Triss ran to tell the king everything we had learned. I helped Geralt prepare for tonight. He'd be on his own, and I didn't like that one bit.
"I could go with you," I had suggested.
And he had held my face gently between his two large hands, gazing lovingly yet intently into my eyes. "No. You'll stay here. It's too dangerous. And your curse... if I'm distracted even a fraction of a second, it'll be the death of both of us. I won't let that happen, Nienna. I promise you, I'll be careful."
That was the end of our discussion.
As night fell, I accompanied him almost all the way to the abandoned castle, the pit in my abdomen returned and I gasped. Even with the task ahead of him, he was more concerned about my wellbeing. He stopped and grabbed my arms.
"Nienna," he stared into my eyes. "Go back. Maybe Triss can help you. I'll be fine."
"But-"
"No, go back. I love you, don't forget that. Whatever happens tonight, my love, just remember that."
The tone of his voice made me anxious. "I love you too. Be safe," I choked out.
He smiled down at me, but it didn't reach his eyes, as they were filled with pain. One hand left my arm and softly caressed my cheek, pulling me in for a deep kiss, full of love and desperation. As he pulled back, I stood there for a while with my eyes closed. When I opened them, Geralt had turned as he made his way towards the castle and the striga. A tear slipped from my eye as I watched him, praying to every god I knew that it wouldn't have been the last time we have seen each other.
When I saw the guards leave from the bridge in front of the castle, I quickly turned and returned to Triss' chambers, not wanting to be confronted with the king and his guards – they probably still thought little of me for being half elven, and I couldn't deal with their insults or anything right now. All my thoughts were occupied with my husband and the fact he might die tonight.
The sorceress had been friendly enough to offer me a place to stay until – or if, but I didn't really want to think about that possibility – Geralt returned.
So I sat in the room, shaking from worry about my husband and the cramping in my abdomen, silent tears escaping my eyes ever so often as I stared into a flame of a candle, having lost focus a long time ago. I didn't notice the young sorceress sit down next to me until she spoke up.
"What is it? With you and the Witcher?" she asked softly.
"I'm his wife," I said with a shaky voice void of emotion.
Triss seemed surprised at that. "I thought witchers have no feelings. At least that's what everybody says."
"Absolute bullshit," I muttered, "He feels more than most humans."
"How so?" By now, Triss was trying to distract me.
"You may have noticed," I began, "I'm half elven. After the Great Cleansing, I found a small town in Aedirn to live in. I worked as healer. The people discovered I was an elf and after years of me helping them, curing their sick, they hired a witcher to kill me, claiming I was poisoning their children with my elixirs and potions. When Geralt came, he didn't kill me, he saw that the villagers were lying. He took me with him. That was twelve years ago. We've been travelling together since, falling for each other was just a matter of time, and three years ago, we finally got married. We- ah!" a sharp pain ripped through my lower body and my vision went black for a second.
"Are you alright? What is it?" Triss exclaimed as I fell to the floor, curling up in foetal position – over the months, I had discovered that it helped best with the cramps.
"A witch," I gasped out, "Cursed me. Some spell to make... me feel... like a dog... in heat. But if I... have sex... I'll die."
Triss remained calm while I was practically writhing on her floor. "Can you stand?" she seemed to be experienced in matters of emergency. It made me feel safe, in good hands.
I got up on shaky legs; she led me over to a bed and helped me sit down.
"How long have you been in this state?" she was all professional now, mixing together different ingredients for a remedy. Calm and focused, smelling on herbs and bottles, before shaking her head and setting it aside, or giving a small hum and adding it to the kettle.
"Three months."
"And you didn't do anything about it?!"
"I... I didn't know what... Today... today is the worst it had ever been."
She returned fixing the potion, chanting something in elder speech, but my brain was too clouded to pay attention. After what felt like hours, Triss turned back around, holding a bowl filled with a steaming, reddish liquid. It smelled... flowery? Not how I imagined a potion with the intended effect to smell.
"Here, drink this. You'll sleep for a few hours, and hopefully, the curse will be lifted. You're lucky it's a full moon tonight," she whispered, smiling at me and leading the bowl to my lips. My hands were shaking too much for me to drink on my own.
When she lowered the now empty bowl, I peered up at her, already feeling tired.
