[She leads the way, sure footed and pulling at Geralt's hand as though she were the larger of the two. He has a firm hold. Yennefer glances back, John following suit. This might be easy.
Right before the new corridor the Sculptor stops him.]
Fuck.
[Now leading back to stand behind John. The Sculptor has a vague gesture to the man's personage.]
We must be away urgently, you can make friends later if you so wish.
[The man tutters and waves away her comment, for the moment simply fixated on their strange mage friend.]
[ It's telling how much ground the Witcher offers the sorceress by how she pulls him through the crowd. He is perfectly capable of making his own way but he finds no upset in allowing her to take the lead. Geralt's head tilts in interest as he listens to the mostly one sided conversation between the mage and the Sculptor. So he senses it too, but why? ]
Nothing special about me, mate. But if you're wanting to get friendly, I've got business first.
[ Trying to shrug off the connection. The touch. He pulls an arm free, trying to hide how shaken he is. The Sculptor looks between the three. ]
[It's not as careless of a gesture as it seems. She knows he can keep up. He has in more than walking. If Jaskier's music fancies her to be a storm than he is a mountain that weathers everything, it's an imperfect metaphor. She is not a poet. She just knows she can trust him, no matter how far apart they go, there is always a way back.]
John this is our most talented and skilled architect and sculptor. You may know is work better than you think.
[Yennefer's hand ghosts for his but remembers the last time they touched and thinks better]
...what is he? Explain and be quick abut it.
[Because she is bracing herself for some painful truth that Witchers are gifted a second chance for a legacy.]
[ John isn't here for any of this. He's not into the whole cloak and dagger bollocks. They can do what they like, he's seen where Yennefer is headed, he'll go on first.
Without them if he has to. Geralt huffs in mild irritation as John shoulders away from both of them, giving a terse glance at the Sculptor. ]
[Dog's balls. Is he really going to just hurry off? Yennefer's own tolerance for this--for John not being patient enough to wait, the Sculptor stopping them at all and herself for thinking that she had control of any happenings in Aretuza-- is all wearing her thin.
Her hand is still in the Witcher's grasp. She should send Geralt after John. Or at least she would have if she wasn't so thoroughly confused.]
Mine? What on earth do you mean by that?
[Her hair begins to lift and she can feel sparks gather at her fingertips of her free hand.]
Can you not see that--?
[Gods she is with Geralt? Does this mean destiny is serving something else? If it is, she does not want it. With or without his stupid wish, this is her choice.]
[ Yes, he is. He's already been here far longer than he's wanted to. He's got a lovely man at home waiting for him to not be stuck in this cocked up fantasy story. Geralt reaches out to try and stop him but he's gone before he can break away from Yennefer.
Then he feels the surge of power that accompanies the Sculptor's words. He continues. ]
He's of your line. And his. It shouldn't be possible but he is proof, living and breathing proof of it.
[ John goes down the passageways, letting his intuition and the taste of magic alone guide him. He can sense the power in this place. The way it curls in one spot in particular.
[Of your line. They are words she had only ever dreamed to hear. The elation and confusion together strike her dumb for a handful of seconds. Geralt's voice and urgency return her to the moment. They can't have a foreign mage run umoored here.
He's their child.
Their future.]
Hurry.
[Without another word to the Sculptor, she pulls at the Witcher, guiding him through the crowd to the narrow corridors beyond the large hall the throng takes up.]
[ Geralt is quick to follow before the tug at his arm to guide him. He only relents in pace because she is familiar with this place and he is not. John is already out of view, but Geralt can smell him, a difficult task with all the pomp and circumstance and ridiculous luxuries afforded by all those currently in the room.
His own pulse is quicker than normal, a mixture of excitement and dread that drives him. He thinks of Stregobor and what he might do should he find out about this. The very thought makes his blood boil. ]
If he knows others may yet find out. This place is too dangerous for him.
[Bless and curse the Witcher. He is right to warn of danger. That's his purpose. And it comes from care as much as survival. As they scurry through the party, the winding, older passages leading to the center of the tower, the source, clearly John is being pulled along by the sheer power.
The quiet buzzes in her ears as they finally break away. Torches ignite as they pass through the darkened halls. John is nowhere in sight.]
Fuck.
[They still must go. They must press on. There are too many here with agendas of their own to exploit this new truth.
