Shani paced back and forth, nibbled at her fingertips lightly and cursing Iorveth to the sky. She hadn't seen the elf all day, it was past midnight now and Iorveth had still yet to return. Shani felt all the reason in the world to be worried, considering the dangers one could possibly face out there. Monsters, bandits and most of all the knights of the Flaming Rose. What angered her most was that he had left without a word, which of course would make her worry, as he had to have realized.
She would have thought that he had left for good if it wasn't for some of his things still laying under his cot and his promise to her that he'd tell her if he actually did decide to depart for the horizon.
The redhead shook her head and sighed, caring for someone is not always a blessing.
When she had a bad feeling there tended to be a kernel of truth to it and being friends meant to look out for each other, "Right?" she asked herself aloud.
It only took her a moment to think of the first person who could help her finding out what happened to the oafish elf. Abigail, of course.
The disturbance would not please her but Melitele, there was no other way.
While she practically flew over the streets with no regards for the odd looks she was getting, Shani contemplated the last days, trying to find hints in what the elf had said and done.
Not long after she remembered the conversation they had just last night, she had unloaded all her issues on him, told him of how the supply shortages were killing her, the decoction supplies in particular. She paused to think about that... there was no way he actually... could he have? No it was too risky, there's no way he could have actually gone after the herbs, especially not for one such as her... right?
They had grown close in the past week or so though, at least she had grown close to him. She felt fairly certain that he wouldn't have listened to her pour her heart out to him over it all, nearly as graciously as he had. If he cared at least a little for her in turn so perhaps he had gone for the herbs. If he had then he would have gone to Abigail for some sort elixir to help him combat the spores of the mushrooms.
Happy to have a lead now, she quickened her pace and as a result was entirely out of breath when she finally reached the door to their hut.
Fingering in her pouches and pockets for the key she let out a relieved sigh when she finally found it after what felt like minutes.
Opening the creaking door slowly she peeked her red head in and looked around carefully, hoping that Abby was here and not out on some secretive witchy business.
But there she was, tucked into her bed and something in a kettle over the hearth and Shani really didn't wanted to know. Well actually she did, but it was unlikely to coax out anything coherent from the witch in these regards. Even less so when she just woke up.
Closing the door behind her, Shani stepped in and did not bother to be too quiet about it. After all she did not want Abigail thinking she was a thief and use some of her magic on her. Or the kitchen knife which she knew she kept under her pillow, or the fine garroting wire she had sewn into the seam of her apron.
The woman stirred immediately and glared at Shani from behind wild auburn curls. "Is there any way you can be louder?" She hissed quietly and shifted into a sitting position.
"What are you making all the noise for?" Shani shrugged and stood close to the bed, her arms crossed over her chest. "Well, to wake you up without having to touch you. I also did not want you thinking me to be a petty thief."
Abigail rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I would have known if you were an intruder, silly girl. Now what do you want?" Her knowing gaze made the medic sigh and she looked at her feet before speaking up. "Iorveth has yet to come back, and I fear that something has happened to him. I hoped you might know where he went?"
Shani looked up with hopeful green eyes and the witch sighed. Hadn't she warned him?
"He came here early in the morning and asked me about the herbs and plants growing in the area. He had been especially keen on finding out if the needed components for White Raffard's Decoction are growing here. I told him of a place not too far away, and warned him. He took off right after that."
Shani pursed her lips and fiddled with the end of her belt. "But... how?" She asked furrowing her brow, "The grove with the necessary ingredients is full of toxic spores, its the only reason I never ventured there myself!" she sounded so so worried and Abigail chuckled. "His kind does have a natural immunity to the spores... or at least a resistance at any rate. Instead of clogging his lungs like it would with you and me, it produces a more... psychedelic effect. I can imagine he probably passed out chasing flying bunnies, or something of the like." She giggled at the thought, but then frowned as a thought struck her, "Someone should probably go and check up on him though, I imagine. The spores are strong, and it could be that he's too lost to the will of the fungi and is unable to get away."
