(no subject)

[worstsin]

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.

Comments

[worstsin]

"You smell gorgeous this way." He mumbled against her mouth, face flushed pink from arousal, eyes swamped with black. He kissed her back, messy, feeling her lips against his, against his beard. Geralt let out a very long, low growl.

He shifted to straddle one of Nina's bare thighs, pressing down against her, rough and hungry for contact, his cock hard and trapped between his legs. It wasn't a terrible sensation, arousing in its own right, all sweet torture and ache.

Geralt gripped one of the quilts beneath them with his hand, hard enough that his pale knuckles turned a pure white even under firelight. His nails, what had become claws, ripped into the layered fabric. He was alright with the sacrifice of a blanket or two. He'd managed to be gentle with Nina.

[every_blossom_blooming]

"Not so bad yourself." Her voice came out breathless and her hands slid down Geralt's back until she could grab his hips. She pressed her thigh up against him. "Are you going to take these off?"

She lifted her eyebrows at him and her hands released his hips to start gathering his shirt, drawing it higher across his back; she let the fabric tease his skin as much as her fingers did until she pulled it over his head. She met him with another kiss and she could hear the fabric tear as he dug into it.

[worstsin]

"Not sure." The words were in perfect honesty. Geralt made an exquisite grimace as Nina pressed up against his cock, throbbing where it was caught between his legs. He bared his teeth, gave a pant.

"I like that. I liked it- it was-- " He breathed again, more slowly.

"I should really just ... calm myself down. Maybe throw myself in a river."

It wasn't that he didn't want her, because he did. It wasn't that Geralt had any particular hangups, because he did not. But something was still wrong, something was still off in him. He didn't fully trust himself.

But he lay down against Nina. Gathered the blankets around her. Lifting a hand, he brought the fire to stronger life, the flames lifting more, warmer.

[every_blossom_blooming]

Saints, she could feel him against her.

"Is that really necessary?" She knew something had him spooked, but she trusted him and more than that, she trusted herself.

As his weight settled against her, Nina tried to calm down a little. "Don't think you had to worry about me getting cold," she said with a small smile as he gathered the blankets around her. As it was, his body heat was doing plenty for her.

[worstsin]

"What, the fire? Or the river?"

He didn't smile, but in the firelight, his eyes glittered. He settled in beside Nina, now shirtless, and he pressed their chests against one another, curling her against him, beneath his chin.

"You still planning on staying? Not sure what you might wake up to in the morning. Might be a side of me you're not gonna like."

[every_blossom_blooming]

"The river," she clarified, smiling back at him. Even if they were subtle, she found his expressions easy to read now. She twisted toward him, snuggling against his chest.

"Yes, I'm still planning on staying. I'm a very stubborn person, Geralt. Surely you've noticed." Her voice was light and she pressed a tender kiss to his chest. "Besides, you might see a side of me you don't like. I am not a morning person," she sniffed.

"Are you sure you don't want...?"

She trailed off but as she did her hand slid down his stomach, until her fingers brushed over his covered cock.

[worstsin]

"And I'm a very thick witcher, but I've noticed."

He was about to tell her to relax, to go to sleep, when her hand found the heat and throb between his legs. He'd been trying to will it to settle, trying to wait out the hormones in his own blood, but the gentle ouch, knowing that it was a woman's hand, renewed it all.

"Mm," was all he managed to say. He pressed his hips against her hand, his mouth a thin line as he sighed.

[every_blossom_blooming]

She tipped her head up to kiss his neck, to let her lips drift along his jaw. "That isn't a yes or a no, Geralt," she murmured against his skin.

It seemed like a thin line to walk: he had stopped, and perhaps she should just respect that but-- but he'd wanted, hadn't he? Nina wanted to offer, just once more.

[worstsin]

"Yes."

It was soft, but certain. Nina wanted certainty from him, he understood perfectly. He was willing to give it. He reached down, fingers tugging, a little clumsily, at the laces of his trousers. He hadn't grown used to the change to his hands yet. Fortunately. Nina had stopped things where they were.

At least for now.

[every_blossom_blooming]

Her sigh sounded like relief and Nina leaned up to kiss Geralt full on the mouth. She helped, or maybe just got in the way, as the pair of them tried to work his laces free. She laughed, because she had to, and after a moment she shoved Geralt's shoulder and used her body to push him onto his back.

The blanket fell away from her as she straddled him and she made quick work of his laces from there. "Men and all your complicated gear," she teased as she leaned down over him, smiling as she nudged into another kiss.

[worstsin]

"Ow. He whined, but he hadn't been hurt. Instead, he looked up at Nina above him with expectant amusement, eyes bright again, yellow, but warm in the light of the fire.

"And you haven't seen the first of it. I'm under-dressed tonight."

He had figured nothing would bother him. That was true enough -- Nina was here, but she was the opposite of a bother.

He kissed her back. His hips, narrow beneath her, gave a jump when her knuckles brushed against his cock, beneath the thin fabric of his underwear.

[every_blossom_blooming]

"Just my luck." Nina sat up more so she could work his shorts lower. And maybe she bit her lip at the sight of his cock, a coy little smile flickering across her face.

Her eyes, deep green in the dim light from the fire, slowly traced back up to Geralt's face as her fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly.

[worstsin]

Geralt's head fell back. He let out a quiet sigh of deepest relief. Nina's hands were warm and soft on his prick, her touch was kind but eager. The smile on her face reminded him of no one, and that, too, made him enjoy the touch all the more.

"Nina, please."

His hands serched for purchase, and found it, one in the blankets, one on the nearby log he'd sat on.

Geralt's nails dug in deeply, fingers pressing into the old wood with a strange strength reserved usually for landing sword-blows against fleders and forktails.

