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Sleeping Beauty Reloaded	By : dschinny Category: +S through Z > Witcher 2, The: Assassins of Kings Views: 1939 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Witcher, this is purely for fun, and not profit

Chapter List
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Two Magicians’, one Witcher’s and a Leshen’s Conference
Thronebreaker - Duke of Dogs / Gascon Theme Extended (HD)
https://youtu.be/FrSDMSTRz7o
The witcher and Hector passed the rest-stone where the corpse of the merchant and his donkey still stank. The road climbed up the slope and trees replaced the marshland bushes and grasses. Uphill was the village, but staying there was probably not such a good idea with an angry mage on their heels. In the meadows on the far side was a hay stack that would do if they did not insist on a fire.
But once they rode around the garden fences of the village, they were spotted by one of the Mayor’s older sons. He was half drunk and greeted them happily. “You’ve got a rotten timing for a witcher! Sorry to say so, but missing your own party like that and let the girls dance without you,” he swayed a bit.
Hector interfered, “Thank your Mayor for his advice to find the witcher. We won’t invite ourselves, just stay in the hay stack over there if you don’t mind.” – “I’m sure he does, everybody wants to hear the story how you killed the foglet, please come, I’m sure we can still find something to eat. Or to drink, at least. Afterwards, you can stay in the barn again. It’s warmer there.”
“Hm.” The witcher said, but then accepted the invitation. He hated to be imprecise about the foglet that had been actually two. Telling half truths was like lying; therefore he kept the narration to a minimum and hid behind a jug of beer. Thankfully, the Mayor didn’t allow the village’s youth to pester them. Hector certainly looked beaten.
The witcher elbowed the hunter who sat on the bench beside him. “Forget her. It’s your admiration that allows her to get into your mind and manipulate you from there. But her beauty is just an illusion. All those witches, they were as ugly as they come. Your wife is more beautiful, living the way she was born. Don’t admire. Think of somebody else. See their beautiful illusion as a painted canvas if you must, but do not admire. Monitor the feelings inside of you instead; be amazed of your own bodily reaction if you must. But don’t put your mind on them in awe if you don’t want to be controlled,” he counseled the huntsman.
Hector sighed. “C’mon, we gotta turn in. I can see you are tired. Drink up, pal.”
The Possession Of Jarl Udalryk
https://youtu.be/tfIJWW91_uc
They had just withdrawn to the hayloft as a thunder rolled outside, a portal opened like a swirl of yellow flames and a beautiful sorceress stepped onto the middle of the village square doing the deus-ex-machina-act in front of the central fire basket.
The witcher was used such appearances, but jumped from the hayloft to ground level to open the gate. “Hello Mosaik,” Nil admirari, the witcher repeated in his mind. The villagers gaped. Tomorrow, there would be rumors of the White Wolf in black armor meeting the fair maiden in the ice crystal robes. Problem was, Mosaik’s childhood lay several painful decades in the past, she wasn’t shy anymore as she had been when they left Kerack. If she had some morals left - he still had to find out.
Nil admirari.
The sorceress strode over “Greetings, Geralt.” She had added style, her robe revealed more, her fair hair was longer and so smooth it gleamed in the light of the fire place. Even in the dim light he could see the imperfections, see through the illusion of beauty. To a witcher, all women were beautiful - because to his keen eye, no one would ever be perfect and if… such a theoretic possibility of a woman ever existed, why should she smile at a witcher, an imperfect product of magic mutations full of scars?
He was imperfect and Geralt was at ease with that. It had been difficult after he split with Yen, he was somewhat addicted to her illusion of near perfection. But Iola had taught him a few things when she came to him wrapped in nothing but a nymphet’s illusion one night. Afterwards, he had seen her as a regular human being. Physically he had not considered her attractive the next day. …but she found him and listened to him without a word. There was not a trace of fear or disgust in her and he felt that she… cared. After talking to her, he experienced that he felt well, very well indeed, truly relieved.
Iola went into trance when she touched him the second time. While she saw things he did not want to know, he had realized that life was too short to chase after visions and illusions. He could enjoy the real deal again.
“You haven’t learned ‘decent’ yet, have you?” the witcher commented dryly at the woman popping out of nowhere. – “It is safer to stay away from structures,” Mosaik admitted her lack of control. She was still a beginner. Opening portals was easier than safely controlling them. – “Come in,” the witcher let her pass and then closed the gate behind her.
