Ship: TRISS/LAMBERT (Witcher III: The Wild Hunt)

Author's Note: TRISS/LAMBERT. Lambert can be such a jerk, especially towards Triss. I have a feeling he's jealous of Geralt and that he actually really likes Triss. This is my take on the possibility that something happened between Triss and Lambert before they meet again during the Wild Hunt. I highly recommend listening to "Somewhere" by Anneke Van Giersbergen (look it up on Youtube). It was the fuel to this ficlet. Not sure yet if this will be standalone or not... Please read and review and let me know what you think. – G.G.

Published: 21 July 2015

Somewhere

by G.G. Halcyon

"Lambert."

"Merrigold." He greeted her curtly and turned his attention back to the scene in front of him. He came up here alone, to reflect on his life and prepare himself mentally for the battle. He thought no one would think of venturing to this part of Kaer Morhen. Vesemer had made it clear that the left tower was still in need of repair after its stairs had eroded from years of wear and elements. He didn't expect anyone to venture up here against Vesemer's warning, and was surprised that of the massiveness of Kaer Morhen, the redheaded mage had chosen this one.

"Why are you up here?" He asked her.

She came close to him and settled beside him, resting her hands against the old worn out ledge of rocks. He felt her eyes studying him, but he made it a point not to meet them. He really didn't want her to be so close to her right now, and be alone together. Being near her only brought back feelings he had worked so hard to suppress, and he didn't want to think about the past and what could have been.

"I didn't think anyone would be up here," she said to him. "I wanted to get away from everyone…and think about all that has happened. I thought you would head Vesemer's warnings like the others."

"You'd rather be up here than spending your possible last days with Geralt?" The words came out more bitingly than he expected. He could see her flinch beside him, before averting her gaze away from him. They were both aware of exactly what he meant.

"There's nothing going on between Geralt and I," she said to him, doing her best not to show any emotion or to sound as if it had bothered her. She met his gaze; caught the surprise in his face before he surpressed it with his usual stoic expression.

"I thought you'd know that," she said, returning her sight to the mountains before them and the orange and red sky. She had a faraway expression on her face, her pink lips in a thin line, and her brows furrowed. "He's probably with Yennefer," she said quietly, more of a self-proclamation about the reality that had blatantly struck her the moment she arrived at Kaer Morhen that day.

"And you're not bothered by that?" He asked, his eyes studying her profile. The glow of the setting sun reflected against her blazing red hair, which she surprisingly had worn in long loose waves, cascading past her shoulders.

"Why should I be? Geralt and I…he never really loved me, it's been over for several months. He always belonged to her," Triss said, her voice sounding unaffected.

"Is that what you tell yourself? How you explain what happened between us?"

He looked at her and met her gaze. He needed to talk about this; he needed to find his closure. If he was to die soon he wanted to do so with a clear conscience and with the answers to the questions that had long been bugging him all these months.

Triss couldn't help but look into Lambert's intense gaze. His brows furrowed in thought, his lips in a thin line. He wanted to talk to her about their past, she could tell, and she also knew that doing so was always something that he found very hard to do. This was an uncomfortable territory for both of them, and yet she thought that since they were now together, it was time they laid it all out on the table.

"Lambert…" she took a deep breath, "what happened between us that night…"

"Don't say you're sorry about it. I'm not," he told her, turning to her fully. He stood inches taller than her, and they were very close. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glistening, and he could tell she was trying to formulate the right words to say. She didn't have to.

"Listen," he told her, "that night, I wanted to spend it with you. Hell! I planned it. I wanted what Geralt had—the redheaded mage who cared more about taking care of others than her own self, and so forgiving when it came to the people she loved."

"Lambert…" She whispered

" I was angry, jealous even, that after all that he had done to you, and even after all those women he slept with, you were willing to forgive him and take him back. So that night when like a fool, he went off again to leave you, and I knew damn well where he was heading, I decided to see you. I knew you'd be upset and that you needed the company."

