wiedzminka | ❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

[ yennefer does comes to check ciri's cabin in search of a reply, because yes, her tent does tend to move, her domain an ever changing landscape of the various lives she's lived. the trick to finding yennefer in that domain, she's found, is having a yennefer who wants to be found.

but right now - with the queen keeping tabs and the uncertainty of how far that reach may stretch, yennefer doesn't want to be found by anyone. not unless she plans it, not unless she knows it's safe. that is why she is the one who comes back to ciri's, why she finds the note with the date and time, ciri's little post script, and then yennefer is just sort of smiling to herself. relieved, in a way. ( honestly, relieved in more ways than she realized. )

she arrives on time on the suggested day, stopping only momentarily to feed kelpie an apple and to pet her nose gently before heading towards the cabin itself. she pauses at the doorway, even while it is open, and knocks on the frame three times. just in case. before she gives a small smile towards ciri when she sees her seated inside. ]

I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.

[ Ciri senses her coming -- not because she has any of a 'normal' witcher's extra powers, but because this is her domain, and she has been waiting, listening, expecting Yennefer to approach. She is already looking up when Yennefer knocks, and acknowledges the pause to ask her permission with a nod. ]

Not at all. Come in.

[ Ciri does not stand to greet her, like she usually does. But she begins to pack up her supplies into their leather, folding them away and setting her sword to the side while Yennefer takes a seat (if she wishes to).

The cottage is sparse as ever, the table this time devoid of anything to eat or drink as she'd been using it. But it is warm inside, and a fire crackles in the hearth, above which are mounted antlers (with the skull still attached).

Ciri takes in Yennefer's appearance with sharp scrutiny, watching her movements, her expressions. Her greeting is neutral, her smile a little less warm than it might have been before. ]

How much time do we have?

[ yennefer notes the fact ciri does not stand for her. notices the differences in the meetings they've had before and now. it is not anything sharp, or unwelcoming necessarily, but a wariness. a wariness that yennefer had known to expect. so even as she pauses for that moment in the doorway to wait for that come in, she is not surprised by the tension she finds.

her eyes do scan the room, noting the differences, and feeling herself settle into ciri's mood. when she makes it to the table, she does sit with a familiarity that perhaps isn't as fitting. ]

As much time as we need. [ a beat, before yennefer continues. ] Thorne believes me in the Horizon for reasons that are not entirely incorrect, but will not bring attention here either. They will not become suspicious of how much time I am here. Not this time.

[ Ciri's shoulders relax, slightly. With a wave of her hand, she crafts a pitcher of wine from the endless cloth of the Horizon, completing the set with two matching goblets. ]

That is a relief.

[ She pauses, taking the moment to pour, then to slide one of the goblets across the table to Yennefer. Ciri takes her own in front of her, fingers clasped around the stem, without lifting it.

Her eyes meet Yennefer's, steady. There is no accusation there, not exactly -- but there is a distance, a fence if not a wall. ]

Geralt insists you did not know. [ Before Yennefer can confirm or deny this, Ciri continues: ] I believe him. What's happened is already past. I'm not interested in what you missed. It's done. What I want to know is--

Was it worth it?

[ as ciri's shoulders relax, so do yennefer's, her eyes turning to the pitcher of wine and the two goblets before turning back to ciri herself. she finds herself curious - about the tension that is still in the air, about what ciri might be thinking, about where this conversation will lead.

but yennefer is here, and she's prepared to answer questions. that was the whole intent of this, after all.

her eyes meet ciri's and she can see the distance there (tries not to let it pain her, but it does all the same), though she also notes the lack of accusation. at ciri's question, yennefer lets out a breath, sitting up a little more in the seat she's taken. ]

The Queen comes from a military family- old, and powerful, in the ways of magic as much as the ways of politics. It means she's used to getting her way, no matter what it takes. Her husband is all but absent when it comes to ruling Thorne, so any and all final decisions will come directly from her. [ she knows it is something of a lead, and may sound a bit like yennefer is trying to defend her actions, to explain herself - but more than anything yennefer realizes she wants ciri to understand. ]

She's already proven that she's willing to act out against the Summoned, putting their lives in jeopardy for the sake of her own agenda. Whatever it is Ambrose has planned, it won't mean anything if the Queen doesn't agree. And if she chooses to lash out against the Summoned, there will be very little Ambrose, or any of the other mages, can do to fight her. She has the people of Thorne's loyalty, and everything she does is for them, above all else. And if anything were going to happen that would spawn a war, or if anything would happen that would put you in danger, it will be because of her.

[ yennefer pauses here, before she reaches for the goblet, her eyes pulled from ciri for just that moment until she continues. ]

I made a mistake, allowing anything to happen in that castle that would connect me to Geralt, or to you. It is not a mistake I will make again. [ there is a tension that courses through her at that. at the admission, at the knowledge that the only reason it happened at all was because of her. her jaw tightens, before she takes a breath as she turns back to meet ciri's eyes. ] No, I did not know. [ a low grade anger still sits under those words, but yennefer is not planning on getting into that, here. ] But now that my loyalty has been proven, as far as the Queen is concerned... I will know, next time, and I will be able to do something to stop it.

[ Even though Yennefer backs up a few steps to explain, Ciri doesn't interrupt her. She listens, sipping at her wine without really paying any attention to it, soaking in the information. The situation in Thorne is only a vague picture in her mind, clear enough that she understands who the main players are, though their individual goals and squabbles matter little to her. The more they push pawns around internally, the less time they'll have to focus on things that might actually affect her out here. Ciri doesn't think it's irrelevant, of course; the pressure is building, and one of these powder kegs will blow sooner or later. But she doesn't have any loyalty to the kings and countries of this world (or any other, frankly, not after she'd watched her home burn). Minimizing damage for everyone's sake is a worthy goal. It is incidental, alongside her only real goal of keeping her family safe and together, and eventually bringing them home.

She will let Yennefer deal with royals and mages. It is what Yennefer does. ]

I already told you. It isn't the mistake I'm interested in. It's what comes out of it.

[ Ciri sets her cup down with a metallic clink against the wood. ]

Does the Queen herself confide in you now? Or will she keep testing because that is what people like her do?

[ She leans forward on her elbows, intent on Yennefer's face. ]

You're pushing her toward something. Simple reconnaissance isn't your style.

[ It's not a question; they both know it's true, even though Ciri doesn't know what, exactly, Yennefer is trying to get out of the Queen of Thorne. She wishes, somehow, Yennefer hadn't involved herself with the highest power in that country, but it's a stupid wish she wouldn't dare say aloud. Ciri wasn't surprised when Geralt told her. She isn't surprised now. She just needs Yennefer not to lose sight of what's important. For all their sakes. ]

What has the price Geralt paid bought you?

[ the truth of the matter is that ciri isn't wrong - the politics of this world, the factions broken between thorn and the free cities and solvunn, the tensions building in the space between, they don't mean much for her, directly. they rarely do. and as yennefer has watched first hand, countries and settlements and cities will fall, and they will rise again. the difference, this time around, is the singularity. a single source of unimaginable power. and thorne is the only one trying to understand it. that will com to affect ciri, just as it will come to affect them all, but that is not the question that she asks.

yennefer watches her listen, watches her react, watches her take in information and understand it from where she sits. what she's learned. she is no fool, and certainly not a child by any means, and it catches yennefer yet again, how in her words and expressions she sees geralt. brash and direct, stubborn. and then with it, a spark all her own. yennefer sits up a little in her chair, sets her own glass of wine down on the table. ]

She is the Queen of Thorne, Ciri, I know better than to assume her actions. But she will not keep testing me, and will listen to my counsel, where before her only directives were from other native Thorneans or her own mind.

[ ciri's observation sits in the space between them, and yennefer doesn't feel the need to confirm or deny it - holding onto ciri's eyes with her own. she is not afraid of ciri's attention, but more than that, she is not uncertain about her decisions. does it still sit, uneasy and rotten, in the pit of her stomach what happened to geralt? yes. does what she saw, in his mind, follow her to bed each night? yes. but she will not back down from her own decision to stay behind. just as she won't back down from the process she's already begun.

and when the question finally is asked, yennefer does not back down from it. does not so much as blink, despite the taste that rises in the back of her throat. the price geralt paid. as much as the question pulls that from her, though, the answer is clear. simple. and it hasn't wavered since she made this decision. ]

Access to the only person in Thorne, potentially on this entire continent, that would have the reason, means, and power to harm you.

Which one would you say has the most pieces, then? Between Solvunn and the Free Cities. I assume the Thornean representatives return the shards to the monolith as was the ritual.

[ But she'd heard it was supposed to be one piece at a time. Not many. Ciri doesn't have details, and it's much harder to find reliable information -- though the people in Cadens come from far and wide, and some of them are willing to talk. All she knows is it's meant to keep the Singularity strong, or some such superstition.

She frowns. ]

Did anything happen? The it-- The Singularity, did it do anything? Look any different?

I think Solvunn. I was rendered unconscious while in my bat form for a time, so I may have missed some details. Reconstituting myself from being a few dozen woozy bats was...unpleasant.

[Enough about him. Different. That gives Alucard a moment's pause, working to recall what he did see.]

On one hand, the word dimming was fairly literal. The thing was less luminous than before. Metaphysically, it had less gravity to it. Less pull. There wasn't any Horizon around it, only crater.

[There's a note of concern in Alucard's voice. It isn't the worry of what aren't you telling me though. It is what should I watch for for you?]

There's more going on beneath the surface. There was no time to investigate that.

...I see.

[ Yennefer answers confidently. She doesn't even question it. If it's worth it.

Geralt never had, but Ciri doesn't expect him to; she knows what he would do, the lengths he would go. She knows Yennefer, too. Better than Yennefer perhaps realizes.

Ciri looks away, arms crossing over the tabletop, shoulders tight. ]

Please do not pretend it's only for my sake, Yennefer. You know that's not fair.

So much for neutrality.

[ As if Ciri was counting on that. She doesn't actually give a fuck about any of the factions or what they want, but if it becomes a problem for her family--

She wants to ask about Yennefer. But it is too much detail, and she doesn't, despite how much she wants to know. Alucard is not... untrustworthy. But he is not that close an ally, either.

Instead, she simply asks: ]

Did you get to speak with any of our number from Thorne or Solvunn directly? Did they seem particularly loyal to the task they'd been given?

[ She promised not to ask Alucard's intentions, but Ciri has a strong feeling he hadn't gone because he wanted to help out the Free Cities or Marlo in the particular. It seems more likely to her others had also gone out of curiosity, rather than a dedication to their new makeshift homes. ]

It may still be so, depending on what they choose to do with them. If they simply hoard and make no use, then an argument for neutrality remains.

[It is a little piece of speculation, and Alucard has to admit, he doesn't much care either.]

And I did not. If I was not running interference, then I was spending roughly half an hour as a few dozen stunned bats. [Has Jaskier told Ciri about the bat incident? He's not sure.] Being impacted by a magic based attack is a novelty for me.

[Moreover, and more importantly, he's filled his current plate up with pierogi. Golden eyes move towards a stack of clean dishes beside the sink.] Could you bring two more plates over to where I am, please?

[ As far as Amos is concerned, things are back to normal now.

Well, as normal as they can be here, which isn't very. Not for him, not in this world. But it's the one he's got now, so he's making do, same as he would no matter where he's ended up.

A big part of that is regularly popping into Geralt's space. The reversal had happened not too long ago; a bit of a change of pace, but one Amos has been perfectly comfortable with. Just as he's perfectly comfortable still coming to Geralt's. Nevermind what's in that basement. Thinking about it kinda makes Amos' skin crawl, so he doesn't think about it. Easy.

Instead he strolls up through the boneyard, same as he always has, carrying the sword Jaskier gifted him in one hand, personal shotgun slung across his back. You know. Just in case they ever wanna get some kind of target practice in. He'd showed it to Geralt when he'd come to visit him; now it's just gonna be the kind of thing he brings along with him every time he comes here. He's learning to be comfortable with Geralt's preferred weapon; feels right to bring his own preference along for the ride.

He enters the Keep, pauses once he's inside the walls. Doesn't seem like Geralt's here yet. Hell, Amos might be early. Who knows. Hearing about the events at the Dimming is starting to weigh on him; maybe it's fucking with his sense of time.

Either way, he's here now, and he's perfectly comfortable to lean a shoulder up against the wall and wait, casually inspecting what's apparently his favourite sword — since it's the one he took when offered it — while he does so. ]

[ maybe that is what's most unsettling about all of this - that yennefer knows ciri knows more about her than she realizes. that ciri has a knowledge and understanding that yennefer herself doesn't have. it edges on uncomfortable, if only for the place yennefer had found herself before she'd met ciri in those dungeons. i've lived two or three lifetimes already she'd told tissaia, fully expecting, almost knowing that it would be her end.

and yet there was ciri, who had all of these memories, all of this knowledge, of a yennefer that she herself hadn't expected to exist. who was that yennefer that she knew so well? and why did she feel a constant itch that she was failing to live up to her?

yennefer feels her jaw tighten at the thought of it, at the way ciri's shoulder's tighten. ]

I don't pretend. [ she says, her tone not exactly sharp, but with the promise of an edge, if she needs to. yennefer can recognize the urge to be defensive, the way her body tenses in the seat, but she exhales another breath and looks at ciri.

she is not sorry for it. not for her reasons, or what she did. she is sorry for the fact geralt was a part of it, sees it as a mistake that she will not make again, and with all the protectiveness she can feel from ciri, yennefer can see echoes of geralt himself. ] But you asked me what the price had been for, and that is the truth.

[ and the worst part is - she's being honest. there might be more to it, might have other legs and other advantages and other things yennefer could get out of it, but the bottom line had always been ciri. the promise she made geralt. the promise she'd made herself, that first day in the cells. the spark. ]

[ She doesn't exactly flinch, but the sense of tension winds tighter across Ciri's shoulders and the set of her jaw, her arms pressed into the tabletop like she's trying to keep herself grounded there. So she won't reel back, or withdraw, or simply fucking leave.

Honestly, she'd hoped Yennefer would say something else. That she would admit to the political advantages with more enthusiasm, or explain the strategic value of Geralt's sacrifice in the grand scheme of their goals here -- access to the Singularity, to some more powerful magic, something like that. It would be easier that way. Maybe.

Maybe it wouldn't twist the guilt like a knife in her gut. Again.

Ciri breathes out slowly, closing her eyes a fraction longer than a blink. ]

All right. I understand the advantage.

Keep us informed as well as you can.

Who attacked you?

[ Ciri obliges, bringing over the plates as he asks. And yes, she knows about the bat incident (a fascinating power, considering she knows a vampire can turn into one bat, but many of them is new).

Once the plates are handed over, she decides to grab one of the large bottles of ale (an excellent invention) out of the ice box (another excellent invention that's impressed all of them). Yanking the cork free, Ciri stops the foam trying to bubble out by taking a swig right from the bottle before raising it in offer. She cocks her head in question. ]

Bottle or cup?

[ Ciri might not have noticed him inside the keep, if not for the fact she'd glimpsed someone on the steps as she was leaving her own little cottage on the outskirts. It sits against the mountainside, but with the wall around Kaer Morhen in disrepair, the cottage is situated so that Ciri can easily see into the courtyard through a crumbled gap in the stone.

The figure definitely isn't Geralt. And it isn't anyone she recognizes. Still, she notices the wolf does not appear agitated, only raising his head to look out at the intruder without any signs of aggression, only mild interest. Curious, Ciri decides to see what's going on.

Perhaps sensing her vague unease, the wolf -- which had been lying down near her doorway before -- stands and shakes its fur out, loping after her as she moves toward the keep.

Ciri pushes the doors open, peering inside. She sees a man she's never met before. Casually holding a sword and what she recognizes now as a gun.

She frowns. Not aggressive (not yet), but just... confused. ]

Who are you?

[ Amos lifts his head at the sound of the doors opening, expecting to see Geralt. Whoever this is, it is definitely not him. They kinda have the same hair colour, and similar weirdly bright eyes, but that's about it.

He blinks. Doesn't change his posture at all, still leaning against the wall, completely unthreatened by this new person. If anything, he's acting like he's supposed to be here because, well, putting aside the part where either he or Geralt might've fucked up the time, he is. ]

I'm Amos. [ Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Kinda is, to him. He glances down at the wolf that he's never really acknowledged before, back up at this stranger. Cocks his head to the side. ] Guess Hunter's not here yet. [ His nickname for Geralt. It's unlikely he'll elaborate. ] Who're you?

Not a face I know, meaning it is either someone newer or someone who was never thrown into Thorne's cells.

[Alucard shrugs. Both options are valid. He probably should care more, lest this happen again, but now he knows what to be on the look out for. A worthy experiment at any rate, even if it was not a complete outlet for his anger.

Ciri may busy herself with the icebox, but Alucard's attention returns to the pierogi. He has...probably two dozen left, based on the remaining dough. Just enough to move onto the desert pierogi filled with raspberry jam.

He takes the jar, smears a dollop onto the dough, and repeats the process.]

Neither until I'm entirely done, thank you. I-- [oh.

Alucard's eyes go back towards the ice box.]

I have no idea how to fit all of these in there.

[ It's becoming clear quickly enough that Alucard doesn't really have any information that will be of use to her. That's fine. She could press, ask him for details on who was there, what they looked like--

But in the end, Ciri doesn't care that much. And she suspects Alucard would get prickly and unhelpful over it, anyway. What is the point? It's only one person she actually wants to know the status of, and she's not willing to ask in such detail. She will hear from Yennefer soon enough, surely. ]

Why put them in the ice box? Just boil them.

Because if you freeze them, then you don't have to eat all of them immediately. That leaves the possibility of a longer stockpile.

[He could go on, say if Ciri's inclined to just boil it he'll need another set of hands, but that isn't strictly true and she seems to have far more important matters on her mind. The dhampir respects that much, just as he always continues to play by the rules of never poking at what is below the surface. If someone is inclined to share, it'll happen.

But he'll make an offer.]

If anything else stands out in my memory over the next few days, I'll let you know.

[ Who the fuck is "hunter"?

Ciri stares at him, then glances down at the wolf, gauging by its lack of reaction that this man -- Amos -- is not unwelcome. It's unspoken between them, but they all know; the wolf will reflect Geralt's feelings toward someone in his domain, at least to the extent that it will receive them with a welcome or lack thereof, perhaps even disregard. Hostility if it is warranted, Ciri assumes (though she's yet to witness it.)

It's as good an indicator as any. She tries to remember if Geralt has mentioned the name Amos before. He might have, offhand. Someone not near enough to see in person, maybe one of those from the dungeons she'd never encountered, who'd scattered to other parts of the world like Julie and the others. Ciri lets the doors fall closed behind her with a creak and a shudder of old wood settling into its enormous frame.

She rests her hand on the pommel of her dagger (its pommel carved with a snarling wolf's head), but her posture is relaxed. It's merely a comfortable position, not a threat. ]

I'm Ciri.

Are you waiting for Geralt?

[ Her hand's movement draws attention to the stylization of her dagger. Amos' eyes drift from the pommel, to the wolf, back to Ciri's face. Arright. So there's a theme here.

He still doesn't move, self-assured that everything's fine. If it wasn't, then he can adapt to that immediately, too. But this isn't anything. Just... meeting someone else who belongs here, apparently. ]

Yeah. I might be early.

[ He has the grace to look a little sheepish at the thought, bringing up his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck. ]

He's been helping me get used to the whole sword thing. They're not really a thing where I'm from, so, you know. [ A shrug. It's better to be versed in a world's weapons than not. ] Not like I got one out in the real world, but probably better learning how to use one now than if I had to do it on the fly. He's been good for that.

Mm. I see.

[ Someone Geralt has actually agreed to train. That explains it. ]

Yeah. Might be. You want to train, though, feel free. I'm curious to see what you've learned so far.

[ She cocks her head, eyeing him curiously. Knowing that Geralt is working with this Amos and teaching him to fight gives her a different perspective, one that seems to assure her Amos is not someone she needs to be too wary of. So it is not with suspicion but only light curiosity that she asks: ]

Why did you bring the gun?

[ Amos glances around the Keep at her invitation to start training on his own. He's got his form pretty much down at this point, and has paid particular attention to the weight of his weapon — even changing it up sometimes, considering how that's a thing he can do now out in the real world, but that's still a new one for him. Something he hasn't even really told Geralt he's playing with yet. It'll come up sooner or later on its own.

He rolls the wrist of the hand holding his sword, getting a feel for it; it's when he's about to lift his shotgun's sling over his head, lean the weapon against the wall so as to not throw him off, that he hears Ciri's question; looks up at her mid-movement. ]

Hunter asked about it when he came to see me, couple weeks back. Wanted to see it in action. And I like having it, so. Figured it could just come along with me. [ He finishes pulling the sling up over his head, and it's as he's setting the weapon safely out of the way, up against the wall that he meets her eyes again, his own bright with curiosity, maybe even something that could be construed as hope. ] You shoot?

❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

horizon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject