The Witcher: My Heart Will Always Recognize You

by DaWitcher

Geralt of Rivia has started anew in Kovir with his lover, the sorceress Triss Merigold. Their lives full of love & new adventures, yet each must contend with the dangers of their past. They'll endure the tortures of longing when they're apart. He'd take contracts more from habit, returning to her embraced. Friends are reunited, new love bloom and scars thought healed are reopened..

25. What The Heart Desires

Chapter 25: What The Heart Desires

Morning, Kovir...Pont Vanis…

Loneliness was a companion to every witcher who'd walked the path, yet it had become almost foreign to Geralt in Kovir. Now, it manifested as the vice that gripped him, squeezing so tightly that even the strongest of wine or ale could not stave off the longing and pain he felt so far from his sorceress and young daughter. Like Cirilla, Rosina was Geralt's world, her tiny hands holding onto his as she laughed and warmed to his presence. Though his daughter's slightest cry would sting, an anguished affliction that seeped into his skin like the cuts from a sharp blade, he longed to hear her little voice. Rosina was their hearts, fragile as a single flake of snow, her small frail body fit neatly and tucked safely in his arms. There were days when he'd wake in the middle of the night and sit watching his little Rosi sleep, only to return to their bed, to Triss' arms when the sorceress called. His child was a gift no witcher had ever received and though Geralt longed for his enchantress, his baby's absence was hardest to endure. He missed the feel of her soft pink skin against his chest, and those eyes that knew nothing of the cruelties of the world, just adoration for her father. Awake, the witcher could retreat to a place of solace in memories of Triss' arms wrapped around him, as the enchantress cradled his head on her chest. Yet, in the quietness of his morning, they'd become forms and shapes, beautiful figures captured in still images in his mind, that took to life as the emptiness of their home played cruel tricks on him, with echos of her voice, Rosi's cries, and Cirilla twirling her sword in practice. Geralt sighed, Triss' auburn hair across his chest as she slept, the soft whispers of her breaths before she woke, the enchantress' morning rituals as she readied herself for the royal court, the sounds of her voice as she sang to their daughter, were all his places of respite. Geralt had opened his eyes each morning, reminiscing and drowning himself in thoughts of his enchantress and children. He longed for Cirilla's stories, and her fondness for the life they'd made together in Kovir. She would often join in their evenings, as they sat beside the fireplace, telling epic tales about each of her many hunts.

Were she home, Triss would wake him with a kiss on the lips, and he missed their awkward morning conversations. Geralt imagined his enchantress in everything around him, from the frames of painted portraits on the walls, to the foolishness of her mare Broggha. The passage of time is said to dull many things, broken hearts often mend with time, the pain of loss dulls, old flames die, yet this was never the case with the feelings they've shared. Time did not know them, as each passing moment drew their thoughts ever closer to each other. Triss had been gone for days, yet her aura remained. The sweet delicate hint of strawberries engulfed his nostrils, her fragrance in the air, and with it the witcher's mind flooded with more images of her. The swirl of the curtain blowing as if the breeze had caught it reminded him of how she'd stand there by the window, a phantom image turned to smile at him, a trick of the light, he knew his enchantress was in Ard Skellig and Pyro had moved the curtains. It'd been years, but her face was just as alluring as the day Geralt first laid eyes on her. Her eyes churning behind a soft smile and torturous giggle that could set his darkest days aflame. She was his warmth and comfort, in a life that had offered him anything but. Her scent lingered faintly in the parlor, but always overwhelmed his senses when he visited their bedroom. He could open the window and let the breeze take it away, but as torturous as it was, it was hers, the memories and feelings it conjured stayed his loneliness from consuming him. He had even thought to learn a new skill, perhaps, to cope with the absence of his girls, maybe even take a witcher contract, but that was Cirilla's hunt. So many things had happened since he was dropped in the forest near the witcher's keep of Kaer Morhen. He laid in bed lazily and wondered what would've been lost had he not asked Triss to stay with him, but in his loneliest thoughts, the witcher could always find his way back to his sorceress' embrace. Unaware of the enchantress' yearning for him, he thought it unfair, she was gone, leaving him to endure the longing. Geralt of Rivia had grown fond of his life, and though their life together hadn't been easy, each moment held meaning. Triss had given him something more than he'd ever known, more than he'd hoped for, yet the void left by her absence could not be remedied, not even by the savage twirling of his sword in practice, a witcher's contract, nor by his time in the garden. He was consumed, by her scent, her books on the table, her vials and potion on the shelves across their home.

