It took three days for the wounds to heal, for the bleeding to fully stop. Triss and I worked day and night. It had taken almost two hours alone to clean Geralt from all the mud, so that the wounds wouldn't infect.
While Triss mixed potions, tinctures and salves, I washed my husband's hair and stitched his wounds, especially the ones on his face. In all the time I've been with him, this must be the worst he's ever looked after a hunt – even the golem-incident was only a minor injury to this. The striga had barely missed his artery when she bit his neck. If we hadn't been there fast enough, he would have bled out.
We had tried to wake him, leaning over him and saying his name. To no avail. All he did was mutter one word, over and over. Renfri. There must be something more about her except the guilt he still felt for killing her.
After the second day, Triss and I took turns watching over the sleeping witcher, applying tinctures and changing bandages. Triss often used her breaks to run errands for the princess, organizing for her to stay at the nearby temple.
At dawn of the third day, I, exhausted from being awake for two days, worry keeping me awake, finally collapsed on the bed next to Geralt. Even in my sleep, I heard him mutter the name over and over – Renfri.
I woke up a few hours later, Geralt next to me still asleep. His face was grimaced in pain; sweat a thin layer glossing his skin. The bandages had bled through again. I changed them, cleaning his wounds while Triss mixed another tincture.
"He heals nicely," she mentioned as she glanced over my shoulder, taking in the extent of the injuries to adjust the amount of medicine needed.
"But not fast enough," I mumbled, worry still prominent in my voice. He'd be fine, I knew that, but it would take a while. "Usually he heals faster."
"Nienna," the sorceress said, her calming voice serious as she held my shoulders, turning me around to face her. Her chocolate stare held mine. She had a reassuring smile on her face. "He is strong. You must know that better than anyone else. He will be fine. The fact that he's alive must be proof enough. A human wouldn't have survived."
I sighed. She was right. But I couldn't help but worry. It had been long since he had been injured that heavily. The last time had been the golem. That was three years ago. But still, seeing him like this hurt. Though his heartbeat and breathing told me otherwise, from how he looked he could also be dead.
There was only so much I could take. Tears welled up in my eyes and I pulled Triss closer, crumbling against her, as she understood. She hugged me tightly, whispering reassuringly. She didn't judge; only let me cry my heart out. All the bottled up fear for my husband, still lying unconscious in the blood soaked bed, bursting out.
When I stopped crying, Triss helped me sit down on the bed, next to Geralt, as she applied the tincture onto Geralt's wounds and bandaged his chest again. His wounds had stopped bleeding. From time to time, he'd cough up a little blood in his sleep, and I'd wipe it away. And over and over he muttered the name of the princess he couldn't safe.
With one particularly loud mutter of 'Renfri', followed by a gasp, Geralt opened his eyes, struggling to find focus. He stared straight ahead, fixed on the sorceress with her back towards him.
He groaned and grunted in pain and confusion, his hand touching his bandaged neck. I rushed to his side, cupping his face and caressing softly, calming him.
"Shh. You're safe, minne. You're fine. Everything is fine," I whispered soothingly, softly kissing his forehead. Triss gave us some time before she spoke up.
"Your scars. You heal quite nicely. Your will to live is strong. I can see why." She glanced at me when she said the last sentence. I nodded a 'thank you', a grateful smile on my lips.
"The princess?" Geralt rasped out. I held onto his hand, rubbing soothing circles with my thumb, tears of relief blurring my vision.
"I've arranged for her to stay a while with the Sisters of Melitele."
"But... I... Her neck?" worry laced his weak voice.
"She'll heal, too," Triss assured.
Relieved, Geralt let his head fall back into the pillows. I caressed his face, smiling down at him.
"You gave us quite a scare," I whispered, "Any other man would be dead. I thought you'd..." I couldn't finish the sentence I choked out, tears already spilling from my eyes.
"I'm here, love. It's alright," he rasped out, his voice weak and scratchy from not using it in days. With one last squeeze, I let go of his hand and got off the bed to get him a cup of water.
"You should know Foltest issued a statement. The honourable Lord Ostritt gave his life to slay the vukodlak. Miners are gathering all for a statue."
Geralt lay in silence for a while. I returned to his side, helping him drink the cool liquid. Triss only watched us, leaning against her desk.
With a grunt then, Geralt attempted to sit up. I helped him, whispering to him, "You've lost a lot of blood, minne. Take it slow."
