Now... I've never written as canon characters before so this will be my first (horrid) attempt. Feedback on how I'm doing would be wonderful as this is a bit embarrassing for myself. As always all rights to Andrzej Sapkowski for general lore and characters.
Note that this is taking place a few months after the end of the third game as well as Blood and Wine. Expect spoilers as well as a few from the books as the certain subject addressed stemmed from one of the first short stories.
The days were creeping by dreadfully slow, although what would one expect when there was little to be done. It had been a few months after the defeat of Dettlaff and return of the Duchess' long lost sister, and with a certain enchantress and witcher having decided to settle down at their new estate within the Duchy of Toussaint for the first time in many years, it was safe to say they finally had found some time for themselves. The first few days and even weeks were splendid. No impending doom, life threatening wounds, or political messes to attend to. Yet, as they both were used to a life constantly filled with action, it wasn't a surprise that boredom was soon to take an unfortunately strong grip upon them both. First it was Geralt who decided to saddle Roach, more than eager to stretch his limbs while slicing a few drowners. Then it was Yennefer, who had finally grown tired of sitting idle and begun a bit of scattered research upon anything and everything once more as to keep herself occupied. Until something she had sought quite eagerly in the past began to resurface.
Not long before the incident, the Witcher had been out dealing with a contract of moderate difficulty. A noonwraith terrorizing those in a vineyard not far from their own Corvo Bianco. The fight was over somewhat quickly although not without Geralt sustaining a few injuries with the most noticeable being a near blindness in one eye due to the way the Specter had attacked him and being too busy with its many doppelgangers to have time to deflect. Upon returning home, Yen was more than eager to prompt him with the same lecture that just about followed every occasion he returned with more than a scratch upon him…
"Yen…" Geralt grumbled whilst swinging his legs over his mare and landing on the soft earth, handing the reigns of his horse to the servant that had come to retrieve it. "I'm fine." Keeping an unconvinced glare within her violet eyes, Yennefer was quick to near him before ushering the man towards the front door, having already noted how prominent his veins stood out against his pasty complexion. "By the gods, how much swallow did you drink?" Her tone was sharp, almost as if scolding a child. The only answer she received was a soft mixture of a grunt and groan, a telltale sign that she wouldn't like the answer. Shutting the door behind them once they entered the main building, she guided him to their bedroom and practically shoved him down onto the mattress, Geralt's working eye flicking from her to the stuffed unicorn in the corner. "After." The sorceress replied curtly before spinning on her black bootheel and examining the many parchments, scrolls, bottles, vials and other assorted odds and ends that littered its surface. "What happened?" Her lover sighed deeply while reclining back. "Noonwrath. It's apparitions distracted me." A small smile graced her lips as she then mused while rooting through a few papers "You're losing your touch." Not finding what she was looking for, mainly the specific incantation to repair his sclera, lense, and possibly other damaged bits and pieces that lay within his feline eye, the woman let loose an annoyed huff. She either was going to have to find the bloody spell or try and recall it from memory. "Give me a moment…" she muttered, exiting the room and kneeling to search the chests that have yet to be emptied and stored away.
After a minute or two, conversing with the Witcher through the doorway, she finally found what looked to be a familiar journal of some sort. Thinking this to be it, Yen grasped its aging leather-bound surface, removing it from the box it was stored within. "I believe I've finally-" She stated nonchalantly while standing and taking a few steps towards his bedside, but as her eyes skimmed the ink-stained and yellowing parchment, her voice caught within her throat and soon dying off. It was for but a moment, but more than noticeable to someone as attentive as the the white wolf himself. "What is it? Did you find the spell you were looking for?" Quickly closing the book and setting it upon the desk, giving her head a brief shake while she had been facing away she quickly found her voice once more. "Yes…" the magician replied hesitantly before righting herself and allowing her normal demeanor to return as she sat on the side of the bed. Noticing that something was off, Geralt was soon to frown. "Yen, what's wrong?" But, of course, it was quickly denied. "Nothing." She snapped. "I'm fine. Let's get this over with before the damage becomes permanent."