As the morning sun rose and graced the horizon, tormenting the witcher like a foul phantom grin creeping through the open windows, slowly crawling towards their bed, its rays warming his scraggly face only to remind him of what was missing. Daylight always brought forth the dread he felt. Something was amiss, and he felt it in his bones. Like an invisible tether between them, his dreams always warned of impending danger to Cirilla, now his instincts warned not of danger, but uneasiness in Rosi. He could feel her presence, and her mother's presence. Even so far away from them, Rosi's magic affected him. The morning was dull, there were no reassuring sounds, no clanking of Triss' vials, the smell of her treats, those random soft kisses he'd grown so accustomed to or the enchantress' soft touch. He'd woken each morning hoping she'd be there to greet him, yet the lonely silence was only broken by the soft chorus of the birds chirping. Geralt had trained morning to noon each day since, and still this pain he felt would not leave him. There was a brief moment of lull when the sorceress Keira Metz visited, now the witcher hoped she'd return, even if just for a moment. Keira wasn't his Triss, but she was a close friend and her presence had brought him some relief, however fleeting. The aches he felt, the burning in his scars, could not be soothed, say by Triss' hands and lips. Geralt had never known true peace till now, and no one could make him feel this way or replace what they had forged. Triss would kiss his face each morning, masking her own fears, hiding her needs behind her smile. He clutched her pillow, taking in its soothing scent, then slowly climbed out of bed and stood beside the window. Seeing the sunlight grace the gardens and roses he'd so delicately grown for his sorceress, he was resolved to watching its hues of green leaves and rosy red petals. He felt it cruel, how the morning could be as radiant and yet so somber.

Get a grip, witcher. They're fine, Ciri and Rosi are fine, Triss is fine. He thought, as Pyro brushed his legs.

His night was restless, more so than the previous nights had been since Triss, Rosina and Cirilla left. Geralt felt a disquiet, an anxiousness he could not rid himself of, even if he had sought to sever such an intimate connection. They were familiar, accompanied by a comforting coziness he'd felt on so many occasions, as Rosi cried, or whenever he held his child in his arms. Whatever he was feeling felt as though it flowed into him, he could feel his children and sorceress as if they were all standing in the same room. He knew his Rosina was no normal child, she was special, his child, his little girl, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect her. She carried her mother's talent and traces of his mutations had passed to her. Triss and the other sorceresses had warned him that Rosi's abilities would manifest in stages as she grew. Geralt had pondered the effect of his mutations on her tiny fragile body since he heard and felt her first heartbeats, perhaps this was the reason the trial of the grasses rendered witchers sterile. Rosi would need his guidance and her mother's tutelage as she came of age. They knew she'd need their love and encouragement to face the world, lest she be damned to a lonely existence, shunned for her abilities and mutations. On his request, Triss had committed. She and her sisters agreed to used powerful magic and remedies in a risky effort that had changed their bodies. He remembered the toll it had taken on the enchantress' body so she could bare his child, and though the results of their treatment were not permanent, Rosina was the child of their love.

Just like his wife and sorceress, Triss Merigold, the witcher was concerned that his child's ability, if unnurtured, could harm her, yet Geralt knew her mother, as well as the enchantresses Margarita and Keira, would be there to teach her. The witcher was no stranger to children with potent abilities which often proved difficult even for the most skilled sorceresses. Cirilla was one of said children, and Alvin another. Though Rosina had no lineage to elder blood, in her veins flowed a potent mixture of genetics. She was their child, the offspring of the most skilled witcher and arguably the most talented sorceress in all the northern kingdoms. Rosi's magic was impressive for someone still in the early months of life. Geralt grinned proudly, he remembered Regis's question as they spoke in Toussaint, when his old friend asked 'what he wouldn't do to protect Yennefer', but in that moment, he recalled his thoughts had been worlds away from that raven-haired sorceress. He felt his witcher's heart beating within him, yet it was as if it'd been torn from his chest and held elsewhere, in Kovir, with the sorceress he yearned to hold. In that moment, the White Wolf could have answered, and told Regis that those feelings had died long ago, but such conversations were of no meaning to him, fixtures of a life he no longer wished to indulge in. His answer was certain as the rising of the sun, he'd do anything for Triss. He was her lover, husband and her guard dog, as Radovid sought her death. Geralt could always say what he was feeling, it was easy whenever Triss was near, yet what he felt now, the deep sad longing that consumed him, could not be easily described. The witcher thought to put his affections into words, and scribe them in a letter to Triss. He took a few pieces of parchment from her drawer, Triss' scent soaked them still, torturing him almost to the verge of madness, as he lumbered across their bedroom and into the parlor. On the table laid the letter from Count Beledal, the man had made a heartfelt plea Geralt knew Triss would not refuse.

I felt Rosi crying during the night, or was I dreaming? Geralt thought, as he sat beside the fireplace, and unfurled the parchments in his hand, then twisted his body to stretch his neck. He stared at the parchment before him, it was blank, absent words, and his thoughts began to race as he searched for words. He slid his hand across the page, his fingers slowly moving as words appeared on the parchment. "Here I go...damn, I'm no good with these things."

Dear Triss,

I've missed you. With Rosi, Ciri and you gone, I...

Geralt scribbled on the piece of parchment, then crumpled it and threw in the floor. "Hmm, too formal." He mumbled, grabbing a second piece of parchment. "I need something more personal...and maybe romantic, Triss'd like that."

My Triss, "Argh! Ciri is going to poke fun at this. I sound stupid, maybe something more precise." He growled, then crumpled another parchment as he pondered what to write. Dear wife. No...My little fox. He grinned, Hmm , My dearest... "Better."

