Geralt is recovering and Nenneke recalls her first meeting with him.

Prompts used:
- NO.2 NOWHERE TO RUN
- Alt. prompt 2 - whimpering
- Alt. prompt 6 - sensory overload

Chapter III

"Aren't you a bit too old to be hiding here?"

Geralt startled violently and Nenneke realised she had just managed to surprise a witcher without even trying. Not that she expected to find him napping in front of the greenhouse, sitting awkwardly on the boxes with fertiliser. Or even out of his room.

The young witcher had the decency to look like a youngling caught stealing cookies from the kitchen. "I'm not hiding," he said, somewhat embarrassed, and wiped his eyes. "Just... Need a moment."

"So I see your hearing is worsening with your recovery," Nenneke looked at him pointedly. "Or is it your memory? I explicitly remember telling you today you can get up and move around the room. NOT around the whole temple."

"Yes, I've realised, so please spare me."

"I can't help you back right now. Do you need me to call someone?" Nenneke looked closer at him, searching for any signs indicating she should be alarmed. The witcher was weary and even paler than usual. He couldn't be very comfortable on the boxes, but Nenneke was glad he had enough sense to sit down before he fell somewhere face first. And considering that she just found him sleeping, he probably wasn't yet up to trying anything more taxing than a walk. He was recovering remarkably, given the gravity of his injury, but he had just spent over a week in bed, hardly able to move. To see him up and this far from his room was an improvement Nenneke didn't expect yet.

"I'm fine, Nenneke, truly," Geralt sighed. She half expected him to squirm under her gaze. "I can get back on my own... In a moment," he added, sheepish, when she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Very well. Get up." The priestess offered him a hand. "Don't look at me like that and close your mouth. I need those plucked and the sooner we're done, the sooner I can make sure you don't trip over your own feet."

Geralt glanced at the basket full of herbs she waved at and chuckled. He took the offered help and stood, shutting his eyes for a moment as the change of position made him sway. He was a head taller than her, but Nenneke remembered the time when he barely reached her elbow. They had been first properly introduced in that same greenhouse she now led him to. Fifteen years had passed since then.

xxx

A whimper was not something she expected to hear. Nenneke paused and set her scissors aside. She was fairly sure no one was supposed to be in the greenhouse she worked in, not at this hour. It was her duty this week to water and trim the plants and she didn't ask anyone for assistance. Besides, the plants growing here were precious and no one would let students work with them, let alone unsupervised. Nenneke headed towards the entrance, listening.

There it was again, a whimper, soft and muffled. Childish. This time she followed the sound directly, expecting to find a child somewhere. Now that she was quite sure she hadn't misheard, the task was easy.

She noticed a small silhouette by the doors and knew with one glance it wasn't one of the girls living in the temple, hiding here to cry. Nenneke immediately recognised one of the boys a witcher brought and left three days prior; with his short white hair it was hard to mistake him for anybody else. From what the young priestess could see, he seemed unharmed; no torn clothes, no obvious signs such as scraped knees or elbows. Yet he was obviously upset.

The boy was sitting between two large pots, knees dragged up his chest, eyes squeezed shut. His frame shook as he tried to supress another sob.

"What's wrong?" Nenneke knelt beside him, trying to keep alarm from her voice. "Are you hurt?"

The boy shook his head and covered his ears with his hands.

"The temple," he whispered after a while without opening his eyes. "It's too loud. And too bright."

Ah, she remembered what she heard about the boy. Recovering. No wonder a new and bustling place could be overwhelming. Making a quick decision, she reached to scoop him up. The child tensed terribly the moment she touched him, but didn't grasp her hands like she expected him to.

"I will take you somewhere where it's darker, alright? Then we can figure out what to do next."

He whimpered again but made no move when she picked him.

Nenneke crossed the yard, the boy's tiny feet dangling freely as he made no attempt to wrap his legs around her hips. She headed straight to the shed with tools and went inside as far inside as the stored goods allowed her. She sat on the boxes by the wall and placed the little witcher in her lap. The boy sat a awkwardly at first, but then relaxed and leaned against her. His breathing stopped hitching.

"Is it better here?" Nenneke asked in a quiet voice. Now that the boy calmed, his pulse under her fingers felt unbelievably slow and for a moment she thought he had fallen asleep.

"Yes, thank you."

"What's your name?"

"Geralt," the boy muttered, sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. "It's stupid," he pouted. "I know I can do it just like this."

Before Nenneke could ask what he meant, Geralt hopped from her knees and marched straight to the doors. She followed, not intending to let the child run off like that just yet. The boy turned his face defiantly towards the sun and she watched his pupils narrow to the point they became vertical skits.

"That's useful," she observed, squinting her eyes as she looked the same way. "So... What happened before?"

Geralt stopped staring at the sun and his eyes turned more normal. He shrugged, embarrassed. "I don't know. It was just- just too much and it didn't work!"

"Did that happen before?" Nenneke knelt to meet his eye level.

"A couple of times, after-" he stopped abruptly. "But it was never so loud in Kaer Morhen. We could hide and wait it out. And here... The kitchens were loud. And then… I got lost," he pouted again.

Now that he said so, it made perfect sense the boys were placed in a large room near the library, in the more secluded part of the monastery. Nenneke didn't miss the 'we' Geralt slipped. If all new witchers were struggling at first to adapt to their new abilities, his friend was possibly dealing with the same problems.

"How about this? I will take you back to your room now, and tomorrow I will find someone to give you and your friends a round around here. And the next time things go this bad, you can come to me. I will find you something else to do in a quieter place."

Geralt was clearly surprised by her offer. His unusual eyes lit up. "How do I find you?"

"Ask for Nenneke. I'm usually around. Now come."

xxx

"What is it that you find so amusing?" Geralt's question dragged Nenneke from her memories.

"You are no longer dangling your feet sitting here," she responded with a smirk. They were both working by the table, the priestess sorting and packing herbs the witcher was obediently plucking for her. Both Geralt and Eskel had helped her here on several occasions after she had offered them such alternative.

Geralt looked mildly affronted. "I thought mother superior would have others to do such work for her," he retorted. He leaned back in his chair and sipped the herbs Nenneke offered him.

"Why give up work I enjoy?" shrugging, Nenneke tied the last of the small satchels. "Now, are you up to walking?" She asked, eyeing at his mug. The concoction she gave him was nothing strong, but it should be enough to boost him a bit.

Now it was Geralt's turn to sigh in exasperation. "I told you I'm fine. Just sore and tired."

"Say that again once you're back in your room."