The huge table in the grand hall was decorated with an array of blazing candles that brought a cheerful and joyful air to the castle of Kaer Morhen. Geralt walked around and lit the remaining sconces with a flick of igni, whilst Triss, Dandelion and Regis put the finishing touches to the great feast in the kitchen.
Outside, the cold wintry wind howled and rattled the windows, whilst inside the fireplace roared and snapped as Lambert tossed a fresh log onto the flames. Yennefer set the last pair of silverware onto the table, arranged the floral centerpiece of gorgeous lilacs conjured by magic, and placed a crystal bowl filled with fresh gooseberries next to it.
"I'm not sitting by him and that's that." Grumbled Vernon Roche as Iorveth eyed him from the opposite side of the table, the elf finishing a glass of fine wine and giving him a one fingered wave.
"Get over it, Vern. It's just one night." Said Ves, handing her Commander another frothy mug of dwarven ale.
"Yeah, dhoine', be thankful I don't use you for target practice." Iorveth said with a sneer.
"Anyone raises a blade or bow in my hall on this night will answer to me." Spoke Papa Vesemir as the old witcher entered the room, which fell silent. "That's enough of that. Bicker later in the courtyard and take it out with a sparring match. We feast!"
Emiel Regis entered the hall, carrying a massive tray set with the biggest bird anyone in Kaedwen or Temeria had ever seen, surrounded by heaps of roasted vegetables and baked apples drenched in ribbons of butter and dripping with cinnamon and sugar. The ancient vampire placed it at the heart of the table and Vesemir stood and raised his glass as all stood and gathered around.
"Friends, tonight we come together from many nations and lands to give thanks. In some places, this day of thanksgiving is honored on a different day. And in others, it is an unknown tradition. But for us here, we gather in feast with our friends, new and old. And our loved ones." He began.
Geralt, Yen and Ciri stood together with the young, ashen haired witcher leaning on her mother's arm while holding her father's hand. Triss twirled a piece of her fiery hair, and Eskel casually put his arm around her waist. And Emiel Regis hugged the resident werewolf and kissed the top of her head as she leaned on his chest.
Papa Vesemir continued. "While we recognize the imperfection of our world, past and present," he said, looking between Iorveth and Roche. "we also work, each of us in our own way, to bring about what is best for all our peoples. So whether we be witchers, sorcerers, soldiers or…"
"Or vampires, Papa." The resident werewolf whispered. "And herbalists too. Oh and werewolves and elves, and dwarves, and gnomes…"
"Hush, my dear. We understand." Regis said, silencing her sweetly with a finger to her lips.
Vesemir cleared his throat and did his old man best to look cross and annoyed. But he couldn't help but smile seeing the werewolf turn pink and shyly tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
"No matter who or what we are, today, we all have a place at this table. May it be for all tomorrows. A happy thanksgiving to you all." Vesemir said and toasted their health.
And a very happy thanksgiving to all my Lair friends who celebrate this day! May it be merry and bright, filled with all the things you love and that bring you joy.