But one glance told me: he couldn't. Roach and Shadow had been alone for too long, we had to get back to them as soon as possible.
"Anyone else would've killed the princess. You chose not to," the sorceress pondered, but Geralt didn't respond, pulling on his boots.
"I'll take the coin now," he grumbled instead. "We need to get back to our horses."
Triss turned, grabbing the coin-purse. "Who's Renfri?" she asked with her back turned to us.
The witcher tensed up, halted his actions and stared at Triss.
"Hers was the only name you uttered over and over in your sleep," she explained. "One would think a man would mumble his wife's name, but you didn't."
Again, Geralt did not respond. "My coin." I heard it in the changed tone of his voice: defeat, guilt. I stroked his arm reassuringly, then got up to get his new tunic, issued by the sorceress.
"So that's all life is to you. Monsters and money. Well, besides Nienna..." I heard Triss say from the other side of the room.
"It's all it needs to be. It's more than I ever wanted, and so much more than I deserve." A grumble.
That wasn't true. He deserved so much more than I could ever give him, and I dedicated my every day to try. I walked back to the bed, tunic in hand, and sat down next to my husband, just as the sorceress sat down on the chair at the foot of the bed.
"You say this is all life is to you..." She said, handing him the coin-purse, "but there is a vortex of fate around all of us, Geralt, growing with each and every one of our choices... drawing our destinies in closer."
Tentatively he pulled something from the purse. It was Renfri's broach. He had given it away?
"I feel something out there waits for you. Something more."
The witcher looked at her sceptically. It hurt to see he still thought of himself as if he was nothing. What Triss had said... yeah, I felt it as well, faintly, though, but it was there. And I also felt that whatever Renfri had told Geralt, it was somehow connected with what the sorceress just said.
She left us alone for a little, giving us some privacy as I helped Geralt get dressed. He complained he could do it alone, but with the wound between his neck and shoulder, I wouldn't let him.
As an extra on the payment, the king had Geralt's armour be repaired, so once he slipped it on we were good to go.
Triss accompanied us to the castle gates, to say goodbye.
"Take care of yourselves," she smiled at us.
"Yeah, uh, you too," Geralt grumbled, eager to get back to our horses. It would be a two-days march.
I pulled her into a hug. "Thank you... for everything," I whispered. In the time we had waited for Geralt to wake up, we had gotten to know each other better. I had told her about my mother's lessons, and Triss had taught me a little more, mostly to distract me from worrying. One of the things she'd taught me was how to make a portal, and I actually learned that very quickly. Though, I've never used one. But I could conjure it. That was something.
The sorceress hugged back. "It's nothing," she smiled, "stay safe."
"You too. I'll see if I can send letters. Goodbye, Triss," I said as we parted.
Geralt took my hand in his and we started walking down the road. After a few miles, it was growing dark, I spoke up.
"You know if we used a portal, it'd so much faster."
He tensed up. "No. No portals," he pressed out.
"Why?" I turned to look at him, seeing he was pale as a sheet, an almost terrified look on his face.
"I... I don't like them."
"You mean you're scared of them." I cocked a brow. Had I just found something – after twelve years – that the brave White Wolf, like Jaskier liked to call him, was afraid of.
Geralt glared at me, but then his expression changed and he inhaled deeply.
"You're... Nienna, are you still in pain? You smell... normal again."
I beamed at him. "Triss lifted the curse."
At that, he stopped, grabbed my waist and spun me around, wincing when his wound screamed at him. He set me down, pulled me close and kissed me.
While he was distracted, I let a portal appear beneath our feet, taking us right in front of the inn we stayed at. Startled, Geralt took a step back, holding on to the wall next to him. He was pale; paler than when I had mentioned the word 'portal'. I snickered slightly at him, seeing how scared he was at such a small thing. He fought monsters, for crying out loud.
"Don't ever," he panted out, "do that again!"
"Or what?" I challenged.
"Or..." he stopped to think about what would be the right punishment. The go-to, no sex, wouldn't work. I had spent three whole without anyone touching me; and let's be real, it had been harder on him. "Ah, forget it. Just don't do it again!" he waved off, going inside to pay the debt to the innkeeper.
All the while I went to the stables to prepare the horses. We'd ride the night through. Nothing would make us stay at this place for any longer than we needed to.