"Why are you helping me?" I slurred.
"It's the least I can do. No amount of coin could repay Geralt for risking his life the way he does for the king, maybe healing his wife will be at least a start," she whispered, softly stroking some stray hair out of my forehead. "Sleep now."
"Thank you," I whispered and fell into a dreamless sleep, but my whole body felt like it was on fire, then as if I was trapped in ice. My body felt like it was being torn apart in every possible way, until suddenly I felt nothing. I heard a chanting voice, whispering in elder speech. It were the same words Triss had chanted while fixing the potion. I still couldn't understand what she said, though. A comfortable numbness, as if I was floating, followed. A warm tingling sensation spread throughout my body, and I was starting to regain consciousness. With a gasp, I sat up. It was still dark out, shortly before sunrise.
"Geralt!" I whispered and hastily got out of bed.
It startled the sorceress, who had fallen asleep on the chair next to the bed.
"What are you doing?" she questioned sleepily.
"Preparing everything to get him out as sunrise," I said matter-of-factly, stuffing bandages into my backpack, strapping my sword to my back – just in case.
"I'll have the guards get a gurney ready and come to the castle as soon as possible," Triss said as she rushed out of the room. I followed her, but soon our ways parted as I ran towards the abandoned castle through the still dark night.
On the horizon, the sun lit the sky with its first beams, just as I reached the castle-bridge. The striga's screeching could be heard from miles away – at least with my elven ears. The screeching stopped suddenly, and the crowing of a rooster sounded from the town in the distance. I rushed into the castle, trusting my senses to find Geralt – I felt he was still alive, heard his slow heartbeat though the palace.
Sudden screeching made me pick up my pace even more. I heard struggling, panting, groaning. Was it possible that the striga hadn't been cured? I practically ran down the hallways now, my blade drawn. My husband may have wanted to save the princess, but if she had killed him, and was going to charge at me, I'd strike her down without a second thought.
It still took some time to find the crypt in the labyrinth of hallways and corridors. Once I reached the room, Geralt was lying in the middle, next to a pillar; no trace of the striga – or princess. He was covered in blood and dirt, but I was used to see him like that. What made my stomach turn and my heart drop, however, was the fact that blood was pouring out of his mouth – and not just a little. I wanted to rush to him, but a sound stopped me. I whipped around to find the source of the mixture of the whimper and hiss, my blade raised, and spotted a young girl, covered in mud, dirt and blood, holding her neck. She was cowering against the wall. The princess looked terrified.
I lowered my blade and walked a semicircle towards my husband. He'd need medical attention first, seeing the state he was in.
"I won't hurt you. Let me help him," I pleaded, not knowing if the girl would pounce. "I'll help you too, if you let me. You must be in pain." I kept my voice as calming as possible, holding my hands out in a soothing gesture. She seemed to calm down a little, seeing that I was no threat, clutching to the wound on her neck.
I fell to my knees next to Geralt and took in the whole extend of the damage on both his body and his armour. The leather was completely torn at the side of his neck, claw marks clearly visible. Underneath, hard to see with the black material of the witcher's tunic, blood spilled. Moving the fabric aside, a huge bite-mark was revealed, deep and nearly gushing blood. Only a little less was spilling from his lips.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Fuck! Stay with me! Geralt!" I wailed, cradling his bloodied face with one hand and pulling bandages from my bag with the other.
I heard footsteps approaching, as I pressed the bandage to the wound, trying to somehow stop the bleeding.
Triss stormed into the crypt, stopping when she saw me hovering over my seemingly lifeless husband.
"He's alive," I said, worry and relief lacing my voice. "Take care of her!"
I heard how she slowly approached the princess, talking to the girl in her ever so calming voice. "I'm not here to hurt you. Let me help you." I heard her mutter. She had the girl trust her in almost no time, covering her up with a blanket and having tended to her wound, she led the princess outside so the guards could bring in the gurney to get Geralt out and back to Triss' chambers.
I don't know what happened to the girl afterwards, as I refused to leave my husband's side. The whole way from the old to the new castle, I walked next to him, cradling his limb hand in mine. He was going to be fine. I knew it; because Triss seemed to be an amazing healer, so the two of us would manage it. We had to. Otherwise, I didn't know what to do with my life.