My dearest Triss,

I've always wanted to write you a good letter, but nothing I do could possibly match your prose, and the feelings you churn with your letters. I read them when I'm alone, or on a hunt, but I have trouble finding the right words to give my reply. What can I say to my wife, a woman who's given me more than I deserve? You know what I feel, I've tried to show it. I know what I'm feeling now, but I find myself staring at an almost blank page, thinking about the little things I love in you. I could list them all but my mind keep going back to your hair falling across you face as you sleep, your eyes, those eyes that brighten your face when you smile, the soft wrinkles in your dress as you walk, twisting your hips. As I sit here, apart from you, Rosi, and now Ciri, I have time to remember my life before your were a part of my every thought. Before I continue, I have a confession, too. There is another women in my life now. She's beautiful, tiny, but strong, and she looks more like her mother than me. While you lay in our bed,asleep, I'd sneak into her bedroom on restless nights and watch her sleep…

"Argh...I sound like a fool." Geralt muttered, then lifted his head as Pyro walked past him and headed for the door. Their recent warm bond had strained, as both wolves retreated to their places of comfort, Geralt to his bed or the sorceress' lab, where he found comfort in his lover's scent, and Pyro to Rosi's bedroom. The wolf would sit lazily for hours, his bond with Rosina had made the creature behave oddly, as if lost. Geralt opened the door as Pyro growled, then brushed his body against the witcher's, just as he'd done each day when leaving for his hunt. I'll finish this later. It's not like Triss can read it anyway...I don't have that kind of magic.

Geralt gently folded his letter to the sorceress and placed it on top on the fireplace, then took his seat and began another letter to Barnabas-Basil Foulty, the majordomo of their vineyard in Toussaint. He'd planned to requisition a new shipment of fine wine to replenish what was offered to King Tancred days earlier, but the thought had slipped his mind.

Hmm, I'll need to train, then tend to her rose garden. He thought to himself, sliding the half-finished letter across the table. It should be fine. It's blooming, so many of them. I think that was successful. Keira will help me protect it for the winter. "I don't know how she'll get this, but I need her to read it." Geralt mumbled, then patted his face lightly as he continued.

September, 1275...Hindarsfjall...Freya's Temple.

Triss opened her eyes, she felt the light touches of fingers across her neck, her dreams were of Geralt. Her moans would have woken everyone in the temple, had they not been so secluded. As she opened her eyes, she noticed the hands on her neck were that of her child. Rosi hadn't woken, yet her small fingers caressed her mother's neck as she tucked her face in her breast, just as her father would each night. Triss hadn't noticed the high priestess Modron Sigrdrifa sitting just behind them, as she gently suckled her still sleeping child. Her mind and body suddenly flooded with a deep longing, her yearning to be with Geralt screamed through every fiber of her being. As the days passed and the time for her return drew nearer, it felt as though the days had grown longer, time had slowed cruelly, draining her like a wet sponge each day. It was a torment she hadn't prepared for, and neither had Geralt. At that moment, in her mind, she was rehearsing a new letter for her lover. She'd tell him about their day, her conversation with an old friend...no, she wanted to tell him of his children, how she'd finally stopped running and embraced Cirilla, how Ciri had found her heart in an unexpected place. She'd fallen in love with a queen, Skellige's queen no less, but that's a story for a campfire someday. She wanted to share each moment, how Rosi missed him, as she clutched their daughter close to her heart and felt her witcher as if he was right there beside her.

I'm awake. Rosi is suckling and still asleep, that's good. She cried so much last night, I should've gone back...What an awful night. What's wrong with me? This place, that garden, is calling to my baby, I can feel it. I need to take her away from here, back to Kaer Trolde, but I feel as if she wants to be here. Triss thought to herself, as she ran her hands through Rosi's sweaty hair. My dream...my chest is aching, I can feel your father as if he's right here.

"Ahem! It's good ye could sleep, sorceress. Yer bairn' asleep." The voice of the priestess echoed from just behind the sorceress. The women had spent the night watching over them.

Triss raised her head and scanned the surrounding chamber and noticed Alina resting on the floor, not far from where the sorceress slept. Triss turned towards the voice, where the woman sat, cheeks resting in her palm. Triss Merigold, have you no shame?! Lewd dreams about your husband, in a temple?

"Yer dream, the one ye moan fer in yer sleep, is it yer Geralt? Where is he now?"

"Forgive me. My dream was of my man, but I woke to my baby's touch. I didn't mean to be crude…" Triss sighed as the priestess looked on, her eyes furrowed with curiosity. "Geralt is in Kovir, at our home."

"I don't mind yer moaning, ye're a woman in love, and a sorceress at that, but I was wondering. Is it true that sorceresses and witchers can't control their sexual attractions?"

"Priestess!" Triss yelled, startling Rosina and Lina who quickly returned to sleep.

"I get it, if ye don't want to talk about it, but do ye think ye're the only woman to talk to me about love, do ye? This is Freya's temple."

"No, but..."

"So, it's true then? How can ye stand to be away from yer man?" The high priestess Modron Sigrdrifa asked, then took and held Rosina in her arms.

"Priestess, must we discuss this? Oh, alright. It's true witchers and sorceresses are unusual in our umm...demands, but we are not without restraints. I desire only one man and absent his love everything is dreary, trite and lacking flavor. I don't know if you can understand what I am about to say...without Geralt's affection I feel empty, and nothing else holds meaning."

"I get it, ye can't control yer fleshly desires, but yer feelings for Geralt are true. He's the one who takes yer fancy?" The priestess whispered.

