Before...

Cahir laid naked in his shared chambers with his new bride. He laid there, Gretchen nude as well, sprawled across him, her firm round breast pressing against his chest and flat stomach. Her body was warm and smooth, faintly smelling like flowers, and mint leafs. Her once pinned up beautiful hair was now messy, and falling down in strands. Both had made love countless times last night and finally just as the sun began coming up, Cahir was exhausted, sweat rolling off his body when finally he gathered his wife into his arms, and gently rubbed her back, feeling the long raised flesh from the unexplained scars.

After hearing the story behind the ones on her stomach, he felt his temper start to swell and bubble up within him. He had all ready silently made the decision that he would return back to that filthy whore house where he had recused Gretchen from. He wouldn't allow this dreadful monster of a woman to even breathe another second after what he heard from his darling wife what she had done. He had great plans after he took care of that bitch. He would return back home, and take Gretchen away from his family home. He would find them a fine home just outside of the kingdom. A place with plenty of land, a place that they could call their own, and a home in which they would start a family together in. He had seen the bloodstains on the sheets from last night, and knew he had ushered her into becoming a woman. He had felt himself last night enter her, breaking through her virginity, gritting his teeth as he pushed himself forward, hearing her cry out as she clung onto him. He remembered how suddenly how badly he had to fight from not finishing.

This wasn't like what it was like to be with a common whore, or to pleasure himself. No, Gretchen was his. She was his wife, and would finally have someone by his side. Staring at her, he hoped more than anything that he had put his seed inside of her. He thought back on the aching in his balls as he felt how tight she was. How he used all his willpower not to release himself yet. Now in the morning light as he laid back, drained, yet feeling the best he had ever felt. He had been his wife's first, and hoped more than ever he had gotten her pregnant. He wanted nothing more than to see a beautiful baby, half him, half her. He wanted dozens of children, boys and girls. The very thought of them raising all those children as he continued to he climb the ranks in the Nilfgaardian army. Yes, he had chosen the right woman to stand by his side. She wasn't some morning selected vessel to bare his heirs from his parents.

No, she was discovered by him. This beautiful girl who had been placed in that awful whore house to work as a slave until he swept her away, promising that she would never be hurt again. He knew she was unlike any other woman. In this brief period of time, he felt he had fallen, and fallen hard. The second he laid eyes on her the morning of their wedding, being led in wearing that sparkling wedding dress wut lace sleeves, He couldn't believe how absolutely stunning she looked. Her lips painted ruby red, her eyes surrounded by a smokey green emerald color, making the light green eyes of her own stand out. He remembered how radiant she seemed, as well as nervous. When he took her hand, his own heart hammered in his chest. He remembered how absolutely happy he seemed, feeling as if finally everything had fallen into place. Last night, he remembered feeling his manhood swell the second he stared at her naked body. When he laid on top of her, entering her, filling up to her womb, his balls ached, and he grunted, and pumped at a furious rate between her legs, determined to make a child, and start a family with her. Lacing his hand within hers, he squeezed and moaned as he finished inside of her, feeling himself empty out. Now hours later, he laid with his new bride draped over him, sleeping soundly. He listened to her breathe, soft gentle even breaths. He gently drummed his fingers against her back where the scars were.

He kept thinking of his business elsewhere to make that bitch of a madam pay for what she did to his beautiful wife. Laying there, staring up at the ceiling he knew for certain he would never feel this content and happy as he did at this exact moment. Smirking as he glanced down at her, he tilted his head slightly and kissed the top of her head, holding her tighter as if he would ever let go.

Present.

Geralt sighed, holding Gretchen as he heard her bones break, twisting, and turning, shrinking as she continued to change. Staring at her helpless, he shook his head.

"I can help you..."

Gretchen shook her head, her eyes completely changed, her facial bones sharpening, as she squirmed and twisted in pain. Faintly they could hear Cahir shouting, searching for her in the woods. For a mere moment, she stopped and stared up at him. Tears rolled down her red bird eyes.

"Let me go to him...this needs to be finished."

Geralt sighed staring down at her, before he nodded. Looking up at him, she sadly smiled before she gave his hand one last squeeze.

"Thank you Geralt of Rivia...until we meet again."

Sighing, Geralt closed his eyes as above in the dark sky the full moon shinned down. Suddenly Gretchen began to convulse. Her body twisted, as her back arched painfully as she cried out loudly. Loud enough that Cahir who was seventy or so feet away on his horse, held his lantern up and paused. He heard something, and was certain it was something besides the wind. Raising an eyebrow, he led his horse into that direction. When Geralt opened his eyes, he saw the transformation was complete. Gretchen's clothing laid in the snow, blowing empty in the wind. Splattered all over the ground was blood. Instead of Gretchen, there laid a raven, a full sized bird laid on the ground before him. It's beady eyes stared up at him, it's wings wet with blood. It flapped it's wings, before it let out a tiny cry, cocking it's head as it looked up at Geralt.