Up on the hayloft, Hector gaped. The witch had hurt him, hurt him badly …but she was so, oh, yes, her mere looks got something moving down there. He could take that home. If he must. It was alright, he could accept that. He rolled on his back because he preferred to look away, to be alone. He was so glad that Balon was at home with his wife who was already was expecting him. She would smile when he came home. He loved her smile that was no illusion. He loved their son. He loved being together. This was the real deal. He closed his eyes und shut everything else out.
Nil admirari, the witcher thought. “I have missed you, Geralt,” Mosaik turned on him so he was backed against the closed gate and touched his armored forearm. “Hm,” he shrugged her off before she could get any closer, “You chose a ridiculous way to act on that emotion.”
“You misunderstood me. I noticed a magic anomaly and acted on that. Now that I am here, I can say it is not only you who emits it.” – “We are not alone. Hector is here. I despise what you did to him.” – “Don’t worry, he’s a grown man. He will get over the inconvenience. Time was crucial.” – “You hurt him. Don’t you sorceresses ever wonder what will come back to you one day if you stick to that sort of behavior?” – “His thoughts were loud enough; I don’t like being lied at. Magic anomalies can be the source of true evil. Last time you juggled with one, Geralt, you destroyed half of the city of Rinde.” – “That was Yennefer of Vengerberg trying to control a djinn.”
“A djinn you found and set free.” – “Nothing would have happened if she just let it leave.” - ”I don’t have to do any more triangulation. What are you transporting?” – “I don’t know yet.” – “Witchers! Show me.” – “It is not of your concern.” – “Because I’m just a Dwimveandra? You believe that I still lack the competence to do something with you?” – “Because it is mine.” That word coming from a witcher carried the growl of a last warning. – “Maybe we can strike a deal.” – “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe you would rather negotiate with Yennefer. I happen to be on my way to Vengerberg to the practicum we agreed just after you sent me back to Kerack. I hoped you would be glad to see my professional development. But it seems that my efforts did not change a thing.” No, she would not tell him how much that hurt. How many nights she lay awake and thought about them. Fantasizing what could happen if she just put up with her mistress for another year, and another. That she could see him again afterwards. On the other hand, Geralt had spent the time at ease, satisfying his needs with just anyone, even dirty old slaves. “With the experience you have shared, Yennefer will be happy to see you. And as an experienced mage, she will certainly be able to counsel you, tackle that anomaly and follow all the strings attached to it.”
“You’re exaggerating things. But since you are here already, you can have a look before you continue your journey to your new mistress… If that is what you want,” he pushed away from the gate to the partition where the Roach stood beside the donkey. The leshen root was stored under his saddle. He lifted that away.
“I wouldn’t mind to have a look, at all the goods.” Mosaik smiled. His butt was as shapely as she remembered. “I’m not one to kiss and tell…” ‘if I can avoid it,’ she added inwardly
She had spotted his weakness and behaved as if she was addicted to that small part of his personality. But greed and bribery would not get her there. ‘I’m not a gigolo,’ he thought. He had unpacked the leshen root to make sure it was dry and did not sprout. He flipped the canvas aside and showed her a slice of the root that looked like an ordinary piece of a graying wood trunk.
Mosaik held out her palm, rubbed it over the slice, inhaled deeply, concentration showed on her face, her blue eyes were closed. He had seen her like that before. When she sat on him and did the same thing with his chest, feeling for his scars. Nil admirari, he repeated in his mind.
“I see,” she stood. “That definitely is the anomaly I felt. It is in the water, also. Lytta taught me a lot about water. It’s meddling with the Pontar already. It feels like pain, but also like raw power. It could be used for healing, even as a mutagen.”
“It’s a root that sprouted a leshen. I’m not going to leave it to sorcerers to experiment with it like in Rissberg.”
“Isn’t it a hassle and a burden to keep that safe and dry on your journey?”
“I have seen enough ‘hassle’ caused by mages. I will take it away or destroy it.”
“So you did not manage to destroy it yet,” the Dwimveandra chuckled, “I am surprised - finally there is something you did not manage to destroy,” Mosaik straightened up to push against him, “and you are very annoyed by the fact,” she smirked. “Where do you plan to take it?”