"High priestess, please! You're embarrassing me and this is a temple."

"Embarrassing ye? Aye tis Freya's temple, but I'm trying to pick yer brain. Maybe ye shouldnae be moaning fer yer witcher, when ye're sleeping, if ye don't want me to ask." High priestess Sigrdrifa said, as Triss' face turned a pale white. The sorceress lowered her gaze as the women spoke.

"Eh, this is so mortifying...I've awoken into an inquiry about my romance, and with a priestess—the high priestess—no less." Triss mumbled.

"I could feel the rise in yer body the moment we started talking about yer witcher. Geralt drives ye into madness. It's dangerous to love someone so much, ye know?"

"I know, but I love him. We are not hypersexual, or freaks, as many believe. I'll admit, Geralt and I are...eh, how do I say this without sounding ill-mannered...our desires for each other can be a consuming passion. My yearning for him always was, but I like to believe our eagerness and cravings are much deeper than simple 'fleshly desires'."

"Aye, ye and yer witcher have yerselves a strong connection, but ye and he are more passionate than ye think. That's the reason ye are drawn to him, even when it causes ye pain."

"Pain, hmm...pain doesn't dull with time, not for me. It festers until you are suffocating in it, then I bury myself in work, anything I can find, to be of use to someone. I should've forgotten Geralt so long ago, but how could I forget what my heart yearns for so much? I relish the bond we have, the intimacy we've shared now.

"Geralt aches for yer, I know ye feel it." The priestess mumbled. "Why did ye do it? The girl, why did ye take the risk?"

"Simply put, I adore him. I knew the risks and I'd take them gladly, if given the choice again. My Rosi is a child that shouldn't have been, but I did it. I knew I could die, but the moment he asked, I wanted it."

The high priestess lifted her hands from Rosina's face and held them towards the enchantress as she called. "Calm yourself and come here, child."

Child? It's quite possible I'm older than this woman, but her voice just now reminded me of him. Child, he'd always say that. You are right, child...of course, child. Triss sat languishing in her own thoughts, reminiscing about an old witcher.

She felt the woman's words strike her heart. They were Vesemir's words, and they were often preceded by advice or words of comfort. The high priestess gazed at the enchantress, then touched her face, as the sorceress lifted her body and knelt before her. She scanned, inspecting Triss' face, first her eyes, then they both lowered their eyes to the medallion around the sorceress' neck that'd been humming for some time. As she spoke, Triss listened keenly, moving only when the priestess turned her attention to Rosina, who had opened her eyes.

"Yer bairn's packing traits from her da and ye. She can feel the darkness in the magic here. Yennefer corrupted the sacred garden when she conjured foul magic to bring back Craven."

"I know what Yennefer did and I am so sorry, I know she feels regret. My words can't undo the damage to your sacred site, and I won't condone what was done, but I will not condemn my sister or Geralt for what they did. Everything we've done was to help Geralt find Cirilla. We've all made mistakes, but we are not monsters and we're not heartless."

"I know ye're not monsters, but I can't speak for yer heart. On Skellige, our traditions hold meaning, can't ye see that?. Yer man and Yennefer insulted our ways. Continentals come here, ignore our traditions, and desecrate our holy sites. We have respect for Geralt, but what happened to the garden is not so simple, sorceress." High priestess Modron Sigrdrifa said. "I remember, some years back I agreed for Yennefer to use brisingamen for her megascope to find yer Ciri, and then she does this, Freya's garden is defiled."

"I shouldn't have brought my little girl here. I'm trying to help, but I can't bear this. I am draining my magic just to shield my baby. Like all my sisters, you know we are trained to sense the slightest magic and the magic here is arcane. I need your help, please, tell me how to stop this. I love my baby and I'll do anything for her, please help me. I hide my fears when I should have none. I know he loves me, but because of me Geralt is involved in politics." Triss croaked softly. She tried to conceal the anxiousness she felt, yet her eyes betrayed her feelings. The enchantress took a long deep breath and steadied herself.

The priestess fixed her gaze at the sorceress, then gently rocked her knees as she held Rosina. "What are yer ashamed of, child, and what are yer mistakes?"

"My mistakes are mine, but I have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Aye, ye have no reason to be ashamed, but ye need to believe it and I don't think ye do." High Priestess Sigrdrifa said, her expression dull as she gazed at Triss.

I believe it. Geralt shows me everyday. " Let's not discuss it, I know what I feel. I am here because, I'd like to help do what I can to undo the damage to your sacred garden, if that's even possible. I can feel this place, and there is still a magical presence here." Triss whispered, running her finger against the inside of Rosi's palm. "There is one thing I'd like to address...the boy they call Craven, Skjall, he was no coward."

"How do ye know that? Why would ye say that now?"

"What's happening here is connected to him. Ciri and Geralt told me the story. Had he not taken Cirilla from the village, no one would've survived the Wild Hunt."

"Ciri again? Maybe so, but there's nothing ye can do, Craven was stricken from the clan, the jarl decided that."

Triss sighed, "I don't want to question your customs, but that was wrong. He saved more lives by his action than he could've with his sword. Something has to be done, there is no honor in unfairly casting him out. He is no craven, and if Ciri and Geralt said he wasn't I have to believe he wasn't."

