worstsin | (no subject)

Entry tags:

amalthea,
nina

(no subject)

There was something wrong happening.

At first Geralt had avoided the woods, because it felt like that off-ness was concentrated there. The birds and insects had gone quiet at first, and soon after they'd started to flee to the forest's edges. Though autumn had barely begun, in some areas Geralt found trees turning rusty, leaves dying off.

That had been at first, and from there things had gotten wronger.

When Geralt realized what was happening, he went to the woods. He worried it had no longer become an issue of protecting himself until he managed to leave Darrow, but of protecting Darrow potentially from himself.

Whatever corruption existed in the forest, growing and spreading, it affected his body, and his mind. It had twisted itself around the witcher mutations, had expressed them in new ways, or simply more.

And so Geralt was back at his old camp. Hiding, biding time, and keeping a baleful eye on the situation. He ought to do something about it, but what? What could he do, when he didn't even understand what was happening to himself?

He sat beside the fire, hunkered over an evening meal in a foulest mood. His skin was paler than usual, dark veins standing out against the white. All of his senses screamed. He gripped his dinner in hands that had begun to end in blackened, pointed nails, that reminded Geralt too much of Regis. That was the bruxa in him, no doubt, a fact that he wanted to put little thought into, if he could avoid it.

The canines that filled his mouth too much more than they used to, those were likely more attributable to a manticore mutagen.

And the fact that he had made dinner of a squirrel, and had not felt the bother or desire to cook it, that Geralt wanted to put thought into even less.

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"Contracts," he said. "Witchering." What else was there? Geralt's life wasn't the sort that allowed for much straying. Whether the world was crumbling apart, or whether his body was, there was work to do on the Path.

"And somebody should be figuring out what's going on here, and fixing it. But that's ... I'm not suited to it, right now. There's got to be someone out there that actually understands all of this."

Geralt grimaced and pulled his hand away from Nina.

"It was hard enough getting people to cooperate enough to make things easier for me before."

Now, he dreaded leaving the cover of the trees, even if they seemed to be dying.

"Let me help," she said quietly. She didn't try to keep hold of his hand but she didn't break eye contact, either. Geralt seemed more monstrous but she had worked with monsters before - ones that looked perfectly human and were capable of deep wickedness. Whatever was happening to Geralt, she still trusted him and she still cared for him.

So she wasn't going to just abandon him to suffering if she didn't have to.

Geralt shrank away, but only for a heartbeat. He'd had a sudden, irrational thought that if Nina tried anything, either she might knock something loose that couldn't be put back rightly, or she might feel or sense something that horrified her.

The idea made him a little sick. Like he was accusing himself of being a monster all along, which only a familiar, human face hid from sight.

"Is it safe for you?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But I want to try anyway."

Nina didn't think that trying to slow or ease the intensity of his mutations would hurt her. She might not even be successful. She didn't think some part of him could somehow rub off on her, and she doubted anything she felt would frighten her now.

And even if it did, she was a soldier, unflinching in her duty. She cared about Geralt and she was willing to endure horrors for people she cared for.

"At worst, I think, nothing will happen. At best I might be able to ease some of your... symptoms." She wasn't sure what else to call them.

Geralt groaned, but then gave Nina a nod for the go-ahead. He might have been dubious, worried for her sake, but he was also reasonable. Geralt was simply a witcher, and Nina, Nina was the expert on Nina and her abilities.

He wouldn't argue, or give her a hard time or stubborn lip. Geralt was too tired for it that night anyway. It had been a long week.

Lifting a hand, he pulled one corner of his mouth up, revealing his gums, and leonine canine teeth that were looking very nearly too big to belong in his mouth. Of everything that was going on, it was not what disturbed him most, but the silliness of it was that, cosmetic though it was, it pissed Geralt off.

It made eating hard, and it made talking stupid.

"Can you start there?"

Nina sighed her relief when he didn't fight her. It was his body and she would not invade it like that without his permission, but she was grateful that he was not making her beg. She moved closer to get a look at his canines.

"I don't have my tailoring kit," she said with a soft sound of frustration. "I'll do my best. I've never done anything quite like this before, and I want to warn you that even if it does work... it might only be temporary. Something is causing this, and if it isn't inside of you then it needs to be resolved first."

And she hoped it would be. "Could you meditate? Or at least... just sit quietly and breathe deeply."

