[ CLOSED ] hands like skeleton bones

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + the Queen, Yennefer, Various
When: After Nov. 12
Where: Castle Thorne, Nott, Cadens
What: Geralt goes on an Adventure and has a great time
Warnings: Blood, violence, trauma



(( placing starters in the comments below. find me at discontinued or at Noa#1979 to plot stuff! ))

THORNE: the queen + yennefer | kylo | mal | jolene
NOTT: julie | nadine | lloyd
CADENS: jaskier + sam | sam | ciri | jaskier

Comments

[wiedzminka]

[ Her smile softens. She wrings out the cloth to keep it from unruly dripping. ]

Please, Geralt. What kind of argument is that? I'm not the one being bullied into bedrest right now.

[ He really is a mess, smeared with previous attempts at washing, or just sort of wiping away blood and grime. Ciri dabs at his brow and temples, working the dried blood out of his hairline. For a while, she is quiet, focusing on her task -- water, washcloth, fingers brushing out his hair and getting as much of the grime out of it as possible without a proper bath. The back of his neck. The tops of his shoulders, avoiding the bandages.

It's true; she has seen him in far worse shape. This doesn't even come close, but in truth, she does not wish to see him that way ever again. ]

I'm glad you're home, Geralt.

[ The words leave her lips almost on accident, so soft a normal human might not have been able to hear without straining. It's not Sam's house she means. ]

[gynvael]

[ His expression says there is truth to that, but also: they can both be bullied into bedrest. He tilts his head for her to wipe at his neck, and he reaches up with a thumb to scrub at what he can feel clinging to his skin on the other side. He looks forward to when he can get to his feet without his entire body protesting each time.

He softens, placing a hand on her knee. ] I'd never leave you for long. [ Not if he can help it. It's a promise, one that almost sits too heavy in the air. He pauses before adding, ] And Jaskier is a terrible menace to be alone with.

[ He's glad, actually, that Jaskier was here. He's not certain what he'd have done if he hadn't been able to rely on Jaskier, to know that at least someone he trusted was looking out for Ciri. Someone she had a chance of listening to. ]

[wiedzminka]

[ Ciri is quiet for a moment, swallowing several times against the lump stubbornly lodged in her throat. She does not question Geralt's promise. They both know the limits of it-- and the strength of conviction, care, and destiny behind it, too.

They will keep finding each other. ]

Mm.

[ It's a rough sound in her throat, of agreement perhaps. Or something else. Ciri gets more soap on the cloth to wipe around the edges of the bandages on Geralt's shoulders, careful not to get the dressings beneath wet.

The (affectionate; she can tell) dig at Jaskier tugs her lips into a smile, fond. ]

Indeed. He menaced me aplenty with words of encouragement and freshly-baked bread.

[ Ciri has no idea how she'd have managed alone. Far worse, that's for certain. ]

[gynvael]

[ He grows quiet, too. He does not like making promises he can't keep. Sometimes it feels like this is one where he can't, and yet he knows he won't allow himself to not keep it, either.

His heart feels tight. There's a faint smile at the image of Jaskier anxiously baking bread. It fades quickly, half-hearted. He wants to feel better about being home, and in some ways he does. But in other ways, it opens...paths he does not wish to walk. Doors he'd forced shut while he'd been busy trying to make it through the night.

He pushes it aside once more. There are things she needs to know, things he will tell her. He just needs some time to think, and he suspects she needs it, too, before she attempts the questions that undoubtedly burn inside her. They will not be answers she wants to hear, but they both know he will not mince words with her. ] I'm expecting you saved me at least half a loaf.

[ Feels like circumstances call for freshly baked bread, at the very least. ]

[wiedzminka]

Still have several, in fact. I'll bring you some later. And again tomorrow, I suspect.

[ Considering the somewhat crowded situation in their home right now and how terribly beat-up and exhausted Geralt still looks, Ciri suspects he'll stay where there are fewer people and extra beds at least a little longer. It doesn't bother her; either way, he's safe. Where she can find him again.

She's just not used to being so worried for him.

For a few minutes, Ciri works in silence, rubbing away the blood where she can, drying off the damp spots with a fresh towel. Thinking about how many bandages there are. How worn Geralt looks. About Thorne, and how easy it had been for their mages to take him. About how no one would have known but for a small stroke of luck. (Is there really such a thing as luck? Or was it something more?)

There have been times, before (that she will not talk about and doesn't wish to linger on), reminders that he is as mortal as any man. They clash against her bone-deep belief in Geralt as a constant, no matter how far apart they are, the one person she can count on to return through the powers of a force as old as the universe. They have a fickle relationship, Destiny and her Child of the Elder Blood, but there is one thing Ciri believes, no matter how hypocritical it may seem to anyone else. She is meant to be here because he is here.

The idea that he could simply disappear, that he could perish alone thousands of miles away in a foreign world without her even knowing--

It scares her. Very much.

Ciri's hand stills, then drops away, tossing the cloth somewhere off to the side. Her forehead presses into Geralt's shoulder. ]

I love you.

[ Barely a whisper, as though it is a secret, but though they're often shown the words are rarely spoken. Rarely needed. This feels needed now. ]

You don't... have to say anything.

[ He doesn't remember. But that's all right. ]

[gynvael]

[ She isn't wrong, that he would prefer to be here where it's quieter, with more room. He knows Sam will not mind. It's a knowledge he isn't used to having, or accepting, but one which is...not unwelcome. He stays silent with a hundred words on his tongue he does not yet want to put out into the open. For awhile, it's enough to just be here, knowing she's safe, knowing that she can rest easy with him home again. Or as much as she will be able to, after everything.

He almost doesn't hear the words—not because they're too softly spoken, but because they catch him off guard. His heart is painfully heavy. He's never meant this much to anyone before. Deep down, he knows he's always wanted it, this feeling, maybe has been searching for it his entire life as much as he avoided having it, afraid it would slip from his grasp like everything else. But despite it all, Ciri has wound up here with him here in this foreign world. And ever since she has, he's wanted to...try again. With her. To be what she needs. Even if it leaves him feeling far too exposed, beyond what he's ever allowed himself to be.

He swallows hard. His fingers curl around Ciri's hand. They are rough, like his own; he's thought about it sometimes, what happened in those absent years between them that pushed her into the life of a Witcher. If she'd really chosen it or not. He knows it's not what he would've wanted for her, but at the same time, he can see how much it suits her, too. How much she finds her purpose in it. Isn't that all any of them can ask for? To have a reason to live through this shit world? ​]

You are important to me. More than anything. [ More than anyone, no matter where they are. It makes no difference, that there are things he doesn't remember, that they are separated by time. Not anymore. Not if she feels the same in return. He wants her to know that. ]

[wiedzminka]

[ Her hand turns in his, squeezes around his fingers in return. Ciri breathes out, closing her eyes. Letting the silence settle around his words.

More than anything.

It's strange. He doesn't even remember, and yet--

She believes him. Completely. The same way she believed in him when she was a child, searching for a safe harbor when she'd been unmoored from her life and all those who had loved her growing up. Not because he is bound to her by Destiny. Because he is her family. ]

...I know. [ Ciri murmurs, letting the moment stretch on.

She will resume her work shortly. She'll make sure he has what he needs, get him some food (one of Jaskier's loaves of bread, which have remained surprisingly fresh). When he needs to rest, she'll leave, and when he wakes up, she will come back to do it all again tomorrow, until he can stand on his own two feet once more.

He would do the same for her. ]