Through the Burrow, Beyond the Veil. (Work in Progress)

Chapter 1: A Long Way Home

Chapter Text

Alice had always been a curious young woman, prone to daydreams and flights of fancy. Her golden hair cascaded down her back, held in place by a black ribbon that matched the shine of her polished shoes. On this particular summer afternoon, the air was thick with the scent of blooming roses and freshly cut grass when she spotted a peculiar sight: a white rabbit, pristine fur gleaming in the sunlight, wearing a red waistcoat and anxiously consulting a golden pocket watch.

Without a second thought, Alice chased after the creature, her blue dress billowing behind her as she ran. When the rabbit disappeared down a large hole beneath an old oak tree, she didn't hesitate to follow. Down, down, down she tumbled through the rabbit hole, expecting whimsical nonsense and teatime madness. The walls of the tunnel flashed by in a blur of earthy browns and roots, and Alice found herself wondering just how deep this hole could possibly go.

With a disorienting thud, Alice landed in a dimly lit cavern. Disoriented and slightly bruised, she stumbled to her feet, brushing off dirt and leaves from her once-pristine dress. A faint glimmer of light caught her eye, and she followed it, hoping to find her way back to the surface.

As she emerged from the burrow, Alice found herself in a world far different from the one she'd left behind. Gone were the manicured lawns and vibrant flower beds of her home. In their place stood gnarled, twisted trees with bark like weathered skin, their branches reaching out like grasping fingers. A narrow, winding path stretched before her, disappearing into the gloom of a dark forest.

With no other choice, Alice set off down the foreboding road. The squelch of mud beneath her feet and the occasional distant howl of some unseen creature were her only companions. Mist curled around her ankles, and shadows seemed to move of their own accord just beyond her peripheral vision.

As twilight approached, painting the sky in hues of deep purple and blood red, Alice's heart leapt at the sight of warm light in the distance. She quickened her pace, hope giving new energy to her tired legs. Soon, she found herself before a lonely tavern, an old stone building with a thatched roof that sagged under the weight of years.

Before she even reached for the door, the smell of roasting meat and freshly baked bread wafted out to greet her, making her stomach growl in anticipation. Mingled with the enticing aromas were the sharp scents of ale and pipe smoke. The sound of raucous laughter and the clinking of tankards spilled out into the night, a beacon of life in this strange and intimidating world.

As Alice pushed open the heavy wooden door, its rusted hinges groaning in protest, the cacophony inside fell silent. The air was thick with pipe smoke and the pungent odor of spilled ale. All eyes turned to the young woman in the mud-stained blue dress who looked so out of place among the rough-looking patrons.

Uncomfortable silence gave way to murmurs and leers as Alice made her way to the bar. A group of men in the corner, their eyes glazed from too much drink, nudged each other and grinned wickedly. As Alice timidly asked the barkeep about a talking rabbit, two of the men stood up and sauntered towards her, their intentions clear in their predatory gazes.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the burlier of the two slurred, reaching out to grab Alice's arm. "Looks like we've got ourselves a lost little lamb."

Alice recoiled, her heart pounding in fear. But before the man could touch her, a strong hand gripped his wrist, stopping him cold.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," came a low, gravelly voice.

The white-haired man from the corner now stood between Alice and her would-be assailants. His yellow, catlike eyes glowed with dangerous intensity as he stared down the drunken men.

"This is none of your business, witcher," the second man spat, reaching for a dagger at his belt.

In a blur of motion too fast for Alice to follow, the white-haired man disarmed both attackers and sent them stumbling backwards. "Leave," he growled. "Now."

The men, suddenly sobered by fear, scrambled for the exit, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste to escape.

As the tavern door slammed shut behind them, the white-haired man turned to Alice. His fierce expression softened slightly as he took in her frightened state.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentler now.

Alice nodded, still shaken. "Thank you," she managed to say. "I... I don't know where I am or how I got here."

The man nodded, as if this confirmed something he'd already suspected. "I'm Geralt of Rivia," he introduced himself. "And it seems you're a long way from home."

Geralt's witcher medallion hummed softly, sensing something unusual about this young woman. Whatever had brought her here, he realized, was far from ordinary.

"I'm Alice," she replied, her voice steadying. "And I think I'm going to need your help, Geralt of Rivia."

The witcher sighed inwardly, knowing he was about to be pulled into another strange adventure. But as he looked into Alice's confused blue eyes, he knew he couldn't turn away.

"Alright," he said, gesturing to a nearby table. "Let's sit down, and you can tell me everything from the beginning." As they settled into their seats, Geralt leaned forward slightly. "First, you should know that I'm a witcher - a monster hunter. Whatever brought you here, whatever dangers you might face, I can protect you."

