middaeg | ( OPEN ) just a pinch of salt in the wound; you'll be fine

[ That piece of the conversation -- specifically meeting with Lan Xichen will come with time. No matter how this conversation turns. Though, the reminder that she will be unwilling to bond until this is resolved and the acknowledgment that resolution might not come in time before her imminent implosion probably won’t sit well again.

She’ll take the easy conversation for now. It’ll be something good to hold onto when it all goes to shit again. Her hand falls from his hair to rest against his chest as his hand finds her hip. It’s a seemingly easy gesture between them to anyone looking in from the outside, but it’s also a level of trust. Of him and the strangers here. She had to trust that no one here bore them ill will or intention to use them against each other. Their connection had already been advertised for the world at large, so there was no point in trying to keep it secret, but it was hard to let that particular guard down. ]

No, only picking up a few things today. [ Stock ups would have to wait until she was certain of what direction she wanted to take her powers. ] Nothing extravagant. Did you have a need for something?

[ It’s an open-ended enough question for him to interpret as he sees fit. ]

[ For a few moments, Geralt is silent. Her hand is warm where it rests against him: over his heart, the beat slow and steady. So simple, leaving the world as a distant echo when she's close to him.

But they do have eyes on them. No matter how tempting it is to ignore that, instinct won't let him. ]

Always. [ His answer is softer than he intends, and as open-ended as her question. He lets it hang there for a few seconds.

Eventually, he does produce a tangible reason for approaching her: a slim glass bottle filled with a gold liquid that sits in his palm and topped with an elaborate pair of insect wings. Even from inside the bottle, the distinct scent of roses and honey drifts into the air. ] Found this with the enchanted flowers. [ Equally cursed, in other words, though in case his meaning isn't clear enough, his thumb stays over the stopper as he hands it over. ] Thought you might like it. For any...irritants.

[ She gives a hum to fill a moment of the space between their open-ended conversation. Well. To be continued, she supposed. Always standing on a precipice of a hard conversation, dancing around the more complex topics with flirtation and dexterous redirections. Sometimes. At least while things could still be avoided. Not always the case.

Her hand moves from its position on his chest to take the glass bottle, an eyebrow arching over her violet eyes as she studies it. Only Geralt could present her with a cursed gift and not have it result in her walking away laughing. Her thumb runs over one of the wings very gently, careful not to disturb the liquid as she looks up at him. ]

Interesting. And what would the result be should I find a need to use it?

[ She's certainly the only person Geralt would consider giving a gift to. But then, she's the only person he'd consider doing many things with he never would with anyone else. ]

Mm. How do you feel about bees?

[ One spritz seems to be enough to call in an angry swarm. An unfortunate pigeon might've been trialed upon for him to confirm the effects. (The bird's fine. Probably.)

Geralt chooses not to note this in any case. Instead, he's watching her, to see if he'll spot that spark of interest or even amusement. It's more than just curiosity if she likes it. It's that, as much as he won't admit it, he wants to know he can still draw a smile out of her. Fucking flowers in his hair aside. ]

For those I find to be irritants? Sounds like a lovely combination.

[ Her mind is immediately jumping to conclusions regarding the effects, proximity of close she needs to be to someone to get it to work without any negative impact to herself, and how long it might last. There is a definite spark of interest, the rest of the market melting away for a moment as her eyebrows lift. There may even be a slight curve to a corner of her lip as she gives it one more look before fixing her gaze back on him and his hair. ]

And how long will you be blessed with flowers? [ A day? A week? Until he parts with whatever gifted him with his softened visage? ]

[ Thought so.

A small quirk to his lips matches hers. He glances upwards towards where the flowers still sit on his head, weaving through his hair. ]

Until they wilt off. I'm assuming. [ He's yet to sprout any new, additional buds, so ideally these will simply fall off in time. (Ideally.) He eyes her for a second. There's a faint, playful edge to his normally dry tone that hasn't been heard in awhile. ] Considering adding me to your garden?

[ It's a garden that almost feels like theirs now. Given all that's transpired in it. ]

[ She would offer to help accelerate the wilting if he asked, though she’s unsure if it would do more harm than good depending on the accuracy of any spells. But, a hot bath could also potentially hold the same effect.