"Aye, there is no honor in it, if yer story is true, but we don't know that."

"You are right, and my words will hold no meaning here. I need to go, I can't keep my child here. I have to take her back to Kaer Trolde, where she'll be far from this magic. She's my entire world, and this disturbance here could harm her." Triss said, as the woman rose to her feet to place her child in her arms.

As quickly as her fears were manifesting, Triss regained some measure of calm. She knew her feelings would affect Rosi, they were bonded so deeply she could feel it. Rosi had always been attuned to her parents and sister from the moment of her birth. The sorceress steadied herself, then took her seat on a small bench. The hue within the inner chambers of Freya's temple was dull, the lights were dim, Rosi's doing. The little sorceress had burned every torch and lit candle in the temple the night before. She was calm, quiet now, but Triss knew it was her magic that shielded her child from the power that were present in the garden and temple. The spell she'd cast on Rosi's charm wasn't enough and sometime during the night she'd erected a complex magic barrier allowing Rosi to sleep calmly. Though drained, she managed to sleep while holding her barrier, a similar feat she'd performed in Flotsam while nearly unconscious. As her magic began to fade, Triss felt faint, yet she cradled her arms and tucked Rosi. Her stubbornness carried significant risk, she could faint or worse exhaust herself and even die from using so much magic for so long.

Nearby, there was a fireplace made of stone and she felt its warmth for the first time since she woke. Lina was still asleep exhausted, she had spent the night loyally at the sorceress' side caring for Rosina. Triss hadn't noticed, but the priestess lit more candles, then threw scented shrubs into the fireplace. The sudden smell took her gaze away for a moment, but her eyes wandered back to her baby, it felt rejuvenating, calming. She tucked Rosi's feet against her belly, cupping her face, soothing and stroking her hair. Her arms wrapped around her baby like a cocoon, the enchantress spoke to her.

"I'm right here with you, Rosi, I'll never allow anything to happen to you." Triss whispered softly, her voice choked as she planted a kiss on Rosina's forehead.

Rosi growled, then kicked her feet and chuckled. "Hee-hedg."

"I love you so much...and you remind me so much of your father." She replied as Rosi smiled, babbling and cooing as if to refute her mother's claims, but Triss confirmed it in a soft whisper and the gentlest smile. "You really do."

The enchantress' eyes clouded with tears as Rosi's hands tightly clung to her finger, her tiny beady eyes changing to a deep yellow, witcher eyes like her father's, yet it didn't get so much as a flinch from the priestess who sat beside her watching her tenderness. Triss kept her eyes hidden until her tears dried, but she noticed how Rosi did not frighten the woman, as she did with Sister Josta and the other priestesses. They were afraid, fearful, because no one had seen the garden react to magic since its destruction, until Triss and Rosi arrived the day before. They were unaware, but the sudden excitement and spike she was feeling in Rosi's magic, was caused by the arrival of another. Someone as tethered to both she and Rosi, as Geralt was to them.

"I feel yer bond with her. I don't know why, but yer girl don't want to leave. Something's calling to her, and yer magic is keeping it back. She is Geralt's bairn. Geralt and Yennefer caused this, now ye have to make amends. There's no evil here, but the sacred tree calls to yer bairn."

"Rosi is barely five months old, what can she do? She did nothing, and Geralt isn't here. Please, will you help me?" Triss mumbled, as Rosi began to whine.

"Ye miss him, even now ye're thinking to flee this place with yer baby."

"Yes!"

"She's in no danger, but fer ye to bring her peace, ye must take her to the tree. Ye know that, ye can feel it too, can't ye? I know her tether to ye. If ye leave here and don't visit Freya's garden, ye could harm yer youngin'."

Triss could feel the magical presence growing even stronger suddenly, the garden had an unpleasant aura to it, a troubling presence that disturbed her senses. Attuned to the slightest magic, both she and Rosina could feel it. It wasn't painful, but unpleasant and sickening. Still, within that corruption, rested a tinge of magic that was welcoming, echoes of a familiar magical presence still lingered in that place, she felt a subtle pleasantness of what was once a powerful magical essence in the garden. That place called to her child, hence Rosina's discomfort the moment she woke. Although the spell Triss had placed on Rosi's charm provided some relief during the night, even deep beneath the temple, that tainted magic still permeated the area. The barrier she raised to protect Rosi had severely weakened since she woke, the enchantress began to feel sick to the stomach, but stubbornly continued to apply more of her magic to hold it's protection. Triss wore a calm exterior, as she struggled with her own thoughts. During her conversation with the priestess, Sister Josta interrupted just as the high priestess spoke of praying to the goddess Freya.

"We have trouble outside." Josta said, raising her voice. Her franticness woke Lina who, innocently enough, felt and sensed nothing. Sister Josta scurried towards them with a confused angry look in her eyes, she folded her arms. "That ashen-haired witcher from Kaer Trolde, a sorceress, and yer soldiers from Kovir are outside."

"Soldiers?" The priestess asked. "A witcher and sorceress? What do they want?"

"Aye, the one who fled with Craven in Lofeton, she's come here looking for this one. The lass said ye're her ma." Josta replied, then rested her hands on her hips. "Soldiers are in the temple, the man is angry, and he's frightening the worshipers. Can ye tell them to leave?"

