Hello! Sorry about that, I promised I would have the next chapter up soon ... and now for the excuse, life! XD I'm sorry haha I really am sorry, but here is chapter 3.
I hope everyone will enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much to Davs, Dishon, TheOdaFan amd verakormoutova for the support! I hope yous all like this chapter!
Also, please don't hesitate to leave a review or pm expressing any thoughts or feedback of my story so far! I would love that, it means so much to see stuff like that! Have an amazing morning/day/night!
"People," Geralt turned his head, "like to invent monsters and monstrosities. Then they seem less monstrous themselves. When they get blind-drunk, cheat, steal, beat their wives, starve an old woman, when they kill a trapped fox with an axe or riddle the last existing unicorn with arrows, they like to think that the Bane entering cottages at daybreak is more monstrous than they are. They feel better then. They find it easier to live."
― Andrzej Sapkowski, The Last Wish
DETTLAFF, AN ALP AND BLUE BELL
Not many wondered at this time of night, it might not even be considered night, but awfully early. The sky was a dim indigo, with only thousands of lights above to keep her vision from becoming impaired. Stars always faded gradually at this time, the moon would soon return to its long slumber, allowing the sun to awaken.
She rested, although not relaxed; against the wall of the supposed toy shop. She noted the building was in rather bad shape, much like the rest of the lower parts of Beauclair. She liked it, the history seeping through this part of the city, it didn't seem to bother the people living in this environment. The paling scent of herbs and foods from closed stalls, filled her nostrils, calming her greatly.
She watched under the shadow of a hood, as a woman with long hair dressed in a gown, ambled close by to her. Arousing many suspicions, not many women took lonely walks at this time. And she hung around a place where there was to be meeting between higher vampire and human. But … she had no time to quarrel over such suspicions, as a singular whisper reached her ear.
'And so, you obliged …' His articulation startled her from all thoughts, the bright red door, fit for Beauclair, creaked open with precision, asking her to enter the haunting toy shop. She obliged again … leaving her position against the wall, cautiously walking inside.
She turned fast, stumbling as the door creaked shut, as if she were in a horror, a scary story made for children filled with vampires, werewolves, ghosts and all things "evil". Although there was a vampire in this story, it wasn't evil … she hoped.
'Attic.' He spoke once again, directing her to where he was, she frowned, spinning back to the shelves replete with dust, and old toys, some broken and worn down. It intrigued her, strangely, and at that moment, as she strolled watchful of the intricate and small tools, beside damaged toys, she felt a surge of power embrace her. Remembrance, no … not remembrance, a future memory, a foretelling of the future. It scared her, but it left just as quickly as it came.
She couldn't help but chuckle softly, initiating the hood of her cloak to leave its place, allowing her blonde hair to fall from its bun, hovering above her shoulders as she fumbled with a lone rocking horse. She quickly realized that it was not in her favor to play with toys, and so ambled up the noisy stairs. This was not how Aubrey expected the day to go.
She paused at the sight of her … her face so familiar, like she had spoken with her just this morning. A woman's face, drawn beautifully on the flaking wall. She ignored all surroundings, stepping closer and closer to the sketch, so close she could touch the woman's face, with gentle fingers.
She gasped, almost shrieked.
The melody was soft, pretty, pleasant to the ears, but had a hidden grief within the creepily sung lullaby. The music box played with swift intervals of silence. She slowly rotated, facing him. He watched her with no expression, placing the music box upon the surface of the table behind him. The candles light, highlighting his features once more, he certainly was handsome, however, his true nature shone through clearly, or perhaps it was because she had met his kind before.
'I am here, now, please … tell me who our apparent mutual friend is.' She stated bluntly, however with politeness. He suddenly smiled, not maliciously but kindly, as if he was being friendly.
'Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy-' He began to talk before she interrupted within seconds.
'Regis, so it is who I thought … he's alive.' He nodded his head, understanding her sudden disruptiveness.
'Is he here with you?'
'No, he is not, in fact, we have not spoken for quite some time, in human terms at the least. I must say, I did not expect to be caught by a friend of his, but I am glad I did. I have heard much of you, you do not fear things that are not human.'
She smiled sadly to herself, at the memories of the time he was in Beauclair, in fact; memories of them all. Geralt and his hansa …
'I suppose that's true, I only fear what wants to kill me … I'm selfish like that.' She chuckled, and as he smirked at her response, his eyes glared, frightening her, but she would not contradict herself. In truth, she should have run, screamed, or walked out, giving him away. HE murdered those men, but she trusted Regis. If Regis knew and was friends with this man, there was something more to what was going on, but … he could be lying, he might have lied to her, this man might have trapped her …
'I speak the truth. I am the reason Regis lives, I found him as he was when you or whoever last saw him within Stygga castle. I regenerated him, nurtured him back to health and now we are connected deeply.' He spoke softly as if reading her mind. She noted how he spoke, not like Regis who could talk for hours on end of utterly complicated topics, but with short sentences and confidence. She smiled in response, clasping her hands together.
'I trust you …'
'Dettlaff, my name is Dettlaff.'
'Well, I trust you Dettlaff, and you can trust me. I can help even, if you explain why you did what you did.' She whispered, carefully stepping closer to Dettlaff, as he eyed her every move.
'You would not understand, you cannot help.' He answered, perhaps with guilt, Aubrey thought sadly to herself. He frowned at her, his eyes flickering behind her form. And that's when her heart stopped, they weren't alone. Before she could run, she felt his hand grab hers, holding her.
