Yennefer followed the rode towards Corvo Bianco. She spent most of the trip cursing her horse's rebellious nature. And she was tired. She couldn't teleport, for she wasn't familiar with the area. As she approached the vineyard, it was not as she expected. The land was vast and rich, with people working the fields and a few children running wild rather than helping. Yennefer was quite wealthy, though she knew that she couldn't match the expenses of this estate.

She led her horse to the stables, still in the middle of its renovations. A young boy, possibly at the age of twelve, was tending to the stable. Or at least he was supposed to. He was carving something out of the old scraps of wood. He jumped with excitement when he saw her.

"I'll take your horse!"

She dismounted and gave the boy the rains.

"You're here to visit the master?"

"Yes."

He laughed as the horse nudged his face, taking a liking to the young boy. "His horse isn't here, I'm sure Mister Barnabus Bassel could let you wait inside."

"Who is he?"

"The steward."

Yennefer reached to take her belongings off the horse.

"No, No, m'lady. I can gather your stuff."

Yennefer smiled. She noticed that she smiled more often. "Such a gentlemen for a young lad."

"I'm not young. I'm almost a man!"

"Of course."

She thanked the young boy and even gave him a gold coin to buy a treat with. She walked to the house and reached to open the door, when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned to see who it was. He was rather short, bald and wore interesting glasses.

"What do you think you are doing m'lady?"

"Opening the door?"

He straightened up, trying to make himself seem taller, clearly not liking her sarcastic retort. "No one is allowed in until the master…Hey! Wait!"

Yennefer had entered the house and slammed the door behind her. Barnabus was enraged, he had no idea what he should do.

The interior was astonishing. A long table stood in the middle and the floors where decorated with expensive carpeting. On the opposite end, were three stands where Geralt displayed his armor, and on the walls, hung his swords. Yennefer walked into the small dining room and stared at the painting on the wall.

Geralt's horse galloped towards the stables. He noticed that there was another horse the boy was tending to. Geralt dismounted and handed the reigns to the boy, who eagerly took Roach to his place. For some reason, every horse seemed to take a liking to the boy. Geralt found that strange.

"Were your brothers not hired to finish the stables?"

"Yes they were, Sir."

"And where are they?"

"I don't know," The boy shrugged, "They said they'll be back."

Geralt sighed, "Go home kid, the sun is setting soon," Geralt said, handing the boy a gold coin. The boy hurried home, elated to have two gold coins in one day.

Geralt made his way to the house to see Barnabus pacing back and forth.

"Master Witcher! Some unknown individual barged into the residence. I resisted as best I could, but to no avail," he said frustratingly.

"Who is it?"

"Alas, they did not do the basic courtesy of introducing themselves."

Geralt nodded and went inside. He inhaled the scent of lilac and gooseberries. He knew she was here. He went to the dining room and saw her there, waiting for him in her usual black and white attire.

"Unexpected as ever," he said. She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. "And beautiful as ever," he whispered to her ear.

"Won't you ask why I've come? Or how I found you?"

"Wouldn't get a straight answer anyway." He smiled.

"True." She walked out to the main hall, then turned to him.

"Used to bother me, all you secrets. But now I know that if you have something to tell me, you'll tell me."

"I missed you Geralt, madly."

"Come," She said as she held out her hand to Geralt, "Lets hold hands and stare at the sky, like some shitty two-crown romance."

They sat outside and talked. Silence fell over them as the sun set. The silence between them was never awkward, it was equally pleasant as to when they spoke aloud. But this time, Geralt could feel the tension in the air; he could feel the words that they both left unsaid. Geralt did not leave things at a good note when he left to take the contract for Olgierd Von Everic. He did not expect matters to take so long, then right when he finished he was called to Toussaint with no time to write to her. He was surprised by her affectionate tone in the letter she wrote to him, and was equally surprised that she came here to visit him. But he was not about to complain. It was quite the opposite: he was relieved.

Yennefer knew that Geralt would never truly settle down, he's not one to do so. The few weeks before he left, he was very agitated. It was like he was going through withdrawal from his addiction to the adrenaline rush, danger, and excitement of The Path. She had allowed him to take the occasional contracts from around the area, but they paled in comparison to when he ventured off to the ends of the world. They felt more like a chore and he despised it. Yennefer's intuition was not comfortable with the contract he found in Seven Cats Inn. This lead to a heated argument.

"Geralt, I shouldn't have argued with you about the contract." She said quietly, breaking the silence.

"Did you just apologize?" He smiled at her direction.

"No."

He chuckled, knowing her nature is full of pride, and his also.

"Yen, I can't just hang up my swords for good." His tone took a serious turn.

"And why not?"

"Because I tried before."

The sun had set and the stars illuminated the dark night.

"In Rivia," she whispered, intruding his mind to read his thoughts.

Geralt nodded, "The moment I declared I would hang up my swords, the riot happened and then…well, you know the rest." He fell silent for a moment. "It is destiny's sick and twisted game of keeping me on The Path."

"You don't know that."

"I do," he said, quietly. Before he met Ciri, Geralt challenged the idea of destiny. Vesemir had told him that he himself is a child of destiny. He refused to believe it. Geralt always believed that individuals write their own stories, create their own paths. While that still may be somewhat true, as a child, he refused to believe that it has been written for his mother to give up raising him so he could be a Witcher, a potential death sentence. But since he met Ciri, he had begun to strongly believe in the force of destiny and that his and Ciri's were bound together.

Yennefer gently kicked him, to take him out of his pensive trance, a silent admission that she again had intruded his thoughts. She sat up then laced her fingers through his.

"I forgive you," she said in a playful tone.
"I wasn't even apologizing. You were."

"No, I never have to apologize for anything."

"Right, so nothing in the past was ever your fault." He followed along with the light mood.

"Of course not. I am not the one who suddenly left with only a poorly written note and a few flowers."

"Yen…"

It was nice to hear her laugh, it made Geralt smile alongside her. "They were even terrible flowers, Geralt. I wouldn't have been as angry with you if you only took the time to get me some proper damn flowers."

He shook his head, thinking what she said was absurd. He truly thought they were nice.

"Well, if you think so, you have a poor taste of flowers." She joked as she rested her head on his shoulder, their fingers still intertwined. In truth, they were just shy of decent.

"How long ago was that?"

"A long time."

They sat in silence, content and relieved. Relieved that all has come to a rest; content with each other's company. After what felt like an eternity, they were both at peace.

"Are you hungry?" Geralt asked, breaking the silence.

Yennefer lifted her head, "I am famished."

"Well, I have a cook, Marlene. Her food is delicious."

"Her?" Yennefer smiled mischievously.

Geralt rolled his eyes at her assumption. "Yen, she's as old as we are. I lifted a curse from her and she felt compelled to repay me by cooking and keeping the house clean. I told her she didn't have to, but she insisted."

"I never knew you'd discriminate."

Geralt shook his head as he led her to the house, where they sat and ate a meal as though it was cooked for a god, while Geralt shared the tale of Gaunter O'Dimm and The Beast of Beauclair.

Author's Notes

I hope you enjoyed this extended ending! If you catch any constructive criticism, or praise ;) please don't hesitate to share! So for the part about Geralt settling down, that is just my personal headcannon. Geralt is only 100 something years old, it doesn't seem right that he settles down forever, though maybe he might settle for a few years. I was wondering if I should make these a series and more moments as different chapters or if I should just publish each separate. Tell me your preference, and if you liked this, stay tuned for there is more to come!