Chapter Text
The 2 nd day of Birke, 1267
The weather has improved at last! I did not realize how much I have been missing the warmth of the spring sun. This morning the rain stopped, the wind quietened, and the witch... Stridr dealt with small flood in the basement and rescued my garden from devastation. I did not suspect him to be so handy, yet he took care of all the winter damages and replaced a broken axle in the well. That was quite impressive. I have found a way to repay him for all the help. There is a possibility I could make a new medallion. I have a crystal which is big enough, and the only thing I need to do is just to cut it and cast a spell. It is going to take some time, but I hope to finish it before he shall decide to leave.
The thought... the thought of him leaving now is waking in me this strange unrest. It feels good to have the companion with whom I can talk and who would reply. Stridr turned my world upside down a little, but he cannot know about it.
I would also regret to lose such a good chess partner. Playing with myself bored me long time ago, but Stridr brought the set from the basement and insisted on playing. That game was unexpected and amusing. I have never met someone who would be that gifted, quick thinking tactician and so impatient at the same time.
He told me that he wanted to train his body and mind. Yes...
Loki looked up from his journal. Today he has decided to sit closer to the window and take a closer look at the witcher training in the small courtyard.
Few days ago Stridr had brought a thick branch and whittled it with a knife. Since then, he has been spending every morning till noon, exercising.
The wizard was waking up earlier only to observe this splendid spectacle. He has got to know Stark's body very well already, but now it was a new kind of pleasure. The muscles moving under tanned skin. Long, greying hair following every witcher's turn, every pirouette, every thrust. Drops of sweat gleaming in the rays of sun. Stridr resembled a dancer, a very dangerous one.
The thought of him in a real fight, in the battle or among the sheets was thrilling and Loki smiled, losing himself in very pleasant dreams.
*
The touch of crisp morning air on the bare skin felt so good. Stark moved faster jumping on slabs covering the yard, skipping quick from one to another. He chose to step only on the white stones, so when he trod on the black accidentally, he was making a small lunge.
He thought he would never get out of the bed, but it was wizard who had forced him to move. Loki sometimes acted like he didn't care, but he knew better. He worried enough to woke up earlier and watch him exercise.
The witcher turned, putting the training stick behind his back and looked up. The mage was there, sitting by the window. Stridr admired the pensive look on his face and smiled when Loki brushed his black locks off the beautifully vaulted forehead.
He pulled out his wooden weapon making short strokes, then a few light steps and a thrust. Now he was standing right in front of the tower and the wizard's window.
“Oi!” he called loudly to rose the mage from his thoughts. “Lokes!”
When Loki shook his head and glanced at him frowning a little, he raised his stick up like a sword and saluted with broad, disarming grin. As the wizard moved back, disappearing suddenly, Stridr's smile became even wider, because it looked like his spectator has just fell off the chair.
*
“Soo, did you fall off the chair?” Stark tried not to smile, but it was pretty hard to stay serious with Loki's face turning all red.
“I certainly did not,” murmured the wizard tidying up his dark green, woolen coat and pulling on a hood firmly over his eyes. Since the day before Stridr has been nagging him about that morning practice. It was irritating and humiliating, and he would never said the truth to the witcher.
“Fine, fine, but I know you'll tell me eventually,” murmured the fighter under his breath and turned his head to Loki. “Where are we going exactly?”
The wizard glanced at him, but focused mostly on the road in front of him. Traveling across swamps and old woods could be dangerous even in the daylight.
“To the village on the edge of the forest,” he replied, reining in Sleipnir. “I told you that. You did not listen again.”
“It is a custom,” continued Loki a little dryly. “I visit them once a month. I missed last time, because I had certain someone to take care of.”
“Sorry?” Stark shrugged. “You know, it's just so unusual for a wizard to help some peasants.”
He watched Loki from the corner of his eye. The mage just shook his head and quickly hid his hair escaping from under the cowl. He was acting strange sometimes, like he would like to say something, but couldn't or wanted to. Stridr still thought that this man has been hiding some secretes, that probably wouldn't appeal to him. He had never asked about them though, and wouldn't dare to do it now either, despite some kind of connection which certainly appeared between them. He could've felt it and and so did Lokes. He really wanted to trust him a little more, but only on condition that Loki was honest with him, not like now. But maybe that whole mistrust was nothing else than just his own bad feeling related to lying wizards.
“You do not like us, do you not?”