“Kaer Morhen. The wolf school got its own laboratory. If Vesemier needs support by a mage, he’ll make a few calls, but I doubt it.”
“It’s a long way to Kaer Morhen. And you’ve left something behind.” She knew his weakness and dropped in the bait casually.
“Yes.” He simply said. She said nothing, knowing the game. He would not lie. He got his principles and he was damn obtuse at times. “…and?” he finally added. That’s when she knew she got him, got him good.
“I can help you to get this to Kaer Morhen. And help you to get back to Midville.”
“I hate portals.”
“I did not mean to transport you. Or your horse. That would be too much for me considering the extreme distance. But I could take the net weight and your letter to Vesemier. For a fee.”
“What do you have in mind?” - “A quarter of that leshen root.” - “To take it to Vengerberg? I don’t think so.” - “It would be my personal item.” - “Nothing is personal between a mage and a leashed apprentice. So far, no one even answered my question if you use muffles.” - “No need for that. It’s about trust.” – “That is the problem. I don’t trust you. Or Yen. Or Lytta. Because you have proven that you don’t deserve my trust.”
“Now I am hurt. I didn’t do anything bad to you. You left me.” – “True. For your own good. You have developed your magical abilities in the past years. I could be proud of you. But you did not develop in a likable way. I can tell because you took advantage of Hector, interrogated him brutally.”
“Oh, c’mon.” – “What?” – “That wasn’t a big deal.” – “To him, it was. I’ve got my principles, Mosaik.” – “Principles are a luxury.” – “You are right.” he sounded agreeable, but he was immovable as a wall about it.
“How are you going to pay me otherwise?” She had made sure he would not get away because she was backed up by Yen. Now he could either give up valuable property or forfeit his damn principles and get laid.
“If you transport the three quarters to Kaer Morhen with my letter, I will allow you to study that quarter of a leshen root - not in Vengerberg but in Ellander, under Nenneke’s tutelage.”
“No. I’ve got a contract, too, I cannot forfeit - with Yen”
“We can store your slice in Kaer Morhen in the mean time or trust Nenneke to keep it safe until your arrival.”
“We would have to ask her first. Do you have a mirror?”
“A small one,” the witcher agreed and produced the palm sized mirror he used for shaving and light signals.
“A very small one,” Mosaik wrinkled her equally small nose as she rested it against the pommel of Roache’s saddle. Nenneke would probably just listen to them. As a head mistress, she had the ability to pass through whatever the mirror’s size was. Was she prepared to enter negotiations with the high priestess of Melitele? She should be. “Ready when you are.” The witcher nodded and stood aside while Mosaik raised her hands. Blue light gathered on her palms as she chanted the incantation.
Conclave of Lords
https://youtu.be/8vEu6HYEtpU
The picture of the mirror changed and Geralt swatted beside the saddle to get into the picture. “Good evening Nenneke. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you Geralt. I’ve got a chatty plant visiting me and already wondered when you’d call.”
He noticed a purple flower behind her ear, like a variation of a scarlet bean. “A plant that talks?” the witcher was dumbfounded. Nenneke had a way to get him there in no time. Always.
Nenneke winked at someone in her office, “Come here …yes, I am sure it is save.” A leshen stepped into the picture, a leshen so tiny she didn’t even have to change the frame of the picture. “Say hello,” the leshen was really close to her but Nenneke just smiled. It… winked?!
Geralt could not hear a word, but Nenneke seemed to have no problems to communicate with it. Iola hadn’t been talking, either. This particular leshen wasn’t grey or green, but of reddish color. Geralt lifted his hand to return the greetings. It was always a good idea to be polite when talking to Nenneke, “Where did you get it from?”
“My little friend here came over from Midville, in Aedirn near the Temerian border. You happen to be there?”
“Within one or two day’s reach, yes.” It dawned on Geralt - the sprouts Velita had grown at her garden hut… looked like they took care of themselves now. “Did it tell anything else?”
“A little. It was completed exhausted when it arrived in Ellander. Quite a distance for three days, even for a leshen who doesn’t sleep, eat or drink. It was moving speedily because it was scared.”
“Why, what happened?”
“You looked at it in a bad way before you ordered a gardener to watch and care for it. She did, in a good way. It was considering the two of you as parents but then you just left and the gardener was bound with iron.”
