The Witcher's Apprentice

…

Chapter 2: An Awkward Meeting

The first thing Aegon felt was the scent of herbs tickling his nose. With a slight grunt, he opened his eyes and closed them immediately as bright light suddenly blinded him. Rubbing his eyes in discomfort, he forced himself to open them again, albeit more slowly. As the light subsided to more manageable levels, Aegon saw that he was staring up at a wooden ceiling and he realised that he was laying on a thin fur blanket.

Levering himself to sitting position, the young man looked around. Various bunches of dried herbs hung everywhere and the low gurgling simmer of something in a pot could be heard. Sunlight poured in from a nearby open window and the faint sound of wind whistling through the trees outside made itself known to Aegon's ears. Swinging his legs out from the bed, Aegon's feet met the wood and stone floor. His muscles feeling stiff and leaden, Aegon grunted in exertion as he laboriously stood to his feet. Swaying on his feet, Aegon felt himself falling back down and he thrust out his hand to catch, only to yelp in pain as something hot lanced through his shoulder. Hitting the edge of the bed and his backside hitting the floor, the young knight panted in pain.

Looking at his shoulder, Aegon realised that his wound had been bandaged up and treated. Guessing that moving his arm had stressed the injury which was still healing. Rolling his shoulder slowly, Aegon gave a tiny hiss of discomfort before using his other arm to support his weight and slowly pulled himself back onto his feet.

Then the sound of cloth rustling and brushing against the ground along with the sound of slippers walking along the floor reached Aegon's ears and a woman's voice spoke to him.

"Ah, awake at last, are we?" the woman's voice was well-spoken and cultured sounding, making Aegon think this was a noblewoman, or at least one who was educated. Looking at the doorway to the room, Aegon's eyes widened at the sight of the woman before him.

She was, well, she was absolutely beautiful, Aegon thought to himself. She had shoulder length flaxen blonde hair, a face that sculptors would beg to carve a likeness of with a puckish amused grin pulling at her lips. Her manner of dress was also rather eye catching; she wore long ankle length blue dress that was very open on the bosom area giving an overtly enticing view of her cleavage. Her shoulders and arms were bare and hanging around her neck was a necklace of red beads with a strange looking talisman just reaching the valley of her cleavage.

Aegon must've been staring longer than he should have as the woman gave a discreet cough to get his attention. "Liking what you're seeing?" Aegon's eyes snapped up to see the amused look in the mysterious woman's hazel eyes which were looking down at something. Following the gaze, Aegon gave a start as he realised that he was naked as his nameday and apparently the sight of the woman before him had him sufficiently aroused. Giving an embarrassed squawk, Aegon fell backward onto the bed, grabbing the blanket to cover his modesty.

The woman gave a giggle, obviously amused by all this. "Well, you're certainly a healthy young man," she remarked.

Wrapping the blanket around his waist, Aegon blushed furiously, too embarrassed to say anything in his defence.

"Your clothes are in the chest by the bed," his host informed him. "I took the liberty of stitching up your tunic, but you'll forgive me if I didn't do too good a job of it. I am many things, but a seamstress is not one of them." She then sauntered out of the room to give Aegon some privacy.

Stumbling his way to the chest near the bed, Aegon found his clothes were indeed inside. Hurriedly, the young knight put his clothes on.

"All done?" the woman called from outside the room.

"Yes," Aegon called back. The woman stepped back into the room and put her hands on her hips.

"Well, as much as I enjoyed the sight of a naked young man, it's time for more important matters," the woman said. "First of all, who are you, what is your name?" she asked.

"Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, rightful heir to the Iron Throne and recently knighted."

"Iron Throne? What kingdom?"

"The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros," replied Aegon.

The woman raised a groomed eyebrow. "Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. I've not heard of such a place," she stated slowly. "How did you get here?" she enquired.

"I had recently won a squire's tourney and was knighted for it," Aegon began. "I was washing up in my tent when a young woman appeared in a flash of light and a gust of heat. She introduced herself as Ciri," he recalled.

"So you've met Ciri then, just as Geralt said," the strange woman said with a nod of understanding. "Am I to understand you are from another world then?" she asked lightly.

"Another world?" Aegon echoed in surprise. "Where am I even? Who are you?" he asked.

"Forgive my manners. I am Keira Metz, a sorceress and former advisor to King Foltest," the woman introduced herself with a polite curtsy. "As for where you are now, you are in Velen, Northern Temeria, currently No-Man's Land," she said airily.

"No-Man's Land… there is a war going on?"

Keira nodded. "Mhm. Between the northern kingdom of Redenia and the southern empire of Nilfgaard," she said bitterly.

"I see," Aegon swallowed a lump in his throat. "The man who brought me here, where is he? I'd like to thank him," he said.

"He's currently doing a little job for me at the moment, but he'll be back soon," Keira told the young knight. "Might I interest you in some refreshments? I don't have a full larder for entertaining, but I daresay you might be a little hungry & thirsty," she remarked.

Aegon sighed and gave a nod of relief. "Some wine or ale would be very nice right now."

Keira smiled as she led Aegon to the next room where they sat down at a small dining table where the sorceress place two pewter cups on the wooden surface before taking a bottle from a nearby shelf.

"Hm. My last bottle of Est-Est," Keira murmured to herself. "I'll need to contact my supplier," she further said to herself.

"Est-Est? Is that a local wine of this land?" Aegon asked in interest.

"Something like that," Keira said demurely. "What kind of wines do they have where you are from?" she enquired sweetly.

"Well there's wines from the Arbor, a region in the Reach, one of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros," replied Aegon as Keira poured them both a cup of wine. "There's also sweet wine, wines from Dorne, Strong-wine and even fire-wine," he listed off the ones he could remember.

"Well, Est-Est is brewed in the cellars of Castle Ravello in the kingdom of Toussaint," Keira stated. "Very dry. You should like it."

Taking a cautious sip of the alcohol, Aegon tasted it, getting a feel of it. It was quite pleasant, he thought, a very pleasant dry aftertaste in his mouth afterwards. "This is good wine," he told his hostess.

Keira smiled and took a sip of her cup. "Yes, it's exorbitantly expensive. I don't break out the good stuff for no reason," she said to her guest.

"Are we celebrating something?" Aegon asked looking mildly confused.

"Not as such, or at least, not yet," Keira said cryptically. "But the man who brought you here, his little job should bear some fruit," she added.

"I see." Aegon nodded in acceptance. "Would you tell me about the man who rescued me?" he requested.

"Where to start?" Keira jested. "His name is Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, a Witcher of the Wolf School of Kaer Morhen, famous all over the continent," she declared.

"So, Geralt is a hero of some kind?" Aegon asked in excitement.

Keira laughed at the question. "That would depend on what you consider a hero," she tittered in amusement. "As a witcher, Geralt often faces scorn and disdain from most peasants and nobles, although he has earned it to a degree."

"What did he do?" Aegon asked in a small voice.

"Well, I think it's better if you ask him when you see him. It's a touchy subject and I don't think he'll appreciate me telling it to a complete stranger," Keira said sardonically.

"Alright then," Aegon moved on to his next question. "And you called Geralt a witch?" he asked.

"Witch-er," Keira corrected him. "For one thing Geralt is decidedly male and witchers are different from witches, although try telling that to the commonfolk," she intoned dryly.

"And what are witchers? Are they an order of knights?"

"Witchers were once a large order of warriors, dedicated to hunting the things that go bump in the night," Keira replied. "They split off into various schools. Geralt belongs to the School of the Wolf. But sadly, witchers are few in number these days," she said dryly.

"Why is that? If these witchers hunt the monsters lurk under people's beds, wouldn't they be indispensable?" Aegon questioned.

"Ever hear of someone being too good at the job?" Aegon nodded. "Well, that's what witchers were in the past; they were too good at hunting monsters and there were more witchers than there were monsters for them to hunt," Keira said. "Witchers then began to turn to other avenues for work. Their training and skillset made them excellent assassins, but that put a big target on their collective rear ends and with general bias and bigotry towards the different and otherwise strange and many witchers were often met with torches and pitchforks from angry villagers."

"But wouldn't witchers, or even one witcher be more than a match a mob of peasants?" Aegon asked.

"Even numbers can overwhelm the most well-trained warrior," Keira told him firmly. "Witchers are no exception to that ruling and a wound from a pitchfork can be decidedly fatal," she said grimly.

"I suppose that's true," Aegon said in agreement. "So, what is it about witchers that makes them different from others? Besides hunting monsters."

"Witchers are taken as young boys and subjected to torture in no uncertain terms," Keira bluntly stated. "They're often forced to ingest toxic herbs and volatile concoctions to spur on physical mutations like strength, speed and reflexes, as well as the ability to use simple forms of magic," she explained. "Then at the age of eighteen, they are subjected to their mutations, the Trial of Grasses. Very few boys survive the Trial; eight or nine out of ten die horribly and painfully," she said grimly.

"And… those that survive?" Aegon asked quietly.

"Well, they become full fledged witchers and set out on the Path, taking contracts on monsters for the promise of coin," Keira replied. "Although, their work isn't strictly limited to hunting monsters; sometimes they lift curses and enchantments from people and even take on rescue missions," she said.

"So, they're like the knights-errant in the old fairy tales told to children?" Aegon asked.

"Some songs would paint them as such," Keira said blandly. "Although most bards sing of witchers in ways that are dark and foreboding which often makes people wary of them," she added as she took another sip of wine.

"I see," Aegon mumbled. His mind went to the infamous song The Rains of Castamere. That particular song had been composed after Lord Tywin Lannister had utterly eradicated two rebel houses, Reynes and the Tarbecks who had done nothing but mock and besmirch the Lannister name for years under the weak rule of Tywin's father, Tytos Lannister. After Tytos died, his heart apparently bursting as he walked up the stairs to his room, after which Tywin ascended to the role of Lord Protector and Warden of the westerlands. Upon assuming his role, Tywin had demanded that the Reynes and Tarbecks answer for all the years of insults and when they refused thinking him as weak as his father, Tywin mustered his forces and what followed afterwards was the entirety of all of the Reynes and Tarbecks being put to the sword. Not even the smallfolk were spared as the Lion of the Rock wiped out the two houses who had mocked his. Afterwards, Tywin had paid bards to sing about it all over the Westerlands so that none would ever dare challenge him ever again.

"Well, as cheery as this conversation has gotten, I think we're running out of wine," Keira said sardonically as she indicated the half empty bottle.

"I'm sorry. I'll buy you another bottle," Aegon offered quickly.

Kiera smiled sweetly and replied, "That's very generous of you, but I daresay you haven't any money to purchase a bottle of Est-Est, or any bottle of alcohol for that matter."

Aegon flushed in embarrassment and smiled weakly. Before he could ask what he might do to earn some money, the front door to the cottage gave dull thuds.

"Ah, that must be Geralt now," Keira rose from her seat, smoothing out the wrinkles of her dress and glided over to answer the door. And stepping inside was the man who had rescued Aegon.

Aegon had to swallow a lump in his throat at he gazed upon the witcher Geralt of Rivia. The man was taller than he was and looked healthy and strong. The hair on his head was a pure snowy white colouration. A scar was on the left side of his pale face, going down from his eyes and curving across the flesh of his cheek. He was clad in a mixture of leather and chainmail. A medallion in the shape of a snarling wolf's head hung from a thin silver chain around his neck. A pair of sword hilts poked over his broad right shoulder, one with a circular pommel and the other with a pair of twisting wolf heads of silvery metal. But it was the man's eyes that drew Aegon's fascination; they were a bright amber gold colour but the pupils were thin vertical slits like a cat or snake's.

"Geralt! Just when I was starting to miss you," Keira smiled brightly.

"Keira," Geralt grunted in greeting, his focus on Aegon. "Awake at last," he remarked dryly.

Aegon rose from his seat to greet his saviour. Holding out a hand to shake, Aegon spoke formally. "Greetings to you, Ser Geralt of Rivia. My thanks for rescuing me last night."

Geralt clasped Aegon's hand in a gloved hand and Aegon noted that the man was strong, quite strong. "Don't mention it, kid," the witcher said to him modestly.

"If there's anything I can do to repay you…?" Aegon offered uncertainly.

"Yeah, there is," Geralt said instantly. "You can tell me what you know about Ciri," he told Aegon.

"Why do you wish to know?" Aegon asked guardedly. "Are you hunting her?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow.

Geralt sighed reluctantly before saying, "Something like that, but I have no wish to harm her. Ciri's like a daughter to me and she's in danger."

"I gathered that when I first met her," Aegon nodded in understanding. "Ghostly riders showed up in the camp not long afterwards. I helped Ciri to escape the camp, but we were cornered by the riders. The next thing I knew was I found myself in this land and you know the rest," he explained.

"Start from the beginning, and be as detailed as possible," Geralt said to the young knight brusquely.

Aegon looked at Keira and asked, "I don't suppose you have more some more wine? This could take a while…"

"I have some others we could partake in," Keira said generously as she began to search through her cupboard. "I'd like to know more as well," she added. "That is if it's alright with you, Geralt?" she asked looking at the Witcher.

"No problem at all," Geralt said with a nod of acceptance. Sitting at the table, the Witcher leaned forward in his seat. "Let's start from the beginning; what is your name? Where do you come from? And, how did you get here?" he listed off his questions.

Aegon sighed as he prepared to tell his rescuer everything he knew. This would take a while.

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N: there! After a long wait, I've finally updated this. I know it's a crappy filler chapter and there might be another filler chapter as Geralt and Keira then explain to Aegon what kind of world he has found himself in, but hopefully the chapter after that we'll see Aegon assist Geralt in his search for Ciri and even help the White Wolf with some monster contracts, be it an official witcher contract or just clearing out a nest of monsters like nekkers or drowners. We'll see how it goes.

In other news, I've got the idea of a GoT/ASOIAF/Marvel Comics crossover and I've set up a voting poll of what the story setting could be. Basically, it's Aegon/Eggsy and a couple of Marvel babes landing in another universe because of the Beyonder wanting to see how they would fare in one of his many experiments, so feel free to vote if you haven't already and hopefully, I'll be able to sit down and write/publish the first chapter. I already have another crossover story that I need to sit down and write the first chapter for, my Elder Scrolls/Highschool of the Dead crossover, but I lack the discipline/motivation to sit down and write the story. I know what I want to write, I just lack the attitude to write it.

But apart from that, that's all I have, so I'll see you all in the next one.

Be kind to one another,

Angry lil' elf.