Geralt of Rivia was best known as the White Wolf. A Witcher. A killing machine. However like all, there is a time before. Like most young boys, they find themselves in love. Though for Geralt, the girl he had fallen for was the princess of the elven...
Vesemir gently unfolded the bandages from around Larissa's hands as she sat at a table in the infirmary, seated on a hard wooden stool as he tended to her wounds. "The work of Geralt I see." Vesemir said as he lifted his eyes to meet Larissa, the elf only giving a nod. Vesemir looked back down, chuckling to himself. "He never was overly interested in the art of healing. Never to worry. A mix of herbs will have your hands good as new in a weeks time." Vesemir assured as he walked across the room to a large table full of viles, herbs, bowls and all sorts of things required for healing.
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Kaer Morhen had nothing on Nevermore, but it was the finest place the elf had been since it's fall. She had no judgments to place, she was happy to finally be in comfort and safe. The castle smelt of warm wood. Large fires warmed it's walls. It was vastly empty. Only but the things the men would require. Tables and chairs mostly. It had a warmth about it. Not the fire kind of warmth, but a warmth that came from a family. Brothers in arms.
Vesemir returned with a bowl full of thick brown like past in his hands, setting down it in front of her. "Stinks a bit, but it works well." He assured as he began to gently apply the past over her stitched cuts with his bare hand.
"Thank you." Larissa replied softly, managing to hold back a wince at the stinging sensation of the paste seeping into her wound.
"I believe we may have a spare dress around you can wear whilst you get yours cleaned up. I've got one of the boys getting a bath ready for you and a room. Though I must warn this place was not built to cater guests. Especially not princess's. Yet somehow we have two here." He admitted with a chuckle as he finished dressing her wounds, wrapping the bandages back around her hands.
Larissa giggled softly. "I assure you, I am in not state to be fussy. I am more than grateful for the hospitality and kindness." She began as she pulled her hands back into her lap once Vesemir was finished. "How has Ciri been here? I can't imagine it's been easy on her."
Vesemir scoffed playfully, placing the bowl back down on the other bench. "She's actually fitting in quite well. She is not afraid to stand up to these men around her. She wants to be one of us. A Witcher. But even I must agree that a growing girl needs a woman. Besides, she is a princess after all. When this war is over, I'm sure it's expected that she should return to Cintra to take her place as it's Queen."
Larissa hummed softly, nodding her head as she stood up, walking a few steps as she twisted her wrist around. "It is a complicated life for a girl like her. But I think you're right, she is stronger than she appears. But I'm afraid she must begin her training in the art of magic...Not swords. Her magic will be what wins this war." Larissa said gently as she turned back to face the older man.
Vesemir hummed, nodding his head as he tapped his finger against the wooden table. "I believe this is a conversation to be had with Geralt as well. We have much to discuss." He confessed, turning around to face her. "I know it must be awkward for the pair of you, that much is obvious." Vesemir admitted as he looked over to the elf. "But he did miss you. For a long time. I know he may very well never admit it, but it's true. You were children. It's only natural that it hurt the way it did. But times are changing my dear, whatever differences you may have you will both have to put them aside. Whatever happens, you two are going to have to work together."