“Me, a parent?” Nenneke nodded and smiled. “I did not sow that,” Geralt shrugged, “I happen to know a gardener who replanted something that looked remotely familiar by the color - to keep it safe. But that gardener also said she did not know where the seeds came from.”
“Don’t worry. It just wants to have a name like anybody else.” Nenneke turned to the leshen briefly, extended her palm to the twisting vines. “It remembers a stable… with a brilliant source of vital energy in the middle of it. You are a magic anomaly, Geralt… no, it corrects me, you were one half. That does not refer to your mutations as incomplete but to you being the male aspect of the reproductive source.”
“I did not know I could reproduce,” Geralt huffed, “It’s been a big issue in my past relationship.”
“That you cannot produce human babies with a human female does not mean it is of no consequence what you do. Don’t narrow yourself down on killing and casting simple spells. You are sensitive and productive and equipped to channel raw energy. It says it was born from the flank of a horse... no, from two different horses. It admits that the gardener even helped before you arrived. She supplied it with the energy of herbs from the land itself.”
“The gardener also served as stable hand. She healed two horses that were injured by another leshen. Be careful, Nenneke, this could be an offspring of a murderous monster.”
“Do I really need to tell you that violence is not an inherited fate? At most times, it is just a reaction to circumstances.”
“I thought my progress proves that you don’t need to remind me.”
“At least you let this one live to tell the tale. Ask the gardener about the name.” Nenneke closed the topic, “For now, I see, you’ve got another company.” She raised her chin and stated the obvious.
“This is Mosaik, former apprentice of Lytta Neyed, now Dwimveandra on her way to Yennefer in Vengerberg.” – “Greetings, Aik. You have made an interesting choice of tutors.” – “I am honored to meet you.” Mosaik bowed in, how should she ask?
The witcher took the problem from her, “I’ve picked up something that might interest you, Nenneke. Mosaik would like to support your study if you were keen. I uprooted the ancient energy source of the monster that kept murdering peasants as well as armed forces in the woods of Midville. No less than 23 persons. I would like to send you a piece if you were to accept Mosaik under your tutelage.” The witcher held up a slice.
“I cannot tell from here, Geralt.” – “Would you like to come over?” – “Why do you think this piece of wood is a primary source?” – “Because it emanates magic and was part of a pole, arranged in a circle and the center of the other elementals. Like an altar. Blood was deposited on it recently; there is at least a coincidence with the first murders. The leshen used it as resting place before I killed it, so it probably sprouted from it.” – “So you killed the leshen and cut off a pole to castrate it and take away its power?” – “As a witcher I kill monsters to remove dangers permanently.”
Mosaik piped up. “There is leakage of energy is meddling down to the Pontar stream. It is in pain, probably contaminates the water. I could feel it.”
“Why did you take it with you, Geralt?”
“I tried incineration to be on the safe side but it does not burn like the remains of the leshen. It extinguishes fire, which could prove useful, actually. I’m sure you can find even more interesting properties.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll be with you in a few.” Nenneke turned to the little red leshen, wondered if it was worried about the remnants the witcher had just discussed in front of it. He talked about his cruelties like the leshen were not related. “Can you stay in my office, please, I will be back soon… yes, of course you can stay as long as you like. I just wonder what else you want to see as you grow up. …Yes I know it’s a violent world out there. But there are nice spots, too, that are not ruled by violent men, take Brokilon forest for example. …Now let me take a closer look at what Geralt did this time.”
The witcher sighed. He did not believe in Melitele or any other god, but Nenneke still managed to make him feel stupid. Again. And then she suddenly stood in the stable. No thunder, no swirl of flames. Nenneke really knew how to do decent.
Geralt nodded approvingly, “I am glad you can spare the time.”
Nenneke sighed, “Do I have a choice since you just told me you castrated earth itself?”
Geralt passed her the slice and wondered how bad this was going to be. He wasn’t shaking, his legs did not tremble, but she made him worry. Very worried.
The high priestess held the slice briefly then went over to the pile and sorted through the other slices. She did not put the puzzle together, just found the top piece and held it out to the witcher. “You think that thing was a male aspect?” - “Yes. It was a pole of sorts before we cut it up. It was deeply rooted within a well.” – “And you, Dwimveandra… what do you think?” – “I have not seen it in the arrangement. I can feel it emanates magic. Raw energy. The meddling in the Pontar from its initial location also emanates pain. This one doesn’t feel from what I can tell. It is inactive. But it could be used for healing, maybe even as a mutagen.”