Yennefer had been able to fix his eye but not without being noticeably distant. Geralt was aware of this, as she was getting momentarily tongue-tied with the words she was muttering which was more than uncommon. But he remained silent for not only would she deny it once more, yet he was also the one being affected by the spell which he undoubtedly new she could alter if she wished.
Upon finishing, the sorceress quickly left the room after grabbing the book, leaving him with a faint command. "Get some rest." The door softly shutting behind her. What she had stumbled upon was something that had escaped her mind for quite some time as she had been more focused upon Ciri, Geralt, and more or less the fate of the world in both the literal and political sense. Now she had time to spare. Too much, in fact, it was almost sickening. Moving to the large dining table in the center of the room, the woman slowly took a seat, flipping through the many pages she had poured hours over many years ago. The formulae, calculations, scratched out notes with indistinguishable words… A deep frown began to tug upon her lips as her mood was increasingly tainted while her eyes read over the last few entries, they seeming rather depressed, hopeless even as the golden dragon hadn't been slain but quite the opposite. In all honesty, she had nearly forgot about the whole situation with Villentrentenmerth and in turn the disappointment that stemmed from not getting ahold of his hide.
What followed was rather… bittersweet to say the least. After retrieving an inkwell and quill, Yennefer proceeded to correct previous mistakes, rework certain situations, so on and so forth whilst cursing beneath her breath for not thinking things through properly the first time. As the hours dragged on, Geralt, who had managed to sleep off most of the potion albeit still feeling a bit groggy, grew restless. Thus leading him to discard his armor for a cloth tunic and trousers before slowly opening the door. The sun had disappeared leaving the house swamped in darkness, which wasn't a problem as his pupils quickly adjusted to the faint candle light to see the enchantress still seated at the table. A half filled glass of wine before her with an untouched plate of food pushed off to the side most likely prepared by Marlene. Remaining silent as he left the doorway and arrived next to her, he couldn't do much as to skim the pages she was currently writing upon before she uttered a few words that caused his medallion to humm faintly, the ink soon becoming rather blurred and illegible. "You should be asleep." She huffed, which prompted a similar response. "So should you. What are you working on?" Keeping herself faced towards the other end of the room and away from him, Yen took a moment to respond. "Nothing of importance." Her tone betraying nothing, however it was all to clear that if it wasn't important, she wouldn't be working on it. With a sigh, the witcher would gesture towards the doorway to their room with a faint nod. "Then come to bed." Reluctantly, she stood and blew out the candles, leaving the magically obscured ink to dry on its pages as she slowly walked past the man into their room. That night, she ignored all of Geralt's attempts at cheering her up which were tried more than once before he finally fell asleep.
For Yennefer, sleep came much later than it should've due to how wound up she still was. When dawn broke and morning finally came, the witcher had already left the room silently and allowed her to sleep. Letting Barnabas know that he was going out to see if there were any other contracts to tend to. After he had left and was well on his way, the woman slowly woke to find the space beside her cold and empty. Dawdling for a few moments longer she soon worked up the courage to pull herself out of the cocoon of sheets and dress.
Once she exited the room, the majordomo had walked over and bowed his head slightly. "Geralt is out working a contract, Madam." The sorceress' eyes immediately being drawn to the table, she was relieved to see that the journal and inkwell still remain where they had been placed the night before, although not explicitly expressing as much. "So I had thought…" "He had also said not to touch whatever is was that you were working on, so I made sure to leave it be." Finishing the brief exchange with a curt 'thank you' she walked to the table and sat once more. Pleased to see a fresh glass of wine in the stale one's place, she picked up the quill and dipped it within the ink, reading over the page and resuming up where she left off. Determined to make some sort of progress.
