Author's Note: Your recent reviews really meant a lot folks, thank you! And hello to anyone who is new. Please feel free to give it a fav/follow as I am actively posting and writing!
Ward of Kaer Morhen – Chapter 6
Geralt urged Roach onwards through the winding roads out of Ard Carraigh, turning back occasionally to make sure there was no torchlight visible in the distance. Nym refused to look back, her eyes burning with tears as they galloped out of the city. How foolish she had been to bring her friends into this. She hoped Lise, Thomas and Deidre wouldn't think too badly of her, she hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. Their family could be implicated in this mess, if not by city guards then by her brothers and their friends. Lie, please lie and protect yourselves, she thought desperately. She had never known her father to take no for an answer, they would pursue her doggedly now that they'd almost found her. This was their favourite part of the hunt - not the kill, but the chase and struggle. Her head swirled as Geralt's words repeated in her mind - 'they're not who they say they are'. Who then, were they?
They would have to head to Kaer Morhen, Geralt decided. Traveling South now would be a mistake, with the potential of multiple groups giving chase. There was no hiding her if he was recognized most places he went, and he wasn't about to leave her alone in some sordid village. It was too early for the other Witchers to have settled at the Keep for Winter, but Vesemir would be there, waiting for them to arrive over the next few months. Triss would also turn up within the fortnight, he remembered, cursing himself for sending the letter. He'd acted too soon in his haste to forget, but perhaps she'd be able to offer some insight into the matter. Judging by the men he had encountered at the Boar, Deidre was right - they were not a family of average merchants. One of them had said the name 'Teruin' - this had to be one of Nym's brothers. He looked at her, trying to imagine her around those people her entire life. Perhaps she'd change her mind about not wanting them killed.
They drove the horses on, stopping at a forest at the base of the Gwenllech river. The mountains were closer now, and the night wind howled through the dense canopy above them. Nym slipped off of Beast's back, patting him in thanks. The horses had been put through their paces, their breath visible even in the night. Geralt retrieved a torch, realizing that Nym had been following him almost blindly into the dark woods.
"Stay close, and keep your dagger near." He said, his voice low.
The forests around the base of the mountains weren't always safe, bears and wolves roamed these parts freely due to the lack of inhabitants. Nym retrieved her dagger, tucking it into the loop of her belt. Her heart hadn't stopped pounding since they'd arrived at Ard Carraigh, he wondered how much more it could take. It would be at least another day before they arrived at Kaer Morhen, and the mountain path was harsh and unforgiving. Nym rubbed her arms, the cold starting to set in as they wandered deeper into the woods.
"Hold this," Geralt passed her the torch.
He fetched a thicker traveling cloak from his pack and draped it around Nym, tying it up at the front. It buried her, but she nodded appreciatively, pulling it closer.
Geralt swivelled around, his ears picking up the sounds of creatures running in the distance. Wolves, or wargs? He drew his sword as the sounds of snarling and panting neared. The wind had likely carried the scent of the horses to them.
"Stay behind me." He warned, drawing his sword.
A few of them howled, they weren't far now. Nym grasped both sets of reins and backed into a boulder with the horses as the creatures approached. It was a pack of four wargs, along with three wolves. She had heard of wargs, but never seen them herself. They were much larger than the wolves, their bright red eyes visible to her even in the torchlight. They circled around Nym & Geralt, growling and baring their teeth. She held the horses firmly, hoping that they wouldn't bolt. Geralt wasted no time, slashing at the first one that came too close. It yelped in pain and others took its place fervently. A sudden blast of flames emitted from his body, illuminating the clearing and burning several of the wargs. Nym's eyes widened, had he used Witcher magic?
A warg launched itself at his neck and he speared it on his sword, swinging its lifeless body away. Two more rushed Geralt, attempting to overwhelm him. Her question was answered by the use of another spell, a blast of telekinetic power that threw the creatures back, some metres away. The pack's attack lessened in intensity as Geralt's barrage continued. She watched him closely, her fear dissipating into awe at the skill and grace with which he fought. The rudimentary training she had received from him was nothing in comparison to this - he was a force of nature. His face displayed no signs of stress or alarm, it was almost solemn as he killed the creatures one by one. She felt as though she had just started to understand what it meant to do the work he did. He was made for it, and not just in body. The last beast died with a strangled yelp as Geralt drove his sword into its throat, removing it swiftly. He wiped the blade on the grass and sheathed it, returning to Nym and the uneasy horses.
