I intended to write the most generic whump possible. Nenneke came and decided to share some backstory of how she met Geralt. I couldn't resist. Still, there is whump as well:

Prompts used:
- NO. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT - Tossing and turning
- NO. 31 LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL - Bedside vigil

Chapter II

Nenneke was tired, there was no denying it. She spent the night at Geralt's side, watching him toss weakly as the fever tried to consume his body. It broke at dawn and the witcher woke soon after, for which she was grateful. There was a moment she feared he would not, and she had grown fond of that young witcher.

She remembered the first time Geralt came to the temple. He was about eight, freshly after the Trials, all sticking bones and curious eyes darting everywhere from under short, shockingly white hair. Witcher eyes. The boy, unlike his friends, was still recovering, though he scoffed at his guardian when he talked with mother superior about that.

The witcher left him and two other boys for the winter to study at the temple. Geralt and the other boy his age, Eskel, learned math, history and other basics, and worked alongside girls, sharing both daily chores and mischief. Their older friend studied on his own. Nenneke remembered the tumult they made in the gardens when the third boy, a couple of years older than Geralt and Eskel, practiced his signs on the yard, tossing the snow high over the playing children.

Witchers were unique, Nenneke learned the first time she got to examine Geralt. She was told to keep an eye on him after he was pushed through additional experiments aside from the Trials. Neither mother superior nor the witcher who brought the boys wished to talk about the details, but even without it she could tell whatever they did was not gentle to the boy. Geralt himself wasn't exactly forthcoming either, but he couldn't refuse when the priestesses took him and Eskel for examination.

Nenneke was mesmerised by the way their hearts worked and by those weird, unnatural eyes. Geralt and Eskel were both still adapting to the changes so violently brought to their bodies, getting used to the fact they could control their reactions to greater extent than normal humans. They were clearly taught what to expect, but Nenneke saw they could sometimes get overwhelmed and struggle before they worked out how to adjust.

Neither would talk about the Trials at all. Nenneke tried once and was met with defiance. Geralt told her he wasn't allowed to talk about it to anyone who wasn't a witcher and flat refused to do anything with her until she changed the subject. Besides, what could a child tell her about what was done to him? It was stupid of her to ask. Nenneke settled for observing in case she ever needed to know the differences.

As spring came near, the boys grew excited and talked more about the upcoming witcher training they were going to be finally allowed. It was harder to get them to sit still and study and more often than not they could be found hunting mice in the cellars. They left for Kaer Morhen soon after the snow melted.

Geralt spent two other winters in the temple as a teenager, polishing his elder speech and studying more advanced alchemy and biology. Since Nenneke was one of the few who remained in the temple rather than leaving to become a healer or a midwife, she was the one he came to when he needed assistance. He was more willing to share some details from his training and she could often find him in some secluded part of the gardens, engrossed in his deadly dance regardless of the weather. And like the first time, he left with the first sign of spring.

Nenneke didn't see him for the next three years. Next time he showed up, three years prior, Geralt was no longer a boy. He was wearing a sword on his back and wolf medallion on his neck. He just stopped by to see a friendly face before going further south, he told her when she asked if he had come to seek help. There was something different in his eyes, but he refused to talk about it and Nenneke didn't push. She was glad he counted the temple as a friendly place and that he visited each season, every time his way passed nearby.

She was less glad to see Geralt coming so gravely wounded, but at least now that he was here, she could make sure he recovered. His wounds were fresh and still aggravated, but luckily not infected. She made sure he was drugged enough before heading to get some sleep.

xxx

What she didn't expect was being woken by her doors being opened so abruptly they slammed against the wall.

"Mother Nenneke, I'm sorry." Annika, a young priestess, came to a halt as she failed to catch the doors in time. She was breathing heavily as if she had just stopped running.

"What's wrong?" Nenneke was already out of the bed, wide awake. People usually didn't barge into her bedroom without a good reason.

"It's the witcher. The fever's got worse and I couldn't calm him. You said-"

"You did well." Nenneke stopped the rambling. "I'll go to him, you bring me some boiling water, just in case." She grabbed her robe, fastening the belt on her way.

Geralt was indeed thrashing in bed, his face tight with pain. When Nenneke touched him to still him, he whimpered and tried to curl.

"No, don't do that, you'll just rip everything," the priestess forced him down. The witcher's hand shot blindly to push her aside. "Geralt, dammit, it's me. You're safe and I want to help you." Nenneke grasped his wrist and muttered a prayer, wiping the wet hair from his forehead. The hand she held went limp. "You don't get a word I say, do you," she sighed.

As it turned out, Geralt was actually more awake than she initially thought. He ceased fighting her, but his eyes fluttered open. "Hurts," he rasped. "Can't-"

Nenneke cupped his clammy face and frowned. She was fairly sure she dosed him with enough painkillers to last most of the night, yet it was obvious he was too much in pain to be able to rest. She wasn't sure what was the cause of his distress, but of one thing she was fairly certain. Another dose wouldn't be dangerous, unlike the possibility of the witcher undoing all of her good work.

Geralt drank greedily and relaxed a bit. His breathing evened as the medicine started working, but it took nearly another hour before he finally fell asleep for good. Nenneke sat beside him, aiding him with her prayers until she was sure he wouldn't wake soon. The fever didn't go higher, but Nenneke didn't want to risk leaving. Instead she made herself comfortable in an armchair, knowing she would wake if the wounded started trashing again.

xxx

"Nenneke?"

The priestess blinked. The sun was getting through the half open curtains, bathing the floor between her and the bed in bright light, blinding her. She must have finally fallen into a deeper sleep after waking several times to check on the witcher.

"You're lucid," she smiled and wiped the rest of sleepiness from her eyes. "Good."

"Sorry to wake you," Geralt said quietly and coughed. "You told me not to move. Repeatedly."

"Ah, I'm glad you remembered that at least." Nenneke came over and propped him up. She reached for the glass of water he was eyeing and helped him drink.

"Thank you." Geralt leaned his head against the back of the bed. "Seems I scared one of your girls," he muttered sourly. "Sorry."

"Don't be silly. She ran to get me because you got worse, not because she was frightened. Get it in your head once and for all that it takes more than your eyes and your reflexes to scare one of us," she reproached him with fondness she didn't bother hiding.

Geralt nodded slightly in acknowledgement. "My apologies, Mother."

Nenneke didn't miss the way he sucked a breath the moment he tried to shift. "Does it hurt more again? Hmm, it seems your body consumes my medicine far more quickly than it should."

"Sadly, yes," Geralt winced. "My potion would be better."

"Tell me how and I will make it for you."

The witcher looked taken aback. He hesitated.

"Geralt, for pity's sake, I'm not going to spill your witcher secrets left and right," Nenneke rolled her eyes, her irritation growing. "You are not going to get decent rest if you wake every three hours from pain. And I too wouldn't mind sleeping a while longer at a time. We can leave experimenting with the right doses of my medicine for you once you feel a bit better."

Predictably, Geralt couldn't argue with that. Nenneke made him repeat the formula to make sure she got everything right. The ingredients were similar to the ones she used, but the proportions were slightly altered.

"I will send Annika back. Try to eat something while I'm gone."