It’s instinctive – the persistent draw of compliance, to be so utterly tangible and sculpted under familiar voice, under his hands. T’was as if he, himself, were constructed of wax and wire, and Iorveth – an artist. His maker in some abstract, heretical sense of the word. A vulnerability unlike any other, though there would be no need for silent pleas to encourage unabating mercy. He’d never been at risk, his being placed gingerly in the other man’s palm, trust an all-consuming force that drew him from FEAR of corruption in his manipulation.
But it’s now he denies that malleability, curving gaze back unto the other and l o c k i n g it in place, unblinking.
❛ Please– ❜
Words caught, smothered, abandoned to the depths of the previously unsaid. Cedric doesn’t speak again in that moment, flitting umber tracing what was old and what was NEW – old, the accent of Iorveth’s cheekbone and the way his lashes dusted over. —- new, the painting of SUFFERING carved into the canvas of his flesh. ( it was coming. it was coming. it was coming and you could have known it was coming but you didn’t. )
There’s caution in his reach, advancing at a pace of ease to let hand rest ‘pon forearm as if fearing feral lash from the man before him. Iorveth could repeat his insistence, but he’s here now – firm, decidedly unrelenting. ( he wants to touch more. he wants to feel the press of skin to skin as their foreheads connect and his thumb grazes over his lower lip and pointedly strays from the tender flesh that heals still but he does not. ) In his eyes existed not pity nor disgust, retracing the steps of cruelty, each jagged edge that led to the devastation of where once was a world he’d oft been lost in. Not pity of a superficial sort to be tucked away in the back of his mind, only to resurfacing when BURDENED with the sight before him. Not disgust that sent him into an act of avoidance, wherein all that they were becomes all that they had been in a fit of REVULSION. In his eyes existed a pain that clawed its way into his throat and wove itself into an intricate lacing ‘round the words that spill.
❛ Please. Come here. ❜
And that lace became a web for all the words that couldn’t free themselves from the clot of apprehension. I missed you. Let me help. You’re still b e a u t i f u l.
I don’t much care to explain or discluse personal matters on the dash, honestly, and I wouldn’t imagine anyone truly wants to read up about them, either, so I’ll write with brevity: I need to take a step away to focus my undivided attention somewhere else for a while, though I do expect to return with equal haste, at least for now.
Anyway I hope everyone has a wonderful evening!!!!!
I don’t much care to explain or discluse personal matters on the dash, honestly, and I wouldn’t imagine anyone truly wants to read up about them, either, so I’ll write with brevity: I need to take a step away to focus my undivided attention somewhere else for a while, though I do expect to return with equal haste, at least for now.
Anyway I hope everyone has a wonderful evening!!!!!
“I am not a woman known for humor, Commander.” Was that very statement facetious? Impossible to tell; Maiwe had learned to hide her feelings well. She was not yet proficient at the Game, but she was not a bumbling child either. Still, Maiwe knew questions from Iorveth came rarely; that she had not yet earned his ire for something seemed remarkable. She tread carefully around him, wanting so badly to unravel the mystery of who he was, afraid that if she misstepped he would vanish back into the forest, taking his units with him. She had suffered the scorn of most of Val Royeux when she employed his services, and could not bear further humiliation. A single nod.
“They say very little of Shartan. A few whispers, not meant for children’s ears. What little I’ve learned, I have learned here, from library books also not meant for my eyes. If I must tolerate the Chantry, than I will have full knowledge of them.” And undermine them, but she let that linger unsaid. He could fill in the gaps as he must. “We are told that the Exalted Marches are when the shems forced us from land that is rightfully ours, that we were never able to recall. Again, little is said beyond that- at least in my clan. I heard about the alienages that resulted from it, but I did not know their horrors. We Dalish seem far more concerned in the wrongs done to us than in righting them.” It hurt to criticize her people, but Maiwe’s eyes had been pried open, and now she held nothing back.
For that, he may have been grateful; a leader reputed for their wit was hardly one he would wish to follow ( if one could call this alliance following ). And yet, it so seemed that Fate had blessed the Inquisition with a Herald worthy of her coadjutors; for now, the trust endowed upon her seemed warranted withal. Few would have sought the services of a congregation of knife-eared bandits, though as it was, she was willing to endure the sneers, the scrutiny, the derision; time would tell if all had been worth the coalition, though he beheld no looming apprehensions.
