Not all that happy with this one for I felt there were too many time skips and I broke character a bit near the end but decided to finish as the third chapter is almost done!/p
Thank you for the feedback and favorites/follows! It made me rather happy to see that not just the one person I'm actively sharing this fanfiction with is reading as well as enjoying it. Speaking of which, I tried to cut down on paragraph length.. tried, oh well let's just see if this works.
Geralt's confusion was more than obvious as she explained that she would follow him up soon after she cleaned up. Reluctantly, the witcher would nod and slowly leave, curious as to what Yennefer was up to. It hadn't been the first time she conducted some sort of research behind his back, and he doubted it would be the last.
Once he finally reached the front door and entered, he couldn't resist knowing what she was up to considering it looked to be rather taxing. Scanning the room and quickly locating the journal she had been writing in, he made his way over to the side of the table and examined the cover. His medallion didn't hum which meant the spell she had placed upon her work was no longer in effect.
Cautiously reaching forward, Geralt had been about to grab the book when the door creaked, causing him to immediately stop what he was doing and appear to be examining one of his swords that lay on the polished rack just above it. Yennefer entered and allowed the door she had just opened to close behind her, passing the enchantress a glance, he noticed she had a much more.. for lack of a better word, upbeat, air about her than usual. A small smile that was complimented by a faint, warm glow within her violet eyes as opposed to the normally cool demeanor she had. Odd but definitely not unwelcome. "Did whatever you're working on turn out alright?" "I guess you could say that…" She replied in a vaguely simple tone, clearly not inclined to answer anything about what had occurred before.
His lover would then walk past him, towards where the kitchen was whilst calling back. Asking if he had eaten anything for breakfast yet. Replying no, because he hasn't, Geralt's confusion only continued to strengthen. Marlene had taken a day to go into the city and replenish her supply of herbs as the garden had not yet been made ready, but cooking regardless wasn't her forte.
About a half an hour later, she seemed to prove him wrong… sorta. The eggs were cooked moderately well although the meat (which he couldn't figure out the kind) was either scorched or raw. Not bothering to say anything to risk spoiling her good mood, they ate in silence, although Geralt couldn't help but notice that Yennefer's eyes kept drifting to the glass of wine she had poured him. Unclear as to why she was acting as such, he paused in his eating to reach for the glass, allowing himself to take a semi-discrete sniff. But Yen still managed to notice. "It was one of our first barrels, I just happened to find a bottle in the kitchen." Nodding somewhat, the witcher brought the glass to his lips and took a moderately large sip. The taste was of wine, but mixed with what could be compared to water from a basin that had been left unemptied for a bit to long. A clear grimace passing over his face, he set the glass down. "Are you sure you didn't misread the label?" The sorceress shook her head, moving for her own glass and taking a small mouthful. Seeming unfazed by the taste, Geralt gave a sigh, not bothering to continue dealing with the matter.
After they finished, Yennefer was quick to offer to collect the dishes and take them back into the kitchen. He had drunk a good portion of the glass without needing to be coaxed the rest remaining untouched. Hoping it was enough to achieve the result she wanted, the sorceress began to clean the plates they had used, quickly losing herself within her thoughts about a possible future.
The rest of that day, Geralt had been feeling awful. Uncertain if it was the food or the wine he had drank, the witcher remained home instead of going out looking for monsters and or gwent decks to slay. But as he tried to keep himself entertained via maintaining his swords and armor, he couldn't help but notice that his love wasn't as focused as she normally was. When she had joined him outside with book in hand, he would notice her having to re-read the page she was one three or four times before moving forward, apparently not taking in the information upon its pages. It was unlike Yennefer, very much so and he couldn't figure out what is was that she was bothering her. Returning his steel sword to its sheath and leaning forward for his silver one, he
It was unlike Yennefer, very much so and he couldn't figure out what is was that she was bothering her. Returning his steel sword to its sheath and leaning forward for his silver one, he past her a mixed glance, not sure if he should be curious or worried. "What's bothering you?" He decided on saying, eyeing her carefully. The woman looked up from the book she was reading, appearing confused although he was unable to tell how genuine it truly was. "I'm fine. The only thing troubling me is how I'm managing through his horrid novel." Part of himself wanted to press further, but the other knew that she wasn't going to be letting up any information any time soon. And so he continued with his work upon his sword, despite the blade being rather sharp "as-is" due to its lack of use.
