"Geralt?" he heard Ciri walking down the stairs even before he saw her. He sighed, trying to muster up some energy to not look totally dead inside.
"Yes, Ciri?" he answered and watch her walk towards him. Her hands were fiddling with the hem of her shirt, her shoulders were slumped a little and she looked guarded as she pierced him with a slightly blaming look.
"Why didn't you tell me about Jaskier?" she asked and Geralt almost flinched when that name was thrown at him again. There was apparently nobody who didn't know his unicorn-bard. Shit, not his. He lost that right two years ago, even if he ever did have it. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead feeling the tightness of his skull.
"You knew him?" he decided to ask. Better find out now.
"Of course. He came to sing to me almost every year. Stayed for a week or so every time when I was back at Cintra," she said, still looking straight at him as Geralt felt another pang of guilt. He felt his eyes sting a little but didn't give in this time. Why the hell did the bard have to be so... everywhere? Caring? Kind?
He could see his blue eyes shine bright, a wide smile on his face, as he told him that he had to run some errands and to meet then and there again. The thought of Jaskier visiting Ciri never even crossed his mind, as he was trying to ignore the existence of his child surprise and thought that the bard finally understood and did the same. The bard, of course, knew better than him. He was actually there for Ciri even before everything went to shit.
"Geralt? Are you there?" his head snapped up to see Ciri still staring at him.
"Yeah, I just... We didn't part on the best note. To tell you the truth, I was... really, really mean to him. So I didn't think I had much right to speak about him. To anyone," he gulped, suddenly feeling smaller than he was.
"Then apologize! You have to make up!" she looked at him with determination and he noticed with alarm that there were tears forming in her eyes.
"He doesn't deserve for people to be mean to him. You have to make up, before... before it's too late!" she sobbed suddenly and came into his arms, hugging him.
"You went to see him?" Geralt felt his throat tighten, as he tentatively wrapped his arm around her small shaking frame. Ciri nodded and the witcher closed his eyes. He messed up. He threw away the one person in his life that always tried to help, and hurt not only him but all the others who knew him. He hurt Ciri, who would lose her friend. He hurt Vesemir because the old wolf obviously cared. And he hurt himself by leaving his bard, and essentially killing the person he cared about the most.
"I'm sorry," he said but Ciri shook her head.
"Apologize to him, not me," she pushed herself away from him and looked straight into his eyes.
"Promise me, Geralt. Promise me, that you will apologize," she urged him on and he took a deep shaky breath. After all, this was the least he owed the bard after all those years.
"I promise."