❝ Quite unfortunate, ❞ a curt intonation, dawning on susurrus, ❝ I would have thought Shartan's tale to be upheld as an inspirational canticle amongst the Dalish; a harrowing reminder of how the shemlen betrayed us, and how the Chantry continues to malign our people. ❞ Perhaps he knew less of the other elves than he had originally presumed or perhaps they had lost more than his kith might have suspected.
❝ An easy feat: falling prey to such a deep hatred; most would rather seethe within it than rectify the fissure itself. ❞ Vengeance was a simpler calling; less humble than swallowing one's pride in favour of a higher cause. ( For justice had no need of such a lofty thing as hubris ). He had known that self-same wrath; the visceral scorn which resonated amongst their kind; he carried it with him, nonetheless, as scars were such quarrelsome things to suture. ❝ If it can be rectified remains to be seen, however. ❞
The gaze which descries her thence is one imbued with perusal: narrowed eye, pressed lips, and still the better half of enigmatic mien remained cloistered in red; the crease of dark brows, mayhaps, remains unnoticeable whilst shrouded in this manner. ❝ Your place at the crux of this...institution may play a part in reshaping that very rapport; but it would be unwise to forget the suffering that all elves have endured at the hands of the humans they're known for their volatility, Inquisitor, not their loyalty. ❞
Omg i love your headcanons so much! Can i ask you something? What do u think about relationships between Iorveth and Geralt? Why is Iorveth so open to him?
haha wow thankyou ;v; im glad someone reads thru my rambling lmAO And wow u are in for one hell of a long essay, my friend, i’m sorry that this is going to get so long.
First off, keep in mind that you can play Geralt in a lot of different ways; like you can be downright terrible to Iorveth, you can side with him and leave him for dead, you can ignore his existence, you can try to turn him over to Loredo, you can side with Roche and leave him for dead in Vergen. You can be extremely cruel to Iorveth, and if that’s the case, a lot of what I value about their relationship and Geralt’s treatment of him is voided. But w/o further ado,
I mean personally I think the relationship between Geralt and Iorveth can be one of the healthiest and most important ones in his entire life, to be quite honest w/ u, though I don’t think that Iorveth is more “open” to Geralt than he is with other people, so to speak; this is probably just a perspective issue, more than anything. ( Nd what I mean by that is, since the player controls Geralt, and doesn’t see Iorveth interact with anyone else more often than not, we can’t really say what he’s like with other people ). For instance, it seems pretty clear that he was open with Ciaran, and close to Saskia; I think it’s just a narrative ambiguity that we only see him being “open” with Geralt.
BUT AT THE SAME TIME, to answer your question, Iorveth is at first willing to speak in lengths to him because he thinks he “owes” it to him. ( nd i think the canon line is “I suppose I owe it to you, Geralt” ??? ) like he thinks he’s repaying the debt that he’s worked up by explaining himself to his ally. It’s...also probably because he thinks that allies should trust one another, at least in part.
Regardless of how you treat Iorveth in Chapter 1, if you side with him, he respects and trusts Geralt. He’s willing to heed criticisms that Geralt has, even if they aren’t...very fair ones ( like u can compare him to Roche; which is...fair, i suppose, but also grounded in skewed observation. Inherently, Iorveth cannot be compared to Roche, as Iorveth is an oppressed man, being oppressed by Roche and people like him. do u see why this is a gross observation to make? saying that Iorveth is akin to Roche in actions is...somewhat true, but at the same time, they are necessarily different people. Yet Iorveth still heeds the critique of his person, albeit sadly, because he respects what Geralt thinks; he trusts his opinion, by Chapter 2 ).
Moreover, if you’re nice to him in Chapter 1 and you side with Roche, he’ll be honest with you when you meet him again in Vergen; like he’ll say how everything’s hopeless and Vergen’s going to fall and there won’t be a possibility for a country that’s free for all the races lmao ( WHICH IS SO DEPRESSING AND TRAGIC BUT THIS IS THE DISCONTENTMENT AND SORROW THAT IORVETH IS HIDING FROM U IF UR MEAN TO HIM IN CHAP. 1 LMAO !! it’s so sad )
BUT ANYWAY, this is all rooted in respect and trust; Iorveth values those who he can put his faith in and those he sees worthy of his respect ( and ppl like that are very scarce, after he’s been betrayed so many times ). Geralt can prove himself to be someone entirely honest and kind-hearted, if the player so chooses, but regardless of how you act towards Iorveth personally, he still...winds up liking Geralt because of all that he does for Vergen and the nonhumans. tbh Iorveth really values actions over words; he wouldn’t care if Geralt literally called him a scummy terrorist ( which u can do ), but he likes him because of what he accomplishes on behalf of the people of Vergen, on behalf of the nonhumans who need the help. Iorveth cares for people who care about justice for the oppressed elder races. And Geralt does, or at least acts like he does, if you side with him.
