abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] hands like skeleton bones

[ Whether Julie leaves before he passes out or after, he doesn't know. Doesn't recall. He manages what might count as rest for the night. For what that's worth. And while normally he rises with the sun, here it's the sun which rises him—by beaming straight into his eye through a crack in the curtains. He wakes with bricks on his chest and a violent flame under his leg.

Ugh. Fuck.

A flash is tension runs through him, before he remembers where the hell he is. He sits up gingerly. Logically, he's aware the rest did him some good. His head is a little clearer and he's not on the verge of collapse. But it doesn't feel like it's done much when he's certain the rest of him has still been trampled by what must be a war horse.

He's staring at the floor and the doorway, deciding if he should even entertain the thought of leaving the bed. Geralt is stubborn, but he's also nursed too many injuries to not have a firm grasp on exactly what he can and cannot do. The door is a fool's errand, so he settles for examining the bandages. Only when he hears footsteps approaching does he look up.

They aren't as acquainted as he is with Julie, but she's familiar and he relaxes. Part of him remains uneasy having disrupted the home of several people, not out of a sense of politeness but solely because that's three (four?) people he's now...relying on. He rarely lets himself rely on one.

Still, she's not an unwelcome sight. ] Nadine.

Nurse Nadine this morning.

[She holds the tray in her hands higher. It's covered in little bottles of herbs and liquids, a mortar and pestle, bandages, and other medicinal looking odds and ends. She hated to wake him, but he's already up so that takes care of that. There's a thick gray apron of sorts on over her white shift and blue kirtle.

God, he doesn't look good.]

Julie told me you weren't exactly doing so great. But lucky for you, I've been learning healing and herbalism.

[Due to the last time someone had come stumbling into the inn in the night, needing care. This is starting to become a regular occurrence. This time, though, she has a lot more questions. How is he here? Why? What the hell had happened?]

[ In truth, he was not expecting her to appear with supplies. A knit marks his brows, one that could almost be mistaken for wariness but is simply—a vague sense of bafflement. Julie's already wrapped him up and that's a hell of a lot more than he'd been looking for when he came to her for help. He'd only thought of a place for the night, where he could pass out in relative safety and not in the middle of the town square. ]

I've been better. [ He watches her approach. Has Julie filled her in? He only half-recalls what he told Julie last night. Not much, he thinks. Enough, though. ] You're prepared.

[ Just an observation. Not everyone has a tray as filled as hers. The herbs smell powerful, but not unpleasant. He recognizes most of them; he's scrounged in the woods for similar when he was crawling through, in his own rough attempts to soothe his wounds so he could keep going. Other than that and a couple of cauterized gashes too deep to leave bleeding freely, none of it's been taken care of until he stepped through those doors.

At least he's hard to kill. ]

You are not the first person we know to show up here needing medical attention.

[Nadine's decision wasn't made on a whim. She takes a seat next to the bed and sets the tray on the little table beside it. The pungent smell of herbs rises from it.]

And the last time, we weren't prepared. So now we are. Fair warning, I took a position with a healer maybe three weeks ago so I can't exactly put you back together, but I should be able to ease the worst of it.

[She hands him a little glass vial of a blueish liquid. Her education in this field is just beginning, her knowledge very limited. But she's gleaned enough basics over the last few weeks to be of more use than she would have been.]

Start with this, it's a painkiller.

[ No? His reply is dry, and a hint curious. ] I thought I was special.

[ He'll take any kind of patching. The rest will sort itself out in time, though Geralt is aware he's yet to clarify with Nadine that he isn't...human. But then, his eyes are obvious, she's suggested she isn't either and, mm. Pretty certain those are horns. So perhaps there isn't much clarification needed.

He hesitates only a second before he takes the vial and tips it back. It slides down easier than his elixirs and with much less of a violent burn. ] I just need to stay on my feet.

[ Funny, to think this is technically the first time they've met in person. He'd seen her here and there in the dungeons, but they'd never spoken. ]

I'm sure you're special in other ways. And we can get you on your feet, at least. You seem pretty tough to me.

[The fact that he'd made it here...Nadine can tell even without giving him a proper once over that he was in bad shape. But still going. It says a great deal about him, and while she hasn't concluded he isn't exactly human, she understands he's not an average human.

That's becoming less and less shocking, the more of her fellow displaced that she meets.]

Alright, time for the embarrassing part. I need to get a good look at you. Awkward, but necessary. And there's a sweet breakfast roll in it for you when we're done.

