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onthepageoftears · 4 years

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Hold Them Closer ~ Ch.7 [Jaskier x assassin!reader] || Witcher

A/N: It’s been less than a week and school is kicking my ass :) lol anyway i hope yall enjoy this chapter!

Summary: All that lies ahead is a skeleton of what you called home.

Warnings: mentions of killing/death/murder, insinuations of attack, language, slight angst and comfort

Words: 2,638

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

The sky was bright, not a cloud to block any of the sun’s shine. The local farmers wiped tirelessly at the sweat that formed on their foreheads, but still, they smiled. Days like this didn’t come often, so a smile was a silent thank you to whoever blessed them with the hopeful weather.

You watched the square with a smile on your face, noticing the uplift in everyone’s spirits. A chicken walked aimlessly past the well that sat in the middle of the area, where your mother was gathering some water to bring back to your house. You giggled as she pulled the bucket from the well, accidentally sloshing some water onto the chicken’s back. It clucked, rushing past your mother and shaking its body to rid itself of water. But even in the chicken’s annoyance, it was probably happy as well. It was a nice day for everyone, no matter what happened.

You opened your eyes, almost shocked by the sight in front of you. Your memory hit you like whiplash as you stood in front of your now abandoned village, the darkness of night looming over you, almost as a threat. Even in the daytime you guessed that your village would feel dark and dim, now empty of the life you once witnessed it having.

You sighed, placing your hands on your knees as you kneeled in the same spot you once did as a child. Though you told yourself this could very well lead to nothing, the fact that it did make your heart shrink. At the very least, you thought you could ask the locals what happened to your mother — but there was no one here. Not a trace of anything, it seemed. It was a lost cause.

Footsteps crunched behind you, but you didn’t bother to turn. Next to you, Jaskier kneeled, placing a hand on your back with a sigh. He didn’t say anything for a bit — just watched the scene before you, waiting for you to speak.

To him, this place was just another abandoned village. You came across many of them before, stayed in some empty houses for a night despite the risk of them collapsing right then and there — but this…this was your home. It was the only home you considered calling home, despite the many places you and Rauf stayed in. And now, it was ruined.

“How did you know this was your village?”

You shrugged at Jaskier’s question, “I just…knew.” You took a sharp breath in, “And I still have the memories.”

He nudged you gently. “Tell me about them.”

You blinked as he looked over at you, avoiding his gaze. You kept your eyes on the well whose roof was on the brink of falling over. “This area was always so…alive. Kids would run around barefoot with chickens chasing after them for stealing eggs.”

You snorted, but your face stayed grim. “I thought they would still be here. Kids wandering, people doing their chores and…waiting to go home for supper.” You fought the tears that brimmed your eyes as you turned to Jaskier, whose face was as grim as yours. “What happened here?”

“I don’t know.” Jaskier took your hand in his own, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “I don’t know what it was like before, but I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it. The life. Even if it is just my imagination.”

He watched you a moment longer, squeezing your hand so you would focus on him once more. “Let’s look around. You never know what we might find.”

With a deep breath, you let Jaskier pull you up with him, though standing felt like a chore in itself. Your limbs were heavy as the two of you walked through the village, passing Geralt a couple times on the short walk.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, part of you not believing it was real. Though you left at a young age, the memories flooded you with every step, making what you were seeing so much worse. The houses that were now decrepit were once strong, with torches just by the front doors and someone sitting in a chair saying hello to their neighbors. The emptiness was shocking, and every time you felt it overwhelming you, you squeezed Jaskier’s hand.

Despite your weariness, Jaskier led the two of you inside some of the buildings. It was strange, entering houses that you knew people had lived in before. It wouldn’t have been strange if you didn’t remember the village, but knowing your neighbors once lived in these places — laughed, breathed, slept, ate — you felt like an intruder. Maybe you were one.

However long your village had been abandoned, it didn’t seem like stragglers found this place. If they did, they didn’t think it was worth it to stop and steal the leftover items. Some houses still had good blankets, leftover food (not that it was still good), forgotten coin. Others didn’t have the same luxury — they were ransacked, all essentials gone, leaving any useless items behind. That could only mean that the people from your village left in a hurry, or didn’t get the chance to leave at all.

The thought made you shiver, but maybe it was the cool air. The sky was almost completely dark by now, and the three of you met in the same square that you had been sitting in before. Geralt had a fire started already, acknowledging you and Jaskier with a grim nod as you sat across from him.

