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Vesemir stared at the flickering flames of the campfire, watching Geralt pushing the dying embers with a dried elm branch. His gaze reminded of those times where he, and the young pitchers (If not dead by the trials or the constant excursions to monster-filled swarms) cuddling by the withering fire in the fortified walls of Kaer Morhen, staring unto the stone ceiling, thinking of lost ghosts wandering the hardened floors and hard times which Declan proclaimed that it would come, once they leave that damn fort.
The only comfort that Vesemir clung is that he would be able to live a free life as sweet Illyana would have liked.
“…Vesemir….”
Geralt’s voice seems to be so shaky, fearing that the ghouls would snatch them away. If there is a source of comfort is that Declan did not get his clammy hands on them. He would honour his fallen friends Luka and Sven by acts of understanding and kindness.
Illyana would have appreciated that notion.
“Yes….Geralt…” Vesemir tried to force himself not to bark loudly at Geralt, knowing his sensitive soul. “You can tell me anything…just anything….”
Geralt raised an eyebrow. That seems strange from Vesemir. He always knows him for being a stern one and preaching his value of “A witcher must survive for himself…”
“I am worried about Coen….” Geralt’s voice seems softer than ever. “I forget to tell you Vesemir….I took over Coen for night-watch duty as he complained that his body ached and his head burning like a forest fire….”
Vesemir huffed his breath. That is new. Vesemir calmly thought to himself, examining Geralt's slumping. Well, witchers have the illness like normal humans. Alright. What to do. What would Declan do?
Wait.
He would bark at the young boys that you either fight it or go to their graves. However he thought of Illyana, she would want him to treat the boys with compassion and respect, despite their mutant tendencies.
After all, they are humans after all.
And what the boys need is someone to be there. To guide them in this cruel world
Like a father to a child.
“May we go and check Coen out…”
Quickly Geralt blow away the embers of the campfire, watching all of the flames die out at that moment.
////////
Geralt nodded calmly, reluctantly taking Vesemir’s hand to bring him to the corner of the forest. Both glanced at Eskel, using a torn piece of his shirt and dabbed the cool rag unto Coen’s head. Eskel looked at Vesemir pitifully. “Vesemir…what shall we do…I tried to brew the liquids made from sage and chamomile and let him drink, but he constantly shivered.” Calmly Vesemir looked over Coen’s pale expression, he seems to be slipping in and out of conscience amidst the cold winter. Quickly Vesemir took his cloak off and covered his body. His hand touching the forehead of Coen, and it seems that Geralt is right, he is indeed burning “Eskel….I can see you are trying with trying to make a drink to break Coen’s fever and it must be upsetting that nothing works…”
However, there is a glimmer of hope in Vesemir’s gaze.
“However we can work it out together, no matter the circumstances…” Vesemir simpered, as he ruffled his hair reluctantly, which Eskel’s face softened at his reassuring words. “You are doing so well, for watching over Coen…Geralt and I will look for some cool water by the stream….” Geralt hurried himself to grab a leather canteen at the corner.
Quickly Vesemir tossed his dagger to Eskel. “Take that…a witcher must not hold these woods without a blade.” Esker sheepishly took that dagger and slipped it into his pocket. “I think, with all that training we can do it…”
Geralt and Vesemir calmly walked out of the forested areas, to find the long streams of water, which Geralt make small ripples of water. by his calloused hands Vesemir observed him silently, admiring his intelligence “Vesemir…I think it would be cooling for Coen….”
“…This is good…it seems that your training has paid off…” Vesemir squatted down to Geralt’s level “now the big question is how did we get the water and bring it to Coen…” Quietly Geralt opened the opening of the canteen and poured what little liquid he collected unto the next stream. “Huh? where do you find this canteen….”
Geralt gave a cheeky grin to his face.
“You do not want to tell me huh?”
Geralt smirked a little. Maybe one way or another, if Vesemir could detect a trait that is so similar to him, that he may have the instinct to snitch an old canteen from a dead traveller or even better, seduce an old Nilgraadian captain to pass him extra bottles in exchanges of calling Vesemir to slay the foul beast.
He would ask him later, for Coen’s life is on the line.
Vesemir huffed his cheeks “Very well….” He gently placed his hand on his back. “You better tell me about how the devils do you get that canteen after we can break Coen’s fever…”
Geralt giggled a little.
“Yes…Papa…Vesemir….”
Papa.
His heart suddenly feels so warm at this title. “Papa”.
Well shit. Vesemir thought bemusedly, now rolling his bottom lip to his teeth. Now this moniker is going to be stuck in my head.
Illyana would laugh at that moniker.
Oh yes, she will.
“Alright Geralt…let’s go…we cannot delay…” Vesemir could see the sun rays peeking out from the dark, as they made their way towards the forest. Indeed a new day has started, with many many adventures to come.
“Yes, Papa Veremir…”
And it started with understanding and acceptance.
A/N: Hello! Hello! I hope all of you are well... for my case, I just did a booster shot just yesterday and decided why not I clear up some stuff. Originally I saw this request by carrottheluvmachine on tumblr, which goes like "Vesemir takes care of the new little Witchers. A kid fic, if you will//I just want Vesemir being a new dad and the boys being chaotic." and I said I will do it, and supposed to be published for Christmas, but alas...I do not have the time :'D
TBH it is just nice to write some wholesomeness between Vesemir and the kids, given that NOTW is just a ball of toxic relationships, and Vesemir is determined to be better.
I hope you enjoy this short drabble and comments are so welcome here