“I’m sure that got the interest of the witchers. But you did not answer my question, Aik. Was that thing male. Could it sow leshen? Take your time to look at it again. Consider it as a receiving inspection and do your best.” Nenneke stood beside the witcher, elbowing him as the young mage sorted out the pile. “Running away again?”
“No. Another aspect adds to my concerns. One of those you don’t want to hear about because you are not my mother. I will take care of it once this is settled.”
“Good.” Nenneke raised her chin at Mosaik, “What do you say?”
“I agree that it must have been male because of the shape. But it had reached the end of its destination already. It did not sow or channel life forces for a long time.”
“Thank you for your estimation. When you’re back at Midville, Geralt, have a look at the garden again, to where your little friend sprouted. Afterwards, you might be wiser,” Nenneke grinned. “Men!” She rose an eyebrow at Mosaik, “You’ve got much to learn and are a bit cock centered, but at least you are more careful than him and you were half ways right. Come to Ellander when you have finished your practicum with Yennefer in Vengerberg. I will take that slice with me if you have come to an agreement with the witcher.”
“Nenneke, please tell me, did I hurt it, caused a contamination… can I do something about it?”
“It will adjust itself.” Nenneke shrugged at the witcher, “After a while.” - “Is it a mutagen?” –“Indeed. But if Vesemir thinks about using it, you guys should be prepared that the next generation of witchers will be female and probably green …like dryards.”
“Oh,” Geralt thought about it, “hm.”
Nenneke took the slice Mosaik had picked out. The biggest one.
“I don’t think he would mind green,” Mosaik grinned. “I will open a portal to Kaer Morhen once you wrote your letter, Geralt,” she passed him her quill.
The witcher brushed down a quick letter, wrapped the canvas around the three remaining slices, tied the mesh around it and pushed the letter underneath the rope. He dragged it over the barn’s floor away from Roach and into the entrance area. “To Kaer Morhen, in front of the main gate. Ring the bell please. You don’t want to surprise Vesemir. He will come down and give you a receipt.”
“Understood.” Mosaik opened a portal right behind the package with a flash bang, then shoved the package into the gaping black hole and was swallowed a moment later. The portal closed and Geralt noted a smoldering arc was cut out of the wooden beams above their heads. Thankfully, the structure held.
Nenneke stood aside. “She’s strong, she will manage. I would like you to come and visit me once you are done with your pressing duties, Geralt.”
“Would you portal us to Midville, please? I am glad of your assessment on that root, but I am still worried and so is he,” the witcher pointed with his chin. Hector had withdrawn on the hay loft, now he climbed down.
“Aren’t you going to wait for your receipt? I thought you hate portals?”
“I do, especially when they are opened by half trained misfits, which you are not. Mosaik will find me if she wants. If my property does not arrive at Kaer Morhen because of an accident, there won’t be anything left. If it doesn’t by design, I am going to find her once I am done in Midville and make sure she won’t go anywhere else.”
Nenneke noticed that the witcher did not care about the new pupil he had arranged for her. Or that he was extremely pissed underneath the gritty patience he emanated. Or both. She would stay out of the lecherous witcher’s affairs or she would never hear the end of that.
“Milady, you are…” Hector decided to bow, “…serving Melitele in Ellander?” – “I do.” – “I am honored to meet you. I am Hector Greenleaf.” – “A pleasure.” Nenneke nodded, “You are in a hurry to get back to Midville?” – “Yes, I am worried I will get there too late. A portal would allow us to get there from one moment to the other?”
“Yes and it will probably make you want to puke your guts out as well or mix your limbs with the horses. I think you should get some sleep before you ride. Blow off some steam and then resolve your own problems instead of jumping around on my back.”
“Before you leave, may I ask for Melitele’s blessing through your hands, high priestess?”
“Of course, son.” Nenneke pushed the slice under her arm and the tall hunter knelt for her to draw the sign on his forehead. – “Thank you.” - “Have a good evening.” She just vanished in thin air. Maybe it had just been an illusion dissolved, but the slice was gone as well.
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Sleeping Beauty Reloaded