Roach flicked her tail as she kept her eyes on the two two-legged while White-Hair went to fight a beast, her noisy-foal singing not far from her, his voice shaky in a way that made her stomp a hoof. The song he sang, she knew the words clearly, sung in her language and his. It was about White-Hair and smells-like-flower-poison a warning if she ever did hear one and a confession.
A confession her stupid White-Hair completely misses.
A slight groan left her at the thought of how oblivious her White-Hair is that his life-mate is trying to woo him and misses all the signs.
"Which one do you prefer?" Noisy-Foal asked, music stilling. "Lovely? Gorgeous?"
"Neither, because smells-like-flower-poison is neither." Roach snorted while whipping her head around to glare at the two-legged's that were daring to come near her. She could hear them whispering to one another, claiming her white-hair was dead but she knew…
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Her foal stated from his spot, hands still playing softly with the music as he stood. "The last person to try that lost his fingers and his balls. Let go."
Roach wasn't worried, but her eyes snapped to the figures coming towards them, the scent of brimstone and metals, blood. Dragon. She shifted, moving closer to her foal as they reached their little spot.
"Perhaps you did not hear the man," Borch stated, eyes flickering over the human with wonder while he gestured Téa and Véa to move forward. "Do as the bard asks or I'll be forced to draw my weapons."
"Weapons? I see no steel 'ere." The butcher spits as he marches forward, hands grasping Borch's lapels before Téa reacts, kicking the man down and snapping his neck.
A ripple of magic has Borch turning his eyes towards the Bard and the horse, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly and widening as he took a proper look at the human. He reeked of magic, old magic. In all his long years never has Villentretenmerth seen such a sight, nor one on a human before.
Blessed by a Unicorn, a Tulpas, a Pegasus… there were more… he could see the feathers of the bird's whisp around him like a charm, scales of a viper, the shining luck of a maneki-neko, burning whisp of a hellhound, there were more, mythical and animals alike.
Villentretenmerth thought he had seen it all and yet here it was, such a new thing, such a beautiful thing. What had this human done to earn such blessings?
"Geralt, they... With the...This woman just killed a man with her bare hands for trying to steal your horse." The human stated shocked, eyes wide and innocent, pure.
"Maybe she'll make a better travel companion then."
Borch turned his head back towards the Witcher he was hunting as his words drifted through the air. He could not stand to see the pain that they caused, not in a being so blessed and pure, does the Witcher not know of the treasure he has close? Does he not value the magic the boy holds?
He could see many branches of what will be and could be expanded before him and in the middle of it all was the Bard… oh… He understood many things now as he began to introduce himself, his voice working on a different thought as he kept his mind's eye on the bard.
Villentretenmerth has heard the songs and has felt the ripple of magic in the air with each verse but it was an after-effect, so passive in its use. He wasn't impressed when he first felt it used against him and his but now meeting the boy, a thought struck… he did not know he was blessed.
"You cannot have him! He's mine!" Roach screams at the dragon as they begin their way back into town, ignoring the pull on her bit as her White-Hair tries to correct her, but no, she will not let this dragon steal her foal.
She has not missed the glances towards him, the desire rippling through the air.
'Interesting.' The voice was deep like his two-legged but rang with crackling fire in her mind. 'That answers many questions but supplies more. Tell me Unicorn, what did the human do to earn the heart of you?'
"Years of kindness to my White-Hair, he learned to heal, to care for me. They're Life-Mates but can't see it because White-Hair is an idiot… he understood me long before I blessed him." Roach replied calmer, moving to hide her foal from the dragon's view.
A loud caw broke their reverie, causing the group to stop and look up into the sky. Hands went to their weapons, but Jaskier lit up like the sun as he rushed forwards, arm up and waiting. Villentretenmerth watched with wonder as a small falcon came to rest on his arm, brushing its head across the deep red scaled pattern with a chitter.
"I take it this is one of you…?" Borch started but stopped as the Witcher shook his head.
"I do not understand how he does it," Geralt muttered with a sigh. "He left one winter and half a season, only to find me again with a teen falcon on his arm. He saved its mother from poachers; the mate is another Witcher's falcon…. It is all I know, if you want to know fully, he will be glad to tell you."
"They're named Rider-of-Currents," Roach supplied her eye rolling back to look at the Dragon, smug. "My Foal named it all on his own, in the sky-language."
Villentretenmerth raised his brows impressed and hummed, it seems this quest will be even more interesting.
J
The next morning Roach was displeased, huffing and snorting as she refused to allow her White-Hair to ride her. She could smell the wretched smells-like-flower-poison in the air, around him. Not only that she could see the sadness on her foal's face.
She could see through his façade, behind those weird two-legged smiles and she was displeased. Even more so when they were told by the dragon that the path was too narrow for horses and she had to stay behind, had to leave her foal all alone and watch his Life-Mate run off with smells-like-flower-poison.
"How is it that I've walked this earth for decades without coming across a Witcher, and then the first one I meet, I can't get rid of?" The voice was sickly sweet, and Roach snapped her head around to glare at smells-like-flower-poison as she approached.
"Stay away." She snorted her warning but then again no one of her kind heeded the warnings or even heard them.
She could see her Foal's face twist. "I'd say something strange was afoot, but then again, witchers are bound to bump into monsters eventually."
Oh, how proud I am of you my sweet foal, so sharp your words are… Roach whickered and bumped her nose against her Foals chest. She ignored her White-Hair as he spoke with the wretched creature and shifted closer to her Foal with a worried whine.
"I'll be okay girl, don't you worry." Her foal whispered into her main, fingers picking out little leaves and twisting it into a braid.
"I don't like it. At least Rider-of-Currents will watch over you and that blasted dragon." Roach huffed turning her head to nibble at his own mane affectionately, one eye locking on said Dragon who tipped his head in understanding. "I thought you were against this."
"I have no say in what he does, you know this, not when it comes to her." The words were soft and bitter on the tongue, and it just made Roach all the angrier at her Witcher. "We'll be back soon Roach, before you know it!"
"JASKIER!" White-Haired ordered from the front earning a sigh from her foal.
She watched them leave with a growing pit of dread in her stomach, there was a storm on the horizon that herald bad omens and Roach only hoped they both made it back together.
J
The walk was a long one and Jaskier couldn't help but feel forlorn. Left alone to wander behind Geralt again like a lost pup, his mouth running embarrassingly so towards Téa and Véa as they marched beside him which he found odd.
Rider-of-Currents flew through the air, their eyes locked for any sign of danger towards their sibling or the dragon that they hunted. The urge to release what they ate not long ago on the two-legged Roach called smells-like-flower-poisons head was growing steadily with each barb she uttered to White-Hair about their two-legged sibling.
Perhaps after this Rider-of-Currents can seek out their sire and discuss it in length, gather advice for what they could do the next time the purple-eyed-demon came within close distance of Eyas.
'HungryDangerFleeHungryPlease…' the words echoed through the air in little vibrations catching Eyas's unusual ears, drawing him closer to where the words were uttered. A screech left Rider-of-Currents as they landed on the tree branch, watching, waiting to see what would happen. Eyas was kind to all creatures that weren't monsters and Rider-of-Currents has come across this particular creature before, harmless if fed.
Yet, Eyas fled as it stood begging for food, his own face twisting in horror and sorrow as the two-legged wrapped in shiny things slayed it.
'PAIN!PAIN!ONLYFOOD!ST…'
"Come young one, you don't need to see such idiotic brutality," Borch stated as he turned and grabbed the Bard's arm, leading him up the path further where he could see a clearing. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as he wiped away a tear, his other hand rubbing at his ears.
He can understand us but cannot connect what is being said as spoken… thinks he hears things like dreaming… The unicorn had told him on their way back to the village, it was interesting then as it was now, but Borch felt a pang. He did not know what was screamed by the creature, but something told him that the Bard could.
As the day grew late Borch couldn't help but become displeased at the way the young one was being dismissed and treated. He could see the Djinn's magic swirl around the Witcher and the Sorceress like a vile thing and that could only explain so much. Life-Mates the unicorn said, and Borch could see it, the Witcher would too if he wasn't so twisted with the witch.
The Bards spirits grew low, the flame that was behind those eyes flickered till it was a dying ember and something within the dragon wept at the loss, at the pain that reflected so very much like his own in eyes so young.
'We shall make camp here.' He thought towards his two hands, smiling softly as they set up camp and directed the young one to sit. Ire ignited as the bard uttered not a word, just nodded, and cast a look back to where the Witch and Witcher walked side by side and took a seat at their fire.
His ire only grew as that idiot of a knight dragged the corpse of the creature back to camp with him, slamming the pike with its head in the ground across from the young one and began to prepare its corpse for a feast.
There was no number of warnings or words that would dissuade the idiot knight from doing such a thing, from causing more agony to ripple around. Nor did the constant flirting and glances the Witcher and Witch made in front of the Bard who was scribbling in his book with vacant eyes, slumped shoulders, and a forced smile.
"Perhaps if Nilfgaard's religious zeal had been tempered earlier by a stronger hand..." He uttered sharp like a blade, pleased with himself as the Witch left with a pained wince and brought forth a small smile back to the young one.
"We should go hunt for dinner ourselves before the night grows dark," Véa spoke after a look and got to her feet, the Witcher following suit and giving the bard a long look.
When it was safe, when it was only the Bard and he left at the fire, all the others off on their own did Borch turn to him.
'All will be well young one.' He whispered watching as the Bard's head snapped up, mouth dropping open.
"H-how? That was in my head… how… I know it was how? What are… you're a dragon." Jaskier stumbled out, and Borch watched with amazement how fast his mind worked, smiling slightly.
'That I am young one,' he chuckled. "You truly are blessed Jaskier to understand my language and fast."
"I don't understand." Confusion was heavy in the words, on his tongue, on the way his face settled. "Why hire Geralt if you…?"
"Because of them." He replied softly, gesturing behind to the Reavers and the Dwarves. "I am but one dragon and once what we seek has been found I cannot leave it, I need someone to protect the nest."
Realisation dawned upon Jaskier. "An egg, that's why the Dragon didn't flee… it's your legacy…"
"That it is young one… that it is." Weary sadness pulled at Villentretenmerth's shoulders. Cesio was not his mate, but they had both wanted a hatchling, their breed was dying out and both wished to help bring forth the next generation.
Jaskier stood and moved to sit by Borch's side, resting his hand on the old man's shoulder. "I'm sorry Villentretenmerth. I am sorry for your loss and I hope for the sake of your kind the egg is alright."
Villentretenmerth's head snapped up in surprise, eyes flashing gold as the language of his kind slipped off the human's tongue with ease, the growl and hiss click of the words smooth in a throat that shouldn't be able to produce the sounds so. Even Tea and Véa struggle with the very basics but here…
He understood now what the Unicorn meant.
A chuckle left his lips as he clapped the young one on the back. "You are a surprise and I see why they have blessed you so. Now go, get some rest, tomorrow is going to be a long day. I'll wake you when the food is ready."
Jaskier frowned at the words but nodded. "Alright, thank you Villentretenmerth."
J
When it was all said and done when Villentretenmerth could peel himself away from the egg once the Dwarves marched back and the bodies of the Reavers were disposed of he found himself sitting with the pair on the edge of the mountain, the wind whipping around them.
His egg is safe in the hands of Tea and Véa.
Many paths were still happening, and many branches of fate grew and withered… yet still, in the centre of it all was the young one. There were many paths that lead to the Bard's death, such agony and torment if the Witch and Witcher stayed together if Borch didn't interfere. The human had suffered and will suffer so for a long time, and Borch couldn't allow that.
He watched as they argued, her words like poison and his like blades… he watched and tasted the sadness in the air so repugnant in the fact it came from a being so pure and loved by the creatures of this world.
"That's enough." He snapped drawing the attention of the two. "I'm going to save you both a lot of hurt with a little pain now. The sorceress will never regain her womb. And though you didn't want to lose her, Geralt, you will."
Devastation flickered across the stoic face of the Witcher while the witch spat the words of affirmation before storming away. The branches that lead to the death of the young one withered but remained, still a path that can happen but less likely so.
"You wanted to show me what I was missing... there she goes." Geralt pointed out; gold eyes gleaming.
Borch shook his head sadly. "No Geralt. What you're missing is still out there. Your legacy. Your destiny. I know it. And you know it."
He turned his head and locked eyes with the young one who oozed concern and agony before looking back towards Geralt once more.
"Don't let the anger and misery blind you Geralt, you have been blessed greatly… do not throw that all away or you'll come to regret it." He advised one last time before turning away, his eyes locking on the young one once more, taking in every new branch with grief.
He will hurt far more than what Villentretenmerth wanted but it was the final outcome that made it all worth it.
'Safe travels Julian the Blessed. May Melitele protect you Hatchling.' Villentretenmerth whispered as he passed, hand clasping the bards' shoulder briefly as they passed.
Jaskier paused and tipped his head. "May the wind hold you and fire burn bright within Villentretenmerth. Until next time."
A huff of surprised laughter escaped him in a smoky huff at the blessing, but it didn't last long as he heard the ire being uttered behind and with a deep sigh, Villentretenmerth let out a wave of his power towards the young one.
Be safe.