Kyana Of Cintra

41

Kyana had all but dragged Jaskier upstairs, the door slamming open and waking Geralt, who shot upright. His eyes frantically searched the room, watching Kyana place Jaskier into the armchair in the corner while a stranger walked in after her. Geralt shot up and out of bed, immediately reaching for his sword. He looked up at Kyana, who held her dagger furiously at the strangers throat against the wall. 

"Who are you?" She growled. "What do you want with me? Why do you cause such unrest?" Geralt came behind her, a hand on her shoulder. 

"What's wrong? Who is he?" Kyana turned to Geralt, her eyes bright with fury. 

"If I knew, would I be asking who he was?" Kyana faced the man again, who's skin glowed a light brown in the moonlight. "He turned all of the people in the tavern against Calanthe. He convinced them I was supposed to be on the throne." Geralt's face molded into shock. 

"What? But you're only royal on your mothers side. You can't be queen." Kyana's answer was screamed bitterly. 

"I know." Geralt had seen Kyana for years, but she was never, ever this angry. Although steam practically rolled off of her body, her mind, flashes of stress, frustration, and fright gathered in her beautiful silver eyes. "I don't want to be." The green eyed man against the wall looked gentler than she thought he had earlier, seeing the evident distress on her face. Geralt eased his hands onto Kyana's shoulders, desperately trying to keep her calm at all costs. He knew if she was angry and upset, she'd start swinging that dagger until she got answers. 

"Kyana." He whispered, low enough just so that she could hear. His tone was gentle as his touch attempted to remove her from the throat of the stranger, soothing her as best as he could when he didn't understand why she was so upset.

"No." Kyana lurched away from him, when all she wanted was to let him comfort her with his touch as she had done so many times over the years for him. Kyana, eyes blinded with rage, held the dagger up to protect herself when Geralt advanced. He soon stopped, holding both of his hands up slightly in surrender. "Please don't come near me, I'm so angry and I don't want to hurt you."

Geralt's heart yearned with pain when he saw how completely gone she looked. "Kyana, please, put the dagger down. A few villagers and random, drunk men will do nothing-" Kyana cut him off, anger so strong in her voice, for a small moment Geralt feared her. 

"You don't know what this feels like, Geralt! Ten years ago I was all but invisible! Now people want me to be Queen? I was never meant to be Queen, ever! I just found my family after decades of running, and now parts of Cintra wants me to betray said family for an unwanted throne?" Geralt was unsure weather to carry on walking towards her or stay where he was. Her heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears, a constant reminder of the fury that coursed through her veins.

"I know, Kyana, I know. No one is asking you to take the throne, I'm not asking you to take it." The fiery anger dimmed in her eyes when she looked at him, but she was still far from calm. "All I'm asking is that you put the dagger down and come to me." Kyana was shaking, either with anger or some deeper problem. "Please." He begged her, something she had never heard such a strong and independent man do. "Come to me."

A small pause.

The dagger fell out of Kyana's grasp and onto the floor. It landed with a loud thud, metal against wood. No one moved, no one spoke. The only sound filling the room was Kyana's breathing. Her eyes were closed, her head, her hands, the entirety of her body shaking with anger and mixed feelings. She breathed heavily in, exhaling it through her mouth, calming her erratic heart and breathing. Once Geralt was sure she was calmer, he used his foot to grab the tip of his blade, pulling it towards him on the floor and then kicking it over to the other side of the room, where Jaskier sat snoring. Kyana's breathing returned to normal, her heartbeat calm, and her eyes began to open. 

"I apologize." Kyana stated strongly. Had Geralt not been there just two seconds ago, he wouldn't have had any thought of how angry and upset she just was. The change was unnerving, and it worried both Geralt and the stranger. "I lost my temper." She turned to the man with green eyes. "What is your name?" 

"My name is Elias of Zerrikania." Kyana nodded. 

"Well then Elias, do you have a room for the night or are you here for the tavern?" Elias avoided looking at Geralt, who was confused. This man reeked of nobility, of someone well informed of all matters, including Kyana. Geralt didn't like it. 

"I have a room, I'm staying in Room 8." Room 8 was down the corridor, far enough from Geralt and Jaskier, but close enough to be able to be watched. 

"Very well. You will come here tomorrow morning, and you will tell me who you've turned and where those people are. I fear I am too angry to hear you fairly, and it has long passed midnight." Elias nodded, not arguing with her all but demand. 

"Of course. I will see you both tomorrow." Elias said, making a swift exit and closing the door gently behind him. Wordlessly, Kyana picked the sleeping Jaskier's arm up and placed it around her neck, half dragging half carrying him to his room while her limp worsened. She placed him on the bed, leaving the key on his bedside table, and returned to her room.

Once the door was closed, Kyana began removing the cloak from her shoulders, placing it gently back on the hook. "We need to pack, if he causes an uprising then we need to be ready to leave immediately." Kyana said coolly, moving to the bags placed next to the writing desk and shoving the letters, ink and quill, and her book into it, folding her reply and leaving it as the only thing on the desk. Next was the dagger, which was returned back into the sheath Kyana still wore around her thigh. She undid the buckle, hooking one of the loops onto the same hook as the cloak. 

The room was practically bare, accept for the bags and the clothes Kyana had folded on the chest besides the bed for morning. Geralt was unnerved by her sudden calmness, gripping her gently by both of her shoulders. He looked her in the eyes, hers cold and unfeeling, while his were warm and concerned. Geralt moved her towards the bed, sitting her down next to him. Neither said a word; their eyes said enough. Slowly, under the reassuring, non-judgmental gaze Geralt provided her, brick by brick the emotional wall Kyana had built came crumbling down. Tears threatened to spill in her eyes, which she looked downwards to hide. 

Geralt's hand lay on her cheek, tilting her face upwards so that her gaze may meet his again. His soft touch was so delicate on her skin, she barely even felt it. His voice, for a man so huge, was so soft and gentle. "You never, ever have to hide from me." With those simple words, Kyana burst out into tears. Geralt pulled her close, her head resting on the side of his shoulder, while his chin lay on top of her head. It was then that he saw something he never thought he would. He saw the strongest person in the world crumble.

And he couldn't do anything but watch.