"Yes, and?!" Triss answered, then softened her tone. "Where is she?"

"Out there, with yer soldiers." Josta answered.

"Ciri is here, Rita too." Triss mumbled, her eyes scrolled back and forth, she was worried, but Ciri's presence was welcome news. I'm sure Einar is angry...who would blame him? "Alright, give us a moment."

"Aye, m'lady." Josta answered.

"Lina, go back to bed, you need to rest. I need you alert later." Triss said, but Lina had already nuzzled her body on the floor and faded back to sleep.

"Josta, can ye bring the sorceress and witcher girl in here? This one is not ready to go yet." High priestess Modron Sigrdrifa whispered softly.

Sister Josta protested, then walked out to collect Margarita and Cirilla. Moments later, she returned with both women in tow. Rita, as always, quickly took Rosi from her mother's arms and held the girl. She, like her sister, sensed the magic aura and felt Triss' magic in conflict with the garden. Rita quickly scanned Rosi's body, then breathed a sigh of relief as she swayed her body moving softly, like the gentle waves on a calm sea. Cirilla paused, she kissed her sister's cheeks, then moved behind the fireplace and crashed her body on the floor just beside Triss. She prodded Triss' thigh with her elbow and the sorceress answered with a gentle nudge. As their bodies collided against each other, they shared soft smiles and whispers. The affectionate pokes were familiar, pleasant, and comforting, something they both loved and cherished. Ciri coiled her arm over Triss' leg, then tightly squeezed her waist as she leaned her head in her mother's lap. It felt good, as if her witcher had done it. Geralt would make similar small gestures, he'd often grab her waist, squeezing tightly as he took whiff of her hair and neck. Cirilla felt uneasy, Vesemir's medallion around her neck hummed, but she said nothing, as Rita broached the subject.

"Do you feel the foulness in the magic here?" Rita asked, her tone scolding. "Why did you stay after sensing such things?"

"Rita, it's not so simple. I can't risk leaving now, I'd put Rosi in more danger by doing that. Just breaking her connection to this place could harm her, you know that. She's drawn to whatever is here. We have to visit that sacred tree, I need to see and inspect the place."

"You can't do anything, but I think yer bairn can. The druids know how to channel the forest, this one too. I don't know how to tell ye, but yer child is strange. She's not in danger, ye know?" The priestess said, trying to calm Triss, but the sorceress' mind was elsewhere.

"'Strange'? In other words she's a monster, is that it? Just like the other priestesses, label my baby? She's not, and how would you know she'd not in danger, priestess? You don't feel what I feel."

"Calm yerself, woman. Ye don't know what I feel! Yer bairn is no monster. Josta and the girls were frightened of what the child can do, what she is. Ye are her ma, and I know ye're worried, tis be unnatural if ye weren't, but there is no evil here."

"I know, but I didn't intend on confronting my baby's abilities this way. I knew it'd happen with time, not here and certainly not now." Triss whispered, then gently lifted Ciri's head as she stood.

Rita walked towards the wall with Rosi in her arms, whispering as she paced. "Why did you stay so long and allow the connection to take hold? Triss, you know very well what this kind of magic could do, especially to one so young."

"I do...shit! What have I done?! She was inconsolable, Rita, and I didn't think to return right away. The priestess brought us down here, I thought it would help. I had to charm her anklet, and hold this barrier through the night...now I'm nearly drained. Geralt will be livid when he hears about this mess. Dammit, I messed up!" Triss replied, as she tied her hair in a messy bun and took a few steps forward. "I've got to go to that garden."

"Triss? What's going on? Why are you so fraught?" Ciri asked as she stood and move closer to the sorceress.

"Over time, magic takes a toll on the body, Ciri. Rosi is too young, a baby. She's not consciously using her abilities now, but she is affecting the magical forces nearby. Prolonged exposure to that kind of power could force her abilities to develop without proper awareness or training. She is an infant and there is no way to train her for that."

"Can't you just prevent it by severing the connection she's made? You're capable of blocking it, aren't you?" Ciri asked, concerned.

"Mmhmm, I am, but I fear it's too risky. Simply cutting her off from the source of that magic could cause a shock to her. She's sensitive, almost unparalleled for one so young to be so heightened to magic. I've known since the day she was born." Triss replied, as she felt Ciri's hands on her sides.

"Cirilla, Triss is right. Think of it like this...you are standing high on a ledge, and it suddenly collapses beneath you. If we sever her connection, it'd be like falling off that ledge, and she is too young to endure such trauma." Rita added, as Rosina clung to her body. "There was no way to know this would happen."

Cirilla balled the enchantress' gown in her hand and tugged on it. "It's alright."

Triss turned quickly and embraced Cirilla. Her arms wrapped around Ciri's body as she pulled her closer, gently caressing her shoulders, then moving to her daughter's neck as Cirilla embraced her. In spite of the nervous swell in her stomach, their embrace made them both flutter, as they pressed their bodies even closer. Cirilla dove into the warmth of the sorceress' body, each appreciating the simple gesture and intense bond that had grown between them. Her armor felt rough but warm, she'd been standing close to the flames, and their hugs had made the chamber even warmer. There was a softness that felt like swaddling, as Triss held and cradled her body, like a cherished child. It felt safe, their worries faded and when it ended, a notable frown took them both.

