Geralt is always reachable by the network. Unless it's an emergency, expect not to hear back for a few hours, if not a few days.
To talk to him in person, you'll need to be in Cadens or go to his domain, a snowy mountain fortress. Yard is open; doors are locked. If he isn't around, leave a delivery with the white wolf.
[He could leave it there, and he sort of considers doing so. If they both remembered Voleth Meir, and Ciri, and the Witchers, then clearly... but Jaskier has wanted very little to talk about any of it, despite being unable to avoid doing so. It still strikes him too deep. Even thinking of Yennefer stirs very unpleasant memories, but he cannot forget the panic in her writing. The panic he'd seen in her in Oxenfurt.
It's a bad sign when Yennefer of Vengerberg is as afraid as he. And she hasn't been answering any of his fucking messages since.]
Not long. I could barely read it; something is interfering, I suppose, with the connection. [He's not sure what. It feels easy to blame the Singularity, but was that really it? He doesn't understand why her magic is on the fritz again, if that's the issue. He thought... well, he doesn't fucking know why it's back, but he knows she came through that portal with it. Healed that Witcher. Even healed herself.]
I'm sending her something. Ah. Attempting to. Sending it to Thorne. I don't know how well it will work, but -- do you want to send her anything? A message?
[ Something interfering. It's what she has told him, too. Geralt believes her, because he believes Jaskier. But it changes little.
He takes his time answering. Does he? What good would a message do? Would she even give a shit? Would it mean anything to her? He has not forgiven her; he isn't sure he ever will. But he knows she's important to Ciri. Regardless of what she has done, she holds a place in Ciri's life, a place that Geralt made for her that night. Asked her to fill. They both did. And he also knows she's alone in Thorne. Steeped in magic and their desires to grasp hold of the Singularity's power while she has none of her own. While she does not remember too much of what she should. Of what was important.
Thorne is the last kingdom that puts him at ease, where Yennefer is concerned. Alucard told him once that Jaskier is the best thing that could happen to Hector. A tempering force. He had not disagreed then. ]
[It isn't a message for Yennefer that Geralt sends him. But when Jaskier receives it, he gives a little sigh -- of relief, more than anything. He has not completely abandoned her. No. No, he never truly believed Geralt could.
If Geralt can be so generous after a broken heart, should he not be able to do the same?]
Of course. In this matter, you can trust me.
[He's not sure how he's gotten to this point, tasked with helping a sorceress. Taking care of her. Checking up on her.
A bit of it's selfish, too. What he sends her -- the bird he's chosen -- only she will really know what it means. And, if only for a moment, he wants someone to recall that part of him. So that he may believe it still lives in him somewhere. Waiting to be utilized again for a cause.
Perhaps Yennefer is the first part of that cause.]
And should I be resting when you arrive home, don't be alarmed. I'm afraid this is going to take quite a bit of effort. You'll be very impressed, I'm sure.
[ Curiosity sends Geralt into the Horizon to retrieve her delivery. It takes about an hour before he finds time to do so and get back to her.
It both was and was not worth the wait. This is the least helpful reference he's ever received. But it is the most entertaining.
She may or may not hear his sigh from all the way in Solvunn. ]
It'll do.
[ Wait. When he opens his mouth. That applies to a good number of people for Geralt, but where Himeka is concerned, the pool shrinks considerably. She's got a greater amount of patience for nonsense than he has. ]
Himeka. Do not tell me this is the idiot with his inane fucking stories.
[ He isn't surprised others have glimpsed the growing beast, but for Geralt, it was only at Sam's behest that he wrote anything down—a supplement to the discussion each time Sam would give him that look that said Geralt lost him completely once more.
[ No reason to remove that board from its nest. Whether Sam's in or out, Geralt seemingly hasn't much problem using Sam's place as though it were nearly his own. ]
[ As promised, Geralt is there at sundown. He's found them a private corner in Sam's home at the inn, front door closed. Nearly a year in, on top of two or so months living with Sam, and Geralt's at ease making this his second home.
In exchange for supplying the liquor, Dean does, in fact, receive an overview of this fucking thing. It may or may not become apparent that, among other reasons, the notes are so lacking on his part because Geralt never needed it written in the first place. A full notebook when he splashes through swamps and mud is no more practical than a horse in the ocean—he's learned other methods of keeping his information straight. Either way, the pinned bits of parchment only scratch the surface of what he actually knows.
Much of it is theoretical, at best. And yes. He does feel far too akin to the book-clutching mage Triss sent him to which is not a fact he enjoys, but here they are. This is what happens when you learn large rocks that open gateways exist on every sphere and that the oldest one of all may be here. This is also what happens when you learn of gaps in time that span days to years. In between all the theory working, there are more straightforward pieces of information—names, dates, events, locations.
There's room for questions if Dean asks any—and likely, Dean will have to throughout, because Geralt's no better at granting complete answers unprompted even when he's specifically agreed to grant someone said answers. ]
Though I know you will lament having my presence out of your general vicinity, I am happy to inform you I have been invited to an excursion with the lovely ladies we know so well. (That is, your daughter, my lover, and Julie, who I'm sure will be extra thrilling company with the wine we're taking.)
We shall return in a few weeks, but worry not. I will be giving you constant updates.
[ The message appears scrawled on the sand as he's riding over a long familiar trail towards the Badlands. He pauses, tilting his head at it.
His answer is sent with the full understanding that it will prevent nothing. Perhaps that is the reason he even sends it in the first place. (He does, of course, wish to know what they'll be up to, even if he will not tell Jaskier this.) ]
[Perhaps it feels as if Geralt's response did something, because there is silence in return, knowing Ciri is sending him her own little note. And they will, of course, all be safe with Ciri (and with himself, he likes to think -- not because he is a fighter, but because he can grow them food no matter where they are, and the food they bring with them will never know rot.]
However, a note does come days later:]
We've made it! It was a fairly uninteresting trip, as I'm sure you can imagine, having taken it already. You'll be happy to know Mog is well behaved, and Ciri seems in relative good spirits since... since Rinwell.
I'm sorry, by the way. I know we don't --
Aquila is rather lovely, and we've settled in a nice inn room. Nadine and Julie send their regards! We're going to get "absolutely smashed" tonight, as Julie has succinctly put it. Hope you're having fun out in the hot, blistering, shitty desert!
[ A few days, and Geralt's at the halfway mark of his excursion. It's been quiet. Pleasant. The desert is sweltering, he spends most of his time on horseback or sleeping on the hard dusty ground, eating what he manages to hunt for the day, and it's exactly where he wants to be.
His answer takes longer this time. An hour, two. Might be that he's busy killing something, might be that he's resting. But it does come. ]
I know.
[ He's sorry about Hector, too.
And then: ]
Don't lose your damn pet in the ocean. Gryphons can't swim.
[ This message goes unanswered—a sense he may have intended to, and simply let it slip by. A day or two later, though, and this time, in rare form, Geralt is the one who reaches out first.
No context or explanation accompanies his statement. ]
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