He shook his head and let out a huff. "See, that's the kind of man I am. I took advantage of you in your weak time."

Triss closed the gap between them and placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder. She could feel his release his tenseness and unfold his hands which he had balled into a fist besides him. She knew Lambert for many years, and was surprise that all this time he had blamed himself for what they shared.

"It wasn't your fault, Lambert," she told him, "Yes, I was upset that night, but I wanted what transpired. You took care of me, kept me company, and made me feel like a woman who deserved more…better… and just as we shared our bed, you left me so abruptly, and so coldly."

The memory of her alone in her room and welcoming Lambert in when he saw her crying flashed in her mind. She remembered his kind words, consoling her, telling her she deserved better. She also remembered the gentle caress and touches they shared. She remembered watching him leave her moments after their time together with no explanation, but a guilty expression on his face. They were memories she had tried not to resurface every time she would encounter Lambert, and he'd act as if she was the last person he'd want to see.

"What could have happened if I stayed in your bed that night? We'd talk? You'd realize that maybe I could be a better choice?" He laughed out loud, a crass laugh, before turning away to face the scene before them. Triss' s hands fell to her side, and he caught a glimpse of the disappointment there. "You would have left Geralt?"

"I don't know what could have happened; you didn't give me a chance to speak to you…"

"And like a great friend to Geralt, I ended up looking at him in the eyes and keeping a lie once I realize you never did confess to him your infidelity. "

She forced him to turn to her, her eyes burning with anger at his remark. "Maybe I realized that I did not give a damn about Geralt and his infidelity! Maybe that night I decided that I did in fact deserved better!" She pointed at him, "You don't even know half of what happened days after you left! I ended it with Geralt because I realized that I could never, ever, live up to being her. I never had his heart, ever, no matter what!"

"Merrigold…"

"Triss!" She snapped at him before letting him go and turning around to head down the stairs to leave. Why did she think this was going to be any different? Why did she even believe that maybe that Gods had somehow made it so that they'd meet that night to talk, to find closure, maybe be friends once more or be in good terms like they were so many years ago? She felt like a fool.

As she made her way down the stairs, she was stopped by a gentle brush to her shoulder. He had stopped her. Triss didn't turn around, but remained standing in place, her head held high as she bit away her tears. She stood resolute that he wouldn't see her crumble.

"Why did I think that this would be any different? That you'd …" Triss shook her head, "It doesn't matter. I'll see you around, Lambert." She said and made a move to continue down the stairs.

"Triss," he called out to here, "Please stay."

Lambert didn't want what could be their last night together end so horribly. He knew he wasn't the easiest of men to deal with, and he was horrible when came to expressing anything of feelings of sentiment. He was always a man of few words. An unpleasantness tugged in his chest as Triss had planned to bare farewell, without even looking at him and with her back turned to him.

Triss didn't make a move, but remained still where she was. He wondered what was going through her mind, and how he could somehow fix whatever it was between them.

Lambert couldn't take it any longer and took three long strides to her form. With gentle hands he touched her back and turned her over to face him. She looked up at his towering form. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears she was determined to hold back. Triss was a woman who made it a point to show her strength, and hide her weakness, especially if it was her hurt emotion that she wanted to hide. Yet, he knew Triss very well, and knew that her eyes often showed her emotions, and he saw in them the pain he'd caused her.

"Triss…" her first name through his lips reminded him so much of the night they shared. The memories of their bodies entwined and softness of her skin came crashing back. They broke through the barrier of his stubborn and prideful heart, and his face softened as he allowed himself to fully accept that he, Lambert, had in fact still liked Triss, more so than he thought he did.

"What is it, Lambert?" She said, almost a hush in their surroundings, as the winds blew and caressed the trees around them. She was searching his face for an answer, and he forced himself to accept that he was out of his element and that yes, he wanted Triss more than ever.

"Forgive me…" he said to her, his voice hushed. He took a deep breath trying his best to compose himself. He needed to tell her how he felt, before it was too late. He couldn't imagine dying or watching something happen to her and leave so many things unsaid between them.

