Work Text:
Even with how many times he’s watched it, Hank could never get used to the kids training in the keep. They’re all in the mid-teens, but he will forever call them kids. From what he heard, most of them were orphans this time around, but one or two had decided to seek out the keep to undergo the trials.
It started off grueling and would only get worse from here on out. Already Hank could pick out a few of them that were lagging behind the others. Based off of his experience, Hank knew that some kids wouldn’t last to the end of the week. The Choice would weed out the weaker ones before they’d move on to the trials that would really prove their mettle.
“Any of them catch your eye?” A voice called out.
Hank looked over his shoulder, crossing his arms as Jeffrey walked over to him. The other Witcher was in charge of overseeing the kids this time around, a job that Hank certainly didn’t envy. “Hard to say. Last time I pointed one out, they died as their eyes liquified.”
Jeffrey hummed under his breath. Even though they were in the keep, the Witcher was still dressed in full armour with both his swords strapped to his back. Hank had dressed down when he got back earlier in the day, seeing no reason to carry around anything other than his silver sword. There were enough people around that he didn’t have to be on edge every moment when he was inside these walls. The guards were more than competent enough at their jobs.
“You’ve been gone for a while,” Jeffrey said. His shoulders were tense. Even with how long they’d been doing this, he was always ready for the next horrible thing to happen.
“I took some contracts that took me further away.” Mostly, Hank just wanted to avoid the keep. He remembered how horrible the trials were. They’d forever be ingrained in his mind.
Jeffrey finally turned to look at Hank. “You appear to have been eating well during your travels.”
Hank immediately placed a hand on his stomach. “A man can enjoy the simple pleasures in life every once in a while.”
“Yes. A man can,” Jeffrey said. Hank knew Jeffrey’s underlying words. It was a point of contention between the two of them that kept circling every time they got together. Be it at the keep or out in the world. Jeffrey was utterly devoted to their work. Hank was too, of course he was, but he didn’t let the fact that he was a Witcher hold him back from trying out things that normal humans did. To the point that he was allowed. Anti-mutant sentiment was strong in different parts of the continent.
His bright eyes zeroed back in on Hank. Through all their years, Jeffrey managed to avoid any scars on his face, which spoke strongly to his skill. Why he decided to oversee the kids was beyond Hank.
“How long have we been at this now, Jeffrey?” Hank asked with a gruff tone.
“We’ve got to be getting close to our fiftieth year now, I think,” Jeffrey said after a moment. They weren’t the oldest Witchers around the keep, but they’d been chugging along for a while.
“How many kids have we seen die in that time? In this keep alone.” Hank put a foot on the ledge, resting his arms on his knee as he peered down more pointedly now. The kids had already progressed to the point where they were using blunt swords.
Jeffrey was quiet before he shifted a little closer to Hank with a sigh. “I stopped keeping count a long time ago, Hank.”
It looked like no matter how often they went through this, it weighed as heavily on Jeffrey as it did on Hank. People often said that Witchers didn’t have emotions after the trials, but Hank knew better than that. Emotions were part of the reason why he kept going. Perhaps he’d learned to push them aside after all these years, but they were most definitely there.
It was all just compartmentalising.
Hank came back to the keep when he was tired of acting like his own feelings didn’t matter. Despite all of the hard memories that the keep held and the dying kids that Hank saw in front of him, the keep was still home. He’d always come back to a room that was his own, a bed that wasn’t the cold, hard ground, and company from the people that were closest to him.
That’s what he needed this time around. Just to be with the people that understood him. The people that would never judge Hank for his gruffness or the colour of his eyes.
A hand settled on Hank’s shoulder and he looked at Jeffrey again. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I.” Hank placed his hand on top of Jeffrey’s and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of Jeffrey’s hand, trailing along a gnarled scar Hank knew every inch of.
Last Hank had seen Jeffrey was when they’d parted after spending the winter in the keep. It was midsummer now. More time had passed than Hank originally intended. But he always came back if he was able. If he wasn’t, he would’ve sent word and Jeffrey would’ve come to pick his ass up. That was how they were together. Hank would do the same if it was the other way around.
They liked to spend their time together in the keep rather than out in the world. As strange as it was, them being them was much easier here. No one asked questions. No one turned their eyes the other way for some kind of bullshit reason. They just let Hank and Jeffrey be them.
And when they were in the keep together, they were Hank and Jeffrey . All the way up until the moment that either one of them had to leave the keep’s walls.
“What kind of trouble did you get in to this time around, Hank?” Jeffrey asked.
Hank chuckled under his breath. “Let me tell you about this one contract I had that was supposed to be a Nightwraith.”
He launched into the story with a grin, feeling pleased when Jeffrey smiled along as he listened. What started off as just another normal contract had turned into Hank uncovering a sordid love affair that mainly took place under the moonlight.
The Nightwraith, in actuality, had just been a young woman meeting with her older lover close to the forest by the town they were from. The people had spotted her from time to time, immediately believing her to be some kind of spectre rather than just a woman wandering around at night. People let their imaginations wander much too often in Hank’s opinion.
Luckily, he’d still gotten paid for the job. All he had to do was warn the two lovers and show off a ‘trophy’ to get money for his troubles.
By the end of the story, Jeffrey was lowly laughing along with Hank, his shoulders jerking as he tried to keep himself from laughing too loudly.
It was the kind of story that popped up often enough in their line of work, but Hank always tried to emphasize what he thought was funniest to keep it from going bland. Sometimes he was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to slay something with his sword, but most of the time Hank just saw the mirth in it all. Going out and killing monsters was his job . So anything to break up the slight monotony was always appreciated.
“People aren’t as sneaky as they think they are.” Jeffrey shook his head and his hand squeezed the back of Hank’s neck, having shifted up while Hank told his story.
“If I could get paid to investigate love affairs, then I would. The look on people’s faces when you catch them is the best.” People would be startled, then angry, and then scared when they realized what Hank was more often than not. It was still amusing as hell though.
Jeffrey snorted under his breath, lifting his hand to swat Hank on the back of the head instead - ignoring the Witcher’s barked out exclamation. “If you’re that interested, I’m sure you’d be able to find something if you asked the right people.”
“Do you know the right people?” Hank asked, rubbing the back of his head. The swat didn’t hurt at all. It was just a love tap. Hank knew how hard Jeffrey could hit and that was barely even a touch.
“As a matter of fact, I do, Hank.” Jeffrey winked at him.
Hank laughed again. “Tell me all your secrets.”
“If you ask nicely, later tonight,” he said.
Those words made a smirk curl on Hank’s lips. He was about to give as good as he got when a sharp yell rang through the courtyard.
His eyes went back to the kids and he saw that one of them was on the ground, clutching his face. Hank could see blood seeping out from between the kid’s fingers as a mage hurried over to him.
They were clearly trying to help in some way, but the kid tried to push them away and reach for the sword he’d dropped on the ground instead. All the other kids were looking between him and his sparring partner, whose sword was bloody. Apparently the swords weren’t that blunt this year. Either that or the sparring partner had it out for the kid currently bleeding.
The kid got up again and now Hank could see the wound on his face. It was diagonally across the bridge of his nose and Hank knew from the way that it was bleeding that the kid was going to have a major scar there. He’d have it for the rest of his life. Be it only for the next few months or the many years to come.
“Hey!” Hank barked out and all the eyes in the courtyard went to him. “Let the mage do her job so you don’t get blood everywhere. Do you know how hard it is to clean up?” Even from this distance Hank could see the defiance shining in the kid’s eyes. For a second Hank thought he was going to get a few sharp words in return, but instead the kid flipped him the bird before he turned to let the mage clean him up and heal him. “Kids these days,” Hank muttered.
“His name’s Gavin,” Jeffrey said. “He came up the trail all by himself, demanding to take the trials. No one’s gotten out of him where he’s from or if he has family. Just keeps saying that he’s going to be a Witcher and no one’s going to get in his way.”
“What a ruthlessly ambitious kid. I like the sound of that.”
“And here I got the impression that you didn’t like it when one of them caught your eye.” Jeffrey turned next to Hank, already starting to walk away.
Hank followed after Jeffrey, but not without taking one last look at the kid. Those feisty eyes glared right back at him. “I’ll reserve my opinion based off of the result of the Trial of Grasses.”
Jeffrey wrapped an arm around Hank’s shoulder and pulled him in close. “Which means that you’re hoping he’ll be one of the few that survive.”
He let himself relax against Jeffrey as they walked inside. “Pretty much.”