“Huh? Wha—?” Loki's voice bursted on his thoughts.
“I am asking about the wizards. You seem to hate them,” repeated Loki rolling up his eyes.
“Well,” muttered the witcher. “Fine. It's not hate, I just don't trust you... I mean wizard. I don't trust all of them. Erm, yeah, I've never met any trustworthy mage. Since the beginning of my career. Even the last time, my accident was the wizard's fault. Mostly.”
Loki looked at him inquiringly and Stark continued.
“I was hired by an alderman of a small town in Kaedwen. I had worked for him before, so I trusted him. Something, some creature killed a few workers next to the old storm drain. There was a wizard at the alderman's service, who determined it must have been a kikimore and wanted it to be killed so that he could examine the creature. At that time I've thought that I shouldn't give up double pay when it's actually given to me on a silver plater. But the kikimores are ugly sons of the bitches, and dangerous too. Very fast,” he sighed. “I was stupid enough to take the mage with me. He might have been right about the monster, but unfortunately we have found out that it was the whole hive of them. That little shit split. The rest you've probably worked out. I was lucky that the alderman sent someone after me.”
Loki grimaced. He could understand why Stridr didn't trust members of the Guild. Neither in Ban Ard, nor on Thanedd Island were teaching bravery or courage. All the wizards knew they had to count only on themselves, which mostly meant that the escape was the easiest way to survive.
“Not all of us are like that,” he spoke quietly. He didn't thought about anyone specific at first, but this talk brought back memories about his mother and her teaching. “Not all...”
“Hey, I know that. It's just something I've been taught painfully.” Stark rode up closer and patter him on the arm with a smile. “You're different.”
The wizard blinked quickly and pursed his lips not to let a sigh to escape his lips. He geed up the horse a little, so Stridr couldn't see a blush on his face. It's been ages since he'd heard this sentence spoken with good intention and not as an insult.
“Tell me more about your last hunt,” said Loki to change the topic when they pulled with each other. “Did you use you silver blade on kikimore?”
“The Heartbreaker? Oh, no, no.” The witcher beamed. “Simple steel works just fine.”
They road in silence for a little while. Loki stuck his face out to the sun and breathed deeply.
“So, why the Heartbreaker?” he asked eventually. He was wondering long enough about this name. “It is quite unusual.”
“It's an old joke,” murmured Stark smiling to his thoughts. “I used to know this dwarf. She's a true smith master. I was her apprentice for a short while and she named this sword. She liked to joke that I broke her heart by being a human.”
Loki started to laugh and quickly covered his mouth with hand, but still was shaking a little.
Stark hasdn't heard him laughing before. For a little while he looked younger. And even more handsome. He was staring at the mage a little too long and almost got hit in the face with a tree branch.
“Ouch! Not again!”
“You need to be more careful. It would be a shame if you had your face scared,” said Loki smirking.
“Darling, it's my job to lead a life full of danger,” joked Stridr. “Speaking of... Do you know if there's a work for me somewhere in the neighborhood? I can't just chop the wood and groom horses.”
“I do not believe so. It is a calm place, even if everyone tells the swamp is haunted, is is not true,” claimed the wizard shrugging. “Yet, you can ask in the village if they need any of your professional skills. We are almost there.”
He waved his hand showing his companion a clearing at the edge of the forest. They both could see smoke coming from the chimneys in the distance.
*
The dog's barking have welcomed them. Jarvis snorted unhappy, so Stark need to calm him down. Loki's horse just strode proudly and scared mutts with one mighty thump. His loud neighing alarmed people in the village.
Loki dismounted the horse gracefully and lead the animal by the reins to the center of the hamlet. The witcher followed his steps looking around. The place seemed to be very peaceful, which was very strange. He knew that not far from here armies were marching and soldiers were fighting, but mostly raiding villages like this one. Then he noticed. On every house, on beams over the doorways, there were small sigils carved. Complicated magical symbols circled by runes. A simple, yet powerful protective spell. Usually he would sensed it right away, but without his medallion it wasn't that obvious.
He glanced at wizard, greeting with a elderly, but strong looking man, probably, the leader of the village. He came closer wondering if those sigilis were Loki's feats. Actually it had to be him, but he didn't suspected the mage to know such a powerful magic. He thought about him as of mediocre sorcerer, more in healer type. He concealed his talents very well.
“You aren't dead!” He heard a voice of a young lad behind, so he turned in a blink of an eye. “Woah! And you're so fast!”
Ashen haired boy was standing in front of him and goggling
“And who are you?” asked Stridr with narrowed eyes.
“I'm Pietro and mama said you're a witcher. Are you?” he's been babbling quickly, dropping the endings of the words.
“Yeah, bu—”
“So neat!” Pietro didn't let him get a word in edgeways and went around him. “But where are the swords? Witcher should have like two. So?”
“You should ask Lokes,” replied Stark thinking. “You can go and talk—” The boy was gone before he's even finished the sentence. “— to him. Come and tell me!” he shouted after him.
He sighed and went to check after Loki, who was still sitting with the leader in front on a bench outside. Next to the wizard's leg dark haired girl perched and was listening to his every word.
The witcher came closer.
“ —I truly hope the medicine will help your wife,” said Loki calmly.
“I'm grateful, Master.” The man nodded. “First you helped Wanda, now my dear Anya.”
“It is my pleasure. You, my friend, lent me your helping hand many times,” replied the wizard and Stark was a little amazed how polite and friendly he was. “You are most welcome to come for any help, as always. If anything happens, send Pietro.” He stood up. “I shall try to do what is in my power.”
The elder man got up with help of the dark haired girl.
“Master, will you come back soon?” she asked imitating the way Loki was always speaking.
“Wanda, deary, of course,” the mage smiled warmly. “After Belleteyn celebration, as I promised.”
He said his goodbye and joined Stark.
“Are you ready to go back?” He looked at the fighter, raising his eyebrow. “What is it?”
“They like you,” replied Stridr before he thought. “What is about this girl? I feel the vibe.”
“She is something, is she not?” murmured Loki and secured packages with food the villagers had gave them. “She is bright. She could be a powerful sorceress, but after what happened in Aretuza, I do not think it is safe to send her there. I teach her myself, but it is still not enough. Maybe I should find her a real teacher.”
The wizard waved to the villagers and got on the horseback.
They left quickly to make it to the tower before the sunset.
*
The loud clang of metal and stream of curses in many different languages, tore Stark away from a book he had stolen from Loki's library. It was late in the night and he thought that the wizard has been long asleep, but when he looked out of his room, he saw him by the kitchen table struggling with something which might be a small telescope. Before it broke.
“Is everything alright, Lokes?” he asked coming closer. The floor under his bare feet was cold, so he sat down next to the mage.
“Did I wake you?” sighed Loki. “I am sorry.”
“It's fine. Do you need help with this?” He took the device even without an assent and examined it. “The lenses aren't cracked. If you have tools, I'll deal with it quickly.”
The wizard nodded and passed him a small case.
“So, what were you planning to do?” He efficiently took the telescope to pieces and started assembled it anew.
“Tonight sky is perfect for the observation. There is the new moon, so I though I could work on my map of the night sky,” muttered Loki upset on himself, clenching fingers on the bridge of his nose.
“I've almost finished,” Stridr grinned reassuringly. “You can still go and watch the sky. It has to be pretty in here?”
The wizard returned the smile.
“Yes. The night sky here is truly beautiful and unpolluted,” he murmured. “My people have this one, special word for it. The Stjerneklart, where the night is so dark and quiet with the view so clear, that you are able to see all the stars. People in your cities had forgotten about it and polluted the world with unnecessary lights. No one cares. Everyone is so afraid and superstitious, but does not care about the night sky anymore.”
Stark saw something in Loki's eyes. The sadness. Was is the longing after something he had lost? Or someone? He felt he needed to say something funny, something to cheer him up a little.
“You know,” he started, passing the telescope to the mage, now fixed and in one piece. “Also dwarves know it. They call it 'starlit' and say it only really matters after a long and dangerous shift underground. The true beauty of the night sky, full of the clear air.”
Loki touched the witcher's wrist.
“Thank you, Stridr,” he spoke. “You seem to know a lot about the dwarves. Why is that?” he asked and let the hand go.
Stark didn't expect such a personal question. First, about the Heartbreaker, and now this. It was like the mage wanted to know him better.
“You can say, I was brought by them,” he laughed. “Well, not really. I was a grown man, in my opinion at least. I left Kaer Morhen, our keep, so full of myself. I got my first real job in an old infested mine. And in the end I ended up buried alive under some stones. Dwarvish miner saved me and took to his family. I was so afraid after that,” he broke and winced with disgust. “They let me stay and forced to be apprenticed in the smith. I liked it, even if my master was an old, nasty gaffer.”
