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The Iron Bull had given Geralt a decent lead, a possible way to find reasonable storage for a horse, over the winter, when he couldn't simply let her rest safely at camp. Every day that passed made Geralt more eager to gave an animal again, both for the convenience, and for the fact that every witcher -- whether he admitted it or not -- had spent an evening explaining the details of the coming hunt to his horse beneath a starry sky.

The directions sent him reliably in the right direction, and once Geralt was close enough, he caught first the scent of wood fire and cooked food, and then, soon after, a mixture of individuals, Cremisius Aclassi among them. It was easy to zero in on the property after that.

The evening light was gold, and the trees out in the country were already just starting to change their colors, losing enough of their leaves that the ground crackled with them, and the air was crisp with the smell. One, blowing in the breeze, fluttered into Geralt's face, and he batted it away.

Cresting over a low hill, he saw it, not very far at all in the distance. A cozy-looking white farmhouse, and a barn situated nearby.

He heard the sound of dogs barking. His hackles rose, unbidden, but he'd been warned to approach the house openly, visibly.

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The barking dogs sounded fierce, but to the trained ear, or at least to one that knew the beasts, the bark was not yet aggressive: it was warning. An alert bark for their people.

As Geralt came closer, he would see two of them on the other side of a fence and when they saw him, they stopped their alert sounds. The pair of them looked at him, both solid animals, build for speed and for strength. One grey-blue, one red. The red one wagged its tail in a hopeful sort of way, like it might be inclined to make friends provided the approaching stranger didn't mean harm; the other watched Geralt stoically, suspiciously.

Gannicus made his way down through the barn - he'd been working on patching a few spots on the roof. The barn itself had been in good shape but in need of some care and maintenance.

When he came out, he saw the dogs first, then followed their gaze to the approaching stranger. Gannicus pulled his shirt back on as he crossed the field; the pair of dogs fell in at his side.

"Hail fellow," Geralt called out at the man approaching. He'd been told he would know the man by looking at him, and that much was true. He had long hair, and a large body. The sort Geralt might expect from a Skelligan ring fighter.

"And well met."

The red dog ran up to his feet before sitting down and looking at him, ears back, expectant. Geralt wasn't sure yet if he should touch it. He hadn't been given permission, except by the dog's needy brown eyes.

He stared at it with his own reserved yellow pair.

Gannicus shook his head, watching Aster dart ahead to sit at the stranger's feet. Some guard dog. Bran, for his part, stayed by his side, shoulder to his thigh.

He pulled off his gloves and tucked them into the back pocket of his denims as he climbed over the fence, landing on the other side to close the distance between them.

"Aster," he admonished. The red dog looked back, looked sheepish, but did not give up his post, practically on top of the man's feet. Gannicus rolled his eyes.

"Well met," he answered, taking stock of the man now that they were close. He bore resemblance to one Krem had described after coming in from a job; he had brought home some foul-smelling parts for Hild to experiment with. "Can I help you?"

Bran sat at Gannicus's side, apparently not at all influenced by Aster's willingness to greet strangers.

"I'm hopeful," Geralt answered. When the dog didn't go back to his master, Geralt knelt in front of it and gave it a scratch on the chest, between its front legs.

He looked up at the man, Gannicus, with his head tilted.

"My name is Geralt, of Rivia. I was told by a friend of Cremisius Aclassi that you might have room here for a mare over the winter? Provided that I've got something to trade for it."

Aster melted against Geralt, head tipped up to reveal adoring eyes while the man rubbed his chest. Gannicus couldn't help but laugh.

"Useless as a guard dog, that one," he said fondly. "I'm Gannicus." As a matter of etiquette, he offered the man his hand.

"I would not oppose addition of a mare, but I would need to confer with Krem and Hild before making full offer."

He couldn't imagine that either of them would be particularly opposed: they had the room, the barn was more or less winter-worthy, and if Geralt had something to offer in trade, he was sure Hild in particular would find deal to strike.

"He's a sweet creature."

Aster rolled onto his back, shoving his pale chest up at the witcher, who sighed, and obliged the dog.

Geralt wished, for a moment, he'd worn gloves, but took the man's hand anyway, hoping he wouldn't notice the sensation Geralt's touch would tend to give.