[She's used to children and old habits die hard.]

[ He hums in response, noncommittal. It's rarely a topic he touches on, his durability, if only because it's so deeply interlinked with how he was made.

She does, however, get a raise of his eyebrows. Amusement flickers over his face. She sounds painfully sincere, which is. Oddly endearing. He's gathered enough about her, though, from the first time they met—the children she was so fiercely protective of—a fact he's not quite broached with her. Seems easier to let things lie.

Also, he's not rejecting breakfast. He sure as fuck could eat. ]

Worthy bribe. I'll consider it.

[ His shirt's been off since last night, and he slides out carefully from under the covers to keep from jostling too much. He tugs on the buttons on his trousers. There's been a steady burning on his leg that he hasn't taken a good look at, deciding it wasn't worth stopping over while he was riding. ]

Oh...here, let me help.

[She's supposed to be the doctor here. Or healer. Whatever. The point is, Geralt is busted up and he shouldn't have to exert himself any. Nadine offers an encouraging, if slightly embarrassed, smile and kneels to help him get his pants off.]

We can probably scrounge up some fresh clothes for you, too.

[Though probably nothing of Lloyd's, Geralt is about twice the size. There's bound to be something lying around.]

Now. You want to give me the general idea of what happened to you?

[Beyond the obvious. But some details might help, give her any sense of if she should be checking for internal damage as well what can easily be seen. Whatever help she offers won't do much good if he keels over dead two days later.]

[ His fingers are stiff and uncooperative, though there's a sense he's done this before at half-capacity—the practiced way his thumb forces a button until it simply slips free. Only when Nadine crouches down does he let her take over, for the sake of efficiency. He shifts to help her tug them off with a wince.

That's a fucking question, isn't it. A sudden tension rises in his shoulders. Maybe the better question is, what hadn't happened? ]

Magic. Mostly. [ If it left lasting marks on him inside, he can't yet tell. He thinks he remembers throwing up blood, maybe something snapping. How much happened in reality, it's—blurry. And not an event he wants to dig through in detail. He focuses on the easier parts for now, unwinding a bandage around his middle: injuries he picked up during the initial scuffle or getting to Nott. He's usually better, more careful. The woods are as much home for him as any place. But he knows this time around, he's just lucky he hadn't passed out and never gotten up. ]

Must've broken a rib or two. [ Feels like it. He can't remember when. Bruises wind up his arms and down his legs, fading far too slowly for his liking. They should be healed by now, if they'd been normal ones. ] A few mages came for me. Out in the desert. Seems Thorne's reach is further than we thought.

[Nadine gets Geralt's pants off and sets them aside, frowning some at the damage she can already see. Her face contorts in confusion as he explains, and she settles herself beside the bed again.]

What do you mean Thorne came after you? I thought they weren't going after any of us that left.

[That had been the word along the grapevine. What the hell happened? Are she and her little band in any danger, still within the borders of Thorne?

But that's not the priority at the moment, Geralt is.]

Lay back. I'm going to touch you now, is that alright?

As did I. [ He hesitates, then lays back, making a vague gesture for her to do as she will, as if he'd not expected to be asked in the first place. It might not be the priority for her, but it's where his thought turns to, as well. Who else is in danger? Is anyone in danger?

His circumstances were hardly typical. Still. ]

They wanted me especially. [ He doesn't want Nadine believing that Thorne had taken him on a whim. That isn't what happened. Their decision had been calculated; he isn't even certain if Thorne as a whole is responsible. The queen obviously has her own ambitions outside even her small council. Ambitions which now include Yennefer. ] I know someone in their court, from home.

[ He leaves it at that. The details aren't important. Thorne is not, so far, after merely anyone who fled. But it'd seem they have the capability to do so if they desire, and the willingness to act on it. That's worth noting by itself. ]

Oh. That...sounds like a complicated problem. I'm sorry.

[Nadine frowns, tucking the information away as she begins to slowly, and as gently as possible, feel down Geralt's arms for any breaks or particularly alarming swelling. She uses both hands, needing both hands with the size of his arms.]

We've been trying to stay out of their way and off of their radar. We want to head to the Free Cities eventually, but that's in the future. We don't have any reason to stick around in Thorne long term, though.

[There's no point in vengeance on their own, none of them care that much.]

[ Mm. Yeah. Complicated. He huffs softly. It feels like things have been complicated for far too long.