One week later, Geralt was almost certain that something was wrong. Almost every advance he made, she ignored whether it was to try and pry into what was wrong to those more suggestive when they retired for the night. Her behavior had gone from odd, past unusual, to unnatural in the matter of a few days which was seldom comforting. He hadn't been able to shake the unease that had formed in the pit of his stomach for quite some time now, and he knew if answers weren't gotten soon, it was only going to fester akin to a wound left untreated. And so when the day grew late enough, he had located the enchantress but before he could speak, the woman already had a rather mischievous smile upon her lips while turning and making her way to their bedroom.
Hours after the two had calmed down after their excursion, Geralt felt somewhat relieved that Yennefer had loosened up somewhat. But before he could continue to release the worry he had built up, Yen shifted against him, her head resting against his as her lips nearly touched his ear. Faintly whispering two words that only made himself to become uncertain once more. "Thank you."
The day following was nothing but a relapse into her strange behavior once more, only amplified by the fact that she wasn't drinking the ungodly amounts of wine she normally consumed throughout the day. Not a single glass. Yennefer knew Geralt wasn't only oblivious but beginning to grow worried, which was something she assumed would've occurred considering this was the last thing he would expect for very obvious reasons. She wasn't going to say anything, not yet. Not until she was certain. When that will be… she wasn't sure. Telling the witcher soon was as a possibility, but then there was the chance of failure. Not saying anything for the duration of the pregnancy, which would be difficult and involve more than a few Illusions and lie which was also an option albeit not the best. Undecided, the sorceress decided to wait and play it by ear to see what would be best.
It had been a week and a half since the whole charade began and a few days since Yennefer was positive she was with child. A courier had arrived at their door around mid afternoon, Geralt interrupted in what he had turned into his daily routine to try and future out what was supposedly wrong with her (which either consisted of him staring at her for rather long amounts of time to asking nonchalant but obvious questions or remarks) had went and retrieved the letter that was addressed to both of them. Shutting the door, the witcher undid the wax seal and read it over before sighed. "Anna Henrietta is hosting some event and she wants us to come…" He grumbled. Amusement sparking within her eyes, she responded in a tone that complemented such a look. "Oh Geralt, don't complain. As much as you dislike formal settings and attire, we both know that we're going to attend. When is it being held?" Scanning the piece of parchment once more, his look of disdain deepened. "Tonight." Standing from where she sat, the woman nodded. "Then go bathe, I can smell you from here."
Geralt was more than unhappy by the news of this event. Very much so. Doublets and stiff trousers were going to fill his night, which just made the whole ordeal worse. He took his time whilst getting ready, trying to delay the clothing that was awaiting him as long as possible. But after Yennefer had prepared herself, she was quickly coaxing the witcher to hurry considering the amount of time he was taking. Even to the point where she began to try and forcibly dress him. After they finally had finished preparing and were about to leave, the enchantress would frown and make a statement that only continued to sour his mood. "We don't have time to saddle the horses… we'll have to take a portal." Geralt groaned but couldn't speak as he was cut off with a sharp glare. "Unless you would like to be the last to arrive." Not bothering to respond, she waved a hand and conjured a portal that would take them to the front of Beauclair Palace.
Stepping out with the witcher grumbling something about hating portals, Yennefer intertwined her arm with his and tugged him rather forcefully towards the entrance where others were trickling in. "Geralt." She whispered, the man passing her a glance as she continued. "Try not to fool around. The last thing I need to learn that you fucked someone within the duchess' court." "Don't have any faith in me?" He asked but wasn't able to hear what Yen would've said as she put a seemingly genuine smile upon her face that was anything but to him. Initially they were greeted warmly by a pair of knights that stood by the doors with pikes in hand, standing guard at the entrance to the ballroom. It was extremely unlikely that something should occur, but after recovering from the vampiric massacre they couldn't be too careful.
The grand hall was bursting with life seeing as they were one of the last few to arrive. Not spotting anyone they knew yet, aside from the duchess herself that was greeting guests with a slightly unhappy and more than uncomfortable sister in tow, Geralt was all too eager to see if there was any alcohol or at the very least food to be found. Noticing his eyes wandering, Yennefer still tugged him along, knowing it was only polite to make their way towards the host.
