcher who is obviously unimpressed with his sorceress companion.” The haughty glare lasted all but half a second before her lips quivered and she laughed.
“You’re going to have to work on your indignant tone if you want that to be convincing,” Eskel told her, humor evident in his voice as he slowed Scorpion down once they approached a farmstead. “We’re here.” Eskel helped Marle off her horse before the two of them walked up to the main house. The door creaked open before he could knock and a woman’s face peered out suspiciously at them.
“Were you the one who put out the contract?” he asked.
The woman looked between them both and nodded. “I am,” she said, stepping outside. Marle might not have the keen senses that Eskel did, but she still heard a young child coughing from inside the house. It took everything in her not to say something, especially when the child coughed again and she could hear the phlegmy rattle in the loud inhalation of breath afterward.
Eskel seemed to sense her concern, because he took a step forward. “I’m Eskel, this is Marle. We’d like to get some details from you, if you’d allow us to come inside.”
The woman gave them both a nervous glance before jerking her chin in a curt nod. “Katya. I don’t have much,” she started, “but please, sit down.”
Marle decided to pipe up. “That’s an awful cough I hear,” she said quietly. She held up her left hand to display the amulet she had wrapped around her wrist. “I’m a healer with the Temple of Melitele. If you allow me, I can see to whoever is sick while you speak with Eskel.”
Katya looked at her with a shocked expression before bursting into tears. “Forgive me,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “It’s been such a hard time; I’ve only just buried my man and I’ve been so afraid that I’d have to bury my boy so soon after. I’ve been praying for a miracle, but I never believed my prayers would be answered.”
Eskel watched as Marle soothed the woman and followed her to another room. He could hear her speaking in low yet cheerful tones to a young boy, who answered as best he could between wheezes. He could also hear Marle quietly question Katya about the contract, so he took the opportunity to look out the window and observe the small homestead, trying to see if he could infer what sort of monster he was going to be dealing with. The contract itself hadn’t been very clear; all it had said was that there was something roaming about killing farmhands. There was plenty of land, but it looked as if it hadn’t been used to its full potential; while what was there was thriving, the fields that should have been full of crops were mostly bare. The wheat planted there was extremely high and what had been cut still needed to be bundled and stored away properly.
“Is there no one here with you?” he asked once she and Marle came back out. Marle made herself at home, filling a kettle before putting it on the hearth to boil. She then went back outside and started digging through her saddlebags until she came back with the pack of herbs she had been collecting while they traveled.
Katya shook her head sadly. “We used to have a prosperous farm.” Pointing outside towards a smaller house, she continued. “There was a man and his wife who helped my Nevin with the land and the animals, but he was one of the many who fell prey to the beast. After his death, his wife walked away with nary a goodbye. She left many of their belongings behind, saying they were cursed.”
“You said the farmhand was one of the many,” Eskel prompted. “How many men have died, and where?”
“There have been six total, counting my husband just last week. Nevin was the one who posted the notice after the second drowning, but no one has come by before you.” She took a breath and twisted her fingers in her lap. “There’s a large pond a mile away that’s always been good for fishing. One of the lads from the village was found floating face down on the surface. Everyone thought it was a horrible accident, but there weren’t any signs of a struggle or marks in the bank where he may have tried to claw his way back up. Two weeks later, one of our shepherds told another that he was going to fill up canteens while they were in the area. His friend found him dead, heard what sounded like a girl laughing too, but never saw anyone. That pond is evil, I say. Every one of those poor souls lost their lives there.”
Eskel tilted his head. “And before this, has there been any trouble around the pond?”
Katya watched as Marle found a large bowl and began crushing up herbs inside of it. “No, none. This land has always been good to us, and we’ve done our best to do good by it in return. Our farm isn’t as large as some others in the area, but we’ve always treated our workers well.”
“And most of your workers were men?” Eskel absently rubbed at the scar on his chin as he looked back out to the vacant fields, his mind going through possible suspects. “And the victims, did any of them happen to be married?”