Meanwhile, Geralt had finally happened upon something rather curious. It was, for lack of a better word, strange to say the least. He had been cantering through a lightly wooded area that had gathered an odd amount of fog for the time of day. Slowly slightly, he swore to have seen figures flit between the barely visible trees ahead. Continuing with a frown upon his face, he lowered a hand to keep Roach calm while stretching his hearing to try and see if he could locate anything. At first, nothing. But then, almost out of the blue, screaming. Akin to that of a human. Knowing that it could be a number of things rather than the most obvious, he proceeded cautiously but still with haste. Guiding a reluctant Roach towards the sound, the mare sorting with unease, he kept a hand on her neck whilst preparing to use Axii if necessary.
While he kept nearing the screaming, the wail soon grew strong enough that he was able to hear it without difficulty. At first, he thought it might be a banshee considering how feminine the cries sounded yet as he reached the end of the trail he had been following, the witcher noticed something else…
It sounded familiar.
Not in the sense that he knew what the creature was, no. But in a human sense how the tones and pitch were reminiscent of something. Someone to be exact. But who it was he couldn't place. Only that he supposedly knew the origin. Gritting his teeth, Geralt drew his silver sword while dismounting. Combating the instinctual urge to rush in blindly, he walked into the fog-shroud treeline carefully. The cries grew more distressed as he continued, grunting he tried to block it out, convinced that it was highly unlikely for anyone, much less anyone he knew, to be out in such a remote location.
It didn't take him long to reach a clearing seemingly in the center of the forest. The mist was unbelievably dense, making anything more than five feet away from himself impossible to see. By now the wailing had seem to abruptly died off, allowing the witcher to clear his mind and adjust his grip on the hilt of his silver blade, eyes scanning the surrounding area. Every now and then, it appeared as if some sort of figure would flit past him, although it was impossible to track. This game continued for a good solid few minutes until he felt a presence in the back of his mind, something similar to when Yennefer would scan his thoughts. Something was reading his mind? Was it a mage? Uncertain, he tried to block who or whatever it was out which only caused it to try harder. Pain blossoming in his skull, the man faltered momentarily, cursing beneath his breath as it gave it all the time it needed to, unfortunately, gather what it wished.
Then...the torment insued.
It began slowly, faint disembodied whisperings that he hardly paid any mind to. Then... it grew much more intense. The sounds rose to cries once more, cries of people he knew and cared for. First it was Dandelion, giving one of his oh so familiar pleas for help as something leaped at his side. Barely able to dodge the blow, claws grazing chainmail and leather, the being disappeared and continued the mental onslaught. Next it seeming as if Triss was in need of desperate help, the witcher having to concentrate hard to block out the wailing as the monster lashed out at him again, this time being much more aggressive and tearing into it's mark's armor. Swinging his silver blade downward, it was met with nothing as the being had already retreated.
"Geralt!" Yet another one of them shrieked, this time it being Yennefer's voice before quickly being replaced by Ciri's. "Geralt! Please!" Narrowing his eyes and not stopping in his current circling motion, his mind was beginning to play tricks on him as he swore he saw the ashen-haired witcheress out of the corner of his eye. Distracted by this, the beast came in once more, lunging at his back and managing to sink their claws in enough for a reasonable slash before leaping away. Snarling audibly, he spun on his heel but hadn't had the time to spot the culprit. By now the many cries were meshing, a horrid chorus of wailing and desperation cascading his senses as well as the burning pain that was plaguing his back and other wounds. Barely able to focus he managed to get ahold of himself for a brief moment, quickly casting Quen. As he did, the creature then swooped in once more but was momentarily dazed by the explosion of his shield. Taking advantage of this brief moment, the witcher wasted no time leaning forth, aiming to impale whatever it was that had been causing such hallucinations. The blade sank inside of whatever it was, the disembodied voices crying out as if they were in pain. The effect was only further increased as he looked up with a glare but was terrified to see that his silver sword had apparently been shoved through Ciri's stomach. Caught off guard by the horrified and pain ridden look within the woman's emerald eyes as well as the blood beginning to stain the shirt she normally wore, he was still stunned as the illusion shattered with a pissed off and not to mention corpse-like being rushing at him.