The archmages have deemed their meeting adjourned and spill from one of the disappearing and reappearing rooms and wings. Of course John is there as they begin to file out. Why would he not be? Old, analytical eyes squint at him.]
[ John has no love for the way the old, wrinkled types squint at him and try to peel him apart by gaze alone. It sets his teeth on edge and he's already moving again before Stregebor comes out. If anything, he wants as much distance between himself and that other old bastard as he can get. Makes his skin crawl, that one.
So he's back to following the magic, letting it guide him through the ancient halls, feeling the lick of it like fire on his fingertips. A whisper of promise that tugs him along like a thread he can't see.
Unbeknownst to him, Stregebor watches his retreat with interest then looks over as Yennefer and Geralt arrive. The smile that turns up the corners of his mouth is cold and knowing. Geralt only barely manages to swallow down a snarl. ]
We're wasting time with this useless dance around the rest of them. Stregebor senses something, we need to get to John quickly. Is there another way to him?
[ He doesn't care what rules might be in place to prevent modes of travel if there are any. The important thing is getting to the young mage alone in this dangerous place. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Right before the new corridor the Sculptor stops him.]
Fuck.
[Now leading back to stand behind John. The Sculptor has a vague gesture to the man's personage.]
We must be away urgently, you can make friends later if you so wish.
[The man tutters and waves away her comment, for the moment simply fixated on their strange mage friend.]
You truly are something special.
John. This is John. And he must be away.
no subject
Nothing special about me, mate. But if you're wanting to get friendly, I've got business first.
[ Trying to shrug off the connection. The touch. He pulls an arm free, trying to hide how shaken he is. The Sculptor looks between the three. ]
You don't yet realize what he is, do you?
no subject
John this is our most talented and skilled architect and sculptor. You may know is work better than you think.
[Yennefer's hand ghosts for his but remembers the last time they touched and thinks better]
...what is he? Explain and be quick abut it.
[Because she is bracing herself for some painful truth that Witchers are gifted a second chance for a legacy.]
no subject
Without them if he has to. Geralt huffs in mild irritation as John shoulders away from both of them, giving a terse glance at the Sculptor. ]
He's yours. Can't you tell?
no subject
Her hand is still in the Witcher's grasp. She should send Geralt after John. Or at least she would have if she wasn't so thoroughly confused.]
Mine? What on earth do you mean by that?
[Her hair begins to lift and she can feel sparks gather at her fingertips of her free hand.]
Can you not see that--?
[Gods she is with Geralt? Does this mean destiny is serving something else? If it is, she does not want it. With or without his stupid wish, this is her choice.]
no subject
Then he feels the surge of power that accompanies the Sculptor's words. He continues. ]
He's of your line. And his. It shouldn't be possible but he is proof, living and breathing proof of it.
[ John goes down the passageways, letting his intuition and the taste of magic alone guide him. He can sense the power in this place. The way it curls in one spot in particular.
Geralt cuts in: ]
Yennefer, we should leave this one and find John.
no subject
He's their child.
Their future.]
Hurry.
[Without another word to the Sculptor, she pulls at the Witcher, guiding him through the crowd to the narrow corridors beyond the large hall the throng takes up.]
no subject
His own pulse is quicker than normal, a mixture of excitement and dread that drives him. He thinks of Stregobor and what he might do should he find out about this. The very thought makes his blood boil. ]
If he knows others may yet find out. This place is too dangerous for him.
no subject
The quiet buzzes in her ears as they finally break away. Torches ignite as they pass through the darkened halls. John is nowhere in sight.]
Fuck.
[They still must go. They must press on. There are too many here with agendas of their own to exploit this new truth.
The archmages have deemed their meeting adjourned and spill from one of the disappearing and reappearing rooms and wings. Of course John is there as they begin to file out. Why would he not be? Old, analytical eyes squint at him.]
no subject
So he's back to following the magic, letting it guide him through the ancient halls, feeling the lick of it like fire on his fingertips. A whisper of promise that tugs him along like a thread he can't see.
Unbeknownst to him, Stregebor watches his retreat with interest then looks over as Yennefer and Geralt arrive. The smile that turns up the corners of his mouth is cold and knowing. Geralt only barely manages to swallow down a snarl. ]
We're wasting time with this useless dance around the rest of them. Stregebor senses something, we need to get to John quickly. Is there another way to him?
[ He doesn't care what rules might be in place to prevent modes of travel if there are any. The important thing is getting to the young mage alone in this dangerous place. ]