Jaskier was the first to speak, “I don’t understand.” No one responded. You were too busy staring at the embers that flew towards the sky, disappearing just as quickly as they appeared. Jaskier continued anyway, “What would make everyone just…up and leave?”

Geralt grunted. “Bandits?”

You took a sharp breath through your nose, eyes flicking to the ground in front of you. “That, or assassins.” You didn’t wait for a response to continue. “From his entries, I don’t think Rauf came back. But maybe his men did.”

The words settled in the silence of the night, making you shiver. Rauf lied about so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot to mention that his men tried to find your mother for him. He wasn’t the type to forgive and forget, clearly. So why would he have truly let your mother live? He was too much of a coward to kill her himself, so he might as well have sent people to do his dirty work for him.

It’s not like it would be the first time.

Jaskier touched your arm gently, bringing you back to reality. “Your house — do you remember where it is?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Of course,” you whispered. How could you forget? You directed Jaskier away from it purposefully, not wanting to face what might have happened there. So many times you had visited your home in your dreams, but nothing good ever came from it. You feared it would be too painful to see the state of your house, because then, the memories you had clutched onto so delicately might perish forever.

When Jaskier didn’t answer you, you croaked out a, “Why?”

It was Geralt who responded. “Whoever came here didn’t come to loot.”

You turned your gaze to Geralt, wondering what he was getting at. “What do you mean?”

Jaskier spoke, “Some houses had stuff taken out of it, but others were left practically untouched.”

“Looters would never leave that much coin behind. Not unless they were blind.”

You blinked, letting their words swirl around your mind. You had noticed the same things, but the pieces hadn’t formed in your head. Perhaps your nostalgia was making your brain foggier than usual. You frowned at the information, working out the facts out loud.

“So the people who came here had a goal.” Your frown deepened. “It must have been Rauf’s assassins.”

“Maybe. But still—“ Jaskier turned to you, thoughtfulness etched in his face, “If we check your house…well, what I’m trying to say is — if the essentials are taken…maybe your mother got away.”

Maybe she got away. The thought made a spark ignite in your chest. As soon as it was there, you pushed it back. You didn’t want to be disappointed again, so you set your lips in a tight line.

“She could have left before the attack.”

Jaskier nodded, hope still surfacing his blue irises. “But if we check the house, you’ll be able to tell what stuff was hers, right? You’ll be able to know if she was living there when they…attacked.”

You pondered this, considering the man’s words. Though your memories were a bit scattered, you could remember your home relatively clearly. With a deep breath in, you pushed yourself up from the ground beneath you.

“Let’s go.”

—

The house stood before you, though stood was a strong word. The outside felt…off, definitely lower to the ground than it had been before. Still, it was too dark to truly tell, despite the makeshift torch Jaskier held. But it definitely wasn’t as you remembered it. It wasn’t nearly as comforting to see as it might have been in your memories.

“I can go in for you,” Jaskier said, his voice just above a whisper.

You shook your head, “No. I have to see this myself.”

You forced your feet to step forward, Jaskier just behind you. You blinked, noticing that the door to your old house wasn’t just open — it had been ripped off the hinges.

You let out a breath and pushed aside any fear that lingered in your movements. Stalling wouldn’t help anybody.

But as soon as your feet past the threshold, it felt like you were transported. Despite the darkness outside, you remembered the mornings with your mother making you breakfast, when the sun had begun shining through the windows and leaving rays of light on the cracked floors. You remembered the hum of your mother’s voice, the scratchy fabric of your homemade clothes, the way the wood floor felt under your bare feet.

“Come eat, Y/N.” You turned our head to the right, where your mother cut the bread she had just made onto the small table your father made not long ago.

You rushed to the food — it wasn’t much, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t know what you were missing, or that this wasn’t the usual food everyone ate. Your mother had done a good job of hiding the fact that you were quite poor, trying to keep your innocence as long as possible.

As you took small bites of your bread, you watched your mother walk out of the main room and into the room where the three of you slept — it was a small area, with no door, and only two beds. Your father and mother would squeeze into one of the twin sized beds, leaving you the other. But right now, your mother wasn’t going to lay down, she was going to get something. Something important.

You blinked in the darkness of the room, slightly overwhelmed by the memory.

“What are you thinking?” Jaskier’s voice nearly startled you, but you shrugged it off.

After the flash of your memory, you immediately felt a pit in your stomach. The main room was practically ripped to shreds — the table you used to eat at was cracked in half, drawers ripped from their places, items thrown on the floor, forgotten.