Good, she hadn't run off into the night at first sight of the creatures, most grown men would have tucked their tails and fled. She was looking at him in a curious manner, not in shock but almost in.. wonder? He had only cast two signs, but it was likely the first time she'd ever seen a Witcher in full combat. She held her fingers up, making the sign for Igni - a triangular claw that allowed the casting Witcher to send a powerful burst of flame towards his opponents.
"You're not the only one with tricks up your sleeve," he smirked, taking Roach's reins from her.
She smiled in return, the same lopsided smile he enjoyed so much. He hadn't seen it in a while. To his surprise, Nym bent down to study the bodies of the wargs he had just slain, examining the fullness of their coats and their long teeth and claws. She held one of their paws up to her hand in reverence, comparing their sizes. He bent down in the bloodied grass with her.
"You've skinned wolves before?" He asked. She nodded in reply.
"I use their tallow on occasion, it's a common ingredient required for some decoctions and blade oils." He lifted up one of their paws, examining the deep gash he'd made in its side. She tapped the two swords sheathed across his back and gestured questioningly.
"The silver one is for monsters, that's a runic inscription on the side.. The other one is just steel." Geralt looked up, fixing his eyes on her. He was unaccustomed to answering questions about his trade, most people made up their own stories or accepted rumours as fact. They still hadn't had a chance to discuss what had happened earlier, he realized. This wasn't the place, however.
"Let's keep moving, we shouldn't rest here." He stood, offering her his hand, which she took. That curious heat traveled up his fingertips again as she stood. He wondered when it'd stop, it was disorienting enough to hear and sense so much without having to interpret this too. No one else had noticed that heat upon touching her, he thought, recalling that Lise and Deidre had touched her hands and shoulders without issue.
They made their way through the forest, passing more areas littered with stones and boulders from the mountains. Geralt's eyes picked out a cavern entrance in the fringe of the mountain, it was one he recognized. Eskel had slain the golem that had resided in the cavern many years ago, it would be a safe place to rest now. Fire out in the open would draw eyes, if anyone was to come this way in the night.
"Watch your step." He said, holding the torch high as Nym and the horses trailed him down the rocky slope into the cavern.
The entrance was bordered with creeping vines and the stairs had partially eroded long ago. A carved stone archway led into a large circular room with a high ceiling. He lit some of the sconces around the border of the room, and inspected the cavern. Other than some fallen rocks and dust, it was empty.
"This will do for the night. We'll travel to the Witcher's Keep in the morning - Kaer Morhen." He said, rifling through his pack for water. Nym did the same, offering some to Beast in the palm of her hand. She slumped into a seated position against the wall and ran a hand through her hair, exhaling in relief and exhaustion. She had never heard of the Witcher's Keep, but perhaps it was akin to Geralt's home.
"Sleep. It'll be a difficult ride tomorrow." He unstrapped the bedroll and passed it to Nym. She shook her head. There was no chance in hell she'd be able to sleep just yet after the events of the day. Her bones ached from riding, and her head was starting to hurt from thinking so much. She looked inquisitively at Geralt, what had he meant about her family? She mouthed the words 'my family', her brow furrowed. He sat down cross-legged beside her.
"Ah, Deidre had heard of them. She said your father had some dealings with the lords in the area, and that the goods they were trading were sometimes smuggled or stolen. The tapestries and trophies in your house - they aren't the types of things you can acquire easily." He explained, frowning.
Nym blinked, her eyes moving as she tried to remember the things her father had in storage or had brought home. Scrolls, books, bottles of liquor, animal trophies, furs and artwork… They were either samples of the things he traded, or gifts. His prized possession was a bronze and steel sabre, with a curved blade and etchings in the hilt. A birthday gift from a friend, he had said. As for the fact that these items were rare - she wouldn't have known. Nym had never spent much time in other people's homes, save for a few women who had watched her when she was a child and her father was away on trade journeys. That had stopped when they began questioning her father's treatment of her.
"What of your mother, Nym? What happened to her?" Geralt asked, his eyes glinting in the light. Nym looked down and mouthed the word. 'Dead.' She pointed at herself and made a cradling gesture, then mouthed again. 'In childbirth.' It was a little too complicated to explain that her mother had run away and fallen pregnant after a tryst with another man. Nym was a bastard. Her father had taken newborn Nym in and given her a home, raising her with her half brothers in spite of his wife's adultery.
