Chapter Text
Aleira trotted down the forest path, glad the day had not brought another blizzard. There was little cover under the trees, though everything around her was a glistening white. She breathed softly, her breath coming out in a soft puff of fog.
She patted her horse on the neck, thankful she didn't have to trudge through the snow on foot. She was travelling to a nearby village to restock her herbs and potions, before carrying on her way as a mobile healer.
A horse suddenly appeared in front of her, eyes rolling, clearly in distress.
"Woah!" Aleira exclaimed, quickly dismounting to try and calm the frightened animal.
She extended her hand to the chestnut coloured mare, murmuring under her breath as she approached the animal. The horse calmed instantly at her touch, leaning into her hand for comfort.
"Where is your rider?" she asked the horse, noticing the empty saddle on her back.
The horse nickered, as if she understood her and started pulling on the rope Aleira was now holding. Whistling softly to her own horse, Aleira followed the mare off the path and into the woods, the snow chilling her feet through her fur lined boots. Only a short way off the path, they came across a small cave on the side of a rocky hill.
Aleira eyed the cave wearily as she hitched both horses to a nearby tree. Retrieving her hunting dagger from her saddlebag, she entered the cave slowly, completely aware of the fact that she could be walking into a potentially dangerous situation.
After only a few meters, she heard a soft groan, followed by laboured breathing.
"Hello?" she called softly, her voice echoing off of the cave walls. No one responded to her call so she pressed on quietly. It was getting harder to see in the cave, so she was thankful when she saw a large leather boot sticking out from behind a bend in the rock.
She rounded the corner, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. On the stone floor, a large man was laying in the fetal position, his muscular arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen. She followed the line, up to his head, his long white hair obscuring his face. A silver wolf medallion hung from the man's neck.
"Geralt?" she squeaked, realising who was laying in front of her. The fact that he hadn't woken upon her entering the cave had her incredibly worried. Usually he would have heard her, even in slumber. There had to be something terribly wrong.
She rushed to his side, gently shaking his shoulder. "Geralt!" she called again, "Come on Witcher! Open your eyes for me!" When she received nothing but a pain groan in response, her stomach fell to her knees.
She rushed back to her horse, retrieving her medical pack, cursing at the meager contents.
Finding the vial she needed, she ran back into the cave, falling beside the unconscious man. Holding her breath, she opened the smelling salts, waving the vial under Geralt's nose.
His eyes flashed open, a pained groan tearing desperately behind clenched teeth. He hunched further in on himself, his head turning into the rock floor in agony.
Aleira watched in concern as the Witcher sucked in a pained breath, before rolling onto his front, one arm bracing him up, the other clutching agonisingly at his stomach. It only took seconds before he started to heave, his belly rejecting any contents he had managed to consume in the last day.
Aleira pulled his hair off his face, rubbing circles on his back, to try and offer some comfort, though she suspected he hadn't even realised she was there.
He retched heavily onto the stone floor, his eyes streaming from the intensity of the pain in his gut. After what felt like hours, his innards settled, allowing him to finally catch his breath. He spat, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. It was only then in his fevered state, that he realised he wasn't alone.
He whirled around, grabbing at the wrist that had been rubbing his back, before crashing the stranger against the wall of the cave, his forearm over their throat.
"Geralt-" Aleira choked. All the breath had been stolen from her lungs when her back hit the cave wall and whatever life she had left in her, was being crushed by the large forearm at her throat. "Geralt please-" she rasped.
She watched as recognition flooded his eyes. He dropped his arm quickly, his eyes widening. "Aleira-" he breathed, before his face turned even whiter and he fell to the ground, his head bouncing off the stone with a thwack!
Aleira gained her composure quickly, eternally thankful he had recognized her before killing her. She rushed to his side again, pulling his head into her lap. She reached for the vile of smelling salts again, but before she could even unstopper the vial, his eyes fluttered open.
She could see the pain and fever behind his yellow eyes. She stroked the side of his head softly, pushing his white hair off his face. He looked up at her, confused.
"What are you doing here?" he rasped, his voice hoarser than usual from being sick.
"Roach found me on the trail." she replied, knowing that would be enough of an explanation.
Geralt grunted in reply.
"What ails you?" she asked, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand. He was burning with fever, despite the cold.
"Toxicity." he grunted, his hand returning to his belly. "Too many potions."
Aleira bit her lip in sympathy, just relieved that he was allowing her touch. They had known each other for a long time. She had healed many of his wounds and shared a bed on more than one occasion.
"White Honey?" she asked, rubbing his shoulder as he groaned, another cramp ripping through his insides. He curled in on himself, hating how vulnerable he suddenly felt.
"'m out." he muttered.
"So am I…" she replied, suddenly worried. This level of toxicity was potentially life threatening. "How long?" she asked, choosing to keep her sentences short.
"Two days." he replied weakly.
This worried Aleira. Whatever was in his system should have either been metabolised or purged with the vomiting. Something was stopping him from purifying.
"We can't stay here." Aleira decided, patting the Witcher softly on his arm. "The village is only half a days north. We need to get you somewhere warm."
"Just leave me be." he growled. "I'll heal eventually."
Aleira sighed. "There's no way I'm leaving you Witcher." She stroked his head softly. "Either you come with me, or we both suffer in this cave. We can't even make a fire. Everything's too wet… if we travel to the village I may be able to find the ingredients to make White Honey."
Geralt growled but her words had the desired effect.
While the idea of being bounced up and down on horseback sent a wave of nausea through him, he also knew he wouldn't last much longer out in the elements, even with Aleira's help. He also couldn't deny that laying on a proper bed would help his body heal faster.
"Fine." he growled.
"I'll ready the horses." she said, moving before he had a chance to change his mind. Aleira set his head gently on the floor, whispering for him to rest for a minute.
She exited the cave, approaching Roach and her own black mare, Shadow. She scratched both of their chins, Roach bunting her head into Aleira's shoulder.
"We're gonna get him out of here." she soothed the horse. She approached her pack, pulling out some tanacetum parthenium, and ginger root. The painkiller and ginger should help with the pain and nausea. She sighed, wishing she could brew a tea, but knowing chewing on the herbs could have the same desired effect.
She moved back to Geralt, finding him still in the same position, his breathing laboured, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. The toxicity seemed to be attacking his digestive system. It could be days before it worked his way out of his body.
She helped him sit up, opening the pouches of the herbs, before telling him to open his mouth.
"Chew on these. They'll help." she murmured, pushing the herbs onto his tongue. He frowned at the bitter taste, but chewed all the same. After a few minutes, she moved out from under him. "Come on Witcher." she said gently, helping the sick man to his feet.
Geralt ground his teeth, his gut not liking the change of position. Aleira steadied him when she saw him wavering from the change in equilibrium. Once on his feet, he leaned against the cave walls, making his way out to Roach out of pure stubbornness.
Roach whinnied in concern at sight of the Witcher. He approached her gently, patting her softly between the eyes. He tapped the side of her neck and she obediently knelt into the snow.
He mounted her with a grimace, before tapping the same spot, Roach standing back to full height. Aleira mounted Shadow wordlessly, before clicking her tongue, leading them back to the path. She could only hope they would make it to the next village without any mishap. Judging by the Witcher's pale face and drawn features, she wasn't holding much hope.
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They had been travelling for no more than an hour, when Aleira heard a pained groan behind her. She turned in her saddle, concern growing when she saw the Witcher hunched over, one arm wrapped tightly around his belly, the other holding onto Roach's neck as he tried to steady himself.
Aleira guided Shadow back down the track, stopping in the path of the other rider.
Wordlessly, Aleira reached into her pack, pulling out more herbs. She sprinkled them into her water flask, before passing the concoction to her ailing companion.
"Sip on this." she instructed softly, hoping to give him some relief.
Geralt reluctantly, yet obediently took a mouthful, not enjoying the idea of having anything in his stomach. Everything he had tried to ingest over the past days, had made a rather violent reappearance.
They pressed on, knowing time was of the essence. There was a storm brewing and neither rider wanted to get caught in it.
It was only ten minutes later that she heard what could only be described as a whimper escape past Geralt's teeth.
He groaned uncharacteristically, before leaning over the side of Roach, bringing up the herbs and the water onto the path below. He heaved, holding onto Roach's mane for dear life. Aleira moved to his side, trying to steady him as best she could. When the vomiting spell was finally over, Geralt leaned exhausted against his horse's neck.
Aleira knew he was tiring quickly. She needed to get him to the village before he lost the battle with his ailing body.
Making a quick decision, she dismounted Shadow, before hoisting herself up behind Geralt. At his confused, perplexed stare she shrugged, gathering the large man in her arms. "Lean on me." she whispered, pulling him gently until his head rested on her shoulder.
Whistling for Shadow to follow, she clicked her tongue, urging Roach to pick up their pace. Geralt moaned in her arms, falling unconscious to his pain and fever.
"Come on Witcher, just hold on a little longer."