“Yes all of them, save for the first boy. After the fourth drowning, the rest of the workers began to leave, fearing that they may fall prey next.” Katya jumped when the kettle began to whistle. Marle pulled it off the fire and held the bowl in her other hand.
“I can make a syrup that will quiet your son’s coughing,” she explained. “But in the meanwhile, I have a breathing treatment to help clear his lungs. Please, keep talking to Eskel, this won’t take long.”
Eskel watched as Marle went back into the room. It wasn’t long before the scent of the herbs intensified; he guessed she had poured the boiling water over them and had the boy breathe the steam in. Vesemir had done similar treatments to him and Geralt when they had gotten sick as young boys. He could hear Marle murmur comfortingly at the boy while she rubbed at his back.
Getting up from his seat, Eskel looked out the window again at the neglected field. “What you’re describing certainly sounds like a rusalka that’s gone rogue. This month is a prime time for them to be at the most active as well, but I highly doubt that it will show up if I head to the pond and order it to appear.” He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, his fingers catching on the dips of his scars. “I’m going to have to set a trap. Is the scythe you have for the wheat sharp?”
Katya nodded. “Aye. My man kept his tools in good working order.”
“And you said that the foreman’s house is abandoned? Would it be all right if Marle and I used it until the job is complete?”
Katya looked confused, but nodded anyway. “When will you start?”
“As soon as I can get the horses and our things settled.”
“The barn has stalls for your horses. There’s hay and water buckets there too.”
Eskel turned from the window and smiled. “Thank you. If things go the way I expect them to, you won’t have us as guests for long. When Marle is done tending your son, could you tell her where I went?” With that, he went outside and took both horses’ reins and led them into the barn. As promised, there were clean stalls and a supply of grain for each. Eskel tended the horses, taking his time to unsaddle and brush them both out before fishing an apple out of his saddlebag and cutting it in half with his dagger for both horses to share. Giving Scorpion’s head an affectionate scritch behind the ears, he shouldered both his and Marle's belongings and headed towards the small house nearby.
The interior of the place was tiny, but homey. There was a main sitting area that housed a pair of chairs close to a fireplace, the abbreviated kitchen stationed nearby. There wasn’t a door on the next room, but Eskel could make out a nice sized bed, the sheets crisply made and a warm blanket folded at the footboard.
He set their bags down on top of it. There was only one bed. He didn’t figure that he would get much sleep anyway with waiting to see if the ruslaka would show up that night, but he wondered if Marle would mind sharing it. Ever since the katakan hunt and the kiss she had given him a little over a year ago – not to mention the drugged confession of love she had murmured before passing out – their friendship had slowly turned into something more.
Hell, if Eskel was honest with himself, their friendship had been turning towards this for decades. He’d just been too worried to muddy it up with feelings that went beyond friendly overtures.
He was distracted from his thoughts by the front door opening. Even without turning around, the soft floral scent that always clung to Marle told him who it was.
“Katya told me you were settling down here,” she said, looking around the home. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I got some more information out of her. The rusalka is preying specifically on married men, workers from this farm almost specifically. I’m going to act as if I’ve been hired on in the hopes that it’ll take the bait and come out.”
Marle tilted her head, eyes widening in understanding. “Oh.” Without saying anything else, she knelt at the hearth. A flick of her fingers had the remnants of the wood there flare to life.
Sensing her distress, he put a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything,” he assured her. “I…”
She laughed. “You don’t have much experience being married, do you?” She added another few slivers of wood to the fire and looked up at him. “I’m not against the idea of playing your wife, it just took me by surprise is all.” She rose and began to look through the supplies in the pantry. Just as Katya had said, all the dry goods were still in place, almost as if the foreman’s wife would return at any time.
Eskel shed his armor and weapons, placing everything underneath the wooden bedframe. “I’m going to see to the wheat field. The day’s still young enough that I can cut the rest and start gathering them up for drying before nightfall.”
Marle nodded. “Then I’ll get to preparing lunch.” She reached up and gently tucked Eskel’s medallion under the neckline of his shirt, her fingers lingering over his chest a little longer than necessary. “I’ll call for you once it’s ready.”