And then that playful edge works its way in and she visibly softens a bit. ]

Always. [ Depending on her tone, that singular word could hold a multitude of meanings, but at least this time her intention wouldn’t be horrid. Fingers trail back up to his hair, a smirk playing on her lips.] You’d make for a nice accent to the lilac.

[ Either way, the garden certainly has unique memories when Geralt is involved. ]

[ There's a slight tilt to his lips as she echoes the word back at him. Always. Impermanence is something he's used to. People don't stay; neither does much else. He can admit, though, that Yennefer has been one of the few constants.

The wish, no doubt. If he were to ask her. Which he doesn't. He's not here to pick at that scar. He lets her toy with his hair instead, his gaze just as soft. It's more than he usually allows anyone to see. ]

I've been told I brighten up places. [ He starts to walk alongside her, following her through the market stalls. If she's shopping, he doesn't mind accompanying her. (He'd follow her anywhere, an afternoon market or into a demon pit itself, but that's beside the point.) ]

Oh, have you?

[ The Wish was never something she truly ever wanted to discuss, but it also came up enough that pointedly not bringing it up right now seemed like the wisest choice. At least while it remained that way -- a topic choice.

They begin moving and she's uncertain how long she'll have the company, but offers no complaints. There's no secret shopping she intends to do, more gathering a few things here and there -- items to begin planting in her garden if she truly intended on buying into the idea of staying here in a weakened state for a long time. She stops at another stand, an assortment of seeds and newly started plants greeting them. ]

You know, when you promised me a plant as a housewarming gift... this wasn't what I had in mind.

[ Though, it's effective. She couldn't imagine getting into a fight with him whilst he had flowers in his hair. That'll change, however. Eventually. ]

[ His lips curl faintly. He has been told, with extreme sarcasm and without a hint of sincerity. ]

Mm. I'm low maintenance. [ He peers over her shoulder at the seeds, too, ignoring the way the shopkeeper is eyeing him with deep suspicion -- as if the man is torn between telling him to leave his wares alone or allowing him to linger because his companion is a much more welcome customer.

While she browses, he holds out a hand, offering to hold anything she has that might get in her way. It isn't his default state to be... (a gentleman is the term here and not one Geralt is willing to acknowledge). But some of it exists in there, somewhere, usually called forth around Yennefer. ]

[ Technically, that’s true. He’s low maintenance and self-sufficient, but there’s always another side to it. Especially when they’re together. Yennefer ignores the shopkeeper’s looks with practiced grace, making a mental note to limit what she buys due to the not so warm reception. In a city where magic and monsters are commonplace, she can’t help but hold judgment against someone who holds judgment first.

He holds out his hands and she can’t resist the temptation, even if it’s unnecessary. A small bag of herbs and her coin purse, after removing a few coins for the seeds, find their way into his hand so she can pick up some of the packets and examine them more closely. ]

I think I have a few places I’d prefer to keep you than the garden.

[ Out of curiosity, Geralt sniffs the bag of herbs. Some plants he recognizes in this world; there're a handful he doesn't.

Not that he can throw back his old potions the same way. He hasn't tested, exactly, but he's decided that's one thing not worth the risk of finding out. ]

That so? [ Her coin purse is far more elegant that the worn leather pouches Geralt tends to stuff inside his bags and pockets, so he ends up carrying it in his hand altogether. ] You should show me precisely where.

[ Slowly, slowly she’s been collecting seeds and starters for her own garden, looking to accumulate a variety of supplies to use as needed rather than having to scramble or hunt for herbs.

An eyebrow arches at the offer, immediately no longer interested in the starting process of collecting bits and pieces as she comes across them. The few coins she had in hand are passed over to the shopkeeper, picking up a few other packets of seeds that she’d technically just paid for. Even if she’s not fully paying attention to exactly what she grabbed before her attention is fully on Geralt. ]

My day just freed up, so if you have time, I’d be happy to give you a full tour.

[ He's known her long enough he can sense the exact moment he's caught her attention. A faint smile lifts his lips. He's already gotten to know her garden, but he won't turn down another chance to tour it.

A very personal tour. ]

I might have some hours to spare.

[ Simple as that, he changes course with her towards the market's exit. She can enjoy the flowers sprouting on him in full back at her cottage. ]

( OPEN ) just a pinch of salt in the wound; you'll be fine

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