She'll find no breaks, though his shoulder bears signs of having recently been popped back in and a gash on his arm that's been flame-sealed shut with less care than it should've, as though an infection of the wound is not his foremost concern nor the extra scarring it will leave behind. Which, for him, it isn't. It's already showing faint signs of healing. There's less right about one of his fingers on his left hand, however, swelling at the knuckle.

He tilts his head at her, a question in his eyes. Last they spoke, she'd sounded certain Nott was where she needed to be. That'd been, what. Eight weeks ago? More? Long enough for winds to shift. ] You changed your mind.

[ He can't promise they'll be safer in the Free Cities, all considered. Likely better than Nott, though. He remembers the maps: whether coming from Solvunn or the Free Cities, Nott stands directly between the rest of the continent and the castle by land. The last place you want to be. ]

Yeah.

[Nadine's tone is vaguely distracted as she asses the damage, noting spots that require immediate attention. She moves to his torso next, repeating the same cautious exploration with her fingertips.]

It was Randall, my husband, who'd wanted to come here. He's gone now, and the rest of us don't really have any reason to hang around long-term. But I'm learning magic, and I get the impression that wouldn't be as easy in the Free Cities.

[And she still wanted Julie to try her hand at wild magic, which was the magic of choice here in Nott. They had opportunities they still needed to take advantage of while they could.]

[ Gone? Hm. Another to the list. He eyes her, uncertain if Nadine's simply not keen to let on how she feels about it or if there's something else there. All he knows is when he'd mentioned Nadine's marriage to Julie, he'd received a scoff in reply. ] When did he vanish?

[ His question is, in part, to figure out exactly when all these people have been found missing—if there's a pattern, one he's been trying to determine for the past few weeks. The other part is...it feels like he's missing a piece of the picture, from what little he's learned of Nadine and her husband. Bits and pieces that don't quite all fit.

Not that he's here to dig into anyone's business, even if his head weren't throbbing. Still. (He's always had a more deft hand at puzzling out relationships that aren't his own.)

He shifts when Nadine prods him by inches, and it occurs to him what she might be looking for. ] It's—I didn't pierce anything. [ Probably. If he had, it wasn't enough to drop him, which means it'll fix itself on its own. ]

Edited 2021-11-26 06:21 (UTC)

About a week before Julie's party. He's gone gone. Not in this world anymore.

[Nadine nods at Geralt's clarification, trusting that he knows his own body. She turns her attention to her tray, picking up a glass bottle of oil and peering at the handwritten label.]

We're connected, I'd feel him if he were still here.

[Since she understands she needs to explain how she can just know a thing like that so surely. She uncorks the bottle and drips some of the pungent smelling oil into her palm. The scent of herbs and something sharp fill the room.]

I know other people have vanished like that, too.

[ Geralt peers at her closely, brows drawn together. Julie's party. As in when she took to bed with Jaskier? He'd given it little thought at the time, when Jaskier had spoken of it offhand—marriage is not the obstacle some want to believe it is—but there's a difference between doing so behind your husband's back (or with his knowledge; who knows what arrangement they had?) and doing so only days after he disappeared without a trace.

Geralt's not judging. More that Nadine has never struck him as callous and he isn't sure that's quite what's going on. It feels more...complicated. Which is the last thing he needs, so he keeps any questions to himself. A beat passes. ]

Someone vanished two months ago. Then I found him. In Thorne. [ Add that to the pile of shit that's on his plate since he was snatched out of the desert. He hasn't even begun to work out what the fuck it means, that Mal's reappeared as if nothing ever happened. ] No memory of having been here.

[ He needs to talk to Sam about this. Which poses a few issues of its own, given Sam's—forget it. He'll cross that bridge when it comes. ]

[Nadine notes the look and only raises her eyebrows curiously. She wonders idly what Julie's told him. How much he knows.]

That's...alarming. Okay, this is going to feel warm. That's normal.

[She begins working the oil gently over the worst of the bruises on Geralt's arms and torso, trying not to put much pressure on the tender spots. At least this should ease the ache and encourage healing. She can feel the heat of it beginning on her own hands.

Better to focus on that than think about people just being yanked out of this plane of existence with no warning. Or being grabbed by Thorne and memory wiped or something. That's something to worry about later, in bed when she can't sleep and all the dark thoughts come.]

[ Alarming. That's one way to put it. He's expecting questions; she offers none and it's a relief. He hasn't got any answers. He only knows what he saw, what Mal said to him, and even that's not altogether clear in his memory. The only thing he's certain of is he had not hallucinated it. Probably. He thinks.