It took the man to the damp earth that lay beneath them both. The monster apparently done with this little game, it slashing for anything it could reach around Geralt's throat and face. Coming to his senses, he grasped the necrophage by its neck and threw it off him. Quickly righting himself, he aimed to bring his sword down upon the wounded creature, it effective in piercing its heart. The corpse spasmed twice, its maw opened in a soundless roar as life finally faded from his body. Once it is was officially deceased, the fog was slowly yet surely letting up from the surrounding area, giving way to a pleasant mid-morning sunshine. Glad for the ordeal to be over, Geralt stood and cast the beast a hateful glance while pondering what had just occurred. Foglets were known for mimicking human screams but imitating the distress of people he knew, even to the point of an illusion? It seemed much too far fetched. Hell, he wouldn't believed anyone if they would've described such as encounter to him but living it… was something else entirely. Grasping the hilt of his weapon, the witcher tugged it from the corpse before sheathing it and kneeling down to take a sample (knowing Yen would want to see it,) something caught his eye. Within it's rotting, gaping chest cavity was something quivering. Frowning somewhat, he lowered his hand inside, took hold, and pulled, revealing a beating human heart. His medallion was tugging violently upon its chain, a clear sign that the organ was seeped in magic. Taking it as well with a clear air of curiosity about, he removed a small bit of flesh from the creature before standing and whistling. Awaiting his mare's arrival.
Yennefer had been working intently all morning while also managing to consume a bit more than wine upon the coaxing of Marlene. Progress was slow, that was for certain, but she was now convinced that if she had enough magical energy within an organic material, she could recreate the properties that would be within a golden dragon's scales without needing the hide itself. Where she was going to get something of the sort, she wasn't sure. Even removing one of Philipa's limbs wouldn't be enough despite how powerful the damned wench was. But fate has an odd way of answering one's prayers when they least expected it. For as she set her quill down and reached for her wineglass, staring at the word-stained pages while swirling the liquid slowly, the door opened behind her. Setting it down and turning, the enchantress was quick to notice two things. The faint metallic scent of blood, and an unbelievably strong magical energy nearby. "I, uh, ran into one hell of a foglet." The witcher said before she could speak, making his way over to the table and setting a slightly bloodied and twitching bag upon the space next to her. "That-" Geralt said, gesturing to the bag. "-was inside of it. It apparently was taking the power from it somehow, using it to enhance itself." Nodding slowly she carefully opened the sack and stuck a gloved hand inside, removing the human heart that her lover had found. Much too stunned that she had what she needed, Yen didn't take her eyes from the organ, murmuring "Go get cleaned up… I'll tend to your wounds after as I would like to study this a bit more closely." Glad that she had said something as such, be nodded and headed off to here the basin was located, eager to relax after that whole ordeal.
Once he had left, the sorceress quickly got to work. Measuring the amount of energy within the beating heart before plugging it into various calculations, eyes wide in a silent astonishment of how this was much more than she needed. Even a small portion of it would do. Knowing Geralt would be finished soon and that his wounds needing tending, she gathered her things and set them aside, knowing she would have to begin later without fear of prying eyes.
After Geralt had finished bathing the day had already grown rather late. And so after she tended to his wounds (the gashes on his back being the worst, although his armor had blocked most of the damage to the cuts were rather shallow) he tried to coax her into bed rather early. She did decide to join him, albeit being much too eager to continue her work. But she then pushed it to the back of her mind for now, wanting to enjoy the love they made without being troubled by distractions.