Nina seemed to do the same, but she kept her eyes open and before long her hands began to move in subtle, small gestures. She sought out places where the physical manifestations of his genetic mutations were seeming to go haywire.

Rather than focusing on one part of him, though, she tried to focus on the way his body was feeding into these mutations and making them... more. She tried to find the threads of it, to slow it down since she knew she couldn't cut them off. This wasn't like breathing lungs or a beating heart. THis was cellular. It moved too fast for her to stop it at the source but... but she could slow it down, maybe roll parts of it back.

Her fingers curled toward herself like she was coaxing something.

"Tailoring kit?" Geralt blurted, sounding actually concerned for a half-moment. He was reminded of when Yennefer had forced him to use her potestaquisitor. Arcane tools he had no understanding of, or use for.

But he did as Nina told him. He let his chin drop to his chest, his eyes close. Soon their breathing was matched. And it wasn't long until he felt a change, however subtle. Nina had managed to stop, or move back, some of what was happening. Geralt wasn't even certain of all of the ways in which it helped, because he wasn't certain to begin with what all had happened.

But by the time Nina was done, he'd gotten what he asked for. His mouth felt more normal. He could almost ignore the change.

The teeth, above all, had bothered him. Everything else, he could go about his daily business without notice. But the over-crowded feeling in his mouth had been constant and overwhelming.

It took time, and Nina felt a weird mix of energy and exhaustion when she was done. Using her power always left her feeling amazing, but this had required far more concentration than she usually needed because of the detail required, because of how quickly the body metabolized and changed: because Geralt's body did those things even faster.

As she focused again she gave him a tired smile. "How does that feel?"

Geralt gave Nina a forced smile, enough to show most of his teeth. It was an off expression, for reasons entirely unrelated to his present situation. But it did illustrate well that Nina had been mostly successful, and Geralt was probably not about to bite his tongue any more than he already had.

Which was good, because even witchers weren't immune from mouth ulcers.

"You okay?"

He looked at her dubiously, worried she might have wasted some finite energy on helping him like that. There might be someone who needed it more in the future. Things were seeming grim.

"I'm fine. Working on that level isn't something I've had a lot of practice with and it took more concentration than most other things I do." Geralt had seen what she was capable of with a flick of the wrist and a clench of her fingers. This had been far more nuanced and subtle.

Nina moved closer and more or less tucked herself into Geralt's lap so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

"You smell better."

At first Geralt nearly flinched away from the touch, afraid that it might be too much and too sudden in the mood that he was in. But there was, again, no fighting with Nina.

Eventually, he settled his arms around her, the touch very light and uncertain. He tried his best to ignore how she smelled, which at the present was heady, a combination of her usual perfume, drifting from her hair, of woman, and of something that made Geralt deeply hungry, not to kiss her neck, but to tear into it.

"Was probably the manticore, or maybe some griffin. Some kind of hybrid. They have an ... odor. Like a tomcat."

Geralt wondered if he shouldn't hold her tighter, but his nerves were still shaken.

Nina didn't push harder than she already had. Geralt let her this close, she would let him take his time from there. It felt good to have his arms around her, even if his touch was light.

"I started missing you," she admitted quietly. "Then I was annoyed, and then I got worried. Even if you end up smelling like a tomcat again before whatever this is passes, just... let me know you're alright. And I suppose if you need to disappear I'll try to let you."

Geralt tilted his head to look down at Nina with a strange expression of amusement. He supposed that he should be glad he could still muster it, in the state he was in.

"What, you couldn't pick just one?"

Nina rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. She slid one hand up to gently curl her fingers in Geralt's hair.

"Why pick one when I can have all three? Besides, it was more like overlapping than a neat, sequential march. For instance, now that you're alright, I'm mildly frustrated with you, but mostly just relieved."

"Sorry," Geralt said, sounding actually contrite. He shuffled Nina slightly against him, moving her so that she could rest her side and head against his chest and shoulder.

It freed up one hand to adjust the fire in front of them, aerating the coals.

"You want me to walk you back home? I could put this out, pack up and go back with you."

He didn't like the idea, but he would do it, for her. Though he was also sorely tempted just to leave the fire burning. It might burn the woods down, and that might even help the situation. But it probably would not.

"It's alright," she murmured as she settled into a better position against Geralt. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing him in. "I would probably have hidden, too."

A little smile touched her mouth and she opened her eyes to peer up at him. That he would pack up and come back with her was endearing. She leaned up to kiss Geralt's cheek.