She shook her head, "What for? For treating me so bitterly these past several months, as if even the sight of me makes your skin crawl?" She pointed at him, her voice low, but stinging and laden with her hurt. "You can't even call me by my first name!"

He took hold of her raised hand and enveloped it in his own. She looked up at him surprised by the gesture. He pulled her close to him, until they were only inches away from each other, their hands between them. Her anger faded until she looked at him questioningly, not certain what was to happen.

"I was upset with you, because you chose him so easily…instead of me." His words were flat and to the point. "I had to leave you that night because I knew if I stayed with you it'd only hurt more. I knew you weren't going to leave him, and it ached me when I saw that you were still together."

There he had said it.

He released her hand, waiting for her response, and watched as they fell to her side.

Triss's eyes softened.

"Lambert, I learned of my mistake shortly after. I ended it with Geralt when I knew of his connection with Yennefer…"

"That is a news I only found out today when I witnessed Yennefer so unashamedly kiss Geralt in front of everyone," he confessed to her. "I was surprised when I saw no shock in your expression, or no bitterness." It was the truth. He had thought that Geralt and Triss was still an item until that incident. He had for many months made it a point to stay out of the gossip mill and did not hear about the going ons with the older Witcher's love life. Lambert had watched as Triss had simply looked on at their public display, and then turned her attention to Ceri, seeming to be unaffected.

"I've moved on from that. Yennefer is like a sister to me and…I'm glad they're reunited," Triss told him, although they both knew that was only half truth. He was certain Triss was still hurting from the fact that Yennefer was now with Geralt, and that neither of them seemed to mind flaunting that fact in her and everyone else's faces.

Lambert averted his gaze away from her, feeling more like a fool as he remembered how rudely he greeted Triss when she arrived at Kaer Morhen before Geralt and Yennefer. He could just imagine the turmoil and sadness she felt, not only being forced to watch a sister-figure and her ex-lover together, but also be treated so harshly by someone whom she had long thought was her friend, or at least a cordial acquaintance.

Lambert knew that he was always an emotional man deep down, and that when he felt hurt or when he liked someone he always tended to brush it off by treating them like the complete opposite. All his life he had always strived to maintain a cold exterior, one that was devoid of the emotion and frill Geralt seemed to relish in. He had learned from a very young age, especially during the Witcher Trials, how emotions such as love could get in the way. He vowed never to let his emotions get the best of him, but he knew that deep within his Witcher heart was still his human nature and the emotional need that ached to have a companion who could understand, accept him and love him. Unlike Geralt, who seemed to accept this human need of an emotional connection and relished in it in the women he had relations with, Lambert tormented himself by withholding such pleasures because he didn't want to feel the void that he once felt loosing someone so close. Unlike he colleague, he was also still bitter about his being a Witcher, still seeing it as something he had no choice in, while Geralt reveled at his fate.

Triss could see that he was beginning to withdraw again from her as she could tell that he was going back deep in thought. As if in their own accord, she touched his chest, tentative, her hand light against the flat hardness of his muscle beneath his shirt. It was her way of telling him to 'come back' to her. It got his attention, and his hazel eyes meets hers and there's so much there.

As they looked into each other's eyes there were so many things they wanted to say to each other, so many secrets and confessions that they kept from one another. Lambert wanted her to know how much he pined for her, how much he was glad that she was no longer with Geralt. She wanted to tell him that she wanted so badly to reach out to him so many months ago, and to get closer to him. None of those words came, but they knew and they felt it between them the feeling they shared.

Lambert closed the gap between them, and she was so close that he could feel their breath mingle. He took in her beauty and her presence, wanting so badly to pull her close against him, and just be. His arm snaked behind her and he gently pulled her body against him.

He brushed all the voices in his head that warned him against 'getting too close' and 'showing emotion'. He wanted so much to just relish in whatever it was he could have with Triss. He was tired of the façade and he needed to let her know how he felt because their future was clearly unknown, and it was uncertain if they would even live to see their last.