But it wasn't going to be that simple. Avoiding simple conversation from those they weren't familiar would've been simple if they weren't Geralt of Riva and Yennefer of Vengerberg, a pair quite noticeable amidst the crowd. Many wanted to thank the witcher for slaying the beast of Beauclair while others tried to make small talk with the sorceress, interested in quite possibly political manners that she had no worry or say in anymore. The two thought it was going to be the same few phrases with each new person they came across, yet the next someone who approached them stood out from the rest. It was a young woman whom she nor Geralt didn't recognize, approaching rather suddenly. She wore a simple albeit elaborate dress in a mix of various red hues with soft, small features and moderately dark hair that was pulled back rather neatly. "Master Geralt, Madam Yennefer…" The mystery woman greeted them with a slight nod of her head, her voice betraying that she wasn't from Toussaint. "I had heard you two were going to be here… when you hadn't arrived early, I feared you didn't get the message." Passing her lover a glance, Yen couldn't resist commenting. "If Geralt would've just put his doublet on instead of complaining, we would've arrived much sooner." The woman chuckled while the man in question sighed, yet moved past the remark. "And you are?" "Oh! Forgive me… Elvira Veesaert-" she introduced herself while bowing her head once more. "I was offered a position by the duchess after the most recent incident and I couldn't possibly refuse." This caused Yennefer to grow curious. "A position doing what exactly?" Elvira gave a warm yet almost mocking smile. "She found it quite convenient to have an sorceress within her court."
It was a young woman whom she nor Geralt didn't recognize, approaching rather suddenly. She wore a simple albeit elaborate dress in a mix of various red hues with soft, small features and moderately dark hair that was pulled back rather neatly. "Master Geralt, Madam Yennefer…" The mystery woman greeted them with a slight nod of her head, her voice betraying that she wasn't from Toussaint. "I had heard you two were going to be here… when you hadn't arrived early, I feared you didn't get the message." Passing her lover a glance, Yen couldn't resist commenting. "If Geralt would've just put his doublet on instead of complaining, we would've arrived much sooner." The woman chuckled while the man in question sighed, yet moved past the remark. "And you are?" "Oh! Forgive me… Elvira Veesaert-" she introduced herself while bowing her head once more. "I was offered a position by the duchess after the most recent incident and I couldn't possibly refuse." This caused Yennefer to grow curious. "A position doing what exactly?" Elvira gave a warm yet almost mocking smile. "She found it quite convenient to have an sorceress within her court."
Although she kept a composed expression, she would metaphorically frown quite deeply. As far she was aware, the lodge was still in shambles, there wasn't an active school, and this woman was awfully young. When it comes to mages, sorceresses especially, its more than difficult to guess one's age. However, based upon how she wasn't familiar with her name or face on even a remote level, she had to be much younger than herself. "And I believe you already know who we are-" she would say, trying to keep a humorous air about her voice when she was abruptly cut off. "Oh yes! I've read up upon you two quite intently." Geralt would shift beside her as Yennefer's gaze began to be tinged with faint hints of annoyance. "As I was about to ask, how long have you been studying for?" There was a slight pause before an answer was given. "A decade or two." "Mmm… I would thought that someone such as Anna Henrietta herself would want someone more talented than a novice." This comment caused the witcher to send her a glare with the younger mage seeming to gain a hard edge. "I can assure you, Madam Yennefer, that I am notably much more skilled than a novice."
No more words were exchanged as she then moved past them, leaving to speak to others. "Was that really necessary?" Geralt took his turn in scolding Yen which she replied in a hushed tone "Yes, now come. No more delaying."
They soon reached the duchess and had yet another brief conversation considering she was being pulled in almost three different directions at once. Allowing her to tend to what she ended, the two would then split up. The witcher hunting down some sort of food and drink with Yennefer in search of information upon Elvira. Time past, and she gathered a pathetic amount considering no one was all that sure about her entirely. Nothing but a handful of rumors and gossip that was hardly worth paying attention to. Yet once she tried scanning the crowd for Geralt, she was somewhat to see that he was nowhere to be found, at least within the ballroom. Asking a few acquaintances if they had seen him, most would reply that last they'd seen him, he had been conversing with a small group of women before disappearing down a corridor with one of them. Clearly knowing why, and how it wasn't a good thing in the slightest, she picked up the pace. Her footsteps ringing out as the din of the party faded into the background.
