Gwen's arms trembled as she lifted her cupped hands to her face, the water from the lake cool against her sweaty skin. The morning after Iorveth's speech she had woken up feeling particularly dizzy, almost toppling over as she got out of bed. Refusing to sit on her hands all day and wile their final moments in Vergen away, she had decided to push through the disorientation and get some more physical activity, if only to tire her out and help her sleep that night. Apparently she had been pushing herself too much lately though, since her arms had ached from the moment she got up. It hadn't taken long before she could no longer hold her wooden stick properly either, but that was mostly because she started seeing double. Dropping the practice blade to the ground, she had staggered over to the water, where she had fallen to her knees and splashed some water into her face.

Droplets trickled down her skin, her shoulders heaving as she took in several ragged breaths to fend off yet another wave of nausea. She grit her teeth together and willed the sensation to leave as if it could be so easy. Had it really been this bad this early on last time? She did not remember. But then again, back then she had been at home, nice and cozy and safe. How was she supposed to make the trip back to Flotsam and then even farther to Novigrad when she couldn't even walk down a flight of stairs without almost throwing up? If she was going to be a picky eater all the way through?

She had considered staying behind. Right now, the only thing tying her to the Scoia'tael were thoughts of some sort of comradery that may or may not be reciprocated. Oh, and not to forget the life growing inside of her. Sure, Iorveth had all but abandoned her, but did she have the right to take this miracle child away from him? From all of them?

The realisation made her swallow hard. That's right, no matter what she decided, this would never just be his or her baby. Not only was he their commander and did his life belong to his subordinates, it was also a piece of hope for the non-humans, one that took on the form of a child. Their child. Most elves had probably never even encountered a newborn before. What right did she have to take that away from them?

Tears welled up in her eyes and she dug her fingers into the earth beneath her, dirtying her chipped nails with soil. She pressed hard enough for the tips to turn white and for the muscles in her arm to ache in protest. It was bad enough that she had to relinquish control of her body while the life within her grew slowly but steadily, changing her body against her will. What right did they have to take away the rest of her freedom, simply because of who her lover was?

Breathe! she reminded herself and she did so, inhaling as deeply as her body let her before releasing it through her nose. She repeated the motion three more times before her muscles began to relax and the shaking of her body gradually subsided. Bending forward, she rinsed her hands in the water, ridding them of the dirt and grime while she ignored the throbbing in her fingertips. For good measure, she splashed some water into her face again and let it dry in the soft breeze that filled the air that day.

Sitting back, she rolled the ends of her breeches and lowered her feet into the lake. She watched the ripples of water spread out from around her shins and then still once she had positioned herself. Watching the waves reflect the sun at random intervals, making it seem like the surface was twinkling, helped calm down whatever brewed inside her head. Perhaps she should ask Ivor what he thought best in her current situation. He knew the elves like no other, but he also valued her as an individual. Yes, if anyone could help her, it was him…

The clinking of armour forced her out of her reveries and made her spine go rigid even before she could place the sound. She refused to turn around, didn't even acknowledge the presence that closed in on her until the person sat down next to her while keeping a respectable amount of distance between the two of them. Or perhaps he simply feared she would attack him if he came within reach. Only when he opened his mouth and inhaled sharply did she turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

Iorveth sat there with crossed legs, arms resting along his knees, lips parted to speak his mind though nothing came out. His right hand was still bandaged and up close Gwen noted the blood seeping through the fabric covering the knuckles and how the appendage had swollen. The commander stared at nothing, eye darting back and forth, and it almost seemed like something was troubling him. Perhaps he was holding himself back?

"I…" The commander's voice broke and he cleared his throat before he turned to face the half-elf. "I'm sorry." As soon as the words left his lips, he turned away from her again.