She stared with anger, her eyes fuming at his, the voice of a woman fading in. She spun her head to see the woman from outside … And she whimpered, tumbling into his arms.
'She will not hurt you … Stay calm.' He grasped her shoulder, keeping her from fidgeting out of his arms. She breathed erratically, as the woman with long auburn hair stood naked. With no expression, before strolling closer and closer to Aubrey.
Aubrey whimpered as the woman reached a hand out to her face, caressing her cheek. Dettlaff held her tightly, almost comforting her. The auburn-haired lady leaned in closer. Her eyes hypnotized Aubrey, her eyes that were extremely pale, her eyes that were burned in Aubrey's mind, as their lips touched. She closed her eyes, overloaded with strong emotions, the kiss became deeper, his grasp became tighter. Aubrey moaned into the woman's mouth, allowing her tongue to invade, and that is when she awoke.
It was dark, dimly lit. She felt the gentleness of cushioning beneath her head and the warmth of blanket. She was safe, numb limbs began to attain feeling …
The pressure of a hand in hers, startled her to sit up swiftly. And that is when it hit her. That is when she saw him. She sobbed in joy, throwing herself into his arms. He hushed her, as he awkwardly but none the less rubbed her back with warmth.
'You're late Geralt!' She sobbed with laughter into his neck, he gifted her one of his deep masculine chuckles. She felt at peace, remembering that same laugh from the younger days, releasing her from the hug, she took in every detail. He had aged and that was for sure, but he had aged nicely. Still the same white hair, and golden cat eyes. It was him. In beautifully crafted feline armor, she acclaimed in the silence of her mind.
'I am, and you … you were late as well.' Geralt smirked, his voice still gravelly as ever.
'Late? For what?' She asked in a daze, wiping at her eyes.
'A new murder victim,' He began speaking in his familiar way before his eyes softened, and back slouched ever so slightly, 'Milton de Peyrac-Peyran.' Geralt visibly dampened in mood, Aubrey joining him at the thought ….
He had killed again. She had just spoken to him … the killer, she could have done something. No, she couldn't have, it wasn't her fault.
'Do you know why you're here?' Geralt asked, leaving Aubrey to panic within, she decided to shake her head in denial, which seemed to work, 'You were found unconscious in the streets of Beauclair … with a single bluebell in your hair. Not how I expected to meet you after all these years.' He spoke with raised eyebrows, leaving Aubrey to frown in bewilderment. Did he leave her on the streets? With a flower?
'What? I-I can't remember anything … I was searching for clues … and-and-' She lied.
'It's alright, I understand. I think I might know what happened to you, but we need to speak in private.' He replied with a nod, peaking her interest.
'Of course Geralt, perhaps the gardens?' She asked with a broken voice, standing, her head just meeting his collarbone. Dots blurring her vision, legs loose and weak invoking her to stumble, but Geralt was quick enough to catch her.
'No, I've got a place. The Mère-Lachaiselongue Cemetery.' His words enticing Aubrey to grimace. A cemetery? She was interrupted by his chuckle, his quick chuckle that caught her from falling in too far, so many memories and thoughts.
'Trust me, there's good reason to go there. I'll save the trouble and tell you now … Regis is there,' Aubrey struggled to suppress a laugh. She couldn't help but choke, so he was walking around and not just melted slush like Geralt said he was when Vilgeforts killed him, 'And he's alive.'
That's when she laughed once more in happiness, in tears of happiness, Dettlaff had not lied to her, however, had left her in a complicated and very irrational position. Geralt surprisingly wasn't taken back from her outrageous behavior, and instead wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, to stabilize her as they walked slowly from the lonely healer's territory.
'So witcher, how was your journey to here?'
'It was alright, nothing special.'
'No, I mean … how were your journeys before being asked to come here? How do you feel? You got your little Cirilla back, and she's now soon to be Empress of Nilfgaard. How is Dandelion, Zoltan, Triss, Yennefer?' He smiled, genuinely smiled at her words. She always loved when he did that, to see the witcher show his true colours. A kind, compassionate and wise man, a good person.
'I'm feeling fine for someone who defeated the wild hunt, took part in the assassination of Radovid and reconciled with Yennefer of Vengerberg.' He spoke sarcastically, enticing Aubrey to laugh uncontrollably as he finally let go of her.
'Lovely Geralt, you must tell me all about it on the way to the cemetery. It seems you've had a great journey, I'm glad. It also seems you've found your peace … until this all happened at least.' She chuckled, as they strolled to the ducal stables. Geralt assisted her in jumping up on her horse before he whistled for his Roach.
'I'm used to it, a witcher doesn't get given peace, not so suddenly like that. I was expecting something like this to happen, a paramount contract. But I have this feeling Aubrey, this could be my final contract. Maybe this time, I'll earn my peace or some form of it. The Duchess gave me real estate.'
'Oh yes, you certainly deserve it Geralt, and this real estate you talk of, no chances of it being our current morgue Corvo Bianco?'
'Yeah, it is. Not too bad, I actually like it a lot. I'm thinking about asking Yen to live with me there.' She simpered at the witcher's rare moment of dreaming, his eyes reaching out to the distance as they rode on. She hummed in agreeance, as they rode by streams, sheep, and vineyards. And soon wonderfully large packs of wild Bluebells … the flowers that represent kindness … and that is when she remembered vividly. Dettlaff, an Alp and the blue bell, something she would never forget.