Alice's eyes widened with a mix of awe and relief. "A witcher," she repeated, as if testing the unfamiliar word. Then, with a small smile, she added, "Thank you, Mr. Witcher. I feel safer already knowing you'll help me."

Geralt raised an eyebrow at the unexpected formality but didn't correct her. "Now then," he said, "tell me about this talking rabbit you mentioned."

As Alice began her tale, Geralt listened intently, his mind already working on the mystery of her arrival in this world. Whatever strange journey lay ahead, he was now committed to seeing this young woman safely through it.

Geralt listened intently as Alice recounted her tale of following a white rabbit and falling through a mysterious hole. As she spoke, his brow furrowed in thought, his witcher's instincts prickling with recognition.

"Alice," he interrupted gently, "what you're describing... it reminds me of something we call the Veil."

"The Veil, Mr. Witcher?" Alice asked, curiosity overcoming her nervousness.

Geralt nodded, his yellow eyes distant as he recalled old stories and half-forgotten lore. "It's a sort of... barrier between worlds. Most of the time it's impenetrable, but there have been instances throughout history where it's thinned or torn."

He paused, considering how to explain without overwhelming her. "There are tales, old ones, of humans appearing in our world suddenly. Lost and confused, much like you. Some spoke of strange lands, technologies we've never seen. Scholars believe they came through weaknesses in the Veil."

Alice leaned forward, fascinated despite her predicament. "So there have been others like me?"

"Yes, though it's rare," Geralt confirmed. "The last recorded case I know of was nearly a century ago. A man in strange clothes appeared in Vizima, babbling about horseless carriages and flying machines. Most thought him mad, but a few suspected the Veil."

He fixed Alice with a serious gaze. "If the Veil is involved, your situation is more complex than I first thought. We'll need to be careful. There are those who would seek to exploit such rifts between worlds, and they wouldn't hesitate to use you to do it."

Alice swallowed hard, but squared her shoulders bravely. "I understand, Mr. Witcher. What should we do next?"

Geralt allowed himself a small, approving smile at her courage. "First, we rest. Tomorrow, we'll start looking for answers. I have a feeling this is going to be a long journey, Alice."

As they settled in for the night, Geralt's mind raced with possibilities. If the Veil was indeed weakening again, Alice's arrival could be just the beginning of something much larger – and potentially far more dangerous.

Geralt stood up from the table, his decision made. "Come, Alice. We'll get a room here for the night. You need rest, and..." he glanced at her mud-stained dress, "...a chance to clean up."

After Geralt stood up from the table, Alice nodded gratefully, but then a worried expression crossed her face. "Mr. Witcher, I... I don't have any money. At least, not any that would work here. How can I pay for the room? Or for your help?"

Geralt waved off her concern. "Don't worry about that now. I'll cover our expenses for the moment."

As they approached the innkeeper, Alice fidgeted nervously. "But Mr. Witcher, surely there must be some way...?"

Geralt turned to her, his expression softening slightly as he leaned in closer. "Alice, in these parts, money isn't always what you'd think it is," he whispered. "A witcher's work comes at a cost, but it's not just about gold and silver."

He paused, letting the fire dance across their faces for a moment before continuing. "You see, there are other ways to pay your debts, especially when you're in need of protection as much as you are now."

Alice looked up at him curiously, her blue eyes sparkling with interest.

Geralt smiled gently. "In this world, sometimes the best payment is one of... companionship," he hinted softly.

He let his gaze linger on hers for a moment longer before glancing away, as if to avoid putting pressure on her.

"Alice, you're lost and in need of help. I'm offering my services to see you through this journey. In return, perhaps we can share the comforts of each other's company."

The suggestion hung in the air between them like a promise, unspoken but understood. Alice looked away first, her cheeks flushing slightly as she tried to process Geralt's words.

But when she turned back to him, there was a small smile playing on her lips, and her eyes sparkled with understanding. "I see," she said softly, though the word seemed to carry more weight than its simple meaning would suggest.

Without another word, they reached their room, the tension between them palpable but unspoken. It remained there as they settled in for the night, Geralt's suggestion lingering like a promise of what might come next.

Geralt led Alice into the small room, which contained a single bed, a worn armchair, and a small table a large wooden tub. As Alice took in the cramped quarters, realization dawned on her face.

"Oh," she said, a blush creeping into her cheeks. "I didn't realize we'd be... sharing."

Geralt, noting her discomfort, quickly spoke up. "Don't worry. I'll take the chair. You can have the bed."