A crease appeared on Gwen's forehead as she frowned at him. In all the scenarios she had imagined where she met Iorveth, she hadn't ever pictured him simply apologising like this. That was a lie - much to her dismay she had begun the fantasy many times, but had never gotten past him saying those two words simply because she could not even dream of him actually uttering them like this. The last time he had spoken them, after all, it had felt like a last resort. Like he'd had to say them in order to deescalate the situation. Now, he had come to her of his own volition, to murmur the words softly like he just had.

He remained silent for a while longer afterwards, but he did not seek eye contact again. Whatever he wanted to say had yet to be said since he did not look at her to wait for a reaction. It seemed like he hadn't prepared some moving commander speech for this moment either and that instead he had come as himself with no plan of attack. Even from where she sat, Gwen saw how he clenched and unclenched his jaw over and over again.

She should have gotten up and left. Should not have entertained any of the notions he might have gotten in his head this time. Should not even have allowed him the hope of simply talking himself out of whatever was currently going on between the two of them. Even so, she found herself remaining seated, almost curious as to what went through his mind that was taking him such a long time to put into words. This confused her more than anything; only a few moments ago she had been on the brink of tears yet again because of this man. Now she could feel her heart beating in her throat, hope and fear mixing into one dreadful cocktail she had never wanted to experience ever again.

"I made a mistake," he began again, still not looking at her, his hands clenched into fists. The stain on his bandage grew darker as he did so. "I realise that now. You believe it is the commander that keeps us apart, when in reality it is I myself. I myself let my judgement become clouded, and when everything fell apart, it was I myself who could not admit I was in the wrong. Despite the fact that..." A short pause filled the air and Gwen found herself holding her breath waiting for him to continue. "That it was I myself who had made a mistake. And I did not… could not bare to think of how my own mistake might have cost you your life. Your lives. And so I refused to see reason and… damaged you more than I already had." He took a shuddering breath that lifted his shoulders as well as his chest and he squeezed his hands together. "You wanted to know why I made this choice and I shall be completely honest with you. Do you promise to listen until the very end?"

Pressing hands that had gotten clammy together, Gwen finally met the elf's gaze and nodded even before she could ask herself if she even wanted to hear the truth. After so many nights of mulling over the possibilities, it was far too late to wonder if she really wanted to know. She was going to get it now, whether she wished for it or not.

This time, when he tore his eye from hers, he did so with hesitation. "News of your arrival in Flotsam had reached us before you did. I probably knew more about you than any other person in this world did even before you set foot in the forest. We had made plans to contact you, although many disagreed because you are an inh'eid, but then you fell into one of our bear traps. By the time you entered the camp, I already knew what I wanted to do with you."

"...to use me as a bargaining chip with Stennis," the half-elf whispered, mostly to herself. She feared if she spoke any louder, he would stop. No matter how her throat tightened in disgust at hearing him talk about her like she were a farm animal being traded, it fascinated her to finally see the other side of the tale.

"Indeed. Except what I expected to be some uninteresting and bland royal bastard ended up being… you. You reminded me of myself in more ways than one, but what truly intrigued me was how different we were. I couldn't stay away from you, no matter what anybody told me. And so when it was time for the plan to be set in motion…" This time, when he turned to face her, his eye was wide and so very green, much like the forest around them. Although he looked at her, the shine in his eye made it clear that he was somewhere else, a few months into the past. He furrowed his brows slightly and continued, "I regret it very much and should have intervened. And not just because of what you are carrying." With a blink, the elf returned to the present. "Yes, it was because of my role as commander that I planned to let Stennis take you to begin with, but if I had been the commander in that moment itself, I would have decided against it too."

Iorveth swallowed hard and ground his teeth together again. His knuckles turned white once more as he clenched his hands. While waiting for him to continue, the half-elf bit her lip to stop herself from speaking. The fact that he had to come to her to lay himself bare for all the world to see was enough of a miracle. She did not want to push her luck.

"Nilfgaard's presence… it was already known at that moment. Or rather, I knew about it. In that moment, I had already guessed that your sacrifice would most likely be in vain and that we would not be staying in Vergen for very long. I could have stopped everything… but I didn't."