She was definitely more serious now and got up to rummage in her shelves and crates. "But how? As you said the spores are toxic to us, and I don't think we have enough favor with any other elves to ask them for aid in this matter."
Abigail nodded "True, but luckily I came up with a potion that should help... Ah! There we go!" She made a satisfied sound and when she turned to face Shani there was a small green vial in her hand.
"What I have here is a potent solution, that should enable you to withstand the toxic effects. However, it won't last too long and you should try to get as less as possible into your system. Drink it now, and keep a few drops for when you reach the grove. Wet a cloth with it and cover your mouth and nose with it, it'll help."
The medic took a deep breath and reluctantly took the vial from her friend. She really wasn't keen on going to that place, but the elf had saved them too after all and now it was his time to be saved. From a less dramatic fate surely, but dangerous nonetheless.
"Thanks, Ab. Fill me in on how to get there?" She asked and gulped down the bitter essence in the vial, carefully making sure to leave a little for later. It made her stomach churn but she ignored the feeling and keenly listened to the directions Abigail gave her. After all she did not want to get lost and find herself close to a Nekker nest.
Heaving a heavy sigh and stifling a yawn she took her cloak from a chair and stuffed some bread, cheese and two apples into her satchel before fastening the cloak around her shoulders. It has just rained and the air was pleasantly chilly, a relief from the brooding heat they had had for weeks now.
"Now go and save the maiden in distress." Abigail grinned and ushered a reluctant Shani out of the door.
The redhead sighed, wrapped her light cloak tighter around her petite body and made for the city gates.
4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42
Iorveth could not tell what time it was, what day or what year even. He had been trapped in a vicious loop of past events and long forgotten faults. Well, things he had believed forgotten but his subconsciousness now dredged up to torture his drugged mind with the worst images it could muster. He wasn't really asleep, it was an uncomfortable state in between, like floating over the edge of existence but being tied to a rock, anchoring him near reality. It made him ache all over and he did not knew if it was just mental pain or if he really was torn apart.
With a heavy gasp he found himself back on the mossy ground of the grove, the air was less polluted with spores now and he could feel why. Iorveth was soaking wet and so was the ground beneath him. He began to shiver, realizing that it must have rained.
He rolled over with a groan and splashed some of the water of a nearby puddle into his face. He winced when some of the cold liquid found its way into his empty eye socket, but he definitely felt a lot sharper now, though he was still rather hazy on the details of reality, his thoughts slow and muddy. Slowly he got on his knees first before pushing his body up to stand. His bones ached, the joints especially and Iorveth cursed softly, his back resting against the thick trunk of an old oak.
The elf had just caught his breath when something poked into his shoulder and he almost yelped, his drugged mind not taking too kindly on surprises like that. A fight would be a bad thing right now.
He turned and for him it felt like a swift turn, to a spectator it would look sluggish though, almost like the antics of a drunkard.
What he found there was a... shocking sight to say the least. The bark twisted and rippled, convulsed practically and a pitiful groan escaped the tree in a voice he was quite familiar with. He'd dare say it sounded like his very own but there was just something weird about it.
"Well, most likely because a tree is trying to speak to you in ways he's not supposed to." He mumbled and flinched at the sight of the face now fleshed out in the bark. It looked horrendous, vicious and disgusting and... Yes, that was his face. Iorveth of the Scoia'tael, looking at him with unseeing wooden eyes.
It did not move much, safe for a chafing, slow blink every now and then and Iorveth found himself unable to look away, to turn his eye down and out of the spell for even a second.
Driven by some sort of morbid curiosity he reached out slowly and saw his own shaking.
He did not feel the tremor, mind too high and in utter dissonance with his body, but it shook. Fear, most likely. Maybe exhaustion.
Whatever it was it did not phase the elf on a mission and he just knew that he would not rest until he had touched, well, himself.
The final contact with his wooden self was unspectacular to say the least. Oak-Iorveth just looked at him with another lazy blink and seemed to yawn, only that it not stop with a simple yawn. The oaken maw stretched beyond everything comprehensible and Iorveth trying to yank his hand away, but found that he could no move it an inch, no matter how hard he tugged.
