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.
Another rumble of thunder sounded through the sky, it was a lot closer than last time and a hell of a lot louder. Roach buckled back, throwing Aldith off of the back, and onto the soaked, swamped floor. "Fucking great, just great. As if I wasn't soaked enough, as if I wasn't already in a foul mood, I get thrown into mud?"
"Aldith." Geralt stifled a laugh, that became easier when he noticed that her half torn blouse had become sheer and completely see through. Everything was visible and he wasn't complaining, he felt a small twitch beneath his trousers - he knew it was time to turn away. "Climb back on, we need to move."
"Easy for you to say, White Wolf, you didn't just land in a completely bogged piece of mud, I'm soaking." Aldith angrily retorted, grabbing Geralt's hand.
"Hm." He hummed lightly, "There is a cloak in one of the saddlebags, use that."
Aldith reached round to the smallest looking saddlebag, and pulled out a thin, sack-like material cloak, not one for ungratefulness, the wrapped the cloak round her and tied it - throwing the hood over her head.
Something caught the lilac haired woman's eye, a hut. It looked abandoned, but offered shelter, and warmth. She couldn't tolerate being in the rain anymore, she needed to wash her clothes and freshen herself up, not letting the opportunity, she called out to her white haired companion, "Geralt! Look, a hut. Quick."
"Faster, Roach." He shouted, ordering Roach to run faster towards the hut. Aldith appeared to of been correct, the hut was abandoned and was the perfect place to shelter. She went to walk in when she stopped and turned around, realising Geralt wasn't following her in, "Don't worry, I'm just tying Roach. I'll be in soon."
Aldith nodded and proceeded to enter the hut, luckily there was still food laid out that she could eat, and a few Kaedwenian Stouts and three bottles of Everluce. This hut hadn't been abandoned long. "Hey Witcher, there's alcohol in here!" She shouted in glee, tearing the cloak off and removing her clothes, she didn't realise Geralt followed in shortly after her shouting - he saw everything. He watched how gracefully she wrapped the cloak back over herself, and laid her clothes out to wash once she had warmed up.
"Fuck." He grunted under his breath. She was beautiful. He had never seen a woman so breathtaking, so intoxicating, so inviting. There was one thing on Geralt's mind, and it shouldn't of been.
Aldith turned around, jumping at Geralt's sudden presence, "I didn't hear you come in." She muttered, her face red with embarrassment when he saw the smirk creep up onto his face. "You saw me undress, didn't you?"
"Mmm." He hummed, he didn't know what else to say until he caught scent of something, "Aldith, wait here." He ordered, walking around the hut, he tried to narrow down what the scent was.
He reached the corner of the hut, and stopped suddenly, causing Aldith to raise a brow in confusion, "Um - Geralt? What're you doing?"
"Just, bare with me." He stared into the corner before bending down, picking at what was left of a human body.
"Geralt, what is it?" Aldith asked, edging closer before stopping right behind Geralt, "Oh my - is that?"
"Yes, judging by how little is left, I'd wager that a Leshen had done this." Geralt turned to look at Aldith, his eyes slightly hooded from the sight of her, but he shrugged it off - they'd both be dead if he didn't find the Leshen and kill it.
"A Leshen? I've heard of them, we had one. The only time we could afford a Witcher. In the woods, where I lived; people went missing, and there wouldn't be much of them left." Aldith looked grimly at Geralt, before turning around and looking over to her soaking wet clothes, "Go, I need to clean my clothes, just don't die."
"I killed that Leshen. I was the only Witcher available in the Velen area, I need to prepare Aldith. How are you versed in Alchemy?" Geralt stood up, and walked over to the middle of the hut, sitting on one of the rotting wooden chairs.
"I'm good, I think. Although in terms of a Witcher potion, hm. Not too sure." Aldith shrugged, scrubbing at her torn blouse.
"I'll tell you what to do." Geralt walked outside to pull his bestiary and alchemic ingredients from one of the saddlebags tied to Roach, before an influx of crows appeared a little ways ahead, "Shit - Aldith, no time. It knows we're here! Stay in the hut and don't fucking move." Geralt ordered from outside, he heard her shout back so he left the front of the hut, and began walking to the crows.
Geralt places his steps carefully, trying to spot what was known as a 'Totem' - commonly found around where the Leshen would reside. He knew destroying it would lure out the monster, so walking slowly was the way to ensure he found it. After walking for about 5 minutes, he stumbled across a strange figure created out of twigs and twine, "Aard oughta' do it." He muttered to himself. With a quick, forceful hand, wind blew from his hand, destroying the formation of branches in front of him.
