dragonlady7

post, my fic

via https://ift.tt/3nzunQn

so a friend is going thru the deleted scenes bits of witcher 3 scattered across 2015 messageboards and shared model notes on deleted character Iorveth, which was, translated from the Polish, “Get dirty. Remove badges” and I can’t help but cry about poor W3 Iorveth, Vergenless and grubby and desperate, having a Real Bad time.

also i have this weird fixation on the religious trauma of coming from a kind of animist culture where your gods were mostly local and then losing them all in genocide and forced relocation and trying to piece together meaning for your spiritual life after that.

anyway this is probably going to get heavily revised before use but here’s a basic premise bit:

The room was a tiny hollowed-out thing, and there was a pile of blankets against one wall, and a little rickety shelf made of discarded pieces of broken furniture propped with rocks and broken bricks against the other. Iorveth was sitting on the floor, a blanket around him like a cloak, and on the shelf was a tiny makeshift oil lamp, a little fragment of incense smoldering in a pottery shard, and a small gleaming object it took Saskia a moment to recognize as one of her own shed scales from several molts ago.

Iorveth stared up at her as she came in, and he looked small and fragile with his knees pulled up to his chest. He was weeping already. She pushed in the rest of the way and dropped to her knees to pull him into her arms.

“Ss-ss-s,” he tried, but he was crying too hard to say either of her names. She held him tightly and stroked his hair. He was feverish, trembling in her grasp.

“Hush,” she murmured, “Iorveth, I’m here.” He sobbed, and she pressed the side of her face against his head, rocking a little with him.

Over his shoulder she could see the shelf. It was– it was a very deliberate arrangement of items: the lamp, the incense, the scale. It was the sort of thing she’d seen in several houses in Vergen, in Scoia’tael camps, in little shrines in the woods.

It was a shrine, a little devotional shrine. To her.

He’d been praying. To her.

(don’t @ me if i had a dragon for a girlfriend you bet your ass i’d pray to her too) (Your picture was not posted)