HEART | Geralt

01

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"Yen!" A girl with hair a shade lighter than raven black and curled to show the beauty the seventeen year old had, called out. Even at this young age, her scarlett eyes, rosy-pale skin and sweet, innocent smile had the men of her village promising their young lads her hand in marriage in only a few short years, if not already. "Yen?" The teenager squinted her eyes, her hands raising a little to shield her from the sun that shinned relentlessly on her family's small farm. 

The chickens clucked, bopping about and trying to find food, something that made the seventeen year old girl sigh. Yennefer had not yet fed the chickens, much to the girl's dismay. With a berated huff, the girl stalked forwards. Her figure was curved magnificentally, enough to catch the men's attention as she walked by. Something that was a gift and a curse.

She knelt down, her hand going to stroke one of the chickens as it strode up to her, but the sloshing of a bucket and the heavy footsteps that came shortly after made the girl look up and beam a smile.

"Hey, little sister." She greeted, standing to her full height and walking towards the girl that had just arrived. Violet eyes stared at her, hair as dark as the night sky and a crooked back - which in reality was a twisted spine - barely called for the girl's attention.

"Azalea." Yennefer breathed out, a small smile gracing her features before she turned to continue walking. The dirt squished under her feet as she made her way towards the pig pen.

"Get out of there, girl!" Azalea snapped her head towards the door of their home where her red eyes met the ferocious glare of her father's.

"She's alright, Da-"

"Stay out of this you!" Her father growled out, raising his hand and bringing it down on Azalea's face with much force. Her head snapped to the side, an involuntary gasp leaving her lips.

"I-I can do it." Yennefer grunted in determination, trying her best to pick up the bucket to feed the pigs that were huddled in a corner. Azalea was left in the chicken coop, her hand softly grazing her throbbing cheek as tears threatened to fall. As quick as the words had left Yennefer's lips, their father had suddenly stopped fighting for the bucket. Yen had fallen down, the pig food covering almost her whole front, face and part of her hair.

"Yenny!" Azalea rushed forwards, going to help her sister to stand and get as much of the pig food off as she could, but their father grabbed her arm tightly, might more tightly than one would expect.

"A man'll be here soon for you, wench." His alcohol infused breath fanned over Azalea's face, making her squirm uncomfortably. She was weak, she couldn't get out of her father's strong grip. She could only watch Yennefer helplessly.

The sounds of a horse neighing, its hooves clacking against the pebbled roads as it approached their small farm gained the family's attention. The beuatiful brown coated horse came to a stop and a woman in a fine blue dress, red cape with fur around the neckline, dismounted form the small carriage she had sat on. Her brown hair was styled professionally, and her face was youthful.

By looks alone, you could only assume she would be a decade older than Azalea.

"How much for a pig?" The woman asked, staring at the father for a moment as he rested his hands on his old, worn belt.

"They'll be at market tomorrow." The man pushed Azalea back, the girl tumbling but managed to catch herself on the fence.

"Well, i'm here today." Was the woman's curt response.

"Ten marks." The father answered, not looking away from the woman that seemed to have stumbled upon their farm. Azalea couldn't help but feel as though the woman hadn't simply "stumbled" upon the farm, she was there for a reason. And Azalea felt like it wasn't for a pig.