My nap didn't last long. Only about fifteen minutes later, Jaskier came upstairs with steaming pot. The smell was enough to make my mouth water and stomach rumble, and I realized that I hadn't eaten much today with everything going on. I put little sleeping Crevan into his crib, covering him with his blanket. I couldn't help but stare and smile down at the little person sleeping peacefully.
On wobbly legs, I got up, Geralt at my side immediately, supporting me as we made our way over to the table.
"Mhh, Jaskier, that smells amazing," I hummed when Geralt helped me to sit down.
During the time he stayed with us, the bard had done most of the cooking, and after the first few attempts that ended in pots crusted in burned remainders of whatever Jaskier was trying to cook, the three of us discovered that he was actually a natural. We ate in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the soft cooing coming from the sleeping child.
"Sooo," Jaskier started after a while, "Have you decided for a name yet?"
Smiling, I turned to my husband.
"Go on," he whispered, nodding.
"Crevan," I beamed, "Our little fox."
"Please tell me I'm allowed to sing songs about him," the bard begged. Next to me, Geralt tensed up. I spoke up before he could snap.
"When he's older, Jaskier, and can decide if he's okay with; for himself." My soft voice was laced with a stern undertone.
"I wasn't going to..." he stopped when I raised my eyebrow sceptically. "Okay, okay. But just imagine: the ballade of the White Wolf and his pup!"
"No, Jaskier!" Geralt burst, "He's ours, and I want to keep it that way for as long as I can!"
His outburst woke our son, causing Crevan to start crying. I jumped up from my chair and rushed over to his crib, lifting the tiny bundle in my arms and rocking him gently.
"Shh, cáelm, en'ca minne (translation: "calm/ quiet, darling")," I cooed in Elder speech, repeating as I went back to the table, sitting down.
"If people find out what he is," Geralt continued in a harsh whisper, "It could put him and Nienna in danger, and I can't let that happen."
"You know I can defend myself," I reminded my husband.
"I still don't want to even think of the possibility that you have to do that."
I sighed, shifting Crevan in my arms so I was holding him in one arm while the now free hand came up to cup Geralt's jaw.
"I know, minne. But there are things that are even out of your control."
"I just want to keep the two of you safe," Geralt muttered, planting a firm kiss to my forehead.
"And this is my cue to leave," Jaskier reminded us of his presence, collecting the bowls, spoons and the pot off the table and starting towards the stairs.
"Jaskier, wait," I whisper-shouted after him. He stopped and turned, looking at me expectantly. "Thank you... for everything. I don't know how we would have managed without you. Crevan can be proud to have his uncle Jas," I smiled at the now stunned bard.
"Uncle Jas," he repeated softly as he started down the stairs.
Geralt turned to me, slightly annoyed. "We didn't talk about this."
"I know," I shrugged, gently rocking our son up and down in my arms, gazing down at these big, beautiful, blue eyes, "But I knew you would have never agreed to it."
"And that for a reason!"
"Jaskier is way more mature than you give him credit for. Hasn't he helped us, especially you, a lot in the past? And I'm not only talking about the last six months."
"He has," Geralt mumbled, lowering his head in defeat.
A strand of his hair fell over his shoulder, dangling above Crevan's tummy. Excitedly, our little fox stuck his tiny hand out, trying to grab his father's hair but not quite reaching it. Upset, he started sobbing. I chuckled, rocking him up and down.
"Let you son grab his daddy's hair, minne," I chuckled at Geralt. Instead of doing so, Geralt tucked the fallen strand back behind his ear and reached behind my back, retrieving a strand of my hair from my braid instead.
"I think mummy's hair would be better for that," he returned my chuckle, letting my hair dangle right in front of our son's tiny fist for him to grab. When the small hand closed around the strand, Geralt leaned in to whisper into my ear. His hot breath fanned over my ear and neck.
"You're the only person who gets to tug on my hair," he murmured darkly, a glint in his eyes when my face whipped around to look at him. I couldn't hide a small blush.
"Geralt!" I whisper-shouted at him, feigning shock, "I literally just gave birth to our child, and this is all you can think of?!"
Geralt let out a throaty laugh. "I'm just kidding, my love." And with a smirk he added, "Still, I mean it."
I shook my head, laughing. A quiet coo brought our attention back to the small child in my arms. Crevan was peering up at us, his big, blue eyes curious.
"Better you don't understand what your daddy meant by that," I smiled down at our son.
"When you're old enough, I'll teach you everything you need to know to make the girls fall for you."
"I think he'll manage on his own. Look at him; he's gorgeous. He'll grow up handsome, just like his daddy."
Geralt smiled down at our little one. If he could cry, I know that right now, he would.
"I still can't believe you made this tiny person," he whispered.
"We did that. Really, what do they teach you in Kaer Morhen that you don't know that it takes two to make a child," I laughed.
"Well... since witchers are not supposed to have children, we are mostly taught in identifying and killing monsters, lifting curses, fighting... you know, that kind of stuff," Geralt shrugged.