"I made a mistake bringing your sister along, now I think Rosi is in resonance with the garden in this place. I'm certain you can feel the magical energy here. It isn't pleasant, and I've been using a charm to keep her shielded from it." Triss whispered to Ciri.

"Rosi will be fine, Triss. Please, calm down. Knowing you, you stayed awake all night, you are exhausted." Ciri replied. Her words were soaked with comfort, yet she could sense their mother's concern even as she tried to hide her own.

"Ciri, your father will be so angry with me for this. I put his child in danger, how could I be so stupid? What was I thinking, coming here?!" Triss shouted, sighing as she squeezed her fists.

"How is he going to learn of this, who's going to tell him?" Ciri asked.

Triss chortled, then shook her head. "I will. I won't keep this a secret or lie to him. She's his child and he deserves to know...and rightfully so if he's upset. I know what his reaction will be. It tears me from inside, and he doesn't even realizes it. I'd rather take a tongue-lashing than those eyes glaring without the love and warmth I want in them. He'll stare, in silence, as he makes that face, and his eyes scolding without uttering a single word. I know my lover well, Ciri."

"No, he won't, Geralt's affection for you is deeper than you know. He's stubborn, sure, and can be dull, but he knows you'll die before putting his Rosi in harm's ways. She'll be fine." Ciri smiled, "Come, don't beat yourself up."

"Please, baby girl, you can comfort me later. Right now, I need you to stay here with Rosi. Keep her calm, and no matter what, don't leave and sever her link to this place, not until I figure out why she's drawn to this kind of magic."

"Uh huh, I'll wait here and join you if anything changes." Ciri answered.

"No, just wait here and be with your sister. Esseath yuuyo en'ca minne." Triss whispered as she kissed Ciri's cheeks, then Rosi's lips, just as Rita placed the child in her sister's arms.

We are her love. Ciri thought, then smiled as she raised her arms to take Rosi.

"Rita, could you watch them both? I'll inspect the garden and tree, then return with whatever I find."

"Alright, but don't do anything foolish. I understand your concerns, I have them too, but I sense Rosi is in no immediate danger, so be cautious." Rita warned, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "You are exhausted, you will need to rest later and, please, do be careful. I'll keep an eye on your magic and if I sense something, I'll join you. I can care for the little love here and ensure she isn't harmed."

Cirilla hurried forward with Rosina tucked firmly across her body, then she took Triss' hand into hers and give it a gentle reassuring squeeze as the sorceress turned to walk away. Triss paused, but she didn't shift her gaze to them. Her eyes lowered towards the floor as Cirilla, spoke. "Why do you always say things in elder speech?"

"The language of the elves is beautiful, and so are my girls. Sometimes, common tongue doesn't have the sweetness to convey what I feel inside." Triss answered softly, as they squeezed each other's hands. "I'll be back soon, ok?"

"Mmhmm."

***][***

Triss quickly escaped the inner sanctums of the temple and made her way through the doors to the prayer hall, where the statue stood. There, the sorceress first laid eyes on Captain Einar. The man looked incensed, but her unwavering, fixed eyes stayed his words. He waved his fingers and his guards obeyed, moving to take their positions outside the temple. All young men, many of high birth, all eagerly serving in Kovir's royal guard. Just up the stairs, one hundred meters or so from the temple, gathered the rest of her guards. None wore helmets, their faces held a certain stiffness, as their cloaks took to the wind.

"Did ye run from yer guard to come here?" High priestess Sigrdrifa said, as she walked beside the sorceress. "He don't look happy with ye."

"Guilty as charged. I'm sure I'll hear his formal complaints later, but I didn't want to bring soldiers to your temple steps." Triss replied.

"He's important to ye."

"Important? Hmm...I have their respect." Triss chuckled. "His name is Einar. He can be stiff with his duties, but he's honorable and loyal. They saved my life, he and his brothers, while I was still heavy with Rosina. Had it not been for them, I'd been dead and my child lost forever."

"They respect ye for yer deeds, not yer title as sorceress. Josta, Kurisu and the others too, but they are also afraid of ye." High priestess Sigrdrifa nodded as Triss glanced over her shoulder at her.

"They have nothing to fear from me, I won't harm anyone or do anything that endanger your sacred garden any further. Certainly not while my baby's being affected by this place. As for the guards, forgive their rigidness, these boys hold honor above all else." Triss answered, "They are responsible for guarding me and my child. The privilege of being the mage advisor, I'm afraid, and I'm certainly not making it easy for them."

"Aye, but ye are honorable too, ye know? Geralt, yer bairn's da, he's an honorable man and all the Isles know it." Priestess Sigrdrifa mumbled.

"I know, I've heard people talking about him everywhere I've visited." Triss said, allowing herself a small measure of pride.

Triss gave the women another glance, then turned her eyes forward. The rich orange hue of the morning sun hung between the trees, bleeding like fire in the east, rising slowly to greet the morning sky. She learned that her guards had sailed during the early hours of the morning to reach Hindar and the temple. There was a sudden warmth, a breathtaking display of colors as the sun revealed itself fully, swelling across the sky as its brilliant rays warmed the air. The sorceress drew a deep long breath. She was a mother and an enchantress, readying herself for whatever was to come. The air hinted of a still dampness as the morning dews melted. The walk to the sacred garden was quiet, while the sorceress prepared herself.

A doe and her fawn scampered along the trail just in front of the enchantress, startled by their presence as the heavy sound of her guards' feet disturbed their foraging. A single bird sang as they walked by, its melody erupted as the morning and forest suddenly came to life. Its companions soon joined in the anthem, as if welcoming Triss and her escorts. The beauteous chorus of their song surged through the trees, along the Isle, cascading like a fast moving stream of music, and more birds joined in the tone. Triss closed her eyes, the magic she felt had grown stronger, as the garden beckoned to Rosina. The enchantress could feel her daughter's sorcery pulsing like her own heartbeat, throbbing through her body, almost overwhelming as she drew nearer to the garden. She lit both fire pits at the entrance to the garden, then climbed up the old vine covered stairs. Triss applied her sorcery to the gate and it opened with a loud rusty clunk, as if an old steel shackle had come undone.

The sight in the garden was dreadful and dull. The walls ancient, a blanket of thickened moss hugged the old crumbling stones. Vines and overgrown shrubs set the scene, like the wild forest of Flotsam. Triss held her hands at her side, her fingers trembling, but not in fright or nervousness. Her fierce maternal instinct had her mind in turmoil. She felt the crackling beneath her feet. Dried leaves littered the ground, mingling with the long lush grasses, nothing like the enchantress had expected. The exquisite light of the morning sun hadn't yet reached the inner areas of the garden, and a shadowy hood hung across the grounds. An eerie quietness haunted the place. Nothing chirped, or sang their morning ballad inside the garden. There was life, evident by the grasses and bushes nearby, yet the animals and insects deserted the place. A sense of dreaminess filled her body, a sepulchral silence hung over the garden where the sacred tree stood at its center, absent life. The priestess walked forward and led them through the grounds.

Triss glanced down as the witcher's medallion across her neck vibrated violently, hitting her chest. She felt what her witcher felt as he hunted, but the enchantress needed no medallion to sense the magic surrounding her. She felt and sensed a strange oddness to Rosina's magic, flowing through her. Her daughter's magic was growing in strength, as she and the others moved ever closer to the tree. Deep inside the garden, the old druid stood beside the sacred tree. A cold mist enshrouded it, the petrified branches pierced through the vaporous concoction like fingers, while the druid performed an ancient ritual. Triss, high priestess Sigrdrifa and a small squad of royal guards watched as Ermion completed the ritual. The sorceress effortlessly lit the fire pits surrounding the sacred tree, watching as the nascent flames danced amongst the dried wood, flickering like a spell. Glowing embers twirled like stars, swirling in the air, crackling like playful laughter. The smell of burning wood drifted across the garden like incense, but the smell was unappealing.

"There's something unusual happening here, sorceress. The garden has never reacted this way, not since…" Ermion paused, as Triss began to speak..

"Not since it was destroyed." She mumbled, then stepped forward and ran her hands along the dead lichen bark of the the old tree. Her fingers glided against its skin, caressing the roughness.

"Do ye feel that?" Ermion asked.

"Yes, Rosi. I can feel my baby's magic pulling on this place. It's not conscious, but she is connected to this garden. I can also feel the anger and suffering here. Loneliness, fear and regret...such a horrible death."

"Aye, Craven...Skjall. He died beneath the garden, and Yennefer's magic yanked his soul back to this place. She tortured the lad right where ye're standing now." The priestess said.

"Yer bairn's magic's that strong?" Ermion asked.

"Her abilities weren't this active, druid, not until we arrived at this temple yesterday." Triss replied. "I need to hurry, before I am too weak to even stand."

She signaled her guards and one stepped forward, then she handed the man three small amulets and directed him where to place them forming a loose radcliff triangle. Triss then took a handful of dirt, and touched the tree with her left hand. There was a sudden gust of wind and the soldiers bulked anxiously, say Einar. The swirling sound echoed eerily, like the garden had taken a sudden deep breath. Triss steadied herself, she'd begun to show signs of exhaustion, as the deadened echoes faded only to the tranquil sound of water flowing against stone, swishing and falling and crashing onto itself. The loud nervous clanking of the guards armor when they fidgeted distracted her and Triss quickly ordered them back. Einar had witnessed the fierceness of her magic once before, and he stood firm, while Ermion voiced his concern for her weakened state, but the sorceress was in no mood to listen. She'd asked Rita to stay with Ciri because she knew her sister would dissuade her from taking such reckless action. Fearing for Rosina's safety, Triss was resolved to probing the site and learning everything she could from the magical elements present there. She glanced at the hole in the ground, just off to her right, beside her feet. There was a chamber beneath the tree, a damp, dingy place. The sun had risen, and still a shadow hung over the garden like an ominous cloud. To her left was a small white stone table, stained with a splatter. Triss discerned it was blood, dried blood. She could easily identify the revealing marking of blood splatter from her many hunts with her witcher.

"Es mauy es, ettul—tuul es mauy valk..." She muttered, raising right hand to cast a powerful spell as her left hand gripped the tree. Her words flowed like silk, and though Ermion could not decipher her chants, her spell called forth echoes of the garden's last moments.

"What are ye doing, sorