[ He can still recall the scent of magic that had surrounded her, before, like ozone before a storm. Enough that he could feel it, like the faint crackle of static energy, even without the vibrations from his medallion.
Right now, there's nothing, not even as she attempts what seems to be a warding spell. Her fingers move, graceful as ever, but nothing comes of it, not even a spark. There's not much he can do about it. Aard won't last long enough to be a meaningful ward, and the Signs are all the magic he has. Whether they'd need it tonight or not isn't the problem; it's the path ahead that has him concerned.
But they'll get there when they get there. And perhaps, along the way, they'll find some part of her magic again. He shifts on the bed, reaching to pull back the covers on the other side for her. ]
[ Nodding to show she's heard him, Julia stays standing at the door for just a moment longer, pulling together the scraps of whatever strength she has left. It's not much, she's spent nearly every ounce just getting this far, but all she needs is enough to get through this night. One step at a time.
She takes a breath, holds it, and then turns and walks back to the bed as she slowly lets out that breath. Stepping around to the other side of the bed, she gathers the voluminous nightgown as she slips under the covers he'd pulled back, arranging the extra fabric of her borrowed clothing so it wouldn't tangle or be too uncomfortable. Only when she's finished does she lean back against the pillows, which are far from luxurious but feel like heaven at this moment.
Darkness immediately wraps around her mind, trying to tug her into blissful unconsciousness. And she has no intentions of fighting that pull, she'll give into it soon, but first. ]
Thank you, Geralt. For everything.
[ Her words slur slightly at the end, and she tries to shift to better face him, but all she manages is to turn her head and blink slowly at him. Her knight in slightly dirty armor. ]
[ Even he's not enough of a boor to sleep in his armor in a bed, especially when she might roll into him in the night and accidentally hurt herself on a stud or the chainmail. He'd heard enough complaints from Yen over the years about the perils of sleeping next to a lump of boiled leather and mail, so while Julia closes her eyes, he sets about removing first his gauntlets, then his chest armor. Sets it aside as the banked fire glows, filling the little room with the warmth she needs after the shock she's had.
His thoughts meander as he tugs off his boots, unlaces the leather armor from his legs, leaving him in breeches and undershirt. Could be an Elven Sage might know something that would help. Trouble is, he can't stand any of the Sages of his acquaintance.
All of that is a problem for tomorrow. The witcher swings his legs up onto the bed and settles back, lying over the blankets while she's underneath them, his hands loose on his stomach.
[ She doesn't dream. Her sleep is deep enough that she barely even moves, physical and mental exhaustion pulling her deep enough into the darkness that even her usual nightmares can't penetrate the veil. It's a blissful reprieve from the pain and regret that has haunted her for months, though it'll be renewed now with the fresh material of recent events.
The sun is up when she finally opens her eyes. Is she waking naturally or did something tug her back up to the surface? As she blinks heavily at the unfamiliar room, she struggles to remember where she is and why she's here...
Until it rushes back to her with the force of a truck. She presses her aching hands to her face, taking a few long, deep breaths, and pulls herself together before she breaks apart into a thousand little pieces. ]
no subject
Right now, there's nothing, not even as she attempts what seems to be a warding spell. Her fingers move, graceful as ever, but nothing comes of it, not even a spark. There's not much he can do about it. Aard won't last long enough to be a meaningful ward, and the Signs are all the magic he has. Whether they'd need it tonight or not isn't the problem; it's the path ahead that has him concerned.
But they'll get there when they get there. And perhaps, along the way, they'll find some part of her magic again. He shifts on the bed, reaching to pull back the covers on the other side for her. ]
Come on. Get some rest.
no subject
She takes a breath, holds it, and then turns and walks back to the bed as she slowly lets out that breath. Stepping around to the other side of the bed, she gathers the voluminous nightgown as she slips under the covers he'd pulled back, arranging the extra fabric of her borrowed clothing so it wouldn't tangle or be too uncomfortable. Only when she's finished does she lean back against the pillows, which are far from luxurious but feel like heaven at this moment.
Darkness immediately wraps around her mind, trying to tug her into blissful unconsciousness. And she has no intentions of fighting that pull, she'll give into it soon, but first. ]
Thank you, Geralt. For everything.
[ Her words slur slightly at the end, and she tries to shift to better face him, but all she manages is to turn her head and blink slowly at him. Her knight in slightly dirty armor. ]
no subject
Sure.
[ Even he's not enough of a boor to sleep in his armor in a bed, especially when she might roll into him in the night and accidentally hurt herself on a stud or the chainmail. He'd heard enough complaints from Yen over the years about the perils of sleeping next to a lump of boiled leather and mail, so while Julia closes her eyes, he sets about removing first his gauntlets, then his chest armor. Sets it aside as the banked fire glows, filling the little room with the warmth she needs after the shock she's had.
His thoughts meander as he tugs off his boots, unlaces the leather armor from his legs, leaving him in breeches and undershirt. Could be an Elven Sage might know something that would help. Trouble is, he can't stand any of the Sages of his acquaintance.
All of that is a problem for tomorrow. The witcher swings his legs up onto the bed and settles back, lying over the blankets while she's underneath them, his hands loose on his stomach.
Sleep. Both of them need it. ]
no subject
The sun is up when she finally opens her eyes. Is she waking naturally or did something tug her back up to the surface? As she blinks heavily at the unfamiliar room, she struggles to remember where she is and why she's here...
Until it rushes back to her with the force of a truck. She presses her aching hands to her face, taking a few long, deep breaths, and pulls herself together before she breaks apart into a thousand little pieces. ]