Author's Note: Hi all, I can't lie, it's been a rough week for me personally. Still writing though, no worries! Thank you for your reviews, they mean a lot to me. Please leave one if you have the time. Hope you're all well.
Ward of Kaer Morhen – Chapter 7
Nym peeked past the fringe of rocks and down into the depths of the valley below her. Had they really come that far from the base of the mountain? She patted Beast's neck proudly, the stallion was braving the passes almost as well as Roach. A thick fog had started settling around the valley, and the darkening sky didn't bode well for the weather. It was cold enough as it was, but she hoped that they were nearby.
"Hmm.. It's going to rain." Geralt said, turning to check on her.
She moved her hand back and forth to enquire about the distance. It was already afternoon, and her stomach was beginning to growl again.
"An hour, maybe two. Are you hungry? Or cold?"
Nym was both hungry and cold, but shook her head. He raised one suspicious eyebrow at her, but asked no further questions. Perhaps the rain would hold off until later, although the heavier air he sensed signified otherwise. Nym had done rather well on the trail so far, showing only a little hesitancy in the steep and narrow paths into the Kaer Morhen Valley. It hadn't been easy going, there were many points on the trail where an inexperienced climber might have slipped or been trapped at a dead end. Geralt had carefully pointed out the right places to guide the horses at every step, and waited patiently as Nym felt out the twists and turns into the valley.
They emerged onto a grassy plain, bordered by dense pines. Nym inhaled sharply as the top of a large ruin came into view from behind the treetops. That was it, Kaer Morhen. The Witcher's Keep was slightly dilapidated and shrouded in fog, but its tall battlements and arched gates still stood proud. There was something beautiful about the large damaged structure, nestled into the mountain and surrounded by trees. How many Witchers lived here, exactly? What was the keep's original purpose? Nym held back her questions, she'd find time for them later.
"Expected something quaint?" Geralt asked, noticing her awestruck expression. She grinned and shrugged into her shoulder.
The closer they came to the keep, the more enormous it seemed. Nym could see that entire wings of the structure had caved in. The core of it was more or less solid, and the large wood and iron gates still seemed sturdy enough for defense. A droplet of water hit her square in the forehead. She peered up, hoping it'd be a light drizzle. It wasn't.
The downpour started in earnest as soon as they arrived at the keep grounds. Geralt urged Roach into a canter as they rode down the main path into Kaer Morhen, more for Nym's sake than his. He looked back at her, riding faster now and with her hood up. She was laughing, the madwoman. It wasn't just going to rain, he realized, noticing that the air around the mountain valley was thick with electricity. They finally approached the covered stable, thundering hooves sounding on wet stone. Nym dismounted swiftly and tied Beast to the post.
"Come, we can enter through th-" Geralt pointed, his sentence cut off by Nym bolting in the direction, still laughing silently.
He caught up to her in an instant, and led them both through the complex, into the main entrance and past the large front door that led to the foyer. The space was entirely unlit, and the dim daylight just barely filtered in through the stained glass windows. Nym removed her hood and leaned on the door, breathing hard. Geralt closed the door behind him, running a hand through his drenched hair. He pointed forward into the main portion of the ground floor. As they walked through the expansive foyer, Nym noticed that the inside of the keep wasn't much warmer. Puddles were beginning to form in corners where there were missing stones, and there was a distinct feeling of emptiness in the dark halls.
"Hmm… Maybe Vesemir isn't here," Geralt said quietly, hoping that he was wrong.
The sconces at the entrance weren't lit, and Vesemir would have heard them if he was on the main floor. It was too early in the season for anyone else to be here but if the old Witcher wasn't in residence then it'd be the two of them, alone, until Triss arrived. Geralt led Nym up the winding staircase to the second floor, and exhaled lightly in relief. Some of the sconces were lit - Vesemir was likely in the library. He looked down at Nym and stifled the urge to grin. Her abundant dark hair had turned into a dripping mass on her shoulders and her clothes were plastered to her skin in a rather captivating manner. She was putting on a brave face, even though she was probably frozen to her core.
"I'll get you a towel in a moment." He reassured her, swinging open the creaky library door.
Nym sighed in relief as a wave of warmth flooded out of the room, there was a fire lit in the hearth and a grey-haired man was asleep in the centre of the room, piles of leather bound books scattered around him and one open in his lap.
"Vesemir…" Geralt said, knowing full well that the old Witcher would have heard them outside the door and was choosing to prioritize his nap.
"Hm? Geralt?" Vesemir said, slowly rousing from his slumber to face them.
"Who's this? Why are you both so wet? …Ah, I see." He said, noticing the rain beating on the windows.