He raised his head and saw that Loki was gazing at him.
“Sorry, I'm taking your time,” he sighed. “You'll miss your Stjen-Stjerneklart.”
“Thank you for help.” Loki raised himself and put hand on Stark's arm gently. “You can come with me. If you want, of course. You could tell me more about this master of yours.”
“Yeah, you're much prettier than him.” The witcher winked. “I'll go. Wait for me here, Lokes.”
*
Stark woke up one morning with the decision taken. He had to leave. The longer he was staying here, in this place, with Loki, the more he was becoming indolent. He's been training, but with every day it was more and more monotonous and wearisome. He wasn't the servant of the mage, he needed real job, suited for his profession and, what's more, he really missed travelling. This day was good, like any other, to do it.
He dressed up quickly and went looking for the wizard.
Loki was working in his cellar garden. He tied his hair up and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. He looked so focused on his plants, so the witcher decided to talk to him later. He somehow wanted to postpone this conversation, but now it was too late. The wizard turned to him.
“Stridr. Good morrow. Did you sleep well?”
“Well, yeah. Kinda,” he murmured feeling a little guilty. “I... Can we talk?”
“Of course,” replied Loki trimming carefully small tree with dark red leaves.
The fighter stared at the mage's back in silence.
“So, what is it? Have you fallen asleep over there?”
He jumped a little when the wizard patted him on the forehead. He caught his palm, covered with soil, and squeezed lightly.
“I want to leave today. I need my swords,” he said quietly looking Loki in the eyes.
The wizard took his hand swiftly and went back to his plant. It was more than unexpected. He thought that Stridr would stay with him a little longer. Maybe until the Belleteyn. He shook his head.
“I understand,” he said quietly with quivering voice. “Go and prepare Jarivs. I shall join you shortly.”
He waited until the witcher would leave and then grabbed the pot with the tree he was taking up and hurled it onto the wall, growling angrily.
When they met later, Loki had calmed down already. He brought Stark's equipment to the kitchen and put it on the table next to a bundle with a food inside.
The witcher came in ready to set off. He quickly strapped the sword in sheathes to his back and donned the coat Loki gave him.
“I've prepared for you new elixirs,” said the mage with a little cold tone. “I wrote down the instructions and put it in your chest.”
“Yes, thank you.” Stark wanted to come closer, but changed his mind. “You've saved me, Lokes. I could've never been more grateful.”
He didn't know what else could be said. He liked Loki more with every day, but he decided. His life was on the way. He could only live fully, working and fighting. He moved, heading to the door.
“Wait!” Loki grabbed his arm and turned to himself. “I forgot. I made this for you.”
He pulled Stridr to himself closely and put something on his neck. Metal chain jingled and a small medallion hit him gently on the chest.
He glanced at the gift. It was blue crystal precisely cut and set in the silver. When the wizard touched it with his fingers set of runes light up on the surface, forming a triangle
“Oh...”
“It should work for now,” murmured Loki. “Far thee well, Stridr. It was pleasure to meet you.”
He pushed the witcher gently across the threshold and closed the door.
Stark looked at the wooden surface blinking, but he understood. Loki didn't want to see him anymore.
He went to the horse waiting for him in the courtyard. He slowly packed his things to the saddlebags.
What was he waiting for? That wizard would stop him and start asking him to stay? He knew him a little already. He was too proud to beg anyone. Nevertheless he wanted it to be truth. Maybe when he would turned, the raven-black haired man would be standing there, waiting for him?
“Oh, fuck it!” he mumbled under his breath and turned anyway.
Loki leaned against the door and closed his eyelids tightly. What has he expected? Stridr was too stubborn to change his mind.
He wanted the witcher to stay with him, talk to him, play chess together, even arguing about small things would be just fine. And now he was left alone again.
Maybe he should have stopped him. Even now, he could just open the door and go after him.
“Oh, for Seidr's sake,” he growled angry at himself and grabbed the door handle.
They met halfway, thinking they would never see each other.
Stark said nothing when they almost run into one another, just grabbed Loki quickly and pulled the man to himself, putting arms around his waist.
The wizard smiled and kissed him gently.
“Stay,” he murmured against the witcher's lips.
“Yeah, just...” the other man breathed and kissed him back.
It was so much simpler than thousand words.