Many Years Ago
The fire crackled and simmered from within the glowing logs as Aiden of Skellige stoked the flames. Cicadas, laughter, drunken chatter and smoke filled the bitterly cold mountain winter air around Kaer Morhen. Witchers from all schools had gathered for a night of frivolities before a selection of trainees from The School of The Wolf would undergo the last of their mutations the next morning.
It was a celebration and an event of mourning, a form of goodbye and a form of welcome. If the trainees survived, they'd be welcomed to a life of monster hunting and continues battles along deserted roads. If they died, at least they had celebrated the short time they'd spent living.
Geralt of Rivia was one of those trainees, and that prospect made a young Aiden's heart skip several beats and his breath catch in his throat. So he sat by the fire, quiet in his anxiety and preemptive pain, while everyone else partied like it was their last night in the world.
What surprised him a moment later though was Geralt who sat down beside him on the stone bench. His hand curled around the back of Aiden's neck and Geralt pulled him into a half hug. They sat there for a long moment until finally, the older Witcher spoke.
"Don't look so glum over there," Geralt said and handed Aiden the cup that he was holding.
"Aiden-" Geralt started when Aiden didn't respond immediately.
"I'm not glum, I'm just-" Aiden shook his head and sipped the liquid in the cup.
"Oh fuck, moonshine?" He gasped, inhaling the liquid he had yet to swallow. The young trainee rasped and coughed.
"Letho brought it," Geralt laughed and released him from their embrace, patting Aiden on the back as he struggled to compose himself. Geralt's touch sent shivers down his spine and he took another sip of moonshine to try to distract himself from his rapidly beating heart.
"Of course he did," Aiden managed and looked down at the cup cradled in his hands. Once he no longer felt like his stomach was doing flip flops, he glanced back to where Letho was. The giant, scarred man sat, hunched over and stern, with Vesemir. They were playing Gwent around a small table beside another roaring fire.
"Aren't you nervous?" Aiden asked gently. He didn't expect a genuine answer but it didn't hurt to ask. As he'd thought, he only got a sideways glance and a small smile as the two descended into silence.
Aiden handed back the cup of moonshine and stood to go get his own. He returned a moment later, sat back down in his spot and took a long sip. The drink settled in his belly and his head began to swim.
Silence descended upon them but he could hear Vesemir cursing from behind and Aiden smirked. Not a moment later Vesimir planted himself on the bench opposite them, the old Witcher warming his hands against the fire with a grimace plastered on his face.
"I'm guessing Letho won?" Geralt asked and Aiden hid his grin behind his cup. Vesemir glared heavily at Geralt.
"Motherfucker-" Vesemir started and Geralt snorted.
"He did!" Aiden snickered and let out a loud belly laugh.
"You shouldn't be laughing, little shite," Vesemir growled and Aiden snorted, nearly spilling the moonshine when he took another sip.
"I'm no little shite anymore, old man," Aiden shot back and Vesemir looked him over, he could feel Geralt's gaze on him too.
"No- not little anymore but still a shite," Vesemir suddenly got a wicked gleam in his eye as he looked between Geralt and Aiden.
"Oh fuck-" Aiden whispered under his breath and glanced over at Geralt. Geralt had narrowed his eyes, also realising that Vesemir had just had an idea that could potentially cause some trouble.
"Say you two, how about a sparring match?"
"So you can earn back some of the orens you just lost?" Aiden smirked and Geralt chuckled.
"So we can finally see if you've learnt a thing or two from Geralt, or if the protege is better than the teacher?" Geralt scoffed and Aiden gave Vesemir a dark glare.
"Fine," Geralt stood and Aiden's eyes widened, his mouth agape.
"You're humouring this shit?" Aiden grumbled and scrambled to his feet. Vesemir stood, drew his steel sword and so did Geralt. Aiden found Vesemir's sword thrust into his hands not a second later.
Vesemir announced their battle and a ring of people surrounded the two. Aiden weighed Vesemir's sword in his palm and whirled it around, his fingers dancing deftly around the hilt. He looked at Geralt who stood at the ready, his sword held perfectly straight before him and Aiden grinned at his mentor.
"Fine, let's do this," Aiden was acutely aware of the size difference between himself and Geralt as well as the fact that Vesemir's sword was heavier in his hand than his own would have been. He paused for a moment and stepped towards Geralt.
Geralt lunged forward, sword slicing through the air to slash at Aiden but he dodged the oncoming attack, swivelling to the side and stepping backwards. He swung around, coming up behind Geralt and tried to land a blow between his shoulder blades but Geralt twisted his sword around behind his back, effectively blocking the blow.
Aiden jumped back and Geralt pirouetted, slashing at Aiden's face but he leaned back, narrowly avoiding the tip of the blade. The crowd had begun to cheer, egging them both on and Aiden brought his sword up defensively then Geralt lunged forward.
Their swords clashed, but Aiden slid his down and cut across Geralt's forearm, slicing a deep gash into the soon to be White Wolf's flesh.
Geralt hissed and shoved Aiden backwards, causing him to stumble in the wet muck that was the castle grounds. Geralt took that moment to stalk Aiden, his sword at the ready.
As he flew backwards Aiden's left foot slipped in the mud and he fell onto one knee. Knowing he had to act fast, he pulled a dagger from his belt and brought both blades up to counter Geralt's sword which bore down on him an instant later.