"I'm willing to put in man-hours. I'm not a carpenter, or a farmer, but I lived in an isolated place, and we handled those things by ourselves perforce at Kaer Morhen."

At Vesemir's nagging, perhaps. The trouble was, when he, Eskel and Lambert were together, drinking tended to follow, and thus, laziness.

"He and Bran are recent additions. Bran rescued from a fighting ring, Aster from abandonment."

Their pasts showed in the dogs' attitudes: Bran was still wary of most people. He was slowly bonding with Gannicus, and with Hild and Krem, but his trust had not come as quickly or as easily as Aster's.

"I would be glad for help. Krem and Hild both run their own businesses. My hours with the butcher mean early mornings but I am free to work here the rest of the day. We have mind toward further improvement."

If they were to have sheep and horses, Gannicus wouldn't mind having more out-buildings. He wouldn't mind laying the start for proper gardens before winter hardened the ground. Perhaps someday build a greenhouse for Hild.

Geralt stood, and dusted himself off. Aster followed his hands up, nipping at them, playful and friendly. The dogs attitudes were, in fact, explained by their origins.

"When the weather permits, at least, I've been spending time in the woods. If the three of you can find a reasonable decision, it's not a problem to move camp a few miles closer, nearer your property, to make things more convenient."

He paused, considering and wondering, before continuing.

"It has a subsidiary effect of keeping a variety of monsters -- and stray cats -- away. They tend to dislike the smell and presence of a witcher."

Gannicus wasn't sure what to make of the title witcher, but he did know the man hunted monsters - things he'd only heard of in stories before coming here, and before meeting Krem.

Now he knew they were real.

"I have loving partners convinced to keep sheep, I do not imagine adding horses would be hard negotiation."

As Geralt stood, Gannicus moved toward the house and made inviting gesture to encourage the man to follow. Aster broke off seeking attention in favor of darting ahead, racing full speed toward the house. "Join me, one or both should be home before long."

Geralt trailed after Gannicus, watching the red dog race across the field grass and over the fence on the way back to the homestead. He had the urge, nipping at his feet, to chase after the dog, full-tilt. It would have felt wonderful, just to do so, but he kept his politeness about him, and was also concerned that the other dog, Bran, might take exception to the act and set chase.

The breeze brushed by again, carrying with it the scent of coming autumn, and Geralt gave a long sigh.

"How long have you lived out here?" The property wasn't bad at all, but Gannicus was correct that it needed work.

"The beginning of August. Nearly two months."

The farmhouse itself was in good condition; even the barn had been strong and standing, it had only needed a little bit of shoring up for the winter. The last people to own the property hadn't really made use of it.

Aster waited on the porch, tail thumping against the floorboards as they approached. Gannicus rolled his eyes at the dog and pulled the door open to usher Geralt in. Bran followed last.

Though it had only been two months, the house was warm and lived-in already, unpacked and settled. With four of them working - the three adults and Aggie - it had been short effort.

Gannicus headed into the kitchen, where the dogs were already trying to drink out of their big water bowl at the same time. He found one of Hild's home brews and poured a cup for himself and a cup for Geralt.

The home was an orchestra of smells, as homes were wont to be. It was both riling up Geralt's natural curiosity, and relaxing. It smelled of cooked food and herbs, of the dogs and of human bodies. There was something else strange that he could barely pick up that gave him a shiver.

And, somewhere, a cat.

Geralt found a seat and lifted the cup to his nose. He gave it a very gentle sniff, like a cat might.

"So, it's the three of you?" Geralt asked, in a tone that implied the in a relationship, together.

It was a beer Hild had brewed earlier in the year - lighter, for the summer. He looked forward to the dark brew she might do over the winter.

Gannicus bobbed his head in answer while he swallowed what he had in his mouth.

"The three of us," he answered easily. He knew to some it was strange, but he would not have it another way. "Hild and Krem have been together longer, but they have opened hearts and hearth to me. Then we all had mind toward settling somewhere... together."

It was a bit more complicated than that, he supposed: they all had other lovers at one point or another, but in the end it was the three of them that continually wove in and out of each other's lives. Whoever else came and went, the three of them remained.

Geralt gave it a thought, while nursing the beer. It wasn't bad, although Geralt preferred them heavier. It reminded him of something from further south than he usually spent time.

It had more character than most of what he'd found in Darrow, at least.

