HEART | Geralt

09

"I was seventeen, and Yennefer was thirteen." Another air bubbled was swallowed and Azalea almost shivered as she recalled the day. "A woman, a mage, came to our family farm and originally asked for a pig but was turned down. Then she asked for me, but me da said i was promised to someone else."

"Vesemir." Geralt said with a frown, and he received a firm nod. 

"The woman took my little sister for four marks. I screamed and cried but met the harsh backhand Da had to offer. Then...it was mere moments after the carriage Yen was taken away in did Vesemir show, asking for the law of surprise he had invoked."

"You're Vesemir's Child of Surprise?" Azalea nodded her head, sighing a little. She was one of the only Child Surpises the old Witcher had been granted, in fact, she was sure she was the only one (only one alive, at least). Most paid the Witcher in coin.

"But, yeah, we were seperated. After becoming a Witcher, i spent the first decade searching for her, hoping to see her, but i began to give up. I made my way back to Kaer Morhen for the tenth winter and since then...i've been with you." Sucking in a breath, Azalea stood and walked towards her swords, her eyes blinking away the growing tears. She strapped her swords on her back and picked up her clothing back before looking at Geralt over her shoulder. "I'm putting this on my horse then i'll be waiting for you in the inn." She left without any further words, sighing sadly. 

Perhaps she shouldn't have given up on finding Yennefer as soon as she did?

~

Geralt and Azalea were sat opposed to each other in a booth, each drinking from their mug slowly. They didn't speak much, they weren't sure what to speak of. Geralt had been quiet as he tried to process the fact the girl in front of him was Vesemir's Child Surprise, something he never knew before.

And Azalea was trying to convince herself that she hadn't over shared with Geralt and that hopefully, he didn't think her to be weird. But he didn't look at her with a judgemental gaze, he barely looked at her at all, lost in his thoughts as he stared out of the window.

"You think you're safe..." a lute began to be played as a man sang with his voice being as soft as it could be. This pulled Azalea's attention, and her red eyes glistened with curiosity at the bard the was in the opposite corner of the inn to them. He wore blue clothing, much more fancier than any of the common, peasant folk could afford. "Without a care...but here in Posada...you'd be wise to beware."

As the lute playing got a little more intense, Azalea raised a brow and looked towards Geralt. The Witcher didn't glance towards her still, so she stifled a chuckle to gain his attention.

"The bard is singing."

"That is what bards do." He gruffly responded and Azalea rolled her eyes and shook her head. She hoped Geralt would poke fun of the bard and his singing in an effort to amuse the pair of them, but she hadn't been that fortunate. Just as she opened her mouth to speak further, the bard continued singing.

"Need old Nan the Hag, to stir up a potion...so that your lady may get an abortion...." Azalea's eyes went wider, her mouth agape at the audacity of the bard.

"Abort yourself!" Someone yelled and an onslaught of food was hurtled towards the young man, hitting him and causing him to cower away slightly.

"Stop! Fuck off!" He begged, finally going back to his corner. When the music stopped, Azalea breathed out a puff of air and blinked slowly.

"Well....unique, i suppose." This time, she did receive a quirk of the brow from her dear friend and the man she, *ahem* loved.

"As unique as you, Az." Geralt replied, looking at her as though she were a mystery he had tried to solve. And failed. He thought he knew everything about her, her mannerisms and all that, but here she was. Keeping secrets of a life that was no longer hers. He felt a sense of betrayal; could she not trust him enough?

"Geralt, listen-" her leg was kicked from under the table abruptly, and she cut herself off with a glare towards said man. How dare he?

"I love the way you just...sit in the corner and brood." Glancing to the side slightly, Azalea caught sight of the bard now leaning against a pillar, mug in hand as he looked between them.

"We're here to drink alone." Geralt responded, his deep voice sounding coarse as per usual.

"Good. Yeah, good." The bard nodded. "No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance, except...for you two. Come on. You don't want to keep a man with...bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me. Three words or less." The bard sat his arse down next to Azalea, opposed from Geralt, and looked excitingly between the Witchers.

"They don't exist." With Geralt's words rumbling in the air, Azalea was quick to strap her swords onto her back, ready to leave at a moments notice. Geralt was speaking almost too much to the strange bard.

"What don't exist?" In his spell of confusion, the bard looked towards the woman he sat next to and found her scrutinizing gaze already trained onto him, her scarlett cat slit eyes screaming for him to try something before his gaze landed onto Azalea's scar.

"The creatures in your song." The bard now looked back to Geralt, eyes wide as he took in the man's appearance more closely.

"And how would you know?" He asked anyway before the dots fully connected and a gasp left his lips, causing the bard to lean forwards. "Oh, fun. White hair, big, old loner with only a female for company, two very...very scary-looking swords." Geralt reached for the coin purse he had and tipped it upside down, allowing any coin left to fall onto the table before he stood, Azalea following his lead. "I know who you are."

The friends walked side by side, Geralt with his swords in hand, and Azalea with a dangerous scowl at anyone who allowed their gazes to drift over them for too long.

"You're the Witchers, Geralt of Rivia and Azalea of Vengerberg. Called it!" The Witchers didn't respond, hoping their attempts at ignoring the bard wouldn't be futile, but they couldn't even make it to the exit before they heard the scurrying of feet heading towards them.

"A job i've got for ya's." A man said from behind them, and the pair of them were inclined to leave. "I beg you." The Witchers stopped in their tracks, Azalea slowly turning to face the man. He was fair skinned, a curly mop of hair on his head and dark pleading eyes. "A devil...he's been stealing all our grain." He looked to Azalea, a bit sceptical, but then Geralt turned around and almost towered over her, proving to look more intimidating. "In advance, i'll pay you. A hundred ducat."

"One fifty." Azalea's cold edge to her tone made the poor boy feel as though he were stabbed by ice, but he nodded almost too eagerly and fished into his jacket where he kept his coin purse. He held onto it for a moment, looking at the Witchers with slight hesitation. 

"I've no doubt you'll come through." He held the coin purse out to Geralt before glancing towards Azalea, who slightly glared. "You take no prisoners, so i hear." Geralt glanced at her, too, and sighed. He reached out to take the purse, but Azalea did it first with a small hint of a smile.

"Time to catch us a devil, Ger."

~

a/n

pls comment and vote! I'd very much like to know how this story is going for everyone. x