"Your brothers - they're older than you then?" She nodded. Ryffon was twenty-six, and Teruin was just shy of thirty.
Geralt leaned back against the stone walls of the cavern, putting together the image. Perhaps they had mistreated her because of some resentment regarding the nature of her mother's passing. Nym pointed at Geralt and mouthed - 'your parents?'
"My father was killed before I was born. My mother left me to become a Witcher when I was a child." He answered after a brief pause.
Nym furrowed her brow, Geralt's mother had abandoned him by choice. Her own mother's death was an ache she barely noticed anymore. She had never known her. Did he miss her? It didn't seem like the right thing to ask him. She tried to imagine Geralt as a child, would he have had white hair? She touched her own hair and pointed at him.
"That happened later during the trial. The process we go through to become Witchers. I was given a few… extra doses." His lips quirked into a half-smile. She returned it briefly, she'd save the rest of her questions for later. They sat in silence for a while, watching the horses. Nym's heartbeat had finally started to slow. He closed his eyes, taking in the steady sound of it. Her answers had led to even more questions, but it was best left there for the evening. They had been traveling for what felt like days, and they would need the rest for tomorrow.
Nym sighed and pulled her knees into her chest. So that's what they had been doing on their trade missions and meetings. She wasn't necessarily surprised, but her father had always seemed too imperious a figure to be a thief and a crook. Her brothers had known, and had revered him for it nonetheless. Her eyes slid to the Witcher at her side, who was resting with his eyes closed. For all Teruin's talk of Geralt's kind, he had proven to be the only person she'd ever met who she trusted entirely, he had saved her life more than once now.
She looked down at Geralt's scarred hands, and then outstretched her own smaller hand before her to compare. She wasn't necessarily a small person, but was used to the feeling of smallness. She didn't feel that way now, around Geralt. In fact, she had started to feel as though she was growing in every direction all of a sudden. Although he had rescued and guided her, he had also made it quite clear that she had a say in her own future. A new and alarming sense of freedom and autonomy had risen within her in the last few days. She looked at his hands again, suppressed the urge to reach for them and instead studied his face. His deep set eyes and strong brow were slightly intimidating, even when he was at ease. So far, Geralt had avoided any sort of friendly physical contact with her, he had even flinched once or twice at her touch. It didn't matter anyway, she hadn't experienced much in the way of physical comfort or pleasure. A few run-ins with her brothers' friends didn't count. Nym's gaze flickered down to his lips briefly. She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.
"Is something wrong?" Geralt turned, giving her a start.
Nym exhaled, it was easy to forget that he could hear her heartbeat. She'd have to rein in her thoughts when he was this near. She waved her hand dismissively and shook her head. His eyes searched her face, seeking out the telltale red in her ears. Ah. This was the difficult part with Nym. She would never come out in plain sight. Tired and strung out from the last few days, he gave into the voice in the back of his mind that had been urging him to tug on this thread.
"Were you thinking about something frightening?" He questioned composedly. She shook her head, taking the bait.
"Ah, then something… exciting?" The corner of his mouth lifted. She shrugged, standing up to fetch something from her pack.
Geralt smirked as her back was turned. He had to be careful, Nym was a natural at this dance and had already ended up on top once. Still.. the thought of drawing her feelings out into the open was too tempting to resist. He would feel ridiculous if it were a one-sided affair. She sat back down a little further away, chewing on a piece of dried fruit. Of course she would choose to eat to distract herself. Geralt changed tack.
"Let me see how your wound has healed." He said firmly - not a question, but a command.
Nym's head jolted up, her eyes narrowing a little. He was leaning against the wall, his arm resting on one knee - a picture of nonchalance. It was a challenge, two could play at this. She downed the morsel of dried fig in preparation then shuffled over to face him, using her blush to her advantage. 'Relish that while you can, you rogue' she thought.