The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed quickly. While the small loaf of bread Marle had made was baking, she discovered a small wooden table underneath a tree directly outside their borrowed house, Since the day was nice, she decided to set their lunch up there. There hadn’t been many fresh things in the house’s cold cellar, but Marle already had a hunk of meat slowly simmering in a cast iron pot on a hook over the fire for dinner. She’d scavenged up some fruit preserves and honey from the pantry, so along with the freshly baked loaf of bread, a selection of fruits, slices of cheese and dried meats from their travel staples, she had conjured up a pretty satisfying lunch. The two of them had lingered under the tree’s shade, their conversation as easy as it had always been. She noticed that Eskel had added in a little more flirtatious banter than he usually did, more than likely for the rusalka's benefit to lure it out of hiding faster, but she didn't mind. Marle had to smile at the slightly surprised way Eskel had looked up at her when she bent over and kissed his cheek, her lips brushing against the corner of his mouth. It was only for a moment, but he quickly recovered, helping her bring the dishes back into the house, his hand quickly bringing hers to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
There wasn’t much for her to do after washing and drying the dishes from lunch, so after tidying up, tending to dinner and checking in on Katya’s son, Marle found herself wandering into the field to help Eskel tie the cut wheat into sheaves. The sense of domesticity that fell over them as the day went on was something Marle hadn’t felt in years. She welcomed the sensation, even as it left her feeling out of sorts and slightly bittersweet.
“So, did anything happen that you noticed today?” Marle asked, lighting candles in the candelabra that hung over the small dining table.
Eskel unhooked the pot from the fire and used a nearby padded potholder to lift the lid once he had the pot on a metal trivet on the dining table. Taking the bowls and a ladle Marle handed him, he served them up generous portions, closing his eyes to appreciate the mouthwatering smell of stew. “A few good signs,” he said, setting the bowls on the table and turning to take the cutting board with thick slices of bread Marle must have made earlier that day as Marle pulled out a bottle of wine from their food pack he remembered them picking up in the last village they had made a supply run in. “My medallion buzzed a few times after lunch, and I could have sworn I heard a woman laugh right before sundown.” He’d also glimpsed the faintest reflection of a woman in the bucket of water before he had upended it over his head to cool off as the sun beat down on him. He had figured that they would have to stay for a few days, but this initial contact was promising. It had been several days since the ruslaka’s last victim; she seemed to be eager to add him to her pond.
He tucked into the stew. “This is really good.”
Marle smiled, absently stirring her portion with her spoon. “Thank you. It’s a recipe I learned in Skellige. It was…” she stopped, setting the spoon aside and reaching for a slice of bread, fingers busy tearing at it. “It was a favorite.” The venison she’d found in the cellar downstairs had been a tougher cut of meat and her hands had automatically started assembling the stew on their own, old habits taking over without her having to think about it.
They ate in companionable silence, broken only by light conversation on the day’s events and observations about the farm. Eskel surprised her by clearing the dishes and pumping water into the basin, saying that it wasn’t fair for the cook to also clean. For June, the weather was uncharacteristically cool, and without anything else to do for the evening, Marle sat closer to the fireplace and tugged a shawl she had found in a chest by the bed over her shoulders.
Eskel sat in the opposite chair, pretending to read the book he had pulled from his pack while watching as Marle unbound her hair and began running a comb through it, quietly humming a song underneath her breath as she worked.
“You’re staring,” she teased.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair like that before,” he confessed.
“I don’t like having it in my face, especially when it comes to mixing up potions or tending patients. I should cut it, but I’d miss the length.” She started to separate her hair in preparation for braiding it down her back, but since Eskel was still staring, decided at the last minute to keep it unbound. “A woman has to have at least one point of vanity.”
“It’s…different.” In all the years that he’d known her, he’d seen her style her hair in multiple variations of braids, buns, and ponytails, but he’d never seen it down and around her shoulders. She’d taken off her vest and her boots some time ago, and seeing her sitting there at the fireside with her hair loose and feet bare next to him felt…homey. Domestic.
