The White Wolf

    hello! this is an independent Geralt of Rivia rp blog, penned by Rhi. face claim is of course the lovely Henry Cavill. mun is 25+ plus so there will be nsfw content, but it will be tagged nsfw.

     this blog is primarily show based, with game canon. adult themes will be present so please don’t be surprised! 

    selective. sometimes mutually exclusive. my queue is set to run 4-5 posts a day so that i can try to keep up, as i often have upwards of 30 drafts. if i’ve kept you waiting for a long time, please feel free to shoot me a message. but please also keep in mind that i can sometimes prioritise threads that i have the most motivation for so that i can keep my muse flowing.

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❝ mm, you don’t even know the half of it. ❞ bottom lip trembles dangerously as the little witch considers the day she’s had, settling into a pretty pout. ❝ i ache all over. ❞ she doesn’t elaborate, rolling her shoulders back and settling in with a hum, actually quiet for once in her life. It doesn’t last very long. Blue eyes gaze upon his form with clear appreciation– doesn’t even try to hide it, and Katie can’t help the coy smile that tugs the corners of full lips upwards. She’s the picture of wide-eyed innocence (though she’s anything but), peering up at him through those long, dark lashes of hers. 

❝ help me wash my hair ? ❞  

It draws a surprised look from her- how easily he ANSWERS things. She doesn’t- never has, never will- it’s against her very nature.  She doesn’t give something unless it gets her something in return- even if that something is small, it must be something. 

“Better than the forest floor,” she agrees. “Perhaps not better than up in a tree on nights where the stars are brightest. But that’s me.” Her head tips to the side, watching him as he looks at her fingers- but she doesn’t stop the movement. 

It’s a beat- a rhythm. Not what the bard in the corner hums, but something in her own head. 

“Admittedly, I don’t think I expected you to answer questions so easily,” Muninn says then, taking another sip of her own and then eyeing her food with- something like trepidation.  It’s often a fifty-fifty, with mortal cooking and if she’ll actually enjoy any of it, but she takes a bite regardless, uncaring or trying to be, and grey eyes lift once more. 

“Witchers are often- mistrusted, from what I understand. Though admittedly I don’t really understand the why of it- and don’t think I want to. I’m rather enjoying drawing my own conclusions.” A pause, another slow blink. 

“Though you’re the only one I’ve met, so I don’t much think that would let me make judgements on the whole. That’s a fool’s gambit.”

      Geralt notices the surprised expression on her features, of course, but he doesn’t comment on it, for now. instead, he just continues to study her absently, taking a sip of his drink. she’s curious-- he hasn’t quite worked out what or who she is.  

    ❝ i’d say so. ❞ he hums, setting his tankard down with a soft clunk before he takes a bite of his food. in truth, it’s been quite some time since Geralt has slept up in a tree, but he does remember some beautiful evenings spent up there.  

    ❝ it’s not like you’re asking me anything personal. ❞ he points out with a half shrug, drawing his gaze back toward the woman sitting opposite him from where he’d briefly glances around the inn.  ❝ some things don’t need to be kept secret. ❞ 

      she looks a little unsure about the food, but he doesn’t make any judgements as to why that might be. after all, inns don’t ALWAYS have the best meals available, but they’re often a little better than what you’d have to make yourself out in the wild. he takes another bite of his food, before she starts talking about witchers again and he feels a small smile pull at the corners of his mouth.  

sweat formed on his brow –– tomorrow ? tomorrow !? he wasn’t quite ready to be running off head first into another fire so quickly ! yet … what choice did he have ? there was no place safer than a witchers side . any monster ( or mortal ) who crossed their path with ill will  &  intent will find a swift end to his blades . 

vis took a deep breath –– trying his best to emulate a strong ego .  yennefer was one who came to mind when he thought of being strong . all he needed to hold his head high . 

❝ tomorrow thats … f-fine . i suppose finding these little … beasties of yours is more important . ❞ at least he assumed the man was hunting –– what was a witcher when he wasn’t hunting ? suppose just a man . one who knew how to kill . the least vis could do was lend his chaos to him . 

❝ –– my name is vis of  … aretuza ❞ that would have to do . ❝  &  yours ? or am i to call you ‘ beastie ’ too ?❞

      Geralt lifts a brow slightly as he eyes the way that sweat begins to beat on his brow, but he supposes he shouldn’t be all that surprised. this guy doesn’t seem like he’s been on too many excursions, perhaps he’s just a bit nervous about it.  

    ❝ we leave it a few days, they’ll be much harder to track. ❞ he explains, hoping that it’ll go at least somewhere toward helping the man deal with this. they don’t really have the time to be hanging around, waiting for him to get his head around it. 

“HOW many times have courts specifically asked for me, hm? You’ve been there. You know. I know you know. I know–” For once, it was the Witcher rendering the bard silent. Caught off guard, Jaskier stopped in his tracks for a heartbeat or two. A grin was back on his face before long, a laugh ringing out as he hoisted his lute higher over his shoulder and hurried to catch the other. “I’m astounded it’s taken you this long to ask the question let alone work out the answer.” 

                              “Well, I mean, I think so? Apparently it talks to you. Ya know, like the evil Queens in Snow White. God, I hope it’s Charlize Theron. God she’s hot.” Hero was momentarily distracted…..then she came back. “I’m letting it to some dude in robes and a very dramatic hat, could be a wizard. That’s what they look like in my world…..generally. We don’t count Harry Potter. I’m not keeping the mirror I’m selling it for lots of coins.”

