An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 10/17
Fandom: The Witcher (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen/Tissaia de Vries
Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen, Marti Södergren, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Additional Tags: Whumptober 2022, Torture, magical torture, Spoilers for The Witcher (TV) Season 2, The Way You Shake and Shiver, Poor Unfortunate Souls, Seizurefic, Waking up disoriented, Silent Panic Attack, Everything Hurts and I'm Dying, breaking point, repeatedly passing out, Fetal position, Catatonic, Muffled Screams, headache, hair grabbing, Head trauma, Defiance, Please don't touch me, You Better Start Talking, coughing up blood, Screams From Across The Hall, The Very Noisy Night, Witcher fic, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Voice, Tossing and turning, Withdrawal, shaking hands, no way out, No One's Coming
Series: Part 1 of Sewer pals
Summary: Tissaia is trying to extract information from the Nilfgaardian prisoner in the Aretuza dungeons with Vilgefortz's help. Cahir is not having a good time ... (Lucky for him, Marti Södergren is a dedicated healer.)
Whumptober Prompts:
No. 21: Coughing up blood
No. 22: Withdrawal
No. 31: Comfort
The high-pitched beeping of the wooden box tears her from her well-deserved morning nap. Again. Marti groans. The shittiest of shit ideas, indeed. Next time she will just ignore any call for help by teleprojection, she swears to herself. Maybe she should get one of these magical firewalls that warp the signal so badly that nobody can understand a thing? Then she will be able to just stay at home with her cat and the occasional human lover and ignore the rest of the world ...
However, as much as she hates the prospect of having to walk down to the dungeons for the umpteenth time, she cannot ignore the urgent alarm. It would totally go against her ethos of vocation. And, in spite of what some jealous sorceresses might whisper behind her back, healing is her vocation, has always been ever since she was a little girl, even before the slightest hint of magic manifested itself. The dedicated healer sits up with another groan, reaches for the box on the nightstand next to her bed and pushes the button to quickly silence it before having a closer look. Again it shows a far too rapid heart rate. It cannot possibly be another nightmare? The sedative ought to prevent any such episode for a good while longer. But what else could it be? Well, she will soon find out. After once more having mastered the long miles of pointless trudging down into the very bowels of Aretuza, curtesy of the headmistress. Thank you very much, Tissaia de Vries ...
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
The prisoner does not look good. He is more pallid than ever, wheezing and trembling worse than before, and, besides the scarlet drops of fresh blood on them, the man's lips display the tell-tale bluish discolouration of cyanosis. Darn. Marti hunkers down next to the sick Nilfgaardian to feel his temperature. There is a big dark stain on the mattress next to his face. Blood. Not good, no. Has his pneumonia worsened despite the medication?
Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42355635/chapters/108878919
