Aldith, Forever. (The Witcher.)

t h e p a t h

The sea roared angrily and waves lashed against the rocks, a storm was brewing as thick, black clouds blanketed the entire sky. Any ship trying to sail along the Northern Sea, would surely sink, as no amount of light emanating from the small lighthouse on the cliffs edge would guide any sailor to safety.

It had been two days since Aldith had swayed Geralt to travel with him, temporarily. He wasn't happy about it, however, unlike any female he had met - Aldith enjoyed peace and quiet, and could quite happily sit in comfortable silence; watching Geralt craft a potion, or just sit and take in a view. But it was only until she found somewhere to settle in, somewhere suitable and accepting of her blatant different looks.

"You never did mention where your hair colour stemmed from," Geralt hummed from below Aldith as he gripped the reigns of Roach a little tighter, guiding his horse out of the storm that was brewing above them. "It's not a usual hair colour Aldith."

"I've told you, I don't know. My mother was blonde, my father brunette and my brother a mixture of the two. All of them had brown eyes too. I'm the odd one out, I suppose." She shrugged, giving Roach a small pat on the side, whilst comfortably riding him.

"Does that not strike you as - hm - strange?" Geralt tilted his head and stopped to stare at Aldith.

She shook her head, "No, I've never taken the time to think about it."

Geralt felt as though that was her way of finalising the conversation, he didn't mind. He knew why she was different to her family, she clearly wasn't a blood relative, but an adopted relative. His thoughts on her being elven didn't add up, so he had decided she must of been a sorceress, she just didn't know it yet.

The cloud continued to thicken and the waves only got higher, threatening to spill over the rocks - this was a warning to Geralt that they should move quicker, and possibly find shelter. The distant rolling rumble of thunder solidified this - letting go of the reigns and jumping atop of Roach, they fled from the sea front and into the trees.

The forest was pitch black, no sun was shining through the trees, just rain drops falling heavily, and the glare of a large, opaque cloud. Aldith had no idea where they were or where they were going, but she knew she needed some new shoes - she had hoped Geralt would notice and offer to pay a passing merchant for some boots, but she quickly dismissed the thought when she saw the state of Geralt's armour and realised there was more chance of Queen Calanthe losing a war.

"We need to find somewhere to shelter, and sleep. This rain isn't letting up any." Aldith stated, looking up through the gaps in the trees.

"A village could be a day's ride, maybe more. We'll need to make do with what we can find." Geralt responses, his tone laced with annoyance.

"And what if there is nowhere?"

Geralt sighed, dipped his head slightly before opening his mouth, "Then you sleep on a blanket of wet leaves and mud, Aldith. I don't know, I'm not magic, nor am I a seer, or a psychic." After letting some of his emotions slip after the incident in Blaviken, his cold exterior didn't falter - not once. He knew nothing of this girl, yet his façade faltered in front of her; something that the Witcher thought to be impossible.

"Right." Was all the lilac haired woman could muster after being put in her place, but Geralt wasn't finished.

"Considering you lived on the outskirts of Velen, I thought you'd be used to living like shit." Geralt immediately wish he didn't open his mouth, he just couldn't stop himself from talking around this woman.

Maybe if he pushed her away enough, she'd leave.

Aldith was lost for words, so she decided to just keep quiet, and not retaliate. She enjoyed silence, so she took in her surroundings, the water rolling off the leaves as it fell, the smell of damp mud lingering and being pushed through the air by the occasional gust of wind.