"This is.. Nymeia Salskin, you can call her Nym." Geralt said as Nym approached the older man.
Geralt's master reminded her a little bit of her own father, with the same jaw-length hair and surprisingly solid stature. He was wearing a dark shirt and vest, the same wolf pendant hanging around his neck. She bowed awkwardly in front of him, holding up the corners of her wet cloak. Vesemir raised an eyebrow at Geralt.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Nym. You'd both better dry off first... Geralt - see to it that our guest has everything she needs. I'll meet you in the hall afterward." He said, pausing for a moment to search Geralt's face.
"It's good to see you, Wolf." He said, clasping Geralt's shoulder warmly.
Nym moved aside slightly so the pair could greet each other. She felt the coil in the pit of her stomach unwind a little, Geralt seemed to like his mentor judging by the warmth of their greeting. He gestured to the door, Nym bowed again before Vesemir and followed him out of the room.
"You don't have to worry about any formalities here, Nym. Witchers aren't exactly refined…" Geralt said, leading her past the other rooms and up another spiral staircase.
He led her past an ornate screen into a beautiful octagonal bedroom with a covered fireplace in the centre. There were two enormous wood and iron doors on one side of the suite, and beautifully woven rugs and tapestries hung around the spacious room. Large stained glass windows bordered the entire space, and the furnishings were distinctly finer than the ones on the second floor. With one movement of his hand, the fireplace roared to life. He rummaged through a dresser and pulled out a few thick towels, throwing one towards her and using the other to dry his dripping silver hair.
"There's a bath in here if you'd like one." He said, holding the towel across his back.
She nodded and unclipped her cloak, draping it on a chair to dry by the fire, sitting down in another to bask in the heat of it while toweling her face and neck. She looked back over at the large wooden doors.
"A balcony, it looks over the mountains and valley surrounding it." He said.
Nym nodded solemnly. She draped the towel around her shoulders and approached the heavy door, attempting to pull it open - there were no carpets nearby to ruin at least. Geralt approached the other door and tugged it open with ease, just enough so she could see outside. Beyond the balcony was a view of the expansive Kaer Morhen Valley. The downpour and fog blanketed most of the valley, but the stretch of forest and mountains she could see was still breathtaking.
"You might want to-" Geralt said, guiding Nym backwards as a bolt of lightning cracked down into the valley, followed closely by a deafening slap of thunder. The storm wasn't far away. She grinned back at him in reassurance, realizing that he could likely sense the change in the air before lightning hit. She had no apprehensions regarding thunderstorms. Geralt's fingers slipped from her shoulders. She put her weight against the door to close it again, turning to face him. His outline was illuminated by the fire behind him, light catching on his jaw and in his wet hair, he turned before she could meet his eyes.
"Take your time, there should be some spare clothing in the dressers. We'll meet you in the dining hall on the first floor." He said, leaving her alone in the large room.
After Geralt had left, Nym began methodically drawing herself a bath. She slipped into the warm water and scrubbed at her skin, nails and hair. The sore muscles in her legs and hips finally began to unwind after the difficult ride up into the valley. She wondered when her head would stop racing constantly, trying to catch up to the events of the last few days. She was in another home now, another new place. A place where she had brought more trouble, she thought, recalling Vesemir's puzzled expression. The room around her was warm and stately, but what was she doing in it? She had interrupted Geralt's entire life and duty, and was actively leading him down a path she had no business setting out on to begin with. She pictured Lise, Deidre and Tomas' stricken faces, then recalled the feeling of Geralt hastily removing his hands from her shoulders - something was going to go awry there too. She covered her eyes with her hands and succumbed to all the thoughts she'd held in for days, crying silently in the bath.
Geralt emerged from a quick wash, and dried himself off. He slipped into a comfortable pair of trousers and a white linen shirt. Vesemir was waiting for him in the kitchen, stirring a pot of something viscous.
"Hmm.. What's that?" He asked.
"Well, it started out as a sort of broth…" Vesemir said, peering dubiously at his creation.
Geralt shook his head and poured himself some water, taking a seat at the kitchen table opposite the enormous hearth where Vesemir was preparing dinner. The large space for the fire was built directly into a wall so one could see through into the dining hall. It was good to be back in the cavernous, ruined halls of the keep, even if the rest of the Witchers weren't present. There was something comforting about the vacant place, littered with rubble and half fallen beams. It was a wonder that some portion of it hadn't collapsed on them as they slept. There was time yet for that, he mused to himself.
"Well, don't just sit there. Tell me what's happened. Pour us two glasses of that while you're at it," Vesemir gestured to a bottle of brown liquor on the countertop.
