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Geralt wasn't used to overt gratitude, and neither was Eskel, who was at his side, looking just as bewildered as he, food warm in their bellies, drinks never empty no matter. He supposed saving the only daughter of the mayor of a small town would earn an ordinary man this kind
of celebration but still. They were Witchers, weren't they?
They had happened upon the girl being dragged away by a drowner, with more waiting in the river for her, and it wasn't hardly any work at all to kill the things, not for two Witchers, especially not for two as good
They had happened upon the girl being dragged away by a drowner, with more waiting in the river for her, and it wasn't hardly any work at all to kill the things, not for two Witchers, especially not for two as good
as he and Eskel. The girl had clung to Geralt, shaking with fear, after, Eskel carefully tending to the slashes and claw marks, weeping in pain but holding still, and Geralt felt for the brave slip of a thing. Most normal folk would have fainted by now, but she gamely kept her
chin tilted up as she directed them to her home, and they heard it before they saw it, people frantic and calling her name.
A man shouted when he spotted them, and another came up, fumbling with his purse, the heavy stink of fading fear in the air, and he dropped it in shock
A man shouted when he spotted them, and another came up, fumbling with his purse, the heavy stink of fading fear in the air, and he dropped it in shock
when they declined payment. They'd silently agreed on the walk to town not to bother with it; they had enough coin, now, and they hadn't been contracted to kill the things anyways.
But a woman sprinted over, desperate, and the girl reached her arms out with a cry of, "Mama!"
But a woman sprinted over, desperate, and the girl reached her arms out with a cry of, "Mama!"
And the next thing they knew they were being shoved into what passed for an inn, and then food came and so did alcohol. Everyone moved outside at some point, cobbled together enough food and wine and seats for an impromptu festival of sorts.
People kept coming up to shake
People kept coming up to shake
their hands, slap them on the back, the sheer amount of beer being drunk keeping the habitual fear of Witchers at bay. Eskel was properly enjoying himself, foot tapping along to the music that had broken out, the noon sun high and hot, his thigh a brand alongside Geralt’s.
A young woman came up to them, pretty and freckled with deeply brown eyes, a babe held safely in her arms, and to Geralt’s immense surprise she deposited the child into his open arms and turned to embrace Eskel thoroughly.
As she explained that she was the girl's cousin, so
As she explained that she was the girl's cousin, so
happy to see her safe and alive, Geralt stared down at the infant in his arms. His arms moved as if on instinct, the babe nestled safely in the crook of his elbow, eyes as dark as it's mother's blinking sleepily up at him, and something deep in his chest *shifted*.
Witchers didn't have children, didn't become parents, and even a child surprise was simply left at the keep to become a Witcher themselves. But the babe smiled a gummy little smile at him, and, for a breathtaking moment, Geralt imagined himself as the father to a babe with
wild red hair and river dark eyes, exactly as Eskel's had been before the Trials took them from them both.
A fool's dream. A fool's wish, but still, as the girl took her child back with a lingering kiss to his whiskered cheek Geralt *wanted*.
A fool's dream. A fool's wish, but still, as the girl took her child back with a lingering kiss to his whiskered cheek Geralt *wanted*.