Like this is an important camaraderie, friendship, whatever u may call it, bec Geralt is someone that doesn’t fuck over Iorveth ( well...I MEAN YOU CAN BUT.......u would have to be the worst kind of person lol ), and works towards helping the nonhumans. There’s a lot of faith and respect between them; like Geralt actually ?? defends Iorveth while talking to Saskia, Geralt can actually care about Iorveth if the player wants him to...and that’s so rare for him lmfao like Iorveth has all of -15 friends okay. For someone to care about his well-being is just. incredible. It’s important. Iorveth is a man who doesn’t care about himself; he’s a man who has destroyed and suppressed his personhood in favour of helping his people and the rest of the elder races. He’s selfless, but in a self-destructive way. That someone is actively looking out for him is really great, in my opinion.
And by the end of Chapter 3, if you help Saskia, he literally?? adores you. It’s so endearing tbh he literally looks at you with the widest grin on his face; he’s so happy 2 see that ur alive and well. He calls u the noblest human that he knows and i just!!!!! Iorveth loves u ok he loves u so Very much; this relationship is Important 2 me if ur kind 2 him. ( But ?? only if you’re kind to him. Like idk if u hit him w/ the sword and don’t help him in Vergen honestly I dont want 2 talk 2 u pls dont abuse my Son he’s a good dude and he deserves the friendship tbh!!!!! )
I mean if we really want to deconstruct their friendship and what Geralt means to him exactly, we’re going 2 have to get extremely homogay and talk about the fact that Iorveth’s religion is strictly based in real, living people. ( As in, he doesn’t believe in the gods of his people; he believes in living persons, like Saskia, like Geralt ). In a lot of ways, the line “you’re the noblest human I know” is like...extremely important. In the same way that Saskia has restored his faith for the future, Geralt’s restored his faith in humans; if all dh’oine are half as good as him, perhaps there’s a chance that things will change for the better. Geralt being kind to him isn’t simply Iorveth being glad that he’s made a friend ( in fact, I doubt that he even thinks of it like that ), it’s him being happy that a person like Geralt even exists. He’s glad that someone as good as Geralt is a human, who’s done all of this for the nonhumans. Keep in mind that Iorveth and the elder races have suffered at the hands of humanity for over one-hundred years; keep in mind that Iorveth lost almost all hope that the relationship between nonhumans and humans could ever be sutured, and if not for Geralt, that hope would have been destroyed. His dream of creating a place with true equality would have been laid to waste. Geralt is to Iorveth and the nonhumans what Saskia is to him tbh. He’s that important; what he’s done is that important.
Tbqh, it’s an extremely good experience for him, and an extremely beneficial and healthy friendship, imo.
LIPS PURSED INTO a thin line. How strange, someone was looking for Geralt. ❛ No, you haven’t mistaken. ❜ A sigh came out from her mouth right after the words. ❛ Sadly, your White Wolf isn’t here any longer, as you can see. ❜ Arms extended, she was the only one, besides him, standing in the cottage. ❛ You’ll have to look somewhere else to find him. ❜ No, she wasn’t going to offer help because she knew if she did he would accept and she was tired of helping people for nothing in return.
❝ Oh, how imprudent of me, ❞ a locution saturated with derision, exhumed from a sordid lip twisted by harsh sneer therewith; whoever claimed that the Woodland Fox was not a man of humour had never come upon that contumely laugh. ❝ I’d nearly forgotten that sorceresses are seldom known for their charity. ❞ A shift in posture permits caesura to hail, though stalwart vexation has not yet waned. Perchance the pursuit itself was one of fruitless merit: a whisper which eschewed little more than dead ends and hapless wandering. He accepts the good news as it is begotten, however, fortuitous as it was. ❝ Scouring the countryside in hopes of finding him had not been my objective; I’d only hoped to seek confirmation that he still lived, nothing more. ❞
a character: [just wants to be Loved and repeatedly makes awful decisions while desperately trying to find people that will at least throw even the tiniest scraps of genuine caring and concern their way and ultimately pretty much destroys themselves because of this]
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