Nym surveyed the clothing options before her, realizing that everything else she had was still in her saddlebags. She chose a dark grey mens shirt in the dresser, tucking it into her now washed trousers that had dried by the fire. There was a small looking glass by the basin which she appraised briefly, running her hands through tangled damp hair. She looked different somehow, and her face had begun to freckle in the sun while traveling. Some part of her felt unsteady about going downstairs to be examined by the older Witcher, but it would be rude not to, and her hunger was growing by the minute.
Even as thunder crashed around them in the valley, Geralt had no problem picking out the sound of Nym's soft footsteps as she descended down the stone steps and towards the dining hall. She was wearing one of his shirts he realized, her damp hair cascading down over one shoulder. It didn't escape his notice that she had been crying either.
"Everything alright?" He asked, rising. She nodded and flashed him a small smile. It wasn't, then.
"Be there in a moment!" Came Vesemir's voice from the kitchen.
Through the gaps in the vast hearth, Nym could see him ladling something hot into earthenware bowls. She was absolutely famished. Geralt poured her some water. She sat down at the long wooden table opposite him, immediately regretting her choice of seat. He had cleaned up, and his hair was similarly damp. He was wearing a white shirt, open at the neck to reveal the necklace. His amber eyes scoured her face, there would be no hiding from him it seemed.
Vesemir emerged from the kitchen, thankfully interrupting Geralt's focus on her. He placed three bowls down in front of them gently and pointed his arms out towards them.
"Please, dig in. You must be hungry."
"You've forgotten the spoons." Geralt noted.
"Ah, a moment," Vesemir said, returning to the table with some bread and utensils, then pulling up a chair at the head.
Nym wasted no time, burning her tongue voluntarily. The stew or soup tasted slightly peculiar, but anything would have done. She could pick out rosemary, leek, smoked ham and some sort of pickled vegetable amongst the predominant flavours.
"Hmm.. This isn't the regular bill of fare.. Have you been practicing?" Geralt took appreciative sips, looking up at Vesemir.
"Hmph, it's not often we have company." He turned to face Nym.
Nym smiled appreciatively at him briefly, turning her attention right back to the bowl and dunking a piece of crusty bread into the liquid. The three sat in silence as they ate, Vesemir looking up occasionally at the two of them. Nym finished her bowl and gestured to the kitchen. Vesemir began choking on a piece of bread.
"More? You want more?" He asked incredulously, and between coughs.
"That's a first." Geralt said, his lips twisting into a smile.
After her smaller second helping, Nym leaned back into her chair in satisfaction. She felt warmed from the inside, but it was likely that they'd have to discuss the situation at hand. She silently hoped that Geralt had filled Vesemir in with most of the details and the evening would be left at that. She wasn't sure how long they'd be here, and if it was worth dragging anyone else into her predicament.
"So, Nym…" Vesemir began, resting his spoon. Perhaps the two Witchers hadn't had a chance to speak after all.
"Is the room to your liking? We almost never have guests, they usually fall to their deaths on the Trail…" He said, face breaking into a sly smile after the joke. Geralt shook his head at him.
She gave an internal sigh of relief, then nodded, gesturing to describe the size of the room. It was a little big for just one person.
"Ah. Most of us sleep on the second floor, choose any room you wish. Except not the one by the armory, there's a small family of rats…"
Nym broke into a silent laugh, nodding in thanks. The ramshackle keep wouldn't have been complete without a family of rats.
"Pity we can't keep cats, they don't like us very much," he continued, almost to himself.
"Hmm.. Perhaps rat-hunting dogs." Geralt contributed, an amused expression on his face. Vesemir ignored the comment.
"I digress. Please help yourself to the library and kitchen. I would recommend not entering the lowest floor without supervision, however.."
"The laboratory," explained Geralt.
"Something will no doubt explode and cause severe burns, or emit a foul odor…" continued the old Witcher.
She thought she saw Geralt's eyes roll from her peripherals. She nodded again, feeling immensely lightened by their banter.
"I will also warn you that Geralt is incapable of making breakfast, and so it may be up to you to feed yourself in the morning." He added, casting a disapproving look at his mentee.
"I resent that," Geralt said simply.
"You resented that omelette you made two winters ago. Never even tried again." Replied Vesemir, his brows raised.
Geralt chuckled in his low, gravelly way. He looked at Nym and raised his hands.
"There will be no breakfast." He concluded.
Nym bowed her head in acceptance of the fact.
"Well, I'll be in the library if the two of you need me. Geralt, you can give our guest a tour of the keep, I assume?" Said Vesemir, rising to clear up the bowls.
"Mhmm," replied Geralt, arms still crossed.
"We'll talk tomorrow then, sleep well." The old Witcher said, leaving them to retire for the evening.
