A/N: A (sweet and fluffy) missing scene from the short story, "The Sword Of Destiny," where Geralt finds a little Ciri lost in the woods. This takes place between parts III and IV and I will therefore dub it "chapter 3.5". Pre-games/book canon.

Geralt doesn't sleep. He begins to, dozing somewhere on the cusp of unconsciousness that will soon drift into true slumber, but then the sniffling, squirming princess at his side drags him back to alertness and he abandons the cause.

On his other side, the dryad is sleeping quite peacefully. His left is another matter. Ciri wriggles, gives a particularly gross sniff as she adjusts her position against him, and jams a knee uncomfortably into his side.

He could ignore her easily enough: meditate a while to drown out her incessant snuffling and get some rest, yet seeing to his own needs while he leaves the little girl to pass the night in torment and discomfort doesn't seem right. Geralt keeps his eyes closed and his breathing deep and slow, but doesn't sleep.

When Ciri makes a particularly brazen attempt to treat his chest like a pillow she intends to fluff, he cracks his eyes open and looks down at her. "Have you not exhausted yourself enough?"

In the dark, her huge eyes peer up at him, indignant. "My head's too thick. I can't sleep."

"Tomorrow, you can walk for yourself. Then you'll sleep."

Ciri gives a loud, horrible snort. "You can't blame me for being sick."

"No, I just blame you for keeping me awake. Breathe through your mouth and stop making those disgusting noises. You'll wake Braenn."

Pouting, she rests her head against his chest again and curls into him. "I want a lullaby," she whines.

"I'm not a bard. And you already had a story."

Ciri just makes a hmph noise, though he thinks she's exhausted enough by now that she wants to sleep. Her cold and the disturbance in her breathing will keep it just out of reach for a time, but if she waits long enough, sleep will come.

"Geralt?" she mumbles after a while, though she seems to have settled, resting more comfortably with her head under his chin and her breathing less troubled.

"Mm?"

"Why is your heartbeat so slow?"

She isn't the first to notice his strange witcher's heartbeat, a quarter the pace of a normal man's. She's by far the most harmless. "Because you're draining the life out of me," Geralt says.

If she'd been nearing sleep, that draws her away again as she throws up her head and scowls at him. "I am not!"

"You are. I've been carrying you around all day and now you're keeping me from sleep. My heart is getting terribly tired."

"It doesn't work like that."

"How would you know?"

"Because…" Ciri begins, and he thinks she'll say something spoilt and indignant such as "because I'm a princess." She doesn't.

"Ciri?"

"What?"

"Are you going to sleep now?"

"No," she replies, and settles down again in the same spot as before. "I'm going to lie here and make sure it doesn't stop."

That's quite touching. Not long earlier, she'd been gleefully threatening to chop off his head. "Be sure to tell me if I die."

The little girl pouts. "You think you're funny. You're not."

"I'm being deadly serious, Ciri. What happens if you fall asleep and you can't tell me if my heart stops?"

"I'm not going to fall asleep. I'll lie here awake all night if I have to."

"I think you'll fall asleep."

"Will not."

Geralt sighs dramatically. "Well, I suppose either way we'll find out which is stronger: my heart or your stubbornness."

Ciri doesn't reply. He thinks she does an admirable job of listening, her ear pressed to his heart as she curls up against him, then eventually, her lips part and he hears her breathing become deep and even. Looks like she found her lullaby.

Geralt closes his eyes and joins her in sleep.