Helplessly he watched in horror as the tree was about to swallow him up and he couldn't help but think about what this should tell him. Swallowed up by his ignorance and primitive hate maybe? Formidable as both attributes were, far more so than his patience and good sense. At least that would be something his grandmother could agree to.
The spook stopped when he heard someone calling his name from behind him. He turned but could not quite make out the figure yet, approaching him through the mist.
Turning back he found that the old oak was standing there as still and silent and un-threatening as ever and most important of all his face had disappeared from the gnarly surface.
Iorveth wiped cold sweat from his brow and saw that his hands were still shaking, now more then ever. An uncomfortable knot has formed in his throat and he found it increasingly difficult to breathe when he squinted his eye at the black dressed figure.
To his dismay he discovered it was none other than Laolin approaching him, red hair loose around his slim shoulders and his arms wide in a warm welcome. The elf was smiling, his gray eyes warm with the fire of friendship. It disgusted him, but it wasn't as bad as what he's been through just seconds ago.
He found himself backing away slowly as Laolin approached and the other elf's smile faltered at Iorveths reluctance. "Iorveth, brother?" He called out and then clutched right above his heart, his face twisted in agony.
Iorveth remembered, it was where he had plunged his blade into the body of his former ally, his friend, his brother. Someone who had turned to darkness, and such darkness had to be rooted out. It had hurt him to do it, more than he wanted to admit even to himself. To see Laolin pierced by his own blade, all the way through his ribcage. The betrayal in his broken blue eyes and the pain. Iorveth could not just push the body off his blade.
Instead he had him slide down the steel slowly and caught him in his arms, feeling so furious at himself, at the decay of his people. Illness of the mind festering and roaming freely, wrecking and destroying.
He saw it all again now in those glazed eyes. By now Laolin had taken his hand away and the dark cloth of his tunic was pitch black where it was soaked in his sanguine essence, a patch of pale flesh visible underneath the tear that his blade has made in the article of clothing.
"Laolin.." Iorveth said, his voice hard with disdain, yet faltering in the end.
"Ahh Iorveth. Still slaughtering your very own people like a Dh'oine would? You're weak, old man!" The elf laughed then, and with the convulsions of his chest more blood was coming, a steady trail now.
"You're the one who was weak in the end, brother." Iorveth spat, "you gave your true self away to that beast, I did as well, and perhaps I was the one who led you down that path. But I never stooped as low as to-" He was cut off abruptly from his tirade however, as the trail of blood oozing from Liaolin's chest had transformed into furious spurts that traveled far, even splashing onto Iorveth's own clothes, and Laolin began cackling madly, and as he did the spurts turned into an absolute geyser, pummeling Iorveth as viciously as the alghoul had a few weeks back.
The fountain of crimson splashed over his coat and into his face, coating him in his former friend's red and warm life essence and he sputtered, turning his face away to avoid getting any more into his mouth or eye.
A sharp gasp and a soft shushing sound caught his attention though and made him look up. Laolin had staggered back, his bloodshot eyes fixed on him, but it wasn't him he was looking at.
A few feet back stood a thin little girl with dirty blonde hair and torn clothes, clutching to the short jacket of a taller woman with much the same features but boyishly short hair.
Iorveth knew immediately who they were. Ves. Both of them Ves, Blue Stripes Ves and the poor peasant girl, Ves had once been. That Laolin has taken to sate his more base appetites. With the flippant words that she was just a useless human whore after all.
It made his stomach churn, the indifferent ease with which his fellow elf has said it had been just plain disgusting.
It had pained Iorveth to see just how deep his kind has sunk. In all reality they were no better than Dh'oinne and that just left an awfully bitter taste in his mouth. When he looked up again he was met by a baleful stare from the silent Ves who held her little self close, both figures tense with memory, hate and fear.