The pair wandered back up the stairs to the second floor, Geralt pointing out the stairs down to the lab on their way up. The library was well stocked, but the armory was of special interest to her. Various weapons and devices hung on the walls alongside suits of heavier armour and practice dummies. There was some space for sparring along the borders of the large room, as well as trunks for storing bolts and arrows. Geralt stopped by the bedrooms, opening a door that contained two single beds
"Feel free to sleep in here, if you wish. Most of the rooms have multiple beds."
He moved onto the next room over, opening it to reveal a similar setup.
"I'll be in here. We'll leave the third floor as is in case you change your mind."
She nodded in thanks. The room he showed her was small and smelled a little bit like mildew, but it suited her needs perfectly. She pointed downwards at the stained glass window nearest to them, the rain had lessened significantly in the last hour.
"Downstairs? The courtyard?" He asked, she shook her head and took up a pair of faux reins.
"Hmm, you'd like to see to the horses?" She nodded.
Beast was likely hungry too, and might like some attention. Geralt passed her a dry cloak as they exited the keep, pails of groats and water in hand as they walked into the light drizzle. The horses nickered as they arrived at the stable. Nym pulled the saddlebags off Beast, stroking his nose. He had done well over the last week, experiencing as many new things as she had. Geralt had lit the large sconces around the covered stable to create some warmth for the still-damp horses. Once it had warmed, they guided them into stalls and left them to the rest of the feed and water. Nym patted Beast's side as she went, placing a quick kiss on his broad neck.
Geralt turned away, closing the gate on Roach's stall. The grateful kiss she had just bestowed upon her horse brought back a vivid picture of her from the previous evening. She turned towards him, leaning on a post in fatigue. That night at the Aird home where she'd created and broken the tension between them in glee.. Had it been born of innocence and not anything more? Had he blundered into his current feelings and ignored all the other signs? Looking at her now, her eyes, her new freckles, her thick mantle of hair - it was easy to see why he had gotten ahead of himself. She held his gaze patiently, clearly aware of his scrutiny. Did she have the experience to know where this path led with them if he pursued it in earnest? The question burned in his mind, lingering in his thoughts due to the potential of an invisible third party.
"Growing up without your mother… Did you have to endure the presence of men, mostly?" He asked, beginning in a simple manner. She nodded, shrugging her shoulders.
"Who else did you spend time with? Any other children?"
She gestured - a little bit. Those other children were often sons who visited with their fathers for meetings. or friends of her brothers. She couldn't recount a time where she'd ever been around a group of women for long, or had a female friend. Girls didn't visit their home when she was a child, and women only visited for the evening as she grew older.
"Friends of your brothers, and not your own then?" He asked, aware that he was stepping into slightly awkward territory.
It wasn't necessarily polite to dig around her life like this, but the question still stung him, influencing his line of questioning. She nodded, smiling thinly.
"Did you become.. close with any of them?" He asked, his voice a little gruff.
She considered this for a moment, no, not by her own choosing. She wasn't allowed to join in with the rowdy group of boys as a girl, and even less so as she grew older. She shook her head.
"No companions whatsoever?" He asked, his amber eyes shuttered.
She didn't answer immediately. Was he asking her if she'd ever taken a lover? She shook her head again, raising an eyebrow. 'They tried,' she mouthed simply.
Geralt felt as though a cold bucket of water had been emptied on his head. They tried. Who had tried what? Why had he brought this up to begin with? Out of some inane need to confirm that she wasn't playing dumb? He gritted his teeth.
"I apologize, I didn't mean to pry." He replied, clenching his fists.
She shook her head and placed a hand on his arm. The few times she'd been caught off guard by one of their friends, her brothers had always stepped in. It didn't stop some of the men from trying, leading to her being sequestered alone more frequently. Geralt looked at his arm, searing with heat until she removed her hand. She smiled reassuringly at him. It didn't do much to placate the anger that was beginning to seethe in him. Nym seemed to have moved past those memories, but it didn't stop him from wanting to inflict his wrath upon her past and the people in it if she ever gave the word. Nym raised her hand to her mouth, yawning soundlessly and interrupting his train of thought. He gestured back to the Keep, it was time that they both had a good long rest.
Geralt could hear her settling in for the night in the adjacent room. The whoosh of her cloak as she dropped it to the floor, the clinking of her belt as she removed her trousers. The bed creaked slightly as she laid down and brought the covers up, probably tucking her knees into her chest in the way she normally slept. He turned in his bed to stare at the ceiling. Was he to feel sorry for her, powerless and soundless as she had been her entire life? No, not for Nym. She had done her best, and it would be a disservice to be pitied by him or anyone else. He closed his eyes and fell asleep to the sound of her.