Night was almost through when she finally woke admits entangled sheet's and Geralt's arms. Causing the mage to silently scold herself for falling asleep. With a suppressed sigh, she carefully began to work her way out of the bed her and the witcher shared, having a spell ready in the event he would wake. Managing to stand freely and silently dress, Yennefer hastily exited the room and grabbed her things, heading for the front door. It had been an accident when Geralt had stumbled upon the alchemy laboratory, half drunk and fooling around with Aard as the wall caved in, claiming he swore there was a huge spider clinging to the now toppled bricks. The space was promptly cleared and cleaned up, all the equipment in astounding condition despite how long it had apparently been left behind. Now it would serve quite the purpose for the evening's duration. Not delaying in the slightest, the woman was quick to set the items she needed on the wooden table, lighting the brazier as to allow some light to grace her workspace before also allowing a flame to be coaxed up beneath a few different instruments she would need for the long and arduous process.
As much as it was tiring, it was also excruciatingly frustrating. Transmutation wasn't only a much more difficult branch to effectively master, but with her having all but no practice with the magic in itself, it wasn't making the task any easier. Time and time again she would remove part of the heart and attempt to alter its properties. The spell was long and rather complicated, taking a great deal of focus and energy to work her way through once let alone attempting the damned thing over and over in rapid succession. Yen was on her last nerves as the fifth attempt failed, her tongue having gotten metaphorically tied in the middle of the phrase. Cursing in a rather loud tone, she leaned forward on the table whilst pushed the warped piece into the pile of discarded failures that she now glared upon with disdain. The arteries extending from the heart were thankfully rather long, giving her enough to work with if she would succeed rather soon. But at her current pace, the sun would rise, half the heart would be a steaming mess, and she would be past out on the floor whilst eternally hemorrhaging due to how much effort it took. Gritting her teeth, Yennefer, with a partially renewed air of determination, took another small part of the heart and tried again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Upon her ninth try, she was nearly growling the words beneath her breath. Pouring not only the remaining bits of energy she had, but sheer desperation as well. As she spoke, the organic piece morphed and changed, the sight not particularly wonderful, but as she nearly finished it began to take a faint golden hue before finally spreading out and flattening slightly, scales protruding from its surface. Vision blurring with blood beginning to pour from her nose, the sorceress uttered the final phrase with sheer amounts of relief before leaning on the table heavily. Trying to keep herself upright, she raised the back of her hand to try and limit the flow of blood while blinking rapidly to try and get a glimpse of the piece of the heart. And as her sight cleared somewhat, her breath paused momentarily as an indescribable mix of joy and anxiousness flooded through her. The wall of the artery was not anymore, instead, a decent patch of about an inch by an inch of the hide of a golden dragon was within its place. Renewed somewhat by this, she was quick to act, preparing the many vials, ingredients, and substances she required to finish the elixir.
Dawn had already broke by the time the final product was within her grasp. A small vial filled to the brim with an unpleasant looking brownish-gold color. Examining it thoroughly both with magical and more practical means, she was more than pleased to find no traces of impurities. But as she brought it to her lips, the sound of footsteps were heard fast approaching. Cursing silently, Yen hurriedly drained the container with a fierce gag before setting it down and appearing to be examining the beating heart. "You're up early." Geralt commented while entering the chamber, examining her work carefully. "How many days can I lie in bed till noon till I waste away?" She asked nonchalantly, albeit being more than exhausted, mentally and physically speaking. "Isn't that what retirement's for?" Her lover inquired in a partially mocking tone, causing her to turn and face him with her lips parted in preparation for a response that never came as a terrifically familiar pain tore through her lower abdomen akin to being stabbed with serrated daggers. "Yen, are you alright? There's blood…" The witcher began looking to the dried crust that remained around her nose but slowly trailed off as his eyes flicked to the ever growing smile upon the enchantress lips. "I'm fine." Yennefer stated calmly with noticeable hints of joy. "Perfectly, wonderfully fine."wonderfully fine."