Something inside of Gwen twisted violently and it was all she could do to not be sick right then and there. Her reflection in the lake stared at her with wide eyes and flaring nostrils. She dug the fingers she had only just cleaned back into the soil while trying to remain grounded.

He had known! Had known it would all be for nothing! And still? He used her? For nothing? Why?

There had to be a good reason. Iorveth would not do such a thing for mere fun.

Would he?

Why else?

Why?

"Why?" Her voice sounded so soft and small speaking the one word that had been haunting her almost non-stop these past few weeks. She had uttered it many times, but had never gotten satisfactory answers to the question. Would it be any different this time around?

"Because…" Iorveth inhaled slowly and tipped his head back before lifting his bandaged hand and placing it on top of his ruined eye socket. His bandana had been rolled up when he approached her, but by sitting at her right he had blocked her view of that side of his face, only allowing her glimpses of the scar whenever he looked at her. It had surprised her to see him walk around without covering it in Vergen and she had caught herself being happy for him that he could do so around his comrades.

"Because I made a mistake. Because I didn't want to believe that Nilfgaard, the army that took away almost everything from me, had returned. Even if it… would cost you your life." The elf closed his eye and dug his fingers into the flesh around his scar. "Sometimes… I can still feel him carve this line in my face. I did not give them what they wanted back then, and I…" A tremor ran through his body, one that Iorveth tried to suppress by flexing his muscles, without success.

Gwen remembered a conversation she had heard, one that had drifted through her mind all this time but that she had never been able to place.

"How are you faring?" one voice, warm and soft, spoke. "I heard the reports. About Nilfgaard."

"There is no time for a fear of past happenings," another voice replied. This one sounded deep and raspy. "And I doubt Isengrim's summons and Nilfgaard's appearance are a coincidence. He must be planning something."

"Even so, you must take care not to push yourself. You've seen what war can do to some, and you've been through more than most. Least of all due to Nilfgaard."

"As I said, it is all in the past. No sense in dwelling on it."

With a sigh, Iorveth dropped his hand back into his lap. "That's right. I was… am… frightened. I refused to see reason by stopping Stennis from taking you. If I had been a proper commander, I would have remained… unemotional about the situation and changed the plan, but I didn't." When the elf looked back at her, he turned his entire body towards her. "You believe it is the commander who keeps us apart, when I am the one doing so. You… you are part of the Scoia'tael, one of us. The commander always takes care of his own as much as possible. He would never sacrificing anyone if there were others ways, and he would never sacrifice an unwilling comrade." He lowered a hand to softly trace hers, still holding onto the grass and earth, fingertips brushing against knuckles so gently she would have cried had she not been frozen. "You believe it is the commander keeping us apart, when it is my own selfishness and fear. None of my past relationships were with someone as tumultuous as you. I feel both lost and found at the same time when it comes to you, but until now I have enjoyed every moment of it." Iorveth pulled his hand back and placed it on his knee, leaving Gwen yearning for more yet wanting none of it. "I realise, however, that the same might not go for you. If you wish to remain here, far away from me and the other seidhe, I would understand. The matter has been discussed with Saskia and I have seen to it that you will want for nothing here, should that be a reason you hesitate to stay. If instead you were to join us, I will ensure you are as comfortable as can be guaranteed at a time like this."

Both of them exhaled slowly in the silence that followed his monologue, their breaths mingling in the warm summer air, becoming one before being swept away by the currents of a breeze. In this moment of uncertainty, Gwen had no idea what she was supposed to think or feel. He was offering her a way out, the possibility of freedom, away from the elves, like she had wanted since the moment she first set foot in Flotsam.

It also meant she would have to bear this child by herself, with no familiar support. Although she knew Ivor loved her very much, he would not give up his comrades for her, and she wouldn't let him do so either. Sure, she could imagine Saskia giving her all she needed if she were to stay, but she didn't think she would feel at home here very soon. Furthermore, she would be receiving the treatment because of what she was, not who she was.