You slammed your eyes closed, hoping some of your memories would help you. The state of your old home made your stomach churn, but what Jaskier said before circled your mind. Just because it looked like a wreck didn’t mean she was killed — it just meant the people who did this were sent to wreak havoc if she wasn’t. The only way to know if your mother got away was if there was something important, something essential, that she needed to take with her.

The memory you recalled from before hit you again:

“What’s that?” You said, swallowing the last of your breakfast. Your eyes were wide with curiosity as your mother sat at the table beside you; she cradled something in her palms, a somewhat serious expression on her face.

“My sweet, sweet child. You know I love you very much, and I love our life more than anything.”

You nodded. Your mother was always a positive person, a charmer. It was no wonder so many people loved her.

Even so, she was quite a lonely woman. A lot of her time was spent taking care of you while your father worked as much as possible. You loved it, having her company — still, she was a dreamer. She wanted more for the both of you, however she had to get it.

She continued talking to you, but was mostly talking to herself.“I appreciate everything your father does for us…but someday, it might not be enough. And I fear that we may need to make a change, soon.” You didn’t interrupt her, eyes still trained on her closed palms. “This is a very important item. It was passed down from my mother to me, and is meant to be passed to you as well.”

You widened you eyes even more, captured by her statement. Wordlessly, she opened her palms, revealing the shiniest thing you had ever seen. It was a necklace with some sort of jewel at the center of it — even though you didn’t know exactly what it was, you knew it was probably worth a lot.

“Your father doesn’t know about this. Because this gift is yours as much as it is mine, I want to ask your permission for something.” You blinked, surprised by your mother’s forwardness. You were only eight after all, so a decision being placed on your shoulders felt strange. Still, you listened to your mother like her words meant everything to you — because they did. “If we sell our necklace, we can start a new life. We can have our own shop, maybe even a small farm—“

You perked up, “And animals?”

Smiling, your mom nodded. “And animals.” She reached forward to rub a crumb off your cheek, her eyes full of love.“What do you say?”

You smiled, “Okay.”

To you, the memory only lasted seconds. It was hazy at best, a jumble of expressions and feelings that didn’t make all that much sense. But what you knew for sure was that your mother saw that piece of jewelry as the key to your future, and would never have left the house without it.

Without a word, you trudged past the wreckage and walked into the side room where you used to sleep. Your heart was thumping in your chest as you leaned down, hope falling in you as the hiding spot in the floorboards was already ripped open. Swallowing your fear, you reached your hand into the crevice, feeling around the space like your hand would burn if it touched anything other than the ground.

With a breathy laugh, you stood from your spot, turning back to Jaskier in the darkness.

You could see his confusion in the light of the torch. “What is it?”

You smiled slowly, hope rumbling in your chest. Never in your life had the absence of something meant so much — but right now, finding a seemingly priceless jewel would have ruined your entire journey.

You nodded your head at Jaskier, rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him towards you in a passionate kiss, feeling one of his hands find the small of your back.

When you pulled away, you kept your forehead to his, a smile finding it’s way on your face. “She got away.”

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:O let me know your thoughts!

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bornwanderer-blog · 7 years

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No right answer – thoughts that circled my head on the trip, most of which have no conclusion

Part II: Natural Remedies vs. Modern Medicine

An hour into our first day hiking the Inka Trail, our guides paused for a break underneath a shelter with thin wooden benches along the perimeter. I was now double my normal width so my pack fit on the bench but my butt didn’t -so for a while I awkwardly leaned, refusing to take my pack off. An older woman sat on a wall with her ankles crossed working on some piece of fabric across the path from us. A stray chicken and a boy ran around the shelter. After an early pick-up and rushing to starting points and check points, it was a moment where we had nothing better to do than take a sip of water, breathe, and look around. The guides did the normal get-to-know everyone thing and 16 strangers began to try and remember each other’s names.

But then our guide Raul, changed direction a bit and asked “What happens when the people who live here get sick?” Bleakly, in my head, I thought “they die?” We are on a trail into the forest. There’s a train several miles away, but that’s probably expensive. There are no roads. There’s the Urubamba river, but that’s miles away and it doesn’t look like a tranquil float. Even if you do find transportation after walking miles, there’s only a small hospital (for tourists, mostly) at the base of Macchu Picchu in Aguas Calientes (at this point, that’s a four day walk away for us) or back in Cusco, a two-hour bus ride away at best. Even if they make it to a hospital, could they afford the bill and prescriptions? If you live out here, you’re probably a farmer eking out a living from the land – where is there money for transportation and care? But Raul takes a different tact that makes my foreboding thoughts feel true but naïve. Plants, he says. The locals make medicines from what’s around them. People don’t take obstacles laying down – they invent and learn and use the resources at their disposal to the best of their abilities.