.

      to be completely honest, Geralt has no idea what she’s talking about-- she’s making references to things like he’s supposed to get them. he doesn’t. his brows lift just a little bit as she continues talking, almost rambling, about wizards.  ❝ you’re selling the mirror to a wizard. ❞ is about all he discerns from that, keeping his brows lifted a little.  ❝ how did you get here? ❞

no he didn’t, but she liked to be precise. to make sure. to count the measure of each and every job she took - at least to make sure nothing that didn’t deserve to die was caught in the crossfire. “ well one of us has to be the forward one, “ she points out, “ or else this will be bore me to the grave before any of it has the chance to.”

.

      Geralt just lifts a brow slightly as she speaks, his gaze drifting across toward her for a moment. she’s a strange one, he has to admit. curious, though.  ❝ wonderful. i’ll try my very best not to bore you. ❞ he quips lazily, his eyes absently scanning their surroundings as they walk.

Geralt’s hold on her always made her feel SAFE, and more than that: WANTED. Fingers buried in his hair as her arms circled his shoulders, keeping him so close that she could feel his heart beating in his chest, and he could feel hers too. It was pounding as she poured herself into him, a hum escaping as she managed to pull back–not that she wanted to. More than anything, the sorceress wanted to get lost in him, but she needed to search his eyes for a sign, and she rested her forehead against his as her fingers tugged lightly at his shirt so she could slide her fingertips underneath and trail along his skin. “I missed this…”

“sure, of course. i never get used to anything.” maria snickers. if even half of jaskier’s stories are true, geralt is an absolute softy even when he’s pretending to ignore someone. “oh, now that’s cold. you know he’s written dozens of excellent songs. some of them even made you money.” she smiles back at him, starting to walk along the path. “so, how’s the witchering going?”

He laughed, and the sound rumbled out of him and warmed her heart, her belly churning pleasantly as the words reached her ears. It was one thing to think it, but to have him say it, meant the world to her, and she found herself moving to sit on his lap, fingers tangling in his hair as her nose brushed against his own. “I wouldn’t count you among mine either,” she whispered before her lips claimed his and her arms circled around him.

“ Fast?         Doesn’t that narrow it down, ” as she had maintained before, she wasn’t concerned, but she didn’t exactly like walking into a situation without knowing what she was in for. 

“ How many has it killed? ”

    ❝ mm, well, they’re not exactly the most perceptive bunch. ❞ he shrugs, glancing over at her for a brief moment before he refocuses up ahead as they walk.

“ The fun is in the drama. ”

Yennefer can’t help but look back ( again ), catching his eyes for a moment and sharing in that wry smile. “ Besides a long, hot bath and a decent meal? ” 

    ❝ of course you’d think that. ❞

“You are so very sceptical, Geralt.” The bard observed, fully confident that there were no possible circumstances under which the Witcher would leave him behind. “One of these days its going to bite you firmly in that lovely bottom of yours.”

                                 “Alright!!!” Hero huffed “You’re no fun. I just stole this very fancy gold mirror from the town over there, the crazy mayor was practically licking his reflection. It was disgusting.” she shivered with annoyance before she spoke again. “I was told to be careful around witchers…..didn’t think I’d meet one so soon….you guys are hotter than they made you sound.”

.

    ❝ you stole a mirror? ❞ all those random stories... for a mirror? his brows lift upwards a little bit, before he shakes his head a little.  ❝ a human stealing from another human isn’t really of any concern to a witcher. ❞ her comments, folding his arms over his chest as he ignores the final comment, for now.  ❝ we don’t exactly have a large fan base. you can keep your mirror, it’s of no concern to me. ❞

     “And miss this delightful romp in the countryside with you?” A small smile makes its way into her voice, even if her features remain relatively unchanged. It’s good for her, on occasion, to travel in mundane fashion. Wouldn’t want the portal to be tracked to their destination… but in truth, it’s a rare opportunity to spend this time together, and she’s grateful for it.

      ‘Mundane’ isn’t true, either. Yennefer has a magic tent with a large interior and an actual bed, for instance. Some things are non-negotiable. Her voice calls out to him again at his protest, still fanning herself. “I really must insist, Geralt!”

     She adjusts to stay in the shade and keep him roughly in her sights. Rather appreciates that he doesn’t wander, if only for the view. It’s too far to make out the details of his scars, but not the narrow cut of his waist and broad shoulders. The sun reflects off the clean white of his hair after he dunks it in the river, granting a sheen like liquid mercury. A small part of her wishes for a creature of lesser challenge to appear if only to watch Geralt dance with it to death. But then she’d feel obligated to get up and help.

     In the interlude, at a leisurely pace Yennefer coaxes the unnourished tree to sprout a thicker canopy and encourages the wind to rustle by more frequently, until the heat of the day is kept at bay by shade and breeze. She also conjures two glasses and an illusion of that cold, crisp white wine within— lending the flavor and temperature to the real water they carry.

    ❝ oh? so you are having a wonderful time, then? ❞ he teases, unable to help himself. if it weren’t for the heat she probably would be having a better time. but he doesn’t really blame her-- she’s used to portalling wherever she needs to go, and she’s stuck on a three day ride instead. still-- Roach hasn’t been left behind, so he’s happy.

      he knows that she’s watching him, but he’s not remotely uncomfortable with that. he takes his time washing himself so that his clothes have more time to dry, lathering the soap into his skin to rid himself of all the grime. once clean, he submerges himself in the water again so that he can wash the rest of the suds off of him, and then he’s striding out of the water and back into the hot sun. 

      when he glances back toward Yen, she’s got a glass in her hand and a light breeze fluttering through her hair, which makes him smile for a moment. at least she’s making herself more comfortable. he checks his clothes and finds them mostly dry, so he gives himself a little longer to air dry as he rings out his hair.