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gannicus

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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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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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