Nym began undoing the ties on her blouse timidly. All an act, but still enticing enough to enjoy, he thought. She bared her shoulder to him, hiding her corset. Her face was turned away, the torchlight illuminating her collarbones and jaw. Thick, glossy tresses of hair hung in front of her left shoulder, hiding her wound. Hah, he would win the upper hand this time. Very gently, Geralt reached out to sweep the side of her face, her jaw and neck to tuck her hair back. A trail of goosebumps followed him on her golden skin. This time he welcomed the heat. Her ears reddened even further, the sound of her heart thudding away in his ears. He could feel the warmth radiating from her face, even in the cold air of the cavern. He had won - her face was still tilted away from his, but her body had given her away. The game had ended. He wouldn't pursue her in earnest until she was ready, but he had his confirmation.
"It looks much better," he said simply, pulling her sleeve back up over her shoulder.
Nym's eyes drifted towards Geralt as he covered her up in self-satisfaction. It was true, she had enjoyed the sensation of his hand brushing her skin. She couldn't fake her reaction if she tried. However.. the game wasn't entirely over. She directed her gaze at him, making sure to blink slowly as she did - something she had picked up from the barmaid. Geralt's face was inches away, his eyes locked onto hers, glowing like embers. She shook away her growing internal panic - this was unfamiliar territory, what she did next would matter. There was really only one card left to play. She gently lifted his hand from his lap, tracing one of the deep silvery scars on the back, like she had wanted to earlier.
"...From a harpy, when I wa-" His breath caught in his throat. Nym lifted his hand up to her mouth and grazed it with her lips. She felt like gossamer on his skin, and the scar burned with renewed pain as she brought her lips to it. She looked up at him again under her thick lashes, a serious expression on her face. Was it a trick? He frowned, his eyes continuing to search hers as he tried to calculate his next move. He didn't have to make one. Nym brought his hand to her face again, and placed a single agonizing kiss onto the scar. Why? What now? He hadn't been prepared to act. Did she want more? Hell, he knew he did. He could abandon all hesitation and pull her face towards his...
She lifted her face back up and flashed him a small smile, returning his hand before he had a chance to escalate things. His train of thought halted abruptly. What was this? He cocked his head, watching her closely as she got up and began to spread the sleeping roll onto the floor. What was that for? She yawned and rubbed her eyes, then removed her traveling cloak and settled onto the floor to sleep, the cloak blanketing her as she faced away from him.
The cavern was utterly still, as though nothing had changed between them. Nym brought her knees into her body, and was out in a matter of minutes, entirely spent from the last two days of mental and physical strain. Good, she thought, as she drifted off. This could all end at any moment, so she had chosen to simply act on her wishes. Even if he didn't care for her, she would neither regret it or be punished for it.
Geralt stretched his hand out before him, eyes burning into the spot where she had.. kissed him. The game was well and truly over, and Nym had simply put her cards on the table to end it. He damned himself for underestimating her. He was accustomed to playing cat and mouse with other women, tangling with them periodically and usually at his convenience. This wasn't just any trifle, it was something far more dangerous - honest and unmotivated. He replayed the image. Perhaps it was a thank you, and not an invitation. He had to tread lightly here, Nym would have little experience in these matters either way. Geralt clenched his jaw, and forced his eyes shut again.
Morning light filtered hazily through the cavern entrance. It was another brisk day. Nym pulled the cloak tighter around her chin, trying to cling on to her warmth. She opened one eye, Geralt was standing by Roach, tugging off his clothing with his back facing Nym. Her eyes snapped open. He removed his outer armour, then the white shirt underneath it, standing shirtless in the cavern. Long claw marks and large silver gashes were clearly visible against his skin. She had seen her fair share of well-built men, but the sheer measure of his scars was unsettling. He wasn't a regular human, but even so, how much could one Witcher withstand? He turned to face her, aware that she had woken, nodding at her in greeting. He seemed neither embarrassed nor prideful as her eyes traveled along his scarred chest and torso. He slipped on a new shirt, then fetched some dry oatcakes from his pack, handing one to her as she rose.
Although the wind had stopped howling, Nym was thankful for Geralt's thicker cloak as they led the horses back out into the forest. She was also thankful that they had eaten in silence, and that neither of them had attempted to examine the previous evening. She needed time to decipher her feelings, and ensure that she wasn't just acting this way because he had helped her or been kind. Regardless of that, she had to concentrate now. The path through the mountains was entirely uphill, and the horses began to slow, making their way through the rocky trails. Anyone who followed them would be foolish to attempt the climb without a Witcher to guide them. One misstep meant a fatal fall, or a dead end. Nym looked down at the treetops as the horses made their way up the serpentine mountain pass. There was no going back.