He'd been unsure of what kind of healing magic she'd be using on him; they're only oils and herbs, though—all things he's familiar with—and he relaxes a bit further. He isn't keen on more spells being cast over him. Rather had enough of that for the next decade or so.

There's only one part of him that he's been hesitant to address. It's also the one part he's been unable to even attempt to take care of on his own: the absolute state of his back. Even to the untrained eye, he can't pass it off as something he picked up during a fight, or a misstep on the trail. Not that he's hiding it, necessarily. It's just—complicated.

Nadine has not prodded him much so far, though. Either way, it needs attention. It'll fester otherwise. He waits until she's finished, then eases himself around, unbinding what remains of the bandages wrapped around him. ] Don't ask.

[Nadine lets out a low hiss when Geralt shows her his back. That...that's a mess, and puts her in mind of things she really doesn't want to think about. Swallowing hard, she does her best to adhere to his request.]

I have to ask some questions. Were these thoroughly washed after they happened? Have you been in sanitary conditions since?

[Though she can imagine the answers to both those questions. She's already sorting through her little bottles and pouches, looking over the labels and trying to recall the specific combinations she's been taught.]

[ Mm. That's roughly the reaction he expects. He can't see it, but it feels...not nice. He glances over his shoulder. Considers what she's starting to put together, from all the things he isn't saying. In a sense, the injuries weigh on him the least. They all heal sooner or later.

Perhaps it's for the best not all of his wounds are visible. ]

It doesn't matter for me. [ In the same way he cannot fall ill, his wounds almost never spread into his bloodstream. The worst of it just needs to be closed up. ] I stopped by a river.

[ He'd made some attempt to clean the blood off, largely to keep it from sticking and pulling against his skin. He's lucky he didn't run into anything in the woods—thinks the winter helped, with most animals and beasts hibernating from the oncoming frost. ]

Edited 2021-11-29 05:08 (UTC)

Mmm.

[Nadine isn't so certain all the same rules apply in this world, but that's only a vague idea she has based on Flagg. Geralt knows his body and his system, and he's obviously made of sturdier stuff than your average human.]

They still need to be properly cleaned to heal right. You'll end up with raised ridges that always itch otherwise. Some of these might need stitching...

[Which, at least, she's well prepared to do. With proper sinew thread and needle, not fishing line and an improvised hook. But cleaning first. She abandons her search for anti-infection ingredients and goes for the cleaning solvent instead. At least it isn't the sort that stings, it's supposed to be quite soothing.]

You're really testing my few weeks of education here.

[ Geralt explains not much else. Mostly, he just doesn't want her to worry where it isn't needed. Which is new in and of itself. For someone to worry about him. If anything, it's often been the other way around—not even solely out of a lack of care, but that people overestimate what he's capable of withstanding and healing. A few decades of rumours will do that.

He huffs. ] Consider me a tutoring session, after hours.

[ Besides, at least he's not the worst to practice on. Can't go too wrong, unless her hand really slips, and he doesn't give a damn about how pretty it looks afterwards. She'll find enough roughly mended scars on his skin underneath all the fresh lesions. He leans forward on his hands so she can have a better look. It burns, still, but whatever she had him tip back earlier is working, and some of it's dulled a bit. ]

I don't often end up in the hands of a healer of any sort.

Lucky me, getting to tend what few have tended before.

[She chuckles a bit as she tips a healthy dollop of the solvent into her palm. She lets it warm a moment before spreading it on both hands and turning her attention to Geralt's back. Her touch is gentle as she begins dabbing the clear cleaning ointment into the largest and worst looking of the wounds.

It's not good, on close inspection. Nadine can see too much raw and exposed flesh. But there's no red spreading from the wound, and no darkening at the open edges. No infection, just like he'd said.

What the hell had they done to him?]

Yeah, this is going to need stitches. That I've done before.

[ The breath he takes is sharp as soon as her hand settles against his skin. He curls his fingers into his palm, though the rest of him is still. Lucky her indeed. At some point, he will need to explain...more. For the moment, Nadine's let it go and Geralt is not inclined to offer much on his own. There's a lot he hasn't had the space to think over, a lot more he doesn't want to. ]

Your first patient? [ The one she'd mentioned, he presumes, when she'd said he was not the first to have stumbled in here. Or have there been others since then? Others before to that?

Funny, how things were almost less complicated while they were trapped in the dungeons. Not that he misses that, either. Just. He can't help feeling like they've all been on a constant downhill slope since. ]

nadine.

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