Alice shook her head, her proper upbringing kicking in despite the bizarre circumstances. "Oh no, Mr. Witcher, I couldn't possibly—"

"You can and you will," Geralt interrupted gently but firmly. "You've had a trying day. You need proper rest more than I do."

Seeing that she was about to protest again, he added, "Witchers are used to far worse sleeping arrangements. This chair will be a luxury compared to some places I've rested."

Alice bit her lip, still unsure. Geralt, in an attempt to ease her anxiety, moved to the far side of the room and turned his back. "I'll face this way while you wash up and change. There should be a nightgown in the chest at the foot of the bed. When you're done, just let me know and I'll do the same."

The night grew thick with awkward tension as Alice, still shaking from her ordeal, began to undress for her bath. She hesitated over her dress, wondering if she should simply strip down in front of the witcher or find some way to maintain a semblance of dignity.

Geralt, pretending not to notice but very much aware, turned his back and focused on adjusting the small fire he'd lit earlier. The flickering flames cast shadows across his face as he muttered something under his breath, trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Ah... um..." Alice's voice faltered as she finally decided to let her dress fall to the floor. She stood before Geralt in nothing but a lacy chemise that barely covered her hips and shoulders, her eyes fixed on some point beyond his shoulder.

Geralt managed to keep his gaze straight ahead, though a corner of his mouth twitched upwards. He could feel Alice's heat radiating towards him, the soft swaying of her curves as she moved about the room like a tantalizing dance.

"Try not to splash too much water," he called out gruffly, still not looking directly at her but well aware of every detail. "We don't want any... accidents."

Alice's cheeks flushed hotter at his words, and she felt an inexplicable rush of excitement at the thought of making such a mess in front of this man she'd barely met. She slip down the tub as warm water gush over her skin as she began to bathe.

As she scrubbed herself clean, Geralt couldn't help but glance in her direction, his eyes lingering on the creamy expanse of her back before snapping away guiltily. "Uh... just wash your hair good," he called out again, feeling more ridiculous with every passing second.

Alice's laughter echoed through the room, and for a moment, she forgot all about her predicament. She let herself enjoy the feeling of being seen, even if only fleetingly, by this man who seemed determined to keep his distance.

As she rinsed off and stepped out of the tub, Geralt finally turned to face her, trying to look stern but failing miserably as his eyes roamed over her damp skin. Alice wrapped herself in a towel, feeling more self-conscious than she had any right to be.

"Thank you for... um..." she trailed off, unsure what else to say.

Geralt cleared his throat, looking away to hide the smile playing on his lips. "Anytime," he muttered gruffly. "Now, you should get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us."

As the night wore on, Alice finally drifted off to sleep, exhausted from her ordeal. But her rest was short-lived, for soon she heard the sound of Geralt undressing in the room.

She pretended to be asleep, not wanting to intrude but curious as to what he would look like naked. The creaking of the wooden floorboards beneath his feet told her he'd made his way to the tub.

Alice's eyes fluttered open just in time to see Geralt stepping into the warm water with a soft sigh. For a moment, he stood there, letting the water envelop him before beginning to wash himself clean.

As she watched, Alice felt a strange sense of shyness wash over her. She had never seen a naked man before, and yet here one was, right in front of her. His skin glistened with water droplets as he scrubbed himself down with the soap she used earlier.

Her eyes were drawn to his cock which hung loose and limp but still managed to make her feel funny inside. She didn't know why or how it made her feel this way, all she knew was that she felt a strange urge to reach out and touch it.

Alice tried to focus on Geralt's face as he washed himself clean, but her eyes kept drifting back down to his body. He seemed completely unaware of her gaze, too caught up in the act of cleaning himself off.

As he rinsed off and stepped out of the tub, Alice felt a pang of disappointment at being denied one last glimpse. But then she saw Geralt's towel fall away as he reached for his pants, leaving his body exposed to her view once more.

For a moment, they locked eyes, hers filled with wonder and his with amusement at her obvious fascination. Then, with a chuckle, Geralt quickly put on his pants then sat himself down in the chair and prepare for sleep, leaving Alice feeling flustered but also strangely exhilarated.

"I... I suppose we should try to sleep," Alice said hesitantly.

Geralt nodded, settling into the chair. "Indeed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

As Alice climbed into bed, Geralt extinguished the candle, plunging the room into darkness save for the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

"Mr. Witcher?" Alice's voice came softly through the darkness.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For everything."

Geralt allowed himself a small smile in the darkness. "Sleep well, Alice. You're safe here."

As silence fell over the room, both occupants found their minds racing with thoughts of the strange circumstances that had brought them together, and what challenges the next day might bring.