More than anything, she realised, she just wanted to be herself, wherever she was. Nothing more and nothing less.

Fearing the fact that she was making yet another mistake, she said, "How… how can you talk about me being 'one of you' and in the same breath tell me you will make me as comfortable as possible. I don't want to be treated differently, least of all… because of what I am to you. I want to be treated as I am… because of me. So you can give that comfortable position to someone who actually needs it. I'll be walking beside the others, suffering alongside them." The half-elf lifted her chin and met Iorveth's eye, defiance filling every inch of her being even as she ignored the voice in her mind berating her for giving in so easily after hearing his sob story.

He opened his mouth but closed it again, a strange warmth visible in his eye instead as he beheld her. Gwen's hands itched to rub her wrists under the weight of his gaze, but before she could grow too uncomfortable, he broke eye contact to stare across the lake. "In that case, are you ready to leave tomorrow?"

A sense of certainty that had evaded the half-elf until that moment filled her when she nodded once and said, "Yes."

She still didn't quite understand why things were the way they were, but she had caught a glimpse of what did or didn't make Iorveth who he was, and that was good enough. At least for now. The things he had suffered in the past did not make up for his wrongdoings in the present, but acknowledging his mistakes was one step in the right direction. Where that would lead them, Gwen had no idea, and just thinking about it made her clench her hands into painful fists with the remains of her nails digging into her palms. She couldn't stop her heart from beating rapidly at the thought either, but she wasn't about to follow her heart blindly any time soon.

"Good," Iorveth stated with a nod before he moved to face the lake once more, allowing the half-elf a view of his profile. Where the right side of his face was marred by the scar, the left side had somehow remained immaculate. Gwen had noticed it time and again in the past, but she couldn't get over how serene and normal he seemed from this side. Short, dark hair had been mostly pulled behind his ear where it was held by the bandana. High cheekbones and prominent nose cast deep shadows across his skin, making his face seem paler than it actually was. Lines crossed his cheek just beneath his eye, betraying the exhaustion that must have been gnawing at him. When he swallowed, his Adam's apple moved and caught her attention. The sight of his throat, covered in vines that crawled out from underneath his armour, brought memories to the surface that had all but faded from her mind, no matter how short ago it was that the two of them had spent that kind of time together. It felt like ages had passed since then.

When both he and the memories didn't seem like they were going to leave, Gwen's skin began to itch again and she couldn't stop her hand from scratching the scars on her lower arm. Her fingers left a trail of dirt from the soil across her skin, one that she tried to wipe away but instead ended up smearing out. The movement caught the elf's attention, and although he must have seen what she was doing, he didn't say anything about it.

Fearing his judgement all of a sudden, the half-elf pushed herself off the ground and muttered something about preparing for their departure before she fled the scene. The commander's gaze burned on her back as she left, her throat tightening so hard it almost felt like she might choke as she did so. The sound of her heart pounding filled her ears and blocked out all else until she found herself in her room with her back against the door, her body feeling drained from the sudden yet intense switch in emotions.

The door behind her shook all of a sudden and pulled her back to reality. She stepped away from it just before it was thrown open and Ivor stumbled into the room, his cheeks flushed and his breathing heavy.

"Are you all right?!" he exclaimed as he rushed towards her, his hands ready to examine her. Even in his distress, he held up one of them for her to press her forehead against, which she did without thinking. "Didn't you hear me calling?"

Gwen shook her head, relishing in the feeling of the cool palm against her face. "Sorry. I wasn't…" She didn't finish her sentence. She had been what, exactly?

"Did Iorveth speak with you?" he asked as he moved his hand away, though he didn't drop it to his side. When Gwen furrowed her brows at him, he added, "I heard elves saw him leave town and then I saw you storming back in. He cannot have been up to much good, can he?"

With a lift of her shoulders, the half-elf pulled away from her friend. She wondered how much he already knew, how much she could tell him. Although part of her felt like the commander didn't deserve the discretion, she also didn't want to risk revealing too much to his subordinates.

"He… he told me the truth and gave me a choice." She grasped Ivor's hands, still outstretched towards her, and squeezed. "I'm coming with you to Flotsam. Novigrad. Anywhere." Ivor opened his mouth, the concern visible even in his elven eyes, but she went on, "I don't know if it's the right choice. If there… if there even is a right choice. But I made it for myself. Because I wanted to." A smile tickled the corner of her mouth, one that tried to shoo away the fear that burst into life at the sight of Ivor's expression. "All right, fine. I also made it for you. After all, what am I supposed to do without my trusty comrade?"

"Have you forgiven him?" The question came so suddenly and so earnestly, the half-elf could only stare at him while her teeth felt like they were stuck together, much like when she had eaten too much of that sticky candy the king had liked to give her as a child. The softness in Ivor's eyes had melted away, giving way to a calmness that did not betray his hopes concerning her response.

Her mind reeled and she saw Stennis and Iorveth standing before her, both looking down on her as though she were a dirty vagabond dog they had found in an alley somewhere. She remembered the hate and the anger that had filled her from top to bottom when she was held captive in the soldier's camp, the struggle she had had with Richard. The days she had spent travelling to Vengerberg, the days she had spent in Vengerberg. All of that… it had been over a selfish mistake. One that had finally been discussed, but a mistake that had cost her a lot nonetheless.

"I… I don't know," she began and she let go of Ivor's hands in favour of rubbing her arms repeatedly like she was cold.

She felt Iorveth's hand grasping her wounded and scarred arm, the care in his fingers as he caressed her skin. The nights spent in the warmth of a campfire, side by side. She saw him standing by the lake at Flotsam, baring himself to her for the first time as she did for him. Thinking back, it was strange how he had known so much about her, but had shared so little in return. Why was he sharing this only now, when it might have changed everything if she had known beforehand?

Why? If?

It seemed that all the answers she got would only bring more questions into existence. Was this what they meant when they said ignorance was bliss?

But the fact that the knowledge stung this much was an answer itself. One that Ivor was waiting for, whether it would satisfy him or not. "No. Not… not yet, at least. I don't know if I ever will. But I… at least I understand it a bit more now."

Ivor sighed and tightened his hold on her. "I am glad you are beginning to understand who the commander is. Even I barely unsurfaced the tip of the iceberg, yet I feel like I know too much. I hope you'll be able to digest whatever it is you learn."

"Don't you worry, Ivor." The half-elf grinned at him. She felt much more at ease in his presence. The thoughts might haunt her when she tried to sleep, but at least for now she had some peace. "I've been through a lot myself. We can hold a competition on whose life was worse."

His shoulders shook with laughter and Ivor pulled free from her to rub a hand across his forehead. "Ah, Gwen. You quite honestly might be the death of me."

"Finally! Do you have any clue how long I've been trying?!" Gwen exclaimed, hands on her hips.

With a yell filled with betrayal, Ivor captured her head in an armlock, his arm pressed tightly against her throat while he brought a hand up to press his knuckles against her skull. "Did you think I would go alone? I will be taking you along with me!"

"Owowowow!"

"How do you like this, you fiend! An act of self-defense, there is naught you can do!"

"...what if I start crying?"

The elf abruptly let go and made the most exaggerated expression of horror Gwen had ever seen. "Ah, my only weakness! Such cruelty!"

With a snort, the half-elf burst into laughter. She laughed until her stomach cramped up for another reason than sickness. She laughed until her cheeks ached from smiling. She laughed until she choked on her own spit and had to stop laughing in order to not die. Even when Ivor had stopped the battle and they sat side by side, their backs against the bed, she could not hold back the occasional hiccup.

As her head lay on Ivor's shoulder and a warmth that she hadn't felt in a while filled her, fatigue swept over her and dragged her off. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was a hope that she would find more things to laugh about in the near future. She would need them dearly.