Chapter Text
The Belmont Hold, hidden beneath some rubble, and protected by death-magic spells, apparently did not like intruders. Imagine that.
"Tell me again," Aiden said, while finishing tying a bandage around Lambert's bicep, "why we are doing this?"
By "this", he meant traversing into a secret hunter family hold, which was apparently riddled with traps both mundane and magical. And for what, some trinket he might have known about because he'd talked to a survivor of their burning? ...Okay, that wasn't fair. Aiden knew how Lambert felt about the kid his brother had adopted. Still.
Lambert grunted, tested his range of motion by moving his arm around, and turned to keep walking. "We're already here. Let's find what we came for."
"Uh-huh. We've been in situations like this before, what with the unexpected traps and all. Never once have you said 'well we're here, let's finish things up properly.'"
Lambert turned to give him a glare; Aiden smiled unrepentantly back. They managed for another few levels down, nearly at the ground, when a quiet click gave them warning to jump to the side, dodging several arrows and then a magical circle which lit up only briefly before disappearing. Thanks the gods, because the last magic trap they stumbled into down there had not been kind. They paused, waiting, Aiden up against a wall, and Lambert crouched down several lengths away. Once nothing else appeared, they sighed.
"That, hopefully, is the last of it," Lambert grumbled.
"Unless they put more in the room with all their treasures."
"Are you trying to be helpful?"
"Not at all," Aiden said cheerfully, laughing a bit at the sour expression on Lambert's face. "Just thinking, you must like this kid a lot, huh?"
"Will you shut up and move?" Something Lambert himself tried to do, but his quick movements up and over to the only door made him briefly falter in his stride. Aiden smelled the blood of a reopened wound immediately.
"Oh, that's not good."
Aiden did try to keep his tone light, but really, he'd never seen Lambert push himself like that. Not that they never got hurt, but there was no reason not to pause and heal a little more now, since there was no deadline, and no monsters chasing them. He jogged over to Lambert, feeling that his own wounds were closing themselves easily enough, most bruises anyway; The benefits of being a more agile cat witcher.
"C'mon Lamb," Aiden said, softer. "Let's just sit down and take a look over ourselves again, alright? We're not leaving, but better to be in good shape if we can, yeah?"
Lambert made a face, looking like he was clenching his jaw, but eventually he sighed. "Yeah yeah, fine."
Aiden made good on his promise, immediately getting to work on undoing the bandage which was soaking through again, luckily a cut on the outside of Lambert's thigh, far from any joints or important arteries, but deep enough to be a problem just the same. Aiden grabbed one of Lambert's own swallow potions from his belt, ignoring the grumbling, and put it in Lambert's hand. Thankfully, his best friend did not try to give it back, downing the potion even if he did grumble. That was usual for Lambert's attitude anyway, and Aiden was rather used to it. It was kind of cute, like an angry pup making noises to seem bigger and more threatening. Lambert was, of course, since he was a good witcher, but he was always so soft with people he cared about. Aiden felt lucky to be one; He hoped Geralt's kid did, too.
"This means a lot, doesn't it?" Aiden asked, quieter this time. Lambert waited, watching as Aiden re-bandaged the slowly closing wound.
"...Yeah."
"To you? him?"
"This is. It's his only inheritance. His-" Lambert sighed, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back away from his face where it constantly escaped his little ponytail. "His family all died. But they seemed a good sort to witchers, according to Vesemir."
Aiden nodded. The cats had their own stories of the Belmonts, though they weren't always in the area to enjoy the advantages the minor noble family used to give.
"The kid. He deserves something of his old family. And he can't come back here." Not now was unsaid, but heard. Humans had short memories, but short lives as well. By the time the kid could come back with some safety in being forgotten, he'd be far older, surely.
"So we're getting something for him. That's pretty sweet of you Lamb." Lambert shoved at Aiden with his free foot, making his laugh. "Now if only we knew what we were looking for."
Lambert cursed at him again, but did accept the hand to stand up, when Aiden offered.
Aiden might not know the kid, the young Belmont, last of his family, but if he inspired that kind of reaction and loyalty in Lambert, he had to be a good kid. Quietly, knowing the curse of speaking too much aloud for fate to hear, Aiden hoped he got to meet that Belmont someday.