( Parts of this feel like instruction she's had between sword play and keeping focus, adjusting to what's happening without losing focus, and the time on the witcher's training grounds. Run the gauntlet, learn to recover. Learn how to fall without making it all worse.
She looks down the weapon's short length, seeing the notches he tells her about. Looking through them as a focal point, and lining up with whatever first catches her eye. A mark on the far wall, not one of the targets he'd been using.
His question is one she wants to say yes to, but she pauses, lowering the gun, turning her head toward him. )
What do you want in return?
( This isn't Kaer Morhen. This isn't Yennefer, when she was using Ciri to try and save herself, before she used herself willingly to save Ciri. This isn't Geralt understanding what Ciri needs when Ciri barely understands it, and teaching her sword forms, how to start defending herself with a power she can rely on: herself. This isn't holding a big ball meant to inform her somehow about her magic, only to be left cracked and broken when people had once again invaded a sanctuary and stained it in blood and death and ashes.
Negotiating what this place is, what it means to be part of this crew hunting after orbs and for the hope, the determination, of changing what it was they regretted, that's unifying and strange at the same time. She doesn't know what people here want. More functional teammates? Reliable backup? People to throw at problems while they find their own less dangerous solutions? Sabriel said no one'd died yet, but that doesn't mean everyone gets on, or ever will. Or that people aren't scheming for their own benefit, however little that makes personal sense to her in the situation. She still doesn't know. The kindness of strangers is a beautiful, wonderful thing.
And it's led to a lot of dead strangers to add to her list of regrets. )
no subject
She looks down the weapon's short length, seeing the notches he tells her about. Looking through them as a focal point, and lining up with whatever first catches her eye. A mark on the far wall, not one of the targets he'd been using.
His question is one she wants to say yes to, but she pauses, lowering the gun, turning her head toward him. )
What do you want in return?
( This isn't Kaer Morhen. This isn't Yennefer, when she was using Ciri to try and save herself, before she used herself willingly to save Ciri. This isn't Geralt understanding what Ciri needs when Ciri barely understands it, and teaching her sword forms, how to start defending herself with a power she can rely on: herself. This isn't holding a big ball meant to inform her somehow about her magic, only to be left cracked and broken when people had once again invaded a sanctuary and stained it in blood and death and ashes.
Negotiating what this place is, what it means to be part of this crew hunting after orbs and for the hope, the determination, of changing what it was they regretted, that's unifying and strange at the same time. She doesn't know what people here want. More functional teammates? Reliable backup? People to throw at problems while they find their own less dangerous solutions? Sabriel said no one'd died yet, but that doesn't mean everyone gets on, or ever will. Or that people aren't scheming for their own benefit, however little that makes personal sense to her in the situation. She still doesn't know. The kindness of strangers is a beautiful, wonderful thing.
And it's led to a lot of dead strangers to add to her list of regrets. )