“Do you remember your parents?” he asked abruptly, closing the book and setting it on an end table.
Marle’s comb slowed down. “Not really. I was nine when I went to the Academy, and travel wasn’t very feasible with trying to run their shop. We exchanged plenty of letters though, and they were always pleasant and things that I looked forward to reading, I do remember that.” She worked a tangle out. “I remember little things: my father always smelled like celandine and tobacco. He would take me out with him sometimes, teaching me how to identify different plants in the wild. My mother used to sing while she sewed and she gave the warmest hugs.”
Eskel crossed his ankles and stared into the fire. “I don’t remember much about my mother, just some snippets of an old song she used to sing. Vesemir told me once that she had dark hair and brown eyes, and that we had looked very similar.”
“People used to say the same about my mother and me.”
“Then she must have been very beautiful.”
Marle set the comb in her lap. “Why the sudden questions about my parents?” she asked, looking up at him.
Eskel shrugged. “You seemed very…” he struggled for the right words. “Comfortable today. I figured that you remembered how your parents acted together when we were out there…”
“Pretending to be married?” she supplied. She shook her head. “I may be out of practice, but I do have some firsthand experience on how to act like a wife.”
Eskel stared up at her as she rose and closed the shutters to the windows, a hand absently waving over the candles near the sill to extinguish their flames. “You…you’re married?” It was a first for him, and he suddenly had a hundred questions buzzing in his head: who is he, how did they meet, and most importantly, if she was married, why did she lead him to believe that she was available?
Marle held the shawl tighter around her. “I was married. My husband’s been gone nearly fifty years now.” She took advantage of their swapped height difference and pressed a kiss to Eskel’s forehead, her fingers carding through his hair at the back of his head. “I’m tired. Come to bed when you’re ready.”
He listened to the swish of fabric and laces as she undressed, the ropes in the mattress creaking ever so slightly as her weight settled onto the bed. A casual wave of his hand extinguished the last of the candles and he poked at the fire to settle the coals so that it would still burn through the night and warm up the home without needing constant tending. He stepped outside, ears alert for any sign of danger, and checked up on the horses one last time. Finding the night quiet and uneventful, he returned to the house and latched the lock shut.
Marle was still awake when he carefully sat on the side of the bed to remove his boots. “You’re all right with sharing? I could…”
She rolled her eyes. “The bed’s big enough for two people, Eskel. I won’t have you sleeping on the floor when you’ve already put in a long day of work.”
Eskel shook his head. “I seem to recall getting a lot of help from someone with all that work.”
“Which is why I’m not sacrificing my side of the bed to sleep on the floor either.” Marle stared at his profile as he settled into bed, his added weight causing the mattress to dip slightly, making both of them slide just a bit closer to the middle. “His name was Bjorn,” she said quietly. “I met him when I first went to study under an herbalist in Skellige. He was a huntsman who had been injured by a bear he had been trying to rid the village of and we just…”
She rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. “I was too busy trying to learn everything I could, but he was so persistent and so sweet that I couldn’t resist him. He’d stop me to say hello or talk whenever he saw me in the village and would come by with extra meat from his hunts or handfuls of wildflowers and herbs that he thought I’d find useful.” She laughed. “I remember this one time, he showed up with a basket full of cuttings. The look on his face when I told him they were poison ivy…he had blisters on his hands and arms for days, and I felt so guilty that he had gotten them because of me. It didn't take much for him to court me once the ice was broken. We were married the next year, and stayed married for five years.”
Eskel shifted to his back as well, his shoulder brushing hers. “What happened?”
“There was an accident. He left home one morning and never came back.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
They were quiet for a while, Eskel listening to the sound of her breathing. “You must have loved him greatly.”
