To Heal A Lonely Heart

Not The Wedding Night I Had In Mind

A tired groan made me turn around. Geralt had woken up, squinting at the soft light. I returned to his side, stroking a strand of hair out of his face, gently caressing his bruised cheek, careful not to apply too much pressure, worried I'd hurt him. With an appreciative hum, he nuzzled into my touch, his eyes, now used to the light, gazed into my own. He smiled slightly.

"How are you, meleth?" I whispered.

"So much better already," he rasped out tiredly. Oh, how I loved his sleepy-voice. His voice, like his face, showed no sign of pain. "Your potions... they taste fucking disgusting, but they work."

I blew a laugh through my nose. "I'll need to change the bandages. Can you sit up?" I asked after a moment of silence.

With much effort, and my help, Geralt managed to sit up against the headboard. I cut through the bandages, staring at his legs. They were still bruised, but the small cuts had healed already. Palpating them, I couldn't feel any broken bones. His pelvic bone looked the same. Luckily; if it had been fractured, even with his fast healing, we'd be stuck here for at least a month. His lower body wouldn't need any more bandaging.

As I cut the fabric off Geralt's torso, I was taken aback by the view, my eyes growing wide at first, then brows knitting together concerned. It wasn't as bad as it was yesterday, the cuts had healed, leaving thin white scars behind, but they'd go away sooner or later; the black and blue replaced by green and yellow mostly, but a few blue spots remained. Letting my fingers travel along the witcher's toned body, with my eyes closed, I felt for any broken bones.

"You seem to enjoy that way too much," a chuckle left my husband's lips.

I opened my eyes and poked a dark spot on his ribs, not too hard, only so much to let him feel his injuries were serious. He immediately stopped and winced a little.

"Seems like that's a nasty bruise," I said nonchalantly.

"Hm." He glared at me.

I giggled a little and led his arm to lie in my lap, cutting it free of the bandage. Just as I thought, the cuts had healed quite nicely, but the small patches of skin missing were healing rather slowly – in contrast to the rest of his injuries, that is. But even they looked like deeply scraped skin, with no raw flesh showing. Sighing, I got up and got the salve. Carefully I applied it to Geralt's wounds. He was trying his best to keep his arm from moving, but he twitched from time to time. It must still hurt badly.

"I'm sorry, meleth, but I have to do it," I whispered apologetically.

"I've had worse," he chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Don't worry."

I knew he was trying to cheer me up, but his statement made me think about the time before I met him. Back then he was all alone, no one would take care of him, heal him. He'd be lucky if a traveller or local took him in or got him to a healer.

I shook my head slightly, clearing it from my thoughts and concentrated on bandaging my husband's arm. I did the same with his other arm. It didn't look any different.

Once I was done I helped him to lay down again, then climbed onto the bed, my knees straddling his hips as I hovered above him, littering his face with soft kisses. When our lips finally met, I realized how much I had missed his taste in this one night and one day. It was the first kiss after he had left.

Too soon, I had to pull away. Golden eyes gazed up at me, dazed with love and longing.

"I'm sorry about our wedding night," he mumbled.

I smiled fondly down at him, leaned down to peck his lips before climbing off him and laying down next to him. "It wasn't that bad," I confessed. He cocked a brow. "I mean, I hate seeing you like this," I rushed out, "but you rarely let me take care of you. It was nice to be there for you like you are for me."

"I never have you drink potion that taste like piss," he protested. I giggled. "But I'll make it up to you. You'll get the wedding night you deserve."

"First you need to heal," I said, letting my finger run along his bandaged arm, partly for emphasis. "And to bathe," I added teasingly, scrunching up my nose.

"And you'll need one when I'm done with you; I promise you that, my love."

A shot of excitement went straight to my core at his statement, and I pressed my legs together. I'd have to wait. Now it was more important to get him healthy enough to return to the road.

With a yawn, I nuzzled my head into the pillow, my forehead resting against Geralt's shoulder.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered.

"Goodnight, meleth," I whispered back and fell asleep almost immediately, the fact that he was so much better even after one day calming my worried mind.