"What, has the sight of weeping wenches make the feared Iorveth go weak? What is that you do exactly? Helping a human woman, in a city crammed shut with their kind and their stink! You hide there, while your brethren die out in the woods. For our cause!" Laolin spat, his breath rattling. "You let them mislead you, eat out of their palm and had them tame you." His voice was weak now, face twisted before it went ashen and pale.
A rustle made the painfully conflicted Iorveth look up and he rather felt than he saw what came for him. The patch of bark where his face had been sitting on the oak was gone now and a figure pried itself from the ancient tree. It's torso was knotted wood, torn red, brown and green cloth covering it. The creatures eyes burned, literally burned with the passion of vengeance and insatiable hate.
It was a legend, a creature born out of the collective emotions of his people. A creature he had well embodied back in the woods of ole Flotsam. A path he had strayed from lately, he knew that.
The creature did not speak, but it did not need to. The elf understood, understood so bitterly well. He was at a crossroad now, and for once he didn't know which path to take.
Iorveth had always been one for extremes. There was no 'a little bit of this, a little bit of that'. It was all or nothing, this or that and had always been. It had given him strength and confidence and had made him relentless.
But maybe, just maybe it wasn't the best thing to do now. He needed help, something he usually refrained from requesting if it wasn't absolutely necessary.
And it seemed that help answered his silent plea now, for behind him a figure stepped out. A rather small and stocky figure, but obviously a female. She raised her hand and stopped the advancing figment of his troubled mind with the simple gesture, and they gazed up at her with frightened eyes.
Turning she smiled down at him, it was tight lipped and there was something fierce yet sad in her eyes and Iorveth was sure he had never been that happy to have her in his head. His Seanmháthair, Granuaile Aep Shiadhal.
"I've warned you of your own ruin, boy. I told you of where this rage would take you, but did you listen!?" She sighed, "Well, at least you've started opening that blasted eye of yours and began to see. You begin to realize that there is no chance of evolving, and surviving the times if one does not become aware of their own decay and mistakes." She glowered at the menacing fragments of his mind, not sparing her ire for anything, and the figures had no chance but to look away from her fiery gaze.
"We are changing, with the world around us. Slowly that is true, but mankind forces us to adapt to their fast lifestyle. And we willingly let us be dragged down into the spiral of hate and brutality." She turned back to Iorveth himself, a forlorn look in her odd gold gaze, sprinkled with green.
"We are falling, Iorveth. Everyone is falling. Some faster than others though. But real strength proves in rising above such things. Not seeking retaliation for it is a fleeting pleasure. Your heart is that of a fighter, filled with restless passion. And fight you will, for our people, but most of all for the people who need it. Just like you did in those past weeks. Yet, do not commit your heart to something that deprives you of your passion. There are many paths you can walk at the same time, granson. You don't need to settle on just one. But you've realized that already, haven't you."
Her smile was much warmer now and Iorveth pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets to work against the pressure in his head. He felt as though going crazy and this time he does not feel as enthusiastic about it.
A fierce conflict in his heart and mind, he could really do without. Before meeting Shani he has not concerned himself with thinking of the victims of his devastating actions, after all did they? Did they think of the Aen Seidhe they killed? The young women that they slayed, which had been a source of hope for his kind.
But now? Now he couldn't forget. Could not forget the gruesome stories victims told him, their feverish eyes lost in the terror of memories.
They told him stories of the knights of the Flaming Rose that made him sneer and stories of the Scoia'tael that twisted his heart in shame and distress. He knew that sacrifices had to be made and he kept his calm when it was about houses burned down, of farmers cut down. It did nothing to touch his hardened heart.
Though there were other stories as well. Rape, horrific torture and madness he did not even want to think about now. Babes ripped from their mothers and...
The elf almost failed to hold in the bile that crept up his throat. A warm hand rested on his shoulder and he was grateful for it. It grounded him and Iorveth reached out for it, covered it with his own.
"The times are mad, Iorveth. Do not get dragged down into the pit of insanity." Granuaile said and kissed his feverish forehead. He felt himself closing his eyes, the troubles weighting down his heart feeling so much lighter all of a sudden...
