abraxas:: INBOX

[gynvael]

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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.

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[gynvael]

[ He lets her take his hand. His fingers intertwine with hers, and his eyes are soft. He thinks he can grow used to holidays done without the dinners and crowds. ]

Is that right? You need to show me how to laze.

[ He's only half-joking, though it's true he can't say he's ever lazed for a full day simply eating and doing nothing. Perhaps he'll try it. Just the once.

In the meanwhile, he does end up sleeping, eyes falling shut not long after she finally dozes. ]

[princessvegas]

[ Well, in theory, there probably would have been a dinner if they hadn't all just been shanghai'd onto a cruise. But if she organizes next year, it'll only be people that Geralt will actually want to be around -- their Cadens family. (She won't let Sam invite all his randoms that crowd up the place. He can have his own dinner for that.)

This is a pretty ideal Christmas, though, she thinks. ]

It's pretty complicated, but I think you'll pick it up quick. [ She squeezes his hand as she teases him, then settles into the easy silence. He is warm and solid next to her, and the ache in her head ebbs back some, the noise becoming muffled as it does. His breathing is a steady rhythm that makes her eyelids heavy, and it's maybe the greatest Christmas miracle that she sleeps for more than an hour or two at a time. ]