HEART | Geralt

11

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Azalea grunted in pain as her eyes finally peeled awake, but she was bound. Her wrists were bound to something, she couldn't move. She felt something press against both of her arms, her fingers slightly touching others.

"You've awoken." A sneer and a slap. Azalea's head snapped to the side and she let out a small grunt at the impact. She missed the slight growl of anger that emitted from her right. Azalea watched with fury as a boot was extended towards her at a high speed, connecting with her face and making her tilt it upwards. She coughed, spluttered a bit of blood and scowled once more.

"Don't you fucking touch her." Geralt spat and Azalea lowly chuckled, her head shaking side to side.

"Let it be, Ger." She said. The chill in her voice was enough for the White Wolf, and he kept his mouth shut but a scowl more than evident. When Azalea tore her scarlett slit eyes back to the Elves in front of her, a foot made its way to her face once again. But then Geralt was kicked and so was the bard. She began to get slowly more furious with their kidnappers.

"Oi, that's my lute. Give that back!" The bard was ever so loving towards his musical instrument that he didn't really care that one of the Witchers he was currently bound with had blood pouring from her nose whilst the other Witcher was having his share of brutal kicks dealt to his face. "Quick, Geralt!" He pleaded, "do your-your witchering-"

"Shut up!" Geralt growled out, shaking his head in dismay as he then tried to glance towards Azalea. He couldn't hear her breath over the bard's rambling, and how he longed to know if she hadn't simply been murdered. When the possibility and harrowing thought enterred his mind, he felt his chest tighten rather uncomfortably. Dread was all he could then feel as he lived every moment where he couldn't shared a sweet, tender, and long-over-due kiss...but now he couldn't.

"No-" Geralt groaned in pain as the female elf before him sent a harsh kick to his legs, forcing them apart and sending a shooting pain up his crotch all while seething a command at him in the Elder speech.

"Kick him again you writhin' red-head little bitch and i'll come back." Azalea's words were more than venomous, the blood that trickled down her chin only giving in to her threatening look and words. "I'll come back and slaughter you all!" She tried to lean forwards, spitting out the crimson, metallic tasing liquid. Her wrists burned however her hatred blazed with a far more powerful fury.

"Humans," the elf scowled furiously as she maneuvered herself to stand before Azalea with a small pocketed dagger in hand, "shut up!" Bending at the knees, the redheaded elf now stared into Azalea's glowing red slit eyes, her anger being more than prominant as the first female Witcher longed for death to befall the elven woman.

"That's a fuckin' insult to me and Geralt." She laughed lowly, her lips curled in disgust at the elf. "Choose your words kindly, elf." Just as the elf, with her own rage, quickly reached forwards with the dagger in attempt to slit Azalea's throat and drain her of all that kept her alive, the bard decided he had something to say. His words were mumbled, and yet they were in the speech the elf knew best of which only infuriated the rag-clothed woman more.

"Do you wanna die right now?" Her brusquely voice made Azalea roll her head and groan in exasperation.

"As opposed to later?" Geralt growled out, his voice deep and husky as he listened. He had heard Azalea speak only moments before, but her voice was gone as soon as it came and he found himself reaching out with his hand, trying to grasp hers for extra reassurance she was still alive. After all, he too had seen the dagger.