I knew he meant it more or less as a joke, but I couldn't help the pang of sadness in my chest when I was once again reminded that my husband, the love of my life, didn't really have a childhood.
"How much will he be like you?" I mumbled.
"I don't know. I can sense magic on him."
I nodded. I felt it too. During the whole pregnancy if I was completely honest. I even think it was the magic inside Crevan that drained my strength, left me weak and depending on others. Ana's pregnancy with her daughter wasn't as draining. Sure, she too had been exhausted, but her legs had supported her weight for the whole nine months, she never needed to be carried around.
"I just don't know how strong he will be."
"What are we going to do if the Brotherhood shows up?" I asked, worried. I hadn't heard much about the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, but what I've heard – apart of what Triss told me – was bad. Real bad. And I've heard that if they want to recruit a person, they will not stop until they have them.
"We'll tell them to fuck off."
I was about to nod, but –
"You just cursed around our child!" I gasped.
He looked at me, confused. "I can't do that now?"
"No! He'll pick them up. And he's a child, he shouldn't know bad words!"
"I don't care if he knows 'bad words'. If he doesn't get them from us, he'll learn them somewhere else."
"You say this now, but just wait until he tells you to fuck off one day."
Geralt looked down Crevan, his tiny fist still wrapped around my hair as his big eyes stared up at his father.
"He wouldn't."
"He would, if that was a word we'd say around him once he started learning to speak," I said, cocking my eyebrow.
"Son, just so that one thing is clear: you will neither tell your mother nor me to fuck off, understood?" Crevan cooed. "Just because I talk like that does not mean you can talk like that." Another coo. "Good."
I smiled down at our son. "Don't listen to him," I whispered, "I'll make sure he doesn't curse around you, little fox." Another coo and then his eyes grew droopy. "Are you tired, en'ca minne? Come on, let's get you in bed, hm?"
I stood up and walked around the bed, putting Crevan down in his crib. He was still holding on to my hair and I had a hard time freeing it from his grip.
"Let go, sweetie. Mummy will be right beside you, but you have to let go," I pleaded with him, my fingers trying to gently loosen his grip.
"You're so good at this," Geralt mumbled from across the room.
"Well, I had a great teacher," I chuckled, referring to Ana, "and her daughter loves gripping hair, too, so... Come on sweetie, let go of mummy."
But he didn't let go. Geralt came up behind me, his chest against my back as he leaned down to peer at our son.
"Do as your mummy says, little one, hmm?" his rough whisper so soft. It was the exact same voice he had used when he talked to Crevan when he was still inside me. And miraculously, he let go. I quickly pulled the strand away from him, throwing it over my shoulder.
"Good boy," I cooed, "But you also need to listen to mummy. She's the one who feeds you. Don't mess with me," I joked.
Tired eyes stared up at us, droopy, but they wouldn't close.
"Don't worry, little fox, mommy and daddy are right here," Geralt whispered and my heart melted at his words.
"And daddy will protect you, always. Believe me, he's done it before, for you and for me," added, feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist.
"Maybe you should just let him sleep," Geralt mumbled against my hair.
"I just want him to know we're here," I sighed, but nodded, leaning back against my witcher before staking a step towards the bed.
As soon as we disappeared from our son's view, we were called back with a soft whine. Quickly, I stepped back towards the crib, lifting Crevan into my arms and rocking him gently.
"Shh, we're here. Mummy and daddy are here," I cooed. "Go to bed, seems like we have to put him in his crib after he fell asleep," I chuckled at Geralt.
My husband nodded and took off his boots and shirt, lying down, or more, sitting up against the headboard, his arms an open invitation for me to join him. An invitation I took more than gladly. Supporting Crevan with one arm, I climbed into bed, cuddling against my husband. Geralt wrapped his arms around mine, holding them while they held our son. I let my head fall against Geralt's shoulder, sighing happily.
"Is this how you imagined it to be?" Geralt asked after a while.
"Mhhh, so much better, but..."
"But what?"
"Something is still missing."
"And what would that be?"
I lifted my head, smiling at Geralt, "Caen me a'baethe? (translation: "Give me a kiss?")"
Geralt smirked, lowering his head. Right before his lips captured mine, he muttered, "How could I say no to this?"
The kiss was sweet, both of us pouring all our love into it, our lips dancing together.
"Now it's perfect," I mumbled against his lips, before gazing down at our son, now peacefully sleeping in our arms. "Do you want to hold him?"
But Geralt shook his head. "I don't want to wake him," he explained quickly in a hushed tone and I nodded, shifting in bed to put our son in his crib, covering him up with his little blanket.
"Goodnight, my little fox," I whispered, "Mummy and daddy love you so much. More than you could ever know."
"Come here, 'mummy'," Geralt chuckled. I turned my head to find him already lying down, again holding his arms out. And again I gladly took his invitation, snuggling close into his arms, letting his calm breath and slow heartbeat lull me into sleep while his hand caressed my back.
It really was perfect.