in which destiny brings two bonded lives together, but alas, neither of them gave a fuck.
until a bard started writing songs of the two of them.
❝whom the fuck?❞
─ book one of the ❝curse of onyx❞ series
(catching up :P )
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The village was still bland and boring as dead grass as the Wolves walked through the worn marketplace being lead by a hyperactive and murderous young blonde girl who's father put up a poster for the kikimora ─ who was very dead and dripping dark and slimy blood all over Roach's chestnut coat, who didn't look happy about the whole ordeal.
Fiona, Aelin's lovely mare however, looked amused by her friend's uncomfortable situation. Like horse like rider one supposes.
The young blonde girl who was practically skipping in glee as she attempted to chat Geralt's ear off, only leading for him to revert back to short answers and his uninterested sighs and the occasional "Fuck" which would lead Aelin to elbow him in the side, scolding him of swearing in front of a child.
"How much coin for your kikimora then? I killed a rat this morning with my breakfast fork. Stabbed it in its fat little gut. My mother nearly fainted, but what was I supposed to do? It had been shitting in our pantry for days." Aelin blinked and turned her head back to the girl, how was this young girl as murderous as Geralt in the mornings?
Geralt rolled his eyes, wanting to just end the conversation then and there, "You mentioned coin." The brunette woman next to him once more elbowed him in the ribs for being impolite, "What he means is, is there prahaps coin involved?" her voice held a form of sweetness when speaking towards the child, despite being spooked by the amount of murder in the child's vocabulary.
Marilka nodded eagerly, the little blonde whisps that had escaped her buns bouncing around in the muted sunlight, "Yes. Isadora said you were looking for my father. She's a gossip, you see. Probably went two steps into the Lord's Inn before she was running off telling everyone an evil witcher and a wicked witch had arrived," she turned to the Captain, "are you a witch?" curiosity and childish excitement gleaming in her eyes.
Aelin blinked hard, confusion coming over her features as Geralt failed at concealing a snicker, "Uhh... I don't think so kid, no glowing hands or any interesting abilities here," she coughed out as she awkwardly fiddled with the strings of her corset, "Just a slightly immoral being who fights monsters for a living." the woman's silver eyes found Geralt's golden ones, silently asking for help. The White Wolf bit back an amused smile as he discreetly places a hand on the small of her back but did not let anything escape his lips.
The young blonde girl pouted and kicked a rock with her shoe, "That's disappointing, I thought you would be more interesting." This comment made Aelin chuckle almost bitterly, "You don't know the half of it." The former captain played with her Stark necklace, the conversation between the Witcher and the girl falling deaf to her ears. The thought of her home and of her siblings creeping into her mind like the the tide upon the shore. A knot formed in the bottom of her stomach, the feeling of homesickness flourishing inside her. The ever present feeling of emptiness, a chasm in her soul that only Robb could fill. She could only imagine her siblings missing her as much as she missed them. And she was right.