Which brings us to literal herbal remedies. The Peruvian’s seemed to have a tea for everything. Upset stomach? I’ll make you a special tea. Diarhhea? I’ll make you a special tea. Period cramps? Headache? Sore muscles? Altitude sickness? Special tea. Special tea. Special tea. Special tea. And the favored tea? Coca. As in the leaves that are eventually processed and concentrated into Cocaine. At leaf level, the effects are not as deleterious and instead act as a sort of pain relief. (E.g. Coca Cola used to have real cocaine in it and was first advertised as medicinal.) The porters shove leaves directly between their teeth and cheek, sucking out the juices as they haul pounds of gear. All of us Westerners brought along mini-pharmacies for the hike. So for sore muscles it was Ibuprofen and tea; for an upset stomach it was pepto bismal and tea.

Mike nurses his morning coca tea as he tries to recover from the war-crime ridden bathroom

I have a lot of opinions on America’s healthcare system. Like how Mike’s altitude sickness prescription cost $10 with his insurance and mine was $50 and that only marriage or the kindness of my employer can fix that because insurance options (and Congress) suck. The U.S. has some of the most expensive healthcare in the world – maybe a Peruvian hospital stay is affordable; in the U.S., it’s the number one reason people file for bankruptcy. Though, obviously, I am more privileged than most of the world by sheer access to vaccines and medicine. But that’s not what I want to get into right now. What I want to get into is how that altitude sickness prescription made us feel. Diamox is the only drug out there that treats altitude sickness, everything else just attempts to mask the symptoms. Everyone used to sea-level quantities of oxygen feel lightness of breath at higher altitudes – but, for a random few, altitude sickness is like day one of the flu where you are puking your brains out, your head is pounding, and even the thought of moving is too exhausting to contemplate. Luckily, Mike and I took our Diamox – so we have no idea if we are part of the percentage that gets altitude sickness – but we also avoided all that grossness. However, there were side effects: first a tingly feeling like your hands and feet had fallen asleep and were now on pins and needles and then, for Mike, diarrhea. Which is not the greatest when you only see two (disgusting, brutally smelling) toilets a day and your next best option is a bush (also don’t worry, Mike didn’t suffer alone – I got my period and was in a nearby bush – lol so much TMI right now). Those side effects are still way better than day one of the flu but our beautiful western medicine still came at a price. I don’t think any tea has been scientifically proven to stop altitude sickness, but it also probably doesn’t have side effects.

I have no idea if the Coca leaves or Ibuprofen got me through four days of hiking (probably the Ibuprofen). And I have no idea if Quechua tea, herbal pills bought off of Amazon (ran into a lovely Mormon Utahan couple who did this – but seriously, yall, who knows what’s in those?!?! They’re not regulated by the FDA!), or a prescription of Diamox ultimately solved people’s altitude sickness or other ailments (it’s probably the Diamox). There are ways to overuse and abuse western medicine – we could have taken less of it after a day or two at altitude to try and minimize the side effects had we known what they were.

(...sidenote: If acetominophin can cause liver damage, are Coca leaves really that bad? …I might have just sounded really stupid just now and I actually don’t know the answer to this – can a real scientist help me out? Or is this more of a social science thing of what substance could be more easily abused? – like actetominophin doesn’t eventually become cocaine …)

Ok…I got sidetracked… what I mean is beyond the hype, I would like scientific progress and the search for truth to win. I would like pain relief and comfort to win. We still have a lot to learn from tea (and local remedies in general) though - I’d just like to observe their effects with repeatable, double-blind studies.

#coca #coca tea #coca leaves #herbal remedies #science #western medicine #tea #healthcare #altitude sickness #diamox

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edgewaterfarmcsa · 6 years

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FALL CSA: week 1

PICK-LIST

potatoes - carrots - green tomatoes - a radish bunch or a cucumber or a kol rabi -

shishito peppers - sweet pepper - cayenne pepper - napa cabbage -

bok choy - raspberry - watermelon - cilantro - eggs

KITCHEN LIST:

spicy zucchini bread - potato leek soup

BONUS LIST:

B.Y.O .Bouquet

Leftover farmstand greens and herbs (first come first served)

HERE WE GO FALL CSA!!

