To Heal A Lonely Heart

Graverobber

He just gave me a sharp nod and a piercing glare, reminding me that I should stay put, while he crawled up to hide behind another tombstone guarding an empty grave.

I held my breath as the Graveir stomped past me, my grip around the handle tightening. A short peek over my shoulder made my blood freeze. It's been long since I last stood face to face with a monster. And this fella was an ugly, large thing.

I took deep, silent breaths as the Graveir found the grave that hosted his dinner tonight. But it wouldn't even get to have its last meal, so much was certain. Once it was distracted with digging up the dirt, Geralt snuck up behind, silver blade shining in the moonlight, raised and ready to strike. And strike he did. A long gash along the beast's back, making the thing roar in pain. The sound ripped through the night sky and a flock of panicked birds rose from their beds in the surrounding trees.

The monster turned and lunged for the Witcher, but Geralt spun out of its reach, swinging his sword and slicing its wrist. Another roar of pain. But the wounds didn't weaken the beast, they only made it angry. Over and over it lunged at Geralt. He dodged it every time, slicing and cutting at its thick skin, wounding it, but there were some very close calls here and there. I watched with baited breath, waiting for my husband to give me a sign, but he didn't. he kept fighting the beast on his own.

Its blood soiled the muddy ground, the stench making me gag. I really had gotten used to our peaceful life, forgetting what it was like to fight.

With horror, I watched as the Graveir pushed Geralt further back towards a grave with a large headstone. And then, with one strong swing of its arm, it sent him flying against the stone. A weak grunt escaped the Witcher's lips as his head hit against the hard surface and his eyes grew droopy. The beast stood above him, ready to crush Geralt with its fist. Geralt didn't give me a sign, but I couldn't just watch him being killed.

Panicked, I jumped out of my hidingspot, my own sword raised.

"Hey, ugly bastard!" I yelled. The Graveir whipped around, roaring, and started to charge at me. Before it could reach me, I held out my hand and created a barrier, which the beast ran straight into, falling on its back with a grunt. But it got up just as quick, surprising for its size, enraged by the pain and the fact that I came between him and his dinner.

It swung its arm at me, but I spun out of the way, brought my blade down and cut its hand clean off. It roared again and stumbled a few steps back. I was about to swing my blade again, but halted my movements when I heard a sickening squelching sound, followed by gurgling. The bloodied tip of Geralt's silver sword poked out from the beast's throat. Then it was pulled out and the Graveir dropped to its knees. Geralt swung his blade on last time and cut of the creature's head, making blood splatter into all directions. I cringed a little when I felt the hot, foul smelling liquid slash onto my face, but I shook it off.

The lifeless, headless body of the monster fell to the ground directly between Geralt and I. he was swaying on his feet a little, blood trickling down the side of his head and neck, but his eyes were clear and burning.

"I told you to wait for my sign!" he spat, but his words were slurred ever so slightly.

"And watch you be killed?!" I shouted back, worried at his current state. Geralt says nothing and just stomps past the stinking corpse. Before he could even reach me, his knees gave out and he stumbled slightly. Without much thinking, I rushed forward to catch my husband, huffing when his whole weight leaned onto me. With a quiet groan, he steadied himself, but kept his arm around my shoulders while I supported him. we took a few steps away from the dead body, before I sat Geralt down.

"You need to be completely honest with me," I told him firmly while inspecting the wound on his temple, "How bad is it?"

"No too – ah!"

"Sorry," I mumbled, pulling my finger back from the swelling. "Can you walk?"

"Hm."

"Alright, come on. We just have to get to the horses. And back at the inn I'll take care of that."

The way back to the horses was hard. Geralt kept stumbling and I wasn't strong enough to support him, really, so we ended up falling a few times. Luckily the young stable boy came to help us when he saw us struggling. Together, we heaved Geralt on top of Roach, where he slumped down against his mare's neck.

Back at the inn, I sat Geralt down on a chair and undressed him so I could assess all the damage done and start my treatment. He had a few bruises on his back, nothing too wild. It was his drowsy state that alarmed me most. The wound on his temple kept bleeding, bump forming, turning blue.

"This is going to hurt now," I warned as I brought a cloth drenched in potion to the wound, dabbing at the bump. Geralt groaned, hands shooting up to my hips to grab onto something, anything. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whispered and dropped the bloodied rag to the floor, cradling my husband's face instead. He was barely conscious and looked at me with tired eyes. "I just have to bandage it your head and then you can sleep," I promised, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. Geralt only hummed lowly while I did as I said.

Getting him to bed was a struggle again, his heavy legs refusing to support him, but ultimately, we managed. The moment his body hit the mattress the room was filled with his soft snores. I smiled to myself while I clean up everything I used for the potion, and then wash myself.

Blood was crusting my face and hands, and I had to scrub for it to come off. I undressed when I was done and collapsed onto the bed next to Geralt, careful not to touch his head. Tomorrow, when he was better, I'd bathe him. With the stare he was in earlier, I would have barely managed to get him into the tub, let alone out of it once he was cleaned up. No, we'd do that tomorrow. Now it was more important that he got his rest, got rid of the dizziness.