A few guards that attempted to stop her were pushed past, ignoring their presence as she mentally searched each of the rooms she past. Most either held drunk and or unconscious occupants or were empty, which kept making the enchantress' mood worsen. Yet give or take a few moments later, she was sure she had found the correct one. Stepping up to the door, Yen took hold of the handle, gave it a solid twist, and threw it open. Looking to each of the faces present, relief flooded through her, it being somewhat visible within her expression. It was Geralt and that damned wench that spoke to them early. And no, she didn't care about what strange thing they were doing with the headboard or even that she was bound in dimeritium handcuffs. Just that it was a sorceress.
Being able to focus on the situation at hand now that she was done worrying about a potentially awful situation, Elvira gave her a cheeky, mocking, triumphant grin while Geralt cursed and began to try and worm his way out of the woman's embrace.
They were silent as the two exited the room, the door shutting as Yennefer would give him a disapproving glare, not speaking as she conjured another portal, the two stepping inside.
Once they returned back to Corvo Bianco, Yennefer faced him and wouldn't hesitate in hissing "You're lucky." Geralt, obviously done with the guessing game that had ensued for the last few days, narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean? You've been nothing but cryptic these last few days." Frowning herself she continued with a sharp retort. "Don't you think I'm aware of that? By the gods, I don't need to spend every moment explaining my actions to you." At this point, Geralt would look as if he wanted to speak, but said nothing. His face covered with look of not only guilt, but annoyance, concern, and a whole host of other things. Due to his silence, Yen took this as an opportunity to rid the many things from her mind that had been built up over the last few days.
The rant lasted for a few minutes at best until she was left silently fuming. An icy glare set upon the witcher as he was apparently forming a response of two words. "What's wrong?" Withdrawal from not only alcohol but sex was apparently getting to her, for the next words that left her mouth were almost an emotion bloated yell. "I'm pregnant!" Geralt's immediate reaction was to narrow his eyes even further. "That's impossible." The man huffed. "We both know that you're infertile and witchers are sterile." Giving her head a brief shake, black curls shimmering in the faint light cast by the few candles most likely lit by the majordomo, Yen replied in a much softer tone albeit it still had an edge. "No completely. With the hide of a golden dragon it was possible to make a substance to reverse the effect and return my fertility." "How would you get the hide?" The enchantress sighed. "I have to explain everything, don't I? The heart you found was filled with enough magical energy that I was able to remove a small portion and transmute it into the substance I required." Connecting the dots, Geralt continued. "And so… that's why I found you in the cellar." "Yes." Her tone was filled with clear annoyance. "I had to work all night with that damned thing." But,the witcher still didn't understand. "Who's the father?" By now, the annoyance was less general and more directed towards him. "Do you really thing I would go through all that trouble to restore my own fertility without that in mind? Who would logically be the person I would vague consider having a child with?"
As this was said, Geralt fell silent for a considerable amount of time. His eyes not leaving his lover. It was something he didn't and couldn't expected, and he wasn't honestly all that sure how to react. He knew that he should be overjoyed, not only for Yen's sake (as she had been trying to make it possible for herself to conceive for as long a she had known her) but also that he was going to achieve something that was impossible for other witchers, that being having a child that was related to him by blood. But part of I'm was also rather skeptical seeing as she had meddled with himself with permission (which wasn't entirely unlike her.) Finally, he felt as if he should be somewhat concerned. Not only did the heart contain magic of an unknown origin, but he was a fully mutated witcher and she was a sorceress. What effect, if any, would it have on the child?
Giving his head a brief shake, the witcher was conflicted. And because he was, the man saw no other option than to turn slowly on his heel and walk for the door. There was a tavern not far, and he needed something stronger than wine.
As Geralt turned and went for the door, promptly leaving without a word, Yennefer's anger, frustration, and annoyance suddenly left her and was replaced by an uncertain helplessness of sorts that she cursed at herself for feeling. She hadn't known what his reaction was going to be, especially considering the idea was very much impossible, or had been. Lowering herself into a chair that sat alongside the elaborate table, she rested her elbows upon its surface while caressing her head in her hands. Not all that certain of a situation anymore that she believed she had been in control of.
