horsewhisperer (horsewhisperer) wrote in winterdale, @ 2020-07-12 11:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: geralt, character: jaskier, fandom: the witcher |
Who:Geralt and Ciri with the appearance of Jaskier
When:A week or so after their arrival
Where:Forest in Orrinshire
What:Camping out
Rating:Low
Status:In progress
The forest was quiet, eerily so, save for the sound of the crackling fire. Enough to set the Witcher at unease where he sat, stoking the fire passively. It put him at the same unease as ever, like the quiet before a storm. A certain sign that something was lurking in wait for the opportune moment. Yet, if there were monsters to be found in this forest, they were docile ones, it seemed. Or something kept them that way. The magic hummed in the earth beneath them, twisting through the forest like the veins of an animal, centering somewhere deeper they had yet to tread, unfamiliar and dark. He could say one thing about the Continent as a larger whole: he knew what monsters lurked there. This Winterdale was new and far different from what they knew. That was exactly why he and Ciri were still in the forest.
"G-geralt..."
The small voice came across the fire, drawing his attention with a soft smile. She was uncertain of him, not that he could blame her. The stories of Witchers didn't paint a pleasant picture of who they were and it would come as no surprise if Calanthe only threw wood on that fire. "You're supposed to be asleep," he replied gently, moving from his place across from her to sit closer, without the fire crackling between them. She was no small child, though still young, and with what she had been through recently, no one could blame her for fearing the dark and uncertain.
"I can't..." Ciri sat up, looking somewhat sheepishly at him. How could she not have questions? Questions that he wasn't certain he was prepared to answer. Who is Yennefer? Are we ever going back? Neither answer came more easily than the other. There would come a time, when Ciri had more resolve and experience in life that she would question his decision to come here more closely. Leaving the Continent in ruin with Cintra aflame as Nilfgaard ravaged their line through. When he himself would be plagued by the same, leaving everything else behind. What was his life but one lingering torment after another due to his own actions?
"What can I do to help?" After a moment of hesitation, she reached out a hand which he took into the folds of heavy leather. It seemed to comfort her to have him close, he promised her he would never leave her side again. He fought destiny once and paid the price, as did they all.
"I don't know... Will you tell me where we're going tomorrow?" She was smart, trying to choose what she asked carefully so he would answer instead of dodging the subject, which he was decidedly terrible at in most respects. Avoiding the subject at hand either got blood on his hands or pushed away the few people he cared about.
"There's a town close by. We'll go there and get supplies, clean up. What would you like to do?" She was a young girl, a princess who had no business with a Witcher in the woods, but so destiny had bound them. All the more reason to take her away from the Continent for the time being. If he knew anything about this business with destiny, it seemed to guide you whether you liked it or not. That was why when you acted against it, bad things happened. Destiny as he saw it lead them here getting that letter and so when it wanted him to act again it would surely let him know.
"Remember, you're safe here and I've got you. What tomorrow will bring will be all the more clear in the morning when it's light out." Reluctantly, Ciri settled back down on the rolled wolf pelt that served as a pillow, giving him something of a frown. "I'll stay right here until you do fall asleep..." Geralt knew nothing of being a fit parent, he had very few memories of having one at all and what sort of mother left a boy to become this? Call it another act of fate, it seemed to be the popular excuse. It took some time, as he suspected was common with children, more questions he had vague answers to for Ciri to drift off.
"Are we still sure I can handle this, Roach?" The nickered reply, if you could call it that, made him laugh dryly, reaching back to pat the horse's side with the hand not currently acting like a safety net. "I hope you're right."