Mainly based on the Netflix series, with some knowledge used from the books and games.
Chased away from her home in which she'd poured her heart and soul into, by people only seeking to destroy for no bigger purpose than establishing reputation. Tha...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-
Geralt and Myrcella rode silently, side by side on the narrow dirt road. It had been a couple of days since they left Blaviken and Geralt hadn't seen the shadow of the payment she'd promised him yet. He didn't care though; she had her own horse and supplies and she didn't talk much, so as long as she just proved herself to be useful at some point or just kept staying out of his way it was all fine in his book. ..And then she wasn't the worst company with her devilish beauty, silky smooth voice and the occasional witty comment.
"You never really mentioned where we're going." Myrcella looked at Geralt calmly as she tried to start a conversation.
"Upper Posada in Dol Blathannae." Myrcella nodded softly. Valley of Flowers, she translated in her head. Myrcella had been speaking only Elder speech in Highgarden, but she rarely used it on The Continent anymore. "–Have you been there before?"
Geralt looked at her for a second before he returned his eyes to the road, "Yes."
Myrcella smiled, "Oh really? How is it?" She asked curiously. She hadn't traveled a lot with Renfri, but she'd always known that she wanted to go to Dol Blathannae, the old Elven kingdom, at some point. "It's warm." Geralt answered shortly as he studied her, looking to be in deep thought.
"–Yes?" Myrcella asked after a couple of seconds of his weird silence and intense staring at her. "What are you?" He almost grunted.
Myrcella looked at the Witcher confused, "What do you mean?" Geralt sighed, his expression serious. "I'm a Witcher." He stated like that was supposed to explain his question. "And?" Myrcella arched a brow at him, urging him on.
"–Your powers. It's like an itch I can't scratch." He said, clearly annoyed by the fact that he couldn't tell what she was. Myrcella smiled, "I didn't think Witchers were affected by any magic?" Geralt huffed.
"You a mage?" Myrcella snickered at his somewhat flattering guess. "Not quite." She said looking at him, a small smile gracing her lips. "-But I will take that as a compliment."
"Stragobor called you a siren." The Witcher noted after some time, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Do I look like a sea monster with wings to you?" Myrcella chuckled as Geralt looked her over with a suspicious yet playful glare. "Maybe."
"Shut up." And so he did, and Myrcella did too for the rest of the way. He would uncover her secrets at some point in time, but that time wasn't now.
-
Myrcella didn't know for how long they had travelled when they finally got to the Valley of Flowers. But her arse was sore, her stomach ached for a proper meal and she was in dire need of a bath.
"How do you do this for a living." Myrcella complained as Geralt helped her down from her white-grey stallion Adhart, before tying both him and Roach to a pole near a small patch of green grass.