So much he wanted to tell her, and he opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him with a smiled, and a gentle finger against his lips. "Shh…" She knew that he wanted what she wanted. She knew that their hearts wanted them to rid of whatever awkwardness, bitterness or hurt that had come between them. She knew that they needed this closure, this 'clearing of the air' in order to move on with their lives, or whatever was left of it.

Triss pulled back and touched his cheek with a fingertip. She slowly traced the satin line of his scar, and felt the slight roughness where he had not shaved. It was exactly how she remembered touching his face that night so long ago, when he looked at her in concern and she simply just wanted to forget. But this time, it was different circumstances. She didn't want him as a temporary relief from heartache, but instead she wanted him because her heart told her how much she needed him. She wanted something special with this Witcher, who in his own way had saved her life so long ago, protected her, and had cared for her wellbeing.

Triss was so surprise that it took her so long to see behind Lambert's mean façade. He was a man of strong emotions, a man who have in his pass watched those he loved ripped away from him, a man who believed that he had no choice in his life but to be a Witcher, when in reality he wanted nothing more than to be 'normal' and to live a 'normal' life. He also was a man who cared deeply, who tormented himself to the point that he denied himself happiness. She wanted him to realize that he deserved to be happy, and that she wanted to give him that happiness, because she was tired of seeing the two of them in a state of sadness and pity.

She tiptoed and placed a kiss on his scarred cheek, and then a gentle kiss on his lips. His lips were warm against her own and her heart rejoiced as she felt him return her kiss. Hands on her waist, he pulled her against him and ran gentle circles over her hipbone, as he leaned closer and deepened their kiss.

They needed this.

They kissed passionately, slow, deep, and sensual as their tongues intertwined. Memories crashed through them, and their hearts spilled with the emotions that they had long held for each other, and denied themselves the realization until now. And when their lips were red, and bruised, they stopped and simply held each other. Triss's head nestled against his chest and Lambert's cheek rested atop her red hair. He breathed in her scent—the smell of lilacs and berries—the sweetness of her very essence, and a warmth that enveloped him and pushed past the cold barrier he had so long placed.

After a moment she looked up at him, her green eyes taking in the sight of him, and a smile gracing her lips just like his own.

She was about to pull away, to make room between them, so that they could come to terms with what transpired. She was about to say something, but Lambert took her lips in his once more.

Damn him if he was going to let Triss go so easily without letting her know—showing her- how much she meant to him. He was horrible with words, and she knew that, and he wanted to make sure she knew how he felt.

"Lambert," she whispered when they parted once more, her lips plump and her cheeks flushed. The cooling wind brushed against her red hair, which cascaded around her, framing her delicate face. She was beautiful; so utterly beautiful…

Her hands rested against his chest, above his strong beating heart.

"Triss, stay with me tonight," he whispered to her, and it's a question, almost pleading and begging that somehow she understood. He wanted her to know that he wanted her, and only her. He wanted her to know that if he was to die, he wanted to die knowing that she knew how much she meant to him. Whatever the outcome, so be it to hell, he needed to feel her against him, hear her scream his name—his name, not Geralt's- as she writhe in passion, and love him. He needed her to know that he was a better choice, a Witcher who was so ready to be hers and only hers.

She smiled at him, a beautiful smile, a welcoming smile, so full of understanding and want and need, and a deep reflection of his very own.

She took his hands in hers as she opened a portal behind them.

"Follow me," she said to him as she let him go and headed towards the portal, waiting for him.

It is an invitation he had so long awaited to hear. He knew and she knew as well that this moment forward it was to be different. That no matter what was to happen in the following day and the following battle, if they were to live, if they were to survive, it was to be with their hearts open to one another.

He smiled at her warmly and took her hand in his.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! What do you think? I'm not done with these two just yet… I might end up writing two more scenes to this, but I can't promise when. We'll see... Hmm… plot bunnies! – G.G.