"Or we could stay out here," she offered.

"What, really? You didn't strike me as the camping type."

Geralt knew, of course, that it wasn't the camping experience that would keep Nina there with him, if she stayed. He sat there, listening to her breathing, in and out.

"Seriously, though." He met her look with one of his own, yellow eyes searching her for any visible sense of misgiving. She didn't smell anxious, or afraid, but human habit had him looking for other signs.

"If you're okay with it. And if Inej won't kill me for it the next time she finds me."

Edited 2017-09-21 22:07 (UTC)

Nina laughed. She supposed she deserved that. "I'm a trained soldier, Geralt. I've slept in more unpleasant places than this. At least once with someone that wanted to actively kill me and only refrained because I was keeping him alive."

She lifted an eyebrow at him; her eyes were warm, maybe a little amused. Her smile lingered even as she leaned in to give him a kiss. "Seriously though," she echoed gently. "I'm happy to stay out here with you if you want the company. And if Inej tries anything, I'll break Kaz's other leg."

Geralt kissed her. He couldn't keep himself from doing so, not when every cell of his body felt wound tight. He'd wanted to eat her up since the moment she arrived and he caught the smell of sandalwood from her hair, the look of her skin in the firelight.

It was a strong kiss, his tongue searching into her mouth, though his teeth were careful of hurting her. He didn't trust them, not the way he was.

Geralt lifted her arm, slid the fabric of her cardigan up. He moved his mouth down it, from the inside of her elbow to her wrist, where he licked, kissed, until he knew he felt her start to shiver from the touch and not the cold of eveningfall under the cover of trees.

Edited 2017-09-21 23:02 (UTC)

The kiss startled her but rather than pulling back, Nina pushed to meet him. She opened to him, because she really had worried, and she felt silly for feeling his absence as much as she had.

She turned toward him more, held his shoulder tightly.

While Geralt's mouth was more gentle, Nina bit his bottom lip before he pulled away. Heat rushed into her cheeks as his mouth teased down her arm, from elbow to wrist.

"Saints, Geralt," she whispered, a bit breathless.

"Not sure they had anything to do with it."

Geralt's breath was low, hot, even. His body felt too warm, too quickly. There was a noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and a growl, and he reached for Nina's hips and lifted her, settling her back down straddling his lap. He pressed their foreheads together, the unnatural heat of his against Nina. Her own skin felt cool to his touch.

"If we keep this up, I'm not going to be able to stop at just putting my mouth on you."

It was something he'd never said before. Geralt had very good control over himself, always. Never became so excited. He stared at Nina.

He would never hurt her, not even under the circumstances. But she may not be interested in what he was suggesting, and she deserved to have at least one final chance to get out, to leave.

She'd been so aware of the chill of creeping night before; she'd been thinking about getting the blanket out of her bag. But by the time she was straddling Geralt's lap it seemed like an easy thing to forget. She felt nothing but warmth, aware of every place their bodies touched.

Saints, it wasn't fair how much he excited her.

Nina pushed her knees into the grass so she could press closer against Geralt.

"I don't want you to stop," she said, her own voice low and wanting. She trusted the look in his eyes, trusted that he would never hurt her. A smile curved her lips. "Just don't tear this dress. I like it."

Edited 2017-09-22 00:57 (UTC)

"I like you in that dress."

He had permission. Geralt lifted her up, enough to pull the dress up over her waist, so that she was sitting on only her knickers against him.

"But I think I like you more out of it. Arms up."

He dropped his head, licking a long, hot stripe across her pale, soft stomach, right above the line of the bottom of her belly, right above the waist of her knickers.

Nina complied, helping him get all the fabric gathered around her waist before the dress came off over her head. There was a momentary shiver when all her skin was exposed to the air, a rush of goosebumps that rose and faded.

Her underthings were wine red, dark against her pale skin. Nina leaned back, everything in her jumping at the intimate touch of Geralt's tongue. Saints, it was perfect.

She pushed her fingers into his hair, desperate for something to hold onto.

He felt her skin prickle under his fingers, and then settle again, beneath his touch. With her dress lifted over her head, Geralt gave a grunt and lifted both of them from where he sat to drop them onto his makeshift camp bed, a pile of quilts and furs on the top of a pile of dried, shredded grass.

Geralt mouthed at Nina's hip, tracing the soft way the bone of it stuck out just enough when she was on her back. His teeth tugged at the lace band of her dark underwear.

"You're so soft."