There was a pause before she answered. “I did. I loved him very much. In a way, I still do. You don’t get over losing someone like that; some days it just gets easier to bear the loss is all.” She shrugged her shoulders as she tried to find the words to fit how she felt. “There are days when it feels as if hearing the news that Bjorn had died was just yesterday. Then there are days where I have to wrack my brain to remember what he looked like, or where I struggle to remember the sound of his voice. When daily things push memories to the back of my mind, I can almost forget that I had ever been married. Those are the worst ones, and I feel so guilty for them." Marle sighed. "I don’t get to pick and choose when those days come; all I can do is work my way through the grief and trust that things will eventually be better. I’d be doing Bjorn’s memory a disservice if I only lived in the past and didn’t look to the future.”
She rolled to her side, her back facing him. Eskel listened as she quietly licked her lips, the sheets shifting as she tugged them close. “And Eskel?”
“Yes?”
“Just because I loved my husband and still hold him in my heart doesn’t mean that there isn’t room enough for you there too.” She looked over her shoulder. “I wanted you to know that.”
Eskel listened as Marle eventually drifted off to sleep. It wasn’t long before the sound of her heart and the floral scent that clung to her hair lulled him under as well.
Eskel’s eyes snapped open at the sound of someone running down the gravel path leading to the house. He had a moment where he didn’t know where he was: Marle was curled snugly against him, her back fitted to his front. Her head was pillowed by his left arm and his right held her tightly, their fingers intertwined. Marle jumped a few seconds later than he did, her hand going up to push her hair out of her face.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice groggy as she sat up when someone began to pound against their door. Eskel didn’t need candlelight to see how her blouse had slipped off one milk-pale shoulder and he had the strongest urge to ignore whoever was pounding on the door and nuzzle his lips there instead, potential danger be damned.
“Stay here,” he told her, getting up and pulling his sword out from underneath the bed. He crept to the front room, muscles tense and alert. He relaxed a bit when he heard Katya on the other side of the door.
“Please,” she said breathlessly when he opened the door, “my boy…”
Eskel could hear Marle shoving her feet into her boots, not even bothering to lace them all the way. “What’s wrong?” she asked, securing the ties to her pants. She was still sleep-rumpled, but he could tell that she was alert and in healer mode. “Has his breathing gotten worse?”
Eskel handed Marle the bag of herbs that he knew she would be looking for. “Do you need me to stay?” he asked as they quickly walked the short way to the main house. He didn’t know how much help he would be, but he heard the wet, rasping wheezing coming from the bedroom and knew that Marle would have her hands full.
Marle set the bag on the kitchen table and began pulling out herbs. “No, but thank you for the offer.” She paused long enough to cup the side of his face in her palm, her thumb caressing his cheek. “You should go back to bed and get some sleep. There’s a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”
Eskel closed his eyes and leaned against her hand. “I’m sorry for earlier,” he told her, his fingers curling loosely around her wrist. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”
“You didn’t.” She moved away and put the kettle on the hearth to boil. “But I did mean what I said, I hope you know that.”
He watched as she mashed up more herbs in the mortar she kept in her bag. “I do.” He was turning to leave when she called him back.
“For what it’s worth,” she started, eyes firmly on the bowl of the mortar in front of her. “I think he would have liked you.”
He nodded, not knowing what to say to that. Not wanting to be in the way, Eskel backed out of the house and walked back down the path.
He made another patrol of the property, the quiet countryside silence still unbroken. He checked on the horses, Scorpion giving him no indication that he sensed anything amiss. Sitting alone in the dark living area quickly became tiresome; he had to shake his head as he nearly jumped at any little creak or moan the old house gave as it settled on its foundations. Finally giving up, Eskel wandered back to the bed. Thinking to give Marle some room to slide in once she was finished caring for the boy, he scooted over to the side that she had been sleeping at.
It was a mistake. Even though she hadn’t been there long, the pillow still held the scent of her hair. The sheets may not have retained the warmth of her body, but it was easy for Eskel to imagine her there with him. He groaned as he deliberately gave a deep inhalation of her not quite floral, not quite herbal fragrance and closed his eyes. There is room in my heart for you, Eskel, she had told him.
He fell asleep believing it.