[ There must be more out in those barren lands. This place isn't exactly teeming with life, but it isn't dead, either. The blight that consumed it with the fall of the dragons...something about their presence undoes it. Not entirely, not even to any significant degree, but the effect cannot be ignored. It means something.
It isn't just about cures and dragons, either. The sovereign territories have made their intentions clear. And though Geralt had initially anticipated Yennefer would sit at the table, he is—in retrospect—glad she is not. It feels as if...they have moved beyond that. Beyond playing at court. Beyond testing the waters with the Queen. Beyond ensuring Yennefer has a place in Thorne in case anything should go wrong.
They are no longer endeavouring to work within the confines of this world and its rules, its politics, its men. Thanedd taught them that lesson well.
The noise he makes is both wry and amused in return. Yes. Well. Even a Witcher needs a fucking break now and again, does he not? His gaze lingers on her face, reading the subtle expressions that flick through her eyes. He opens his mouth to answer—
—only for a hiss to reach his ears before he registers the spark. Geralt's eyes widen a hint. He snatches the remaining book on the table, moving it out of the way as she splashes water over the bubbling experiment. Liquid dribbles onto his boots.
He cocks an eyebrow at her but makes no remark on the progress of her work. They'll be fucking it up for a while until an answer comes. If an answer comes. Geralt isn't being hopeful when he believes one will. He senses something more out there. They just haven't found it yet. ]
I did. [ Geralt returns to the conversation as though no disruption occurred. He wipes a rag over the wet puddle. Yennefer could, of course, magic it away, but he knows even a mage of Yennefer's strength won't expend Chaos frivolously. ] They were made of shadow and magic. Tied to the land itself, if I'm not mistaken. I suspect that's what caused them to latch onto our memories.
[ Since they, too, appear tied to this land. Or the Singularity, specifically. Like spreading, walking roots. ]
no subject
It isn't just about cures and dragons, either. The sovereign territories have made their intentions clear. And though Geralt had initially anticipated Yennefer would sit at the table, he is—in retrospect—glad she is not. It feels as if...they have moved beyond that. Beyond playing at court. Beyond testing the waters with the Queen. Beyond ensuring Yennefer has a place in Thorne in case anything should go wrong.
They are no longer endeavouring to work within the confines of this world and its rules, its politics, its men. Thanedd taught them that lesson well.
The noise he makes is both wry and amused in return. Yes. Well. Even a Witcher needs a fucking break now and again, does he not? His gaze lingers on her face, reading the subtle expressions that flick through her eyes. He opens his mouth to answer—
—only for a hiss to reach his ears before he registers the spark. Geralt's eyes widen a hint. He snatches the remaining book on the table, moving it out of the way as she splashes water over the bubbling experiment. Liquid dribbles onto his boots.
He cocks an eyebrow at her but makes no remark on the progress of her work. They'll be fucking it up for a while until an answer comes. If an answer comes. Geralt isn't being hopeful when he believes one will. He senses something more out there. They just haven't found it yet. ]
I did. [ Geralt returns to the conversation as though no disruption occurred. He wipes a rag over the wet puddle. Yennefer could, of course, magic it away, but he knows even a mage of Yennefer's strength won't expend Chaos frivolously. ] They were made of shadow and magic. Tied to the land itself, if I'm not mistaken. I suspect that's what caused them to latch onto our memories.
[ Since they, too, appear tied to this land. Or the Singularity, specifically. Like spreading, walking roots. ]