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"Early this morning
When you knocked upon my door
Early this morning
When you knocked upon my door
And I said hello Satan, ah
I believe it is time to go
Me and the devil walkin' side by side
Me and the devil walking side by side
And I'm gonna see my man
Until I get satisfied
See, see, you don't see why
And you would dog me 'round
See, don't see why
People dog me around
It must be that old evil spirit
So deep down in your ground
You may bury my body
Down by the highway side
You may bury my body
Down by the highway side
So my old evil spirit
Can Greyhound bus that ride
So my old evil spirit
Can Greyhound bus that ride"
Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin
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Hestia could not remember how much time had passed since it all began.
In her head the time varied, sometimes it seemed like days had passed, sometimes it seemed like decades. Her memory was still faulty and her head was a mess, which was to be expected, after so long staring at the walls formed by blocks and blocks of stone all she could see was emptiness.
Her eyes hurt from the light hitting the snow and reflecting the luminosity that almost blinded her, but it was all she had, the view behind the bars of a tower, the trees covered in piles of snow that slid down their long, dense branches, the horses riding leaving the marks of their horseshoes in the snow forming a path that by now Hestia knew well, from seeing every day the soldiers going back and forth taking the same routes every time.
The worst part was the overwhelming cold.
As much as her body produced more heat and kept her warmer than humans, her body still had its limits. And if there was anyone who knew this well, it was Letus. Letus knew Hestia's physical and mental limits, he knew what to do to make her weaker, to destabilize her, to put out her fire and make her tame. Even with so many years separating the last time they shared the same environment, even though Hestia had grown, matured and developed her powers even more, having control and mastery in her art, some old tricks still worked on her, mainly the cold and the water, both being a cruel and powerful mix to tame her.
Letus made sure to always keep Hestia's body wet, including her clothes, and to give her a well-ventilated "room" so that the cold breeze would petrify her and keep her fire under control. No one climbed the tower unless they had his permission, Letus' greatest fear and biggest nightmare was that any form of heat would get close to Hestia and give her the opportunity to escape once again, no, he would not accept letting Hestia escape his cold and cruel fingers once again.
Hestia felt crystallized, frozen in time, trapped under a dense layer of ice that pushed her down into the cold dark lake. She was a little bird, her wings were frozen, so she couldn't fly, she couldn't even move, because her body was squeezed between the hands of powerful and cruel people, she was helpless, at least that's what she believed until she saw Geralt, as a vision from her past, wondering if this was even real, because she didn't know if she was imagining or if this was reality, her mind seemed to be sunk in a strong fog that prevented her from seeing correctly, from thinking properly.
She believed she was hallucinating when she saw Geralt almost like a mirage in front of her, she wanted to run to him, even though she had so many unresolved issues and feelings towards him, yet, her first instinct was the overwhelming desire to want to be in his arms, because wanting it or not, she denying it or not, yet, Geralt was her safe haven, in his arms she found security, in his neck the smell that calmed her, in his hands the compass to follow the path she really wanted and the feet that guided her when she felt she was sinking.
The denial was real, the way she tried not to think about him, not to remember the good memories she had with him, how he made her feel at peace for the first time in decades, how good it felt to wake up with his warm body next to her, how he made her laugh, and what a miracle it was when she saw a smile form on Geralt's lips, lips she loved so much, licking them, as if theywere bathing in honey.
She wanted to pretend that none of that had ever happened, she wanted to be able to forget that she had ever fallen in love with a witcher who wanted to kill her, and that that hatred had turned into a love so sincere and strong that it was almost palpable. But it wasn't possible, because every time she closed her eyes there he was, with his golden iris staring at her, because when she tried to calm down when the despair of knowing that that was her current life came, it was thinking about his smell that calmed her down, because when she hugged herself to try to alleviate the cold, it was in his hands wrapping her that she thought.
There was no escape, Geralt was everywhere she looked, in every dream she had, even in the stories she made up in her head to make her life more bearable. It was him, unfortunately, he was the one who completed her, he was the one who completed her destiny, and she knew it well, as much as the betrayal of being abandoned so long ago still hurt like a million bee stings, as much as remembering his disappearance was like a dagger straight through her heart, she still loved him.
So when she saw him, as she had seen him so many times before they first met, she couldn't believe it was real. And in the blink of an eye all her anger was gone. And she wanted to run to him, wanted to throw herself into his arms and ask him to take care of everything, but she didn't even have the strength to stand up, so she didn't, so only her eyes met his and she finally managed to say something, because she seemed to have taken a vow of silence since she had been captured by Nilfgaard.
Even after the most horrifying tortures the human mind could think of, no matter how many times they threatened to destroy everything and everyone she loved, no matter how much they blackmailed her, threatened her, mistreated her, it had been five years since Hestia had opened her mouth, because she would never, ever put those she loved at risk, not even if her blood was spilled to keep her secrets hidden.
Not that she knew much, she didn't even remember much about the day she was captured. She only remembered pushing Geralt and Ciri inside the portal, the sight of their terrified looks on her as if it were a farewell, her end, a last goodbye after so many meetings and mismatches. Next, the Nilfgaardian soldiers in flames. She remembered the scene perfectly, the flames so high they seemed to touch the sky, the smell of burning skin, the agonizing screams of those who would soon become only ashes, until the fire diminished, the flames became lower. Oh, how she wished that explosion had been enough to contain them, but they were so many and so powerful that not even her greatest attempt, her greatest burst of power, could stop them.
She fell to her death on the ground, her body collapsing into the dry earth, the moisture having all been evaporated by the heat. She only awoke days later, in a cell in her current 'home', a castle far from everything and everyone, near the border with Skellige, one of Nilfgaard's many castles.
She was immediately taken to meet her mortal enemy, a despicable man who had taken the life of her best friend, Fiona. She was taken away in chains, her hands, feet and neck, wet from head to toe, there wasn't even a fire burning and everyone present in the great hall of the castle was heavily covered to protect themselves from the cold that came in from the main doors.
She remembered being dragged, following a long red carpet until she reached his throne, the throne of Thomas of Nilfgaard, with his white hair and gaze bathed in greed and revenge, the sincere smile that took over almost his entire face, the smile of a victorious man.
The truth is that Thomas never thought that this day would come, the day he would finally have his revenge for everything Hestia de Aretuza had done. It had been so many years of hunting her, so many years of looking for her, so many years of his thirst for revenge only increasing, and now? Now he had her handcuffed and could do whatever he wanted with her. He wanted to make her suffer, he wanted to see the pain in her eyes, he wanted to slit her throat right there, watch the witch's head fall and roll on the floor to her feet, as had happened to Fiona.
And the temptation was great, to kill her right there, at that moment, but by his side, Thomas had a new and strong ally.
Letus.
It was Letus who convinced Thomas to keep her alive, promising all kinds of torture and the worst methods to extract the power from her. Letus was a great Sweet talker, he was a born manipulator and knew very well how to convince even the smartest to listen to his voice, and this is what he did with Thomas. The deal was this: as long as Hestia suffered, Letus could do whatever he wanted with her, and if he made some great discovery, if he knew how to extract or use Hestia's powers, then Nilfgaard would take advantage of it.
And those were Hestia's last five years, chained atop a tower, being sure that everyone thought she was dead, that no one missed her, that she was never truly loved, thinking of moments in the past, moments with Fiona, with Yennefer, with Tissaia, with Serena, with Jaskier, and especially with Geralt and Ciri.
Hestia only hoped that she could see them one last time, before she met her end. But until then, it was her and the devil. Day after day. She and the devil.