Geralt sighed, staring down helplessly at the bird. The sorcerer was wrong, the transformation happened much faster, and now it was complete. There sat a bird, with a beautiful young woman trapped inside. A woman who had mostly only known pain and abusive during her brief sad life. She had only gotten a brief taste of real happiness, and just as fast as it arrived, it was snatched away from her without any warning. He looked down at her, before it turned it's head in the direction of the shouts in the distance from Cahir.

"Gretchen! Gretchen!"

Geralt's amber eyes squinted in that direction, but before he could say anything the raven let out a cry, quickly flapping it's wings before it lifted off the ground and started quickly flying through the woods. It was slightly snowing, and the wind had picked up. Geralt jumped to his feet, watching the bird fly away.

"Gretchen!" He tried to shout, but it was too late. It flew at full force in the direction of the calls, it's wings drying as they flapped in the freezing cold night air. Frustrated, Geralt swore under his breath before he took off running, even though the bird was much faster.

Elsewhere...

Chair sat on top of his horse, the wind picking up. Suddenly a flash of darkness flew before his face as startled the horse, causing it to nearly throw him off. Holding on, Chair stared around with panic filled eyes, as this time it flew even closer. This time he felt the red hot string of pain as a claw or break scratched his neck.

"Argh!"

He cried out in both anger and surprise as he felt it's wings flap past him. Large blue eyes darting around, he looked around confused, as the bird came flying at him again. Letting the confusion get the best of him, he made his horse spin around as he blindly reached for his bow and arrow. He scrambled to grab an arrow, as he looked around. He looked around, before grabbing the arrow and taking aim. He pulled it back, squinting in the darkness as his latter swung against the side of his horse. The wind picked up even harder, snow flying in his face, as he stared, trying to focus, steady hands as he aimed. He wasn't sure what it was, but his anger was getting the best of him. He was scared, he was confused, and that thing of darkness flew past him again, even closer, brushing past his shoulder again as he felt thin blood dribble down his shoulder. He took pride in how well his archery skills were, and now tuned everything else out as he saw it approaching from the East. The black blur, coming towards him. Not taking time to think, he let out a deep breath, pulled the arrow taunt, and then released.

There he felt the arrow let go, flying straight through the air before... It hit the black blur.

There was a cry, and that's when it hit him. How could he have been so stupid? His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth opening as he stared horrified. The bird tumbled into the snow, the long arrow sticking right out of it. Fifty or so feet away, running towards him was Geralt. He saw it with his Witcher eyes and stopped dead in his tracks. He saw it all happen in slow motion and now it was too late. Cahir quickly scrambled off his horse, nearly falling, throwing down his bow and arrow. Slipping on the frozen ground, he took off running as fast as he could, heart hammering in his chest. Why was he so stupid? He knew what they had said, what she was, how couldn't he have known? This was her, and she was trying to reach him. Instead he shot her down like she was just some stupid animal. He broke off running, praying he was wrong, but he saw as he approached the fallen raven that his worst fears were becoming a certain reality.

Yes, there laying on the frozen ground was something he truly couldn't believe. Within second she watched as the bird transformed before his very own eyes. Here he saw as his wife appeared, an arrow sticking straight out of her chest. She was curled up, laying there, a small trial of blood dribbling from her mouth. She was naked, and the only part of the bird that remained were two massive black wings sticking out of her torn apart back.

They were huge, four or so feet. They laid in the snow lifeless, like dead wire. The rest of her was back to normal, naked, and bleeding to death. Her wings were gently folded, laying behind her. Cahir's eyes widened.

"NO!"

He screamed in outrage. He skidded to the ground, boots kicking up the snow as he knelt down beside his wife. His wife who just moments ago had been a flying raven. In his scared panic, he had shot her having no idea. Now she had changed back...why? Because she was dying. The people of his kingdom had been right. She had been a skin walker, a half breed. He didn't know, nor cared for the details, but he was certain this hadn't been her choice.

Now he had killed his wife who he had been searching for. The same wife who had given birth to their lchild scared and alone in the woods. Shaking his head, he screamed in frustration and anger, his face becoming flush.

"NOOOO!"

He gathered her up in his arms, her naked body freezing. Her eyelids slowly fluttered open as she stared up. Cahir stared down horrified at what he had done. The arrow was sticking straight out of her chest. There wouldn't be any saving her, he knew that. "Gretchen..." Gretchen opened her eyes weakly and stared up at him.

"Chair?"

Chair shook as his face crumpled.

"Shhhh, don't talk...it's okay..."

Gretchen stared up at him, before her eyes drifted down to the arrow sticking out of her chest. Suddenly she looked relieved. Weakly she stared up at him, blood now smearing her lips.

"Thank you...thank you for those few days you loved me, thank you for our child...and thank you for putting me out of my misery..."

Her last words were barley above a whisper. Cahir's face crumpled as tears filled his eyes. Shaking his head, he held her tighter.

"No...no...please...no...don't..."

