Chapter Text
Saying the Blue Mountains were cold was like calling a leshen 'a bit of trouble'. The wind which nipped at them during their last segment up the trail was enough to take the nose straight off a humans' face--a fact which had Geralt check on Trevor more than once to make sure his face was mostly covered with the extra cloth wound about his head.
They were lucky in their timing though; They had seen the keep coming into view already, and the sun had only just started to set, not even below the horizon. It hadn't snowed more than a few flakes at a time, and nothing stuck to the ground, which meant their way had been clear.
The horses and mule had done well also, none of them slipping on rocks or other slick patches. Further, with the presence of Lambert and Eskel there at his side, meaning three witchers total, it seemed any local wildlife was more willing to keep distance from their group.
All in all, one of the better treks Geralt had up to Kaer Morhen.
So when they made it through the gate, Geralt's guard was already lowering, trusting in his fellow witchers to watch his back. Seeing Vesemir and Coën waiting for them in the courtyard added immense comfort to that feeling.
Lambert was already greeting Coën, so Geralt nodded to his mentor. "Vesemir."
"Wolf. I see you brought company with you." He looked pointedly at Trevor.
When Trevor stepped forward though, Geralt felt something was off. The feeling only increased when Trevor lowered the scarf around his face to reveal little puffs of breath--breaths which were coming far too quickly to be normal. How had Geralt not noticed his struggle? Had it only been during the last stretch?
"Hello," Trevor said, speaking through his apparent exhaustion, "I'm Trevor. Nice to..."
He wavered. Geralt immediately took his side, alarm making his guts twist as Trevor continued to wobble and list. Unable to stay up as he was, Geralt bent just enough to grab Trevor up under the back and knees. Trevor grunted, but tellingly, didn't protest. His quick breaths continued to puff in the cold air. Geralt pulled him close.
"Eskel," he said, and his brother was there, looking just as worried as Geralt felt. "Can you take care of Roach too?"
Eskel blinked--even Coën seemed to turn towards him in surprise--but nodded firmly. "Of course Wolf. Take care of him."
Geralt grunted in agreement.
When he caught Vesemir's eye again, his mentor had a purposefully blank look, but said nothing. It was as good as a blessing from him; They could deal with an actual discussion come morning. Lambert too dragged Coën away, probably to fill him in on more of the details, though Geralt didn't stick around to listen. He swept up to the keep and went inside, bee-lining for his own room.
Trevor shifted in his arms and groaned.
"Not much longer," Geralt promised. "Then we'll have a real bed."
Trevor curled in closer, tucking his head against Geralt's collar.
With the sort of speed Geralt didn't know he had, he made it to his room, set Trevor gently onto the bed, pulled out his extra winter blankets to temporarily drape over him, and lit a fire in the hearth. It wasn't large, but it wouldn't need to be to heat the room--eventually. Until the fire had been burning long enough to heat the chilly stone room, Geralt got to work warming Trevor.
Trevor was still awake, eyes half open and blinking slowly, but at least his breathing had slowed. As Geralt helped remove his boots and outerwear, he checked all his extremities for frostbite. Nothing, thank all the little gods.
Then... he was probably just tired. Geralt frowned as he grabbed an extra set of his softer clothes.
Trevor was human; Not just human, but a young human too. Geralt had forgotten as they tramped up the mountain. Roach and Scorpion were used to it, and the mule was a hardy mountain type. Trevor had gone at a faster speed than he probably should have. Guilt gnawed at Geralt. He hadn't remembered, and Trevor was exhausted. So much so, he was barely awake, only shivering at the chill lingering in the air.
Geralt was extra gentle when changing Trevor; he knew from early experience on that trail that Trevor would wake with strained muscles. Finally, he laid out the blankets properly and tucked Trevor under them. The fire was going well by then and would heat the room soon enough.
After one more check on Trevor, Geralt readied himself. He moved faster than usual, spending the least amount of time necessary on putting away his armor--since he could care for it the next day--and once done went back to look over Trevor again.
Trevor turned very sleepy eyes to him. "'re... Are you with me...?"
Geralt's heart melted. "Yeah, I'm here. Get some rest."
Trevor tried to shuffle, but only grunted and closed his eyes. Geralt took the opportunity to help him, sliding into the bed and pulling Trevor close. With a sigh, Trevor relaxed. Thankfully there was no smell of illness. Under the rapidly fading scents of the cold outdoors, Geralt caught the usual scents of human--a little sweat, the hair oils, and an increasing warmth.
"'M glad," Trevor mumbled. "Trust you."
"Good," Geralt said past the lump in his throat. "Now go to sleep."
"'Kay." And just before Trevor's face went slack with sleep, his weight settling into Geralt's protective hold, he whispered, "Love you Dad."
Geralt sucked in a breath. He couldn't tear his eyes from Trevor. A warmth Geralt hadn't felt in years filled him up, from his head straight down to his toes, better than even the most delicious soup. Just one sentence, and he knew. Protecting Trevor, caring for him, letting him close, he'd done something good. Something right.
It wouldn't matter now what anyone else had to say about it, Geralt would stand by his decision. He felt that all his years of hardship lead to this. No matter what he'd thought before, Geralt had hope that he could do good again. All because of one stubborn boy.
Geralt pressed his nose to Trevor's head, holding him to his chest as he took a shaking breath.
Quietly, but with that same warm, sticky feeling flowing into his voice, Geralt whispered, "Love you too, pup."