A bellow ringed through the woods, and Geralt knew he had irritated the Leshen enough to find it, and kill it. Pulling a potion out of his armour pouch, he threw it to the back of his throat, wincing as it went down, before unsheathing the most beautiful silver sword and clasping it tightly in his hand, "Now we wait."
As quick as he heard the roar, what looked like the devil in the shape of a tree appeared before Geralt, throwing tendril - like branches out at him, the Witcher skilfully moved out of the way, and landed a blow on the creature, making it roar and disappear, wolves came running through the woods - the Leshen's army. Geralt cut them down, one of them pouncing behind him and sinking their teeth into his shoulder, "FUCK." He groaned as he spun round, plunging his sword into the wolf's chest. The Leshen roared again, appearing behind him, surrounding itself in a cloud of crows. "Come on, fucker."
The silver glistened when it hit the sunlight, losing its shine again quickly as it was plunged deep into the Leshen's back, stunning it and dealing a critical hit. Geralt knew that one last attack would surely defeat the woodland creature, but again it disappeared and again, wolves descended round the trees and ambushed the Witcher. He knew he couldn't afford to get bitten again, he could already feel the searing pain of the previous, deceased wolf's fangs penetrating deep through his skin. The wolves ran at him, and as time slowed down, Geralt unleashed a forceful Aard Sweep, knocking the wolves back into the tree. "A tedious fight, for no fucking coin." The Witcher growled angrily as he span on the spot, looking for the creature.
His thoughts landed on the burning emanating from his shoulder, as his tunic began to feel wet underneath his armour, and blood started to deep through the holes. They quickly averted to the lilac haired woman, whether or not she was ok, 'You don't care Geralt', he told himself, but he knew he did care - even just a bit. The way her green eyes spiralled with hazel looked at him, and saw him; really saw him. How her body was in perfect proportion with her features. He could never feel anything for the woman, he hid his emotions well. He was better off alone, but for now, he enjoyed her subtle company.
An attack of the White Wolf's back snapped him back to reality, as the Leshen sent one last unrelenting and unmerciful attack before Geralt swung his sword, pushing as hard as he could into the Leshen's heart, before collapsing from excruciating pain. "Shit." He panted, his shoulder dripping blood, and his back bruised. He rolled on to his back and went into his pouch, gripping a potion and drinking it in one. "Whoever created these potions, need a lesson in taste." He winced as the fiery liquid hit his throat, and a low grunt escaped his slightly parted lips.
Climbing to his feet, the Witcher walked back towards the hut, clutching his bleeding shoulder, it needed to be bandaged and he needed a drink, something strong.
Aldith paced the length of the hut, flicking her fingers and picking at her fingernails. "Where are you, Geralt?" She panicked, wrapping the cloak tighter round her whilst her freshly washed clothes hung by the fire. She'd only known this man for three days, and yet she felt an overwhelming urge of worry, and care towards him. He was nothing like the tales she was told as a young girl - yes, he had a cold exterior, stone cold and he was introverted; not often instigating conversation, but she could see it in his eyes - he wasn't a bad man. People often forgot that Witcher's were once human, and underneath all of those mutagens, even after all of the pain they endured through the Trial, they still were deep down.
"Aldith?" Geralt called out, snapping the girl out of her thoughts.
The lilac haired woman span around and ran to the door; swinging it open so hard it bounced off of the wall behind, "Fuck, Geralt you're ok!" She shouted, her voice laced with relief.
"Yeah, the drinks. You haven't drank them?" He asked as he edged closer, gripping his shoulder tighter.
"No, of course not. I've been to busy worrying about you!" Aldith spoke, maybe a little too quickly as she covered her mouth.
"Oh green eyes. Worry about me? I hope someone isn't getting attached." The Witcher smirked.
"God, no. Wait, your shoulder." The woman pointed to the bleeding wound on Geralt's shoulder.
"This? Nothing." He bluntly replied, walking past Aldith, grabbing a bottle and necking the alcohol in what looked like one gulp.
"Here," Aldith said, grabbing her blouse and tearing more of the fabric, "Come here."
Geralt walked over and sat in front of Aldith, resisting the urge to peek through the gap of the cloak at her bare skin. "Hm." He grunted as Aldith wrapped the fabric over the wound. Their eyes met, amber clashing with green. She kneeled in front of him, her eyes never leaving his. His breathing quickened, slightly hitching at the sight of her. Aldith tightened the bandage, leaving her hand on him longer than necessary.
She snapped out of it, and stood up abruptly. Her head was spinning, she had no idea what had just happened. The only thing Aldith knew, is that she never wanted to leave him.