4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42
Shani knew she was in the right area when she spotted Iorveth battered old mare which calmly grazed in front of a soft hill. She bickered and eyed the red head with intelligent eyes when she slipped off her own horse and walked over to the animal.
It was late into the morning already and she yawned heartily, hoping that the elf was alright. He had probably been under the influence of the damned spores for so long now that Shani genuinely feared that his mind could have taken damage.
Stroking the grey mares muscled neck she looked up the hill and sighed a little anxiously. After all humans were known to die a rather painful death in long long minutes under the influence of these damned mushrooms. And she really had no death wish.
Rummaging in her satchel she fished out the phial Abigail had given her and gave the thing a long suffering stare. Staring at it did not solve the problems at hand of course so Shani told herself to finally stop thinking and covered the cloth she had brought in the clear substance.
Tying it around the lower half of her face she took one last deep breath and climbed up the hill to save the damn elf.
It did not take her long to reach the top of it and she stared down into the beautiful cove, happy to discover that there were not as many of the deadly spores as anticipated, thanks to the heavy summer rain.
She found that once she came into contact with the spores their deathly effects reacted rather strongly with the antidote in her veins and heightened her senses vividly. Walking on the soft ground became an explosion of a variety of sensations, she was sure she could feel the thick grass under her thin shoe soles, every little stone and bulge in the uneven ground.
The air around her seemed to be aglow with vibrancy, colors a thick and saturated, blurred delight. Wonderland, it had to be, of that Shani was sure. The sights, smells and sounds made the young woman giddy and excitement rose in her youthful chest and pressed against her ribcage, eager to be let out.
Spotting, or rather hearing the elf was no problem as well, he was laying in the moss beneath a thick oak and looked more dead than alive, his skin pale and glistening with little pearls she recognized as sweat after an embarrassingly long pause. Tightly he clung to his pack, uncaring of the spilled mushrooms around him and rocked for -and backwards slowly, apparently murmuring something. Only as she came closer she recognized it as a chant of breathy and loving 'thank you's'.
The medic gasped softly and had to suppress a giggle at the sight. Though she scolded herself since she really should be concerned about the elf's state of mind and climbed down as fast as she could without tripping which was not that easy, given the slippery ground and her unstable state of mind which made her limbs feel like mush.
She was breathing heavily when she finally had made it down, the extremely toxic hallucinogens in the air slowly making her head spin.
Sinking down on her knees next to the elf who was apparently oblivious to his surroundings she reached out cautiously, felt for his pulse and checked his breathing. Iorveth's skin was hot and his pulse fast, but he seemed alright apart from his obvious hallucinations and Shani felt relief sinking in.
Though that feeling stopped fast when she remembered the state the elf was probably in. He might snap back into reality and be nothing but a raving lunatic, lost to his fantasies and drug induced world. "Hey idiot, wake up. Come on!" She said, insistent but in a gentle voice for she did not want to startle him.
The medic was unsure what to expect, but for now he would not open his eyes or stop talking to his stupid pack.
For more than five minutes she tried all she could think of. Stroke his face, encourage him, squeeze his arms and hands, poke his nose and even his ears and finally she gave up with an exasperated huff and slapped him right across the face.
The man next to her gasped for air like a drowning seaman wih his eyes finally snapping open and focusing. He jerked up suddenly and Shani had to let herself fall back if she did not want the get headbutted by the frantic elf or get his flailing limbs into her face.
Iorveth was fast on all fours and already trying to get up to his feet when she spoke up. "Calm down! It's me.. it's Shani?" She said softly and cautiously reached out.
"Shani...?" He whispered and she heard how raw his throat probably was. "Yes, Shani. Don't worry, I'm here. I'll take you back with me, alright?" The redhead tried to make her voice sound as calm and soft and possible and tried to make eye contact with him.
"No! I... Are you really here? It's been.. I don't even know where to start.." He swayed dangerously and she rushed to his side, her hands on his arms to support him. She had never seen Iorveth so distraught.
