It's nearing dusk when Visenya reaches the town. Her breathing is ragged and heavy, legs numb from the excessive exercise, but she wouldn't slow her pace. Anytime she did, the sprint morphing into a brisk jog, Jaskier's face appeared in her mind. The pain in his face combined with his inability to breathe spurred her back into action.
She couldn't let him die. Not like everyone else.
After what feels like a century, she arrives at her destination. It's small and quaint, painstakingly similar to Blaviken. What she could remember of it, anyways. It appears rather empty, with only a few people lingering in the streets. As she enters the town, she's met with a few wary glances. Yet no one says anything.
She stops the first person she comes across, an older woman with deep crows feet and graying hair.
"Excuse me, is there a mage in this town?" she asks. The woman glances at her, suspicion burning in her eyes.
"What's it to you?" she asks.
"My friend, he needs help," Visenya says. The woman stares at her a moment longer, as if she's trying to read a lie in Visenya's face. A sigh leaves her mouth, eyes moving away from Visenya's.
"She's at the mayor's home." She points straight ahead at the largest building in the town. Visenya nods her head, muttering a quiet 'thank you' before launching forward yet again.
Dipping and dodging people, Visenya marches towards the building. Her heart is no longer racing. Instead, it rests at a dangerously faint beat. She can hear the blood pumping through her heart, and can feel the chill of the air against her skin.
Encasing the home are tall walls, a gated entrance that's left open. She continues to walk towards it, her pace quickening once more.
Approaching the gates, a burly man steps out from behind the wall, blocking Visenya's entrance. He's bald and large, towering over her with heavy armor glinting in the fading light. His face is set in a scowl, arms crossed over his chest. He puffs up and straightens to stand taller, an attempt to appear more intimidating.
She comes to a halt only a few inches away from the man, looking up at him with a deep scowl set on her face. He needs to move, and he needs to move now. If he won't, she isn't opposed to making him.
"Toll to enter," he says, eyes scanning Visenya's body. It makes her skin crawl, the urge to punch him growing stronger.
"I don't remember buildings being blocked by a paywall," Visenya says, moving to step around him. He moves with her, his hand reaching out and shoving her back. Despite the force behind his push she remains unmoved, leveling him with a glare made of steel.
"This one does. We care deeply of our townsfolk and spare no cost to keep them happy." There's a smug glint in his eyes, a smirk dancing on his lips that she wants to slap off his face. But she resists the urge, violence won't solve all her problems. "Taxes come from somewhere."
"I'm sure this money is going to the townsfolk, and certainly not lining your pocket." Again she takes a step to walk around him, but follows every move she makes.
"Pay the fee and you can enter," he says.
She huffs and clenches her jaw, lips set in a frown.
"I need to get in."
"Then you need to pay. Money opens all doors, afterall."
Her jaw clenches, eyes narrowed into slits.
"Or you let me enter and you get to keep your face intact."
He snorts and raises a single brow, the most patronizing expression crossing his face. The temptation to smack him is only growing. And as that grows, the temperature of her body rises as well. It's a slow build, not powerful enough that feels like she might burst, yet enough to make her skin scalding to the touch.
YOU ARE READING
The Last Dragon | The Witcher
Fanfiction"With Fire and Blood." ~~~ In which Geralt finds himself bound to another exiled princess.
