(pls comment and vote) because of the three timelines, i won't do singular filler chapters until at least s2. I would do filler bits inside chapters but not completely, if that makes sense?
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~ 9 YEARS LATER ~
"Hey, little sister." She greeted, standing to her full height and walking towards the girl that had just arrived.
~
Yen had fallen down, the pig food covering almost her whole front, face and part of her hair.
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"Da!" Azalea screeched, her emotions going haywire as she rushed towards Yennefer, willing to fight to keep her sister with her.
~
"You can't take me!" Yennefer cried out, breathing heavily before looking towards Azalea for support. "I won't go."
~
"Yen!" Her tears cascaded down her face, staining her cheeks before she was grabbed by her father and restrained, unable to go any further.
~
Azalea was lurching upright, her eyes blinking and trying to get rid of the snippets. Her mind had, once again, replayed the memories she had once lived through. Instead of the whole thing, however, Azalea was only granted to see snippets of that day, like her mind was playing a joke on her.
"Fuckin' hell." She mumbled, standing up and stretching her body. She and Geralt had rented a room in the inn they were staying at. It had been nine years since the pair of them earned the title of "Butchers of Blaviken". The title gave them a bad name, yes, but they were still able to get their jobs done and earn enough coin.
Anyways, Azalea had forced Geralt to sleep on the bed and that she'd take the floor as the roles were reversed last time, but jokingly, Geralt had offered to share the bed. She wished she had taken him up on that offer, whether he was kidding or not. Her back made a couple satisfying clicks and she sighed, highly pleased that her spine doesn't feel as stiff.
"You feeling old?" The low rumble of words made Azalea roll her eyes, but she chuckled. In nine years, her feelings towards Geralt intensified greatly, but she was still able to hide it from him. She wasn't prepared to lose her several decade friendship just because her heart skips an extra beat or because she gets butterflies when he places his hand on her lower back.
"You feeling old?" Azalea repeated, mocking Geralt as she headed for her clothing and armour pieces so that she could be protected with whichever monster they would battle next. She changed swiftly, uncaring on if she accidentally flashed Geralt, she wasn't in the mood to care.
"You muttered a name under your breath." Geralt confessed, sitting up in bed. His bare chest showed, the scars glistening under the faint sunlight as the sun rose in the sky. He missed how alarmed Azalea looked at him after he had said this. "Yennefer. Who's that?"
Should she lie? No, that wouldn't be good.
"My sister." She swallowed a harsh air bubble, slowing her movements as she prepared to tell the tale of "Azalea and Yennefer". "The dream is always the same." Azalea hoped Geralt would leave it at that because, as her feelings towards the white-haired Witcher grew, so did her inability to lie to him further about her sister.
"Wanna talk about it?" Geralt's eyes were pleading, he begged to know of the past Azalea had before she was brought to Kaer Morhen by Vesemir. And with that, her hopes were crushed as she kissed her teeth, ducking her head.
"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