[every_blossom_blooming]

"Please what?"

She lifted her eyebrows, coy to the last. She tried little things, learning what he might like best, paying close attention to even the subtlest changes in his pulse, in the flicker of his pupils.

Nina could hear the faint groan of the log when Geralt dug his fingers against it; she'd take it as a compliment, and she wondered, faintly, what it would feel like to have him gripping her thighs.

[worstsin]

Geralt gave a groan of frustration when she teased him. No doubt, he deserved it, for doing the same to her earlier.

Her hand moved over his cock, her wrist changing the stroke here and there, reacting to whatever it is that Nina could feel from him, his heart-beat, his breathing.

"Little more," he whispered. His thighs began to shake. It was better, it always was, when it was someone else's hand.

[every_blossom_blooming]

She gave him what he asked for; Nina paused only to lick her palm, making a brief show of it before she returned it to him. It was exciting to feel him beneath her, to feel the shiver course through him as he neared his edge.

It was easy to lean forward, bracing her free hand against Geralt's chest so she could kiss him again, lingering, chasing the taste of him as long as either of them could stand it.

[worstsin]

When he knew he was there, he braided his fingers through Nina's hair, pressed her head forward to meet his mouth again, so that when he came he groaned, deep, into her mouth.

He thumped his free hand against the log, his spend landing on her hand, on the ground. It was off, like the rest of him, just slightly, but it always had been. A cleaner smell, sweeter.

[every_blossom_blooming]

A soft hum answered his deep moan - her approval, her pleasure, whatever he wanted to take it for. Nina's hand slowed but did not stop until she was certain Geralt was spent.

She broke the kiss just to breathe and nuzzled her nose lightly against his. For a moment she stayed where she was, enjoying the way he felt beneath her. But eventually she slid off to the side, back into the nest of blankets and furs.

And, a little curious, she licked a just a little taste of him off her fingers. Different, but not unpleasant. She could certainly live with that.

[worstsin]

Though he was already lightly flush from orgasm, and though he was certainly no spring chicken, the way that Nina tasted him made his ears grow pinker. He expected things like that, from women in bawdy houses, from the older girls at the Passiflora in their forties he favored. They were paid to pretend to have no disgust over a witcher.

Nina was simply a friend.

He let out a gusty breath, before digging in his pack for a white towel.

"Sterility," he murmured across to her. Just so that they were on the same page, one day, if it came up. "Mutations give us an enhanced libido. But they also cause sterility. Mutation in the genetics, mutation in the gametes."

[every_blossom_blooming]

Making Geralt blush felt like a spectacular victory. Sometimes it was easy, but seeing him do it now made Nina grin a bit wickedly, just for a moment.

Her expression softened when he mentioned his sterility. "But you have a daughter, despite that?" She plucked the towel from Geralt when he was through it with, just to finish cleaning her hand off.

Nina tugged the blanket around her again as she tucked close against Geralt's side.

[worstsin]

Geralt finished shimmying out of his pants and kicked them the rest of the way off, because why bother re-lacing? After he was freed of them, he pulled himself in closer to Nina, before grabbing the largest of the blankets which sat on top and throwing it over them.

He had no pillows at his camp, but he did ball up some of rest to help give them a cushion for their heads. Nina seemed content to sleep with him that night.

He was actually pleased. There was something calming about the smell of a human in the bed beside him, the sound of a heart beating, of slow comfortable breaths.

Geralt cleared his throat.

"She was adoptive. It's ... complicated. She was my Surprise Child. There's a custom, where I come from. When you save a person's life, they owe you a debt. You can forgive it, of course, or you can invoke the Law of Surprise. And in doing so, ask for the thing that the person has, but doesn't yet know. That's ... how I ended up with Ciri. How I ended up a witcher."

[every_blossom_blooming]

Geralt was trying to make a pillow but Nina solved her problem by tucking her head beneath his chin, head against his shoulder. He was warm and his heartbeat was back to something that sounded familiar to her. Whatever was driving his mutations haywire, it seemed that she had quelled it, at least for now.

She hoped so, for his sake. She only worried that she might not be able to do it again. Hopefully they wouldn't have to find out.

She wasn't sure how she felt about this Law of Surprise, but she tried not to judge it. She wasn't from his world; maybe it served some purpose.

"There were people in the Second Army that specialized in finding other Grisha. I was identified young and brought to the Little Palace to train. I was out with Zoya looking for Grisha, hoping to convince them to come to Ravka, when I was captured by Druskelle... Grisha hunters."

[worstsin]

"We mostly took in bastards, orphans. Only boys. Females can't survive the mutations. Even the boys only have a slim chnce."

He rested his chin in her hair. Searching beneath the blankets with one hand, he found the rise of her hip and stroked it, gently, with one hand. He used the palm of his hand, not the fingers, still unsure of the points. Pity Regis wasn't around to offer pointers -- and kind, philosophical platitudes.

"Druskelle, huh? Like Witch-hunters? Had some run-ins with them over the last couple years ... they're not big fans, obviously."

[every_blossom_blooming]

"Yes. They call us unnatural. If the Druskelle find a Grisha and don't kill them outright, they haul them back to Djerholm for a trial. I have never heard of a Grisha being found innocent. Then they are executed."

Nina nestled closer, appreciating his hand on her hip. She could feel the little bruises his mouth left behind.

"That was to be my fate, if Matthias had his way when we first met."

[worstsin]

"Then why even bother holding a trial? It's a fool's court."

Geralt frowns silently to himself in the dark. Djer sounds familiar, he thinks that Matthias does as well. He tracks such details, a consequence of years of his trade, but he can't place them.