worstsin | (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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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."

Edited Date: 2017-09-22 06:14 am (UTC)

From:

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.

From:

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."

From:

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."

From:

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."

From:

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."

From:

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.

From:

every_blossom_blooming

"Because," she said with a small, frustrated gesture. "It allows them to feel righteous. Fjerdens are big on that. Honor and righteousness. They give a trial, the illusion of fairness. But the Grisha are being tried for-- for being born."

Nina tried to reign in the surge of anger she felt. "They're hypocrites," she muttered. "I'm not saying that Ravka is perfect, or that what we do is entirely altruistic. But at least we aren't trying to exterminate our own people."

From:

worstsin

Geralt said nothing, though he made a soft noise of comfort, somewhere in the back of his throat. It would not be the first or last time, that he would sit quietly, letting a woman rant to him about the unfairness of the world. And it was not that he didn't agree with Nina utterly, only that, if he said anything at all, what would it possibly even add? He was too cynical for politics.

He kissed her, parting her thick, dark hair to one side of her shoulders while she lay and pressing his mouth against the base of her neck.

From:

every_blossom_blooming

Nina sighed, because she knew ranting about it could only ever do so much. She just felt so much. She tucked against Geralt as his lips touched her neck.

Slowly, she relaxed in his arms.

"Don't let a bear eat me while I sleep," she murmured, lips moving against his chest as she spoke.

From:

worstsin

"I'd eat it first. Forgot to have anything for dinner earlier. A little too late now."

He moved away just enough to look at Nina, humor written in the gentleness of his eyes. He tilted his head to the side.

"Couldn't bring myself to move an inch."

Edited Date: 2017-09-23 03:11 am (UTC)

From:

every_blossom_blooming

She peered up at him with a smile, soft and warm in the faint light from the fire. "Well, if you decide hunger outweighs the loveliness of cuddling me, there are apples in my bag."

Nina leaned up to kiss him. "Goodnight, Geralt."

It was easier to fall asleep than she expected. Maybe it had something to do with the company; perhaps Geralt wasn't feeling quite himself, but Nina still felt safe with him.

She slept soundly for some time, but as the night drew on darkness crept into her dreams. Flickers of memories she wanted to forget. Despite trying to harden herself to the realities of war, the charred bodies in Fjerda still haunted her - especially the one that had still been alive. She couldn't escape the sounds he made and the unrelenting terror of knowing that would be her fate if she was captured in the Ice Court.

Her heart beat faster, her breath quickened as she tried to escape a terrifying vision of the man she'd loved. His hands around her neck, willing the life out of her; she could feel the lick of flames, could smell the smoke, and could see his eyes like glaciers, uncaring and unmoved by her screaming.

"Please, no-- please." She was screaming.

"NO!"

Nina shot up, throat raw from the sound that had torn out of her. Her entire body shook and she caught sight of the embers of the camp fire - that alone sent her reeling backward, out from beneath the blankets made warm by their bodies.

From:

worstsin

"Nina."

Strong, white hands reached out for her, grabbing onto Nina's upper arms to keep her from wheeling away from the dying fire, the camp, in the early morning. He was still careful of his hands, the dangerous curve of his nails. They hadn't gotten worse over the night, which he was grateful for, but only just, and they hadn't gotten any better.

"Hey. It was a nightmare. You had a nightmare. You're here, with me."

It was, he knew, perhaps not much of a comfort. The thin pre-dawn sun filtered in just enough to illuminate the woods, but it bleached any remaining color from Geralt's skin, and it lit his eyes from behind with a strange glow.

From:

every_blossom_blooming

For a terrifying moment, she didn't see him. She saw Jarl Brum, or Matthias, or the face of any of the Druskelle: pale and hard and the last thing too many Grisha saw.

He'd grabbed her by her arms but he didn't have her hands; one clenched fast into a fist and Geralt's lungs spasmed, then failed to inflate - she wasn't letting him breathe. But her hands were shaking, badly, and she couldn't concentrate for the terror. A breath, and another. The sound of his choking broke the hold of the dream.

"Oh," she gasped out. Her eyes finally came back into focus and Nina immediately relaxed her hands, releasing her invisible hold. Tears escaped down her cheeks.

"Oh, saints. I was burning," she whispered, her voice trembling as badly as the rest of her. "I could feel it. I could hear the screaming." Nina pushed her fingers into her hair and curled around herself.

Edited Date: 2017-09-23 03:51 am (UTC)

From:

worstsin

Geralt wiped at the wetness on his lips, spittle from the round of violent coughing he'd suffered when he'd felt his lungs seize and collapse. It hadn't lasted long, but it was unpleasant.

"Not your fault. It's the woods, whatever is happening out here. It's like it perverts everything around it."

He reached out for her again, but this time, only grabbed her bare knee and gave it a tight squeeze. His shoulders still shook, there was still a tickle in his chest, but he swallowed the last round of coughing.

From:

every_blossom_blooming

She felt horrible for hurting him but she couldn't even offer to soothe it, too caught up in the memory.

"They burned them," she whispered, trying to calm her body down. Nina tried to concentrate, lowering her own pulse. It wasn't going as easily as she'd hoped. "They burned them alive. And he watched them tie me to a pyre and light it."

Nina sniffled and pushed her hair back from her face. Her eyebrows were drawn together are she looked at Geralt. "I'm sorry... I-- It wasn't you. I didn't see you. Are you alright?"

From:

worstsin

Geralt gave a nod. It was curt, full of nothing but concern, knit brows.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that the world is cruel and you had to bear witness to something like that. I'm sorry it's scarred into your mind. That won't happen here, I'm promising you that. As long as I'm here, there will never be any pyres lit. I won't let it happen."

There were lines to be drawn. Things that couldn't be overlooked. He was angry for Nina's sake, and he was simply angry that such things seemed always to happen wherever humans were.