"Shit-" Aiden growled as he strained beneath the larger man's weight but he managed to find his footing and barely pushed Geralt back. The moment their swords disconnected Aiden ducked down, Geralt's blade just barely missing his cheek. He swung his leg around and slammed his boot into Geralt's before jumping onto his feet when Geralt hit the ground.
Aiden backed away, heaving as he tried to catch his breath but Geralt recovered quickly and threw his sword directly at Aiden's chest. Aiden deflected the oncoming blade and the sound of steel slamming into steel rang out. Aiden gasped as Vesemir's sword broke and Geralt's blade clattered into the sludge.
Aiden glanced over at Vesemir, who looked none too happy but did nothing to stop the fight. He dropped the broken sword and gripped his dagger tightly. Geralt was on his feet now and Aiden swallowed hard, tightening his grip on his dagger.
Aiden rushed Geralt, raising the small weapon but Geralt grabbed his wrist and slammed his fist directly into Aiden's solar plexus, winding him. Aiden retaliated by grabbing Geralt by the shirt and slamming his head into Geralt's nose.
Blood splattered into Aiden's eyes and streamed down Geralt's face, the blow sending Geralt stumbling back. When Geralt's grip loosened on his wrist, Aiden wrenched it free but Geralt swung at Aiden again. Anticipating the attack, he pirouetted out of reach.
Geralt found his footing and wiped his bleeding nose as their eyes locked. Geralt advanced on Aiden and brought his fists up, catching Aiden in the jaw but Aiden recovered quickly and sliced along Geralt's ribs, lacerating skin.
Geralt grabbed Aiden around the neck and yanked him under his arm, bringing his knee up and slamming it into Aiden's ribs thrice. The sound of bones cracking could be heard and he fell to his knees, his palms sinking into thick mud as he coughed and wheezed.
Geralt stepped back, thinking the fight was over but Aiden curled his fingers around his dagger and stabbed upwards, sinking it deeply into Geralt's inner thigh.
Geralt's eyes widened but Aiden wrenched his dagger free and stood, bringing his dagger up to Geralt's throat. Everything stopped for a moment, Geralt and Aiden staring hard at one another before Geralt grabbed the blade, slicing his palm, and pulled it from Aiden's grasp.
He turned them both around and shoved Aiden against the wall of the castle, the blade now at Aiden's throat. Their bodies met and Aiden gasped, his mind immediately drawn from the fight and into the close proximity of the older man. Aiden froze.
"We're done," Geralt growled, and Aiden nodded. Geralt signalled the end of the fight by dropping the dagger and the crowd cheered. Aiden struggled to breathe as Geralt's warmth seeped into his skin through his mud-soaked clothing, neither men moved, their eyes locked together.
Vesemir approached them and finally, Geralt pulled away from Aiden. Vesemir stared at the both of them, a frown etched deep into his face.
"You two better go wash up," With that, Vesemir walked away, leaving Aiden and Geralt alone.
Aiden let out a soft sigh as Geralt turned away, but then his adrenaline wore off and the pain in his ribs hit him, he doubled over, cringing and groaning. He barely saw the hand Geralt offered him, it was oozing and covered in blood, but he took it and steadied himself.
"Fuck..." He murmured and Geralt smirked faintly at him, his own eyes reflecting a good deal of pain.
"Come on," Geralt steered Aiden gently towards the fire. Both men limped over and sat down, Aiden closed his eyes for a moment, still remembering what it felt like to feel Geralt pressed against him.
Once Vesemir finished collecting his money, he came over to both of them with another bottle of moonshine and several vials of swallow.
"You did good kid," The old Witcher said with a smirk and Aiden just shook his head.
"Why don't you both head over to the infirmary?" Vesemir suggested but Geralt was already mixing two more cups of moonshine and copious amounts of swallow for both of them.
"We will but for now-" Aiden took the cup shoved in his direction and Geralt drank deeply from his cup. "We drink,"
An hour and two bottles of moonshine later, Geralt and Aiden stood on unsteady feet to make their way to the infirmary. Once there, Aiden tossed a bottle of alcoholest to Geralt then he grabbed some bandages, a washcloth and a bowl of water. Gently and without a word, Aiden began cleaning the wounds he'd inflicted upon Geralt.
"I'm sorry-" His words were slurred, and Geralt just chuckled.
"It was Vesemir's idea,"
"Yes, but I didn't have to use the dagger-" Geralt quietened and Aiden worked clumsily. He finished with Geralt's hand and moved on to cleaning the gash on his forearm, his fingers gentle yet rough with calluses. Touching Geralt's skin sent shivers down Aiden's spine but he ignored them and focused on the task before him.
"Aiden-"
"Hmm-" Aiden looked up to see Geralt smiling at him.
"You did well," Aiden blushed as he wiped the blood from Geralt's nose.
"Thank you," Aiden murmured as he dipped the cloth into the bowl and wrung it out. He stopped instantly when he felt Geralt's fingers lift his chin gently, those digits featherlight against his skin.
Aiden looked over Geralt for a long moment before he cupped Geralt's bruised cheek in his palm. Then, he leaned in and gently touched their noses together, the alcohol in his system telling him this was alright. Geralt rubbed his nose slowly against his and Aiden placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Is this okay?" Aiden whispered against Geralt's skin and he nodded slightly. A second later, Aiden closed the distance between them in a frantic kiss.
