[ More. His skin is cold where her hand leaves him. For a long moment, he's silent. He hears what she's saying. He hears that she's telling him this prophecy is about her. That she possesses Elder Blood. He hears it and none of it makes any fucking sense. ]
I... [ Fuck. Fuck. This isn't right. This can't be right. The idea that she was his, what. His Child of Destiny? That some calamity would befall the world if she were not claimed by him? That had been impossible enough. (It was not Destiny that had driven him back to Cintra to find her.) But this, he's.
He wants to tell her she must be mistaken. He knows she isn't. He can see it in her eyes. See that she not only believes what she's saying, she's lived it already. This is why she's told him in no uncertain terms he can't be here. ]
You can't leave. [ That realization sinks in. If she could have escaped that easily, she'd have done so already. Whatever has sealed his mutations has sealed her Elder Blood, too. How? Is the magic drawn from the Singularity that powerful? Another beat goes by. Is it possible? That the High Mage would know this much? Then why lock her away as one of the so-called mistakes? Perhaps—he doesn't know the whole truth. Nothing says that book of his is correctly interpreted at all times.
He nearly tells her that Jaskier and Yennefer are here, too. He stops himself. He's no idea if Cirilla's ever met them. They'd been long from speaking terms by the time he'd returned to Cintra, by the time he'd stepped into those woods—and Geralt doesn't want to know either way. Not right now. So he keeps their names to himself. It isn't important. The only important thing is to get her as far away from Thorne as possible. ]
You can't stay here. [ He leans forward. His nails dig into the soft rotting wood of the bench. ] If they've deemed your summoning an accident—they don't know the full story. They can't learn any of this.
no subject
I... [ Fuck. Fuck. This isn't right. This can't be right. The idea that she was his, what. His Child of Destiny? That some calamity would befall the world if she were not claimed by him? That had been impossible enough. (It was not Destiny that had driven him back to Cintra to find her.) But this, he's.
He wants to tell her she must be mistaken. He knows she isn't. He can see it in her eyes. See that she not only believes what she's saying, she's lived it already. This is why she's told him in no uncertain terms he can't be here. ]
You can't leave. [ That realization sinks in. If she could have escaped that easily, she'd have done so already. Whatever has sealed his mutations has sealed her Elder Blood, too. How? Is the magic drawn from the Singularity that powerful? Another beat goes by. Is it possible? That the High Mage would know this much? Then why lock her away as one of the so-called mistakes? Perhaps—he doesn't know the whole truth. Nothing says that book of his is correctly interpreted at all times.
He nearly tells her that Jaskier and Yennefer are here, too. He stops himself. He's no idea if Cirilla's ever met them. They'd been long from speaking terms by the time he'd returned to Cintra, by the time he'd stepped into those woods—and Geralt doesn't want to know either way. Not right now. So he keeps their names to himself. It isn't important. The only important thing is to get her as far away from Thorne as possible. ]
You can't stay here. [ He leans forward. His nails dig into the soft rotting wood of the bench. ] If they've deemed your summoning an accident—they don't know the full story. They can't learn any of this.