He was always full of calm energy and his mind always appeared to be sharp and rested. The sight startled her if she was honest with herself. "Yes, I'm really here. You stupid elf! I came to search for you when you had not returned until midnight. I was worried that something could have happened to you. The Flaming Rose, Nilfgaard... Monsters. There are so many possibilities! I asked Abigail and she could tell me where to find you... I mean, are you out of your mind?! You could have killed yourself!"
The elf shook his head, it was clear that he was not quite here yet. "Monsters? But they are here.. right here." He drawled and touched his chest. The man did nothing to make holding him up easier and instead leaned on Shani like she was a reliable anchor. Intelligently she said nothing, realizing that talking to Iorveth now would only lead to more confusion.
Shani tugged on his arm to get him to move and bend down to pick up his pack. Letting the precious mushrooms go to waste wouldn't do after all. Groaning under the doubled weight she dragged him on, unaware of his long stare at her backside and his incoherent mumur about angels.
The slightly green sunrays that filtered through the thick leafy canopy gave her face something mysterious and made her almost ethereal looking. He had admitted to himself long ago that he found the medic truly attractive, but now he felt real, raw want in him and silently cursed the effect of the fucking drugs that probably did nothing to help him restrain himself.
His stare though made her nervous, it was as if a priest had finally seen Melitele herself in his dreams. She had to constantly remind herself that he was heavily drugged and that she knew nothing of the damage his mind has taken yet.
Though the medic had to admit that his body felt good under hands. Dangerously good. She had always appreciated his lithe, muscular build but never really got an excuse to touch him, until now. Feeling quite hazy herself she pursed her lips and let her hands roam over his bare arm and his back. His muscles were hard and she loved the way they shifted under incredibly, amazingly soft skin when he moved. It felt like the finest velvet stretched over unforgiving steel. An unusual sensation to be sure, but strangely delicious in its way. Certainly very different from Geralt whose rough skin was littered with hard and rugged scars, it was difficult to find a patch of unmarred skin on the Wolf.
Sneakily feeling his body certainly helped her to endure the way up the soft hill which took way longer than expected. Iorveth stumbled often and groaned happily, his feet only moving sluggishly and insecure on the uneven ground. The woman had to more or less drag him up all the way and when she finally reached the top she felt so exhausted that she could drop down and sleep right here and now.
Apparently the elf had the same idea for he growled lowly and the next thing Shani felt was a dead weight falling into her back which made the both of them tumble down the hill and land in the soft grass, with the elf laying on top of her.
She groaned exasperated and a little desperate as she tried to push the elf off her, but to no avail. He was a fucking dead weight on her, now that he seemed to have relaxed what felt like all of his muscles. Asleep. Damn elf was asleep.
After a while she gave up and let her head fall back with a long suffering sigh. The two horses were right in her field of view and the way they curiously looked at the two of them while chewing their grass as if nothing was amiss irked her even more. "Come on you lazy beasts, you could help! Do something!" Shani groaned, but as expected both mares did not move an inch and instead continued to graze relaxedly, leaving the woman to her own devices.
A screech escaped her lips when Iorveth hugged her tighter, and both of his hands settled on her bottom and it did not look like he would let go any time soon. Mortification tinted Shani's cheeks red and she pushed futilely at his head and hands. "Idiot..." She whispered and went pliant under him. Might as well get used to it when there was nothing she could do anyways.
His soft humming helped her relax somewhat and she found her eyes being drawn to his ears, idly wondering what they would feel like if thoroughly examined with her hands. It's then that she heard him murmur something which suspiciously sounded like "bountiful peaches."
Authors Note
AlexanderRavana: Here you go after what felt like an endless wait, no? I do have to apologize for making all you precious readers wait. I have not been feeling well and rather wanted to wait than prestenting you with words that would have been a disappoinment to read.
Also!
Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews and the favos! Those really to help to get over writers block and other things. Always makes me glad to see how much you enjoy our work. You can definitely look forward to a M! rated treat in the next chapter ;)