I am overjoyed by the start of the Fall CSA Season- bring on the roots, the cool crisp greens, those summer crops that keep hanging on (hello watermelon) and the 5 day work week! BOOM!

Bottomline y’all, welcome and I do hope you dig the next 7 weeks.

That said, let’s move on to the more pressing information that will certainly affect your weekly share. A few weeks ago, our chickens were attacked. While the majority of the hens made it, there were 30 casualties along the way. So this week, we start you all off with a ½ dozen eggs. Perhaps as the weeks progress, there maybe a chance at a dozen as our supply starts to grow again. But, don’t count on it.

I’m actually pretty blown away by this change of pick-list. It’s a real first for us. The beauty behind a CSA is that the community invests in the farm up-front. As a result, the CSAer has pretty low expectations of what the weekly share will look like, and ideally rolls with whatever the season supplies the farmers. To put it bluntly, there is always a risk of crop failure and as a share-holder, you are aware of that risk. However, In all my years of running the CSA, we have never truly had a crop entirely fail. Enter, the runaway dog that certainly affected one of my most beloved crops- the chickens. There is a real lesson in CSAmenship happening right here and I do hope you are ok rolling with the punches. To soften the blow, here is a pint of raspberries.

TIPS - TRICKS - RECIPES

Kimchi (taken from Sandor Katz's Wild Fermentation)

Yall- i made this back in JULY, and i am still enjoying daily- not kidding here people… I hear a little lacto-fermented food a day keeps the doc away, so dig in!

Makes 1 quart

sea salt 1 pound chinese cabbage (napa or bak choi) a few radishes

1-2 carrots 1-2 onions, leeks, a few scallions, or shallots 3-4 cloves of garlic

3-4 hot red chilies, depending on how hot you like your food, or any form of hot pepper, fresh, dried, or in a sauce

3 tablspn fresh grated ginger root

Mix a brine of 4 cups water and 4 tablespoons of salt. The brine should taste good and salty. Coarsely chop the cabbage, slice the radish and carrots, and let the vegetables soak in the brine, covered by a plate or other weight to keep the vegetables submerged until soft. This can take a few hours or overnight is even better. Add other vegetables to the brine such as snow peas, seaweeds, Jerusalem artichokes, anything you like.

Prepare the spices: grate the ginger, chop the garlic an onion, remove seeds from the chilies and chop or crush, or throw them in whole. Kimchi can absorb a lot of spice. Mix spices into a paste. You can add fish sauce to the spice paste, just make sure it has no chemical preservatives which function to inhibit microorganisms.

Drain brine of vegetables after soaking. Reserve the brine. Taste the vegetables for saltiness. You want them salty but on unpleasantly so. If they are too salty, rinse them. If you cannot taste the salt, sprinkle a couple teaspoons and mix.

Mix the vegetables with the ginger-chili-onion-garlic paste. Mix everything together and stuff it into a clean quart size jar. Pack it lightly, pressing down until brine rises. If necessary, add a little of the reserved, vegetable soaking brine to the submerged vegetables. Weigh them down with a small jar, or a ziplock bag filled with some brine. If you remember, you can just push them down with your fingers. Cover the jar to keep our dust and flies. Ferment in your kitchen or other warm place. Taste it every day. After about a week, when it tastes ripe, move it to the refrigerator or cool storage space like a root cellar or a hole in the ground.

Serves 4-6

Although this salad can be made at the last minute, it doesn’t suffer from being dressed hours earlier, which makes it a good picnic salad. Add the peanuts just before serving so they’ll be nice and crunchy.

THE SALAD

½ cup skinned raw peanuts 1 teaspoon peanut oil 1 large carrot

4 cups thinly sliced Napa cabbage 2 cups slivered bok choy leaves

3 thin scallions, including some of the greens, finely sliced diagonally

¼ cup chopped cilantro 2 tablespoons chopped mint leaves

2 tablespoons torn basil leaves, Preferably Thai basil

THE DRESSING

½ cayenne chile, finely diced ¼ cup rice vinegar 1 teaspoon sugar

¼ teaspoon sea salt ¼ cup roasted peanut oil

Heat the peanuts in the oil over medium-low heat, shaking the pan occasionally, until lightly browned after a few minutes. Blot with paper towels and set aside.

Peel the carrot with a vegetable peeler and discard the skins. Then, with the vegetable peeler, continue removing long strips of the carrot until you’ve reached the core.

Combine the cabbage, bok choy,, and carrot with everything except the nuts.

Whisk the dressing ingredients together and toss with the greens. Add the peanuts just before serving.

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