Gretchen stared up at him, her eyelids becoming heavier as more blood bubbled up between her lips.

"I'm so sorry Cahir..."

"Shhh..."

He said shaking his head as he brushed her bangs back.

"Shhhh, don't talk...I can fix this...I can...just stay awake, stay awake for me..."

Gretchen stared up at him, before suddenly she gazed off, really no longer seeing him.

"Until we meet again my love..."

Her words trailed off, when suddenly she shook for a moment, then became still. Cahir waited for her to move, to look up any him. Instead,. there was just stillness. He had shot his wife, and now she was dead. Feeling completely heartbroken, he snapped his eyes shut as he shook his head.

"No..."

He moaned. Squeezing her tighter, he rocked back and forth, holding his wife's limp dead body as it continued to snow. Unknown to him, in the distance, Geralt stood in the background, his eyes sad with disappointment. In the end he hand't been able to fight for her or save her. She knew what she was doing, she knew her husband would have shot her down, putting her out of her misery. She had made it very clear, she wouldn't allow herself to exist if it meant she would fully transform. In the end, she had, but she had been put out of her misery by the man she loved right after. She had died in her own terms, in the arms of the man she loved. What they shared had been special, but as soon as she died, he felt as if this grip around his heart had finally released, and he no longer felt the sense of duty by protecting her. He had cared for her, but like so many of the others, she was gone. He was meant to continue on alone. The spell had been broken, and now she was dead. He watched from afar as Cahir wept over Gretchen's body, before shaking his head knowing the business here was over. He would turn around, find Roach, and continue on his way.

"Farewell Gretchen..." He whispered, before turning and walking away as the snow and wind continued to pick up.

He knew a Witcher was supposed to never feel love, but whatever this was that made him feel so awful, he figured it was a mixture of several different emotions One of which was complete disappointment. He hoped wherever Gretchen's soul was, it was far from this cold lonely Hell. With that, he continued on his way.

Later...

Cahir returned to his camp where his men waited with Gretchen wrapped up in his blanket. He had in a terrible fit of rage tore her massive black wings straight off her back with a sickening snap. both wings were massive as he held onto them, staring at them both in disgust and amazement. He had packed them away, before pulling the arrow out of his wife's corpse, before grabbing the blanket and gently wrapping her up. As he rode on less than an hour later he suspected he was in shock. He couldn't think, no he wouldn't allow himself to think. Everything hurt, and the fact he had just accidentally murdered his half breed wife who died in his arms.

When he returned, he saw the men and all of the stunned expressions. Instead of saying a word, he carried his wrapped up wife's body the same way he did on their wedding day. He carried her, before entering his tent. The men had made good on his promise with his young child's corpse, laying in a barrel of salt. Here, he worked silently. He unrolled a new canvas, before using what he had packed, and had hoped he would dress his wife in when he rescued her.

Her wedding dress.

He took the sparking soft material, and silently dressed her, ignoring the horrible bloody wound in her chest. Once he dressed her, he gently tucked her hair behind her ears, before slipping her wedding ring back on her cold, now stiffening finger. He wrapped the small dead fetus in a few cloth with the Nilfgaardian crest on it. He folded his wife's hands, before placing the dead child...their dead child in her arms. Laying there was his family. He cried silently, but continued to work, ready to slaughter anyone who came in to disturb him. Once he was finished, he wrapped her and his dead son up, folding the cloth gently before finishing. Sighing, right before he closed the and finished wrapping her up, he stared down at her pale face before gently kissing her lips. Afterwards, he ordered for the men to dig a grave. Before sunrise it was finished despite the frozen ground.

Here, he gently laid his wife's body down, before filling it himself. Once the grave was filled, he shook his head when the men asked if he wanted a headstone or marker made. Instead he said no, and the men packed up, ready to head back to Nilfgaardian, He gave them all enough coin to keep their mouths shut. If anyone asked, they never found Gretchen.

A few days later he returned back home, but was no longer staying with his family. He was renting a small room for the time being before he was stationed elsewhere. During that time, he had fashioned the large feathers to his helmet for his armor.

He would forever carry a small piece of Gretchen with him forever.

That first night back, he woke gasping and sweating. He had a vivid dream where a witch had told him the true key to the center of it all would be a princess with great power. This would be Gretchen, reincarnated, reborn, and his second chance to true happiness. He wasn't sure if this was some feverish frighting dream, but it stood out and soon became an obsession.

As he rode with his army, he continued wearing his wife's feathers on his helmet, pushing away all that pain and turning it into anger. He would find that princess, and she would be the key to everything. He knew it, As for Geralt, he continued on his journey, but never forgot the young girl he tried so badly to help. The girl who was binded to him, and ended her short miserable life in the arms of the man she loved. He hoped somehow, someway...he could find. Until then, he continued onward, never forgetting Gretchen, the raven who escaped to the Heavens by flying far far away...

The End - Thanks for the reviews! Thought this would be a clever backstory in regards to Cahir's feathers on his helmet. Can't wait for season 2!