The witcher understood, of course, that not every relationship was forever, and singular, until it ended. He'd done his fair share of sleeping around, and Dandelion was renowned for philandery. But even with other women, between arguments with Yennefer, Geralt had always thought only of her, deeply, breathlessly, forever.

But what of that had been the Wish?

"Congratulations. Most of us can't get one partner to agree on something."

Edited 2017-09-30 05:01 (UTC)

Gannicus shrugged. He wasn't sure it was something that needed or deserved adulation.

"We care for each other, love each other. We want only happiness for each other, whatever that means or looks like."

Perhaps each of them had experiences that made that approach easier. Gannicus could not ever recall loving one person to the exclusion of all others - it seemed like a waste of feeling. He had cared deeply for Oenomaus and Melitta - even if Oenromaus would never see him as another more than a brother. He bore the same love, or some version of it, for Saxa.

"I have never been prone toward jealousy. I would no sooner begrudge Krem Hild's love than I would ask him to love me and no other. What right do I have to lay sole claim to any heart?"

Geralt wondered at that last comment. It had struck, maybe, too close to home, had ate at some of the resentment living far inside him, below his love and want for Yenn, below his desire for a family, a calm and simple future.

He drank, maybe too quickly.

"I know a bit about Cremisius. What do you do, exactly?"

Geralt nodded toward one of Gannicus' scars. Compared to his own, they were relatively mild, but they were there, and made him wonder. He didn't hold the gaze for long. His eyes tended to discomfit.

"Here? I work for a butcher," he answered after taking a drink from his cup. But he knew what Geralt was getting at, had seen the nod toward one of the scars showing on his arm.

"Before arriving in Darrow I was fighting a futile war, in memory of lost brother." Gannicus leaned against the counter and looked down at his cup, regarding it. The dogs settled: Bran against Gannicus's leg, and Aster on Geralt's feet.

"Before that, a slave fighting in the arena, to entertain the good people of Rome." He was sober enough that there was some measure of bitterness in his voice. "Captured after a battle, when the Romans were pressing into and conquering my people's territory."

The move out to the country meant a great many things to Krem, and one of the major ones was that he was running to and from work at the moment. He had no car, and Aggie had only a learners permit and they had no vehicle between them. He had no desire to drive. Come winter, that would make for an interesting arrangement, but they would figure it out then, he supposed. It wouldn't be the first time he trudged through the snow.

He heard voices when he came up on the porch, Gannicus's considerably more familiar one and the more unfamiliar timber that Krem placed, a moment or two after hearing it, as Geralt's. He let himself into the house.

Now, after the run, he felt a little silly. He'd dressed down into his athletic wear after work, and he was sweaty from the exertion. He made noise on his way into the kitchen, so that Gannicus was not startled when he placed a hand on his shoulder and used him as a post while he stretched his legs.

"Afternoon," he greeted. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

It was good that Cremisius showed up when he did, because Geralt was not certain what to say to Gannicus' response. The Skelligers took slaves, and the Nilfgaardians. But Geralt had never known one, personally. His line of work, which required he be paid a fair bounty for his contract, didn't often take him into meetings with men who belonged to other men.

But the entire idea was, of course, anathema to Geralt. And everything he believed in.

And that was why he was not certain his opines would be wanted, or suited to casual conversation.

He only gave Gannicus a look of grave sympathy before moving his eyes to Cremisius, where he stood, stretching.

"Looking to buy a horse. Needed to know if I could find somewhere to hold her over winter before I went further. The Iron Bull mentioned that I might find a stable here, provided I was willing to trade some time for it."

The strange tension of the moment - perhaps only existing in Gannicus's mind - was broken by Krem's arrival. He didn't like thinking of the life he had led, the choices he made. There had been so few of them that felt like choice at the time. He wondered, constantly, if he could have - should have - done something different.

Krem's touch grounded him and he slid his hand over his lover's back, providing quiet support while he stretched himself.

At least the look Geralt offered was one of sympathy rather than judgment.

"We have the room," he said to Krem. "The barn ready for winter and nothing to live in it. Unless you and Hild are eager to have sheep through the season." He kissed Krem's hair, not put off by the dampness of his hair. "Extra hands would make faster work of new out buildings. Perhaps a greenhouse for Hild."

"Certainly cheaper to keep one with us than to board with Cordova," Krem said with gentle sympathy. Krem liked, and respected, Eowyn and her work with the horses north of the city with the stables, but he understand the prices to be a bit much for most anyone that wasn't planning on working the stables, or wasn't independently wealthy. "And we could always use an extra set of hands."

Krem switched feet.

"I can't imagine Hild'd make a fuss, especially if it means she gets a greenhouse out of the deal." He smiled a bit, and snatched Gannicus's beer, taking a sip. "So long as we're not expected to provide the hay and grain as well."

Edited 2017-10-05 20:59 (UTC)

"I can weld," Geralt took up at the mention of a green-house. He thought of the beautiful conservatories, at the Imperial court, and in Beauclair. It was a good way to offer his help, and he'd caught on it before thinking it through.

"Without equipment."

He glanced up at the ceiling, feeling strangely sheepish about it. Geralt, old as he was, was still uncomfortable yet, at some of his more obvious oddness. It was in his character

"I make more than enough to provide feed all winter. It's the quarters alone that concerned me. It's not right to have a horse out in winter, especially without a warm stable to urge her into in the evening."

That the horse would be a mare was a foregone conclusion to Geralt. To the witcher, every horse was a Roach, and every Roach was a mare.

Gannicus had, at least, grown accustomed to magic users since his arrival in Darrow. It didn't hurt that Dorian had been his tutor for a long time, and Dorian had no issue with using magic of all kinds while Gannicus was dutifully studying in his presence.

Still, welding without equipment was a skill. A crooked smile appeared on his face.

"I would like to see that," he confessed. He adjusted his hold on Krem as he adjusted his stretching, content to keep his lover close even if he was sweating.

"The barn is finished and winter-ready. It would be no trouble to put a door to one of the stalls to make it suitable for a horse. I don't think Hild will take convincing."

Geralt had assured he could provide feed, and with that there was only the matter of space, which they had, and care, which Gannicus was content to give on the days Geralt could not, for some reason, make it out. It seemed a beneficial arrangement for all involved.

Krem knew about Gerald's magical ability, having seen a bit of it in action when they'd worked on the beach. Even beyond, he knew a number of apostates, hedge witches, and mages, as was the nature of Tevinter and being a Charger. So he nodded in understanding.

Gannicus's quiet, curious enthusiasm made him smile. He pressed a kiss over his ear and then turned the smile on Geralt comfortably.

"We should be ready for her within a few days, I imagine. Long enough to put in a stall door and make sure Hild knows she'll be there. Do you want us to keep the dogs from nosing around too much?"

"No, actually," Geralt said, conveying what emphasis his voice couldn't with his hands. He often supplemented with gesticulation, when the lack of enthusiasm in his voice wouldn't do.

"Let the dogs hang around her as much as possible, and anyone else, too. She'll be a witcher's horse, she'll need to be even-tempered and hardy. Well-socialized, used to chaos, loud noises, animals, magic and bombs. I don't want her growing up skittish or too precious. She ought to be a good, sweet, working animal."

And any troubles beyond the usual he might have, he could always fix with a quick spell on the horse, to keep her from bucking or bolting.

"I know that there are other transportation options here in the city, motorcycles for example, but I don't think they'd ever be able to fill all of the necessary roles a horse would. Or cover the terrain I need to cover."

"You should have Bull out here," Gannicus said, looking toward Krem. If a horse could handle the sight of him, surely there wasn't much that would throw it off. "Aster will test her patience."

The red dog was a good animal, but maybe more curious than he should be. Bran made up for it with abundant caution.

"There is no replacing a good horse," Gannicus admitted. He hadn't done much riding since he'd been taken from his people, not until he'd joined Spartacus's rag-tag army. Not until they'd raided enough to have horses.

"I'm sure he'll be over plenty, but I'll make sure he harasses the horse from time to time," Krem said with a soft laugh and a shake of his head. The dogs would be easy enough, since they were regularly out with them when they did chores. Other than that, Aggie was the oddest thing about the place that went wandering, and it would be up to her if she wanted to stare the horse down of course.

He shook his head a little bit. Not because he disagreed. The Tevinter army kept horses, and a few other mounts. Krem rather liked horses, as well. As long as he didn't have to be on them. That was where he and horses began to have a misunderstanding in how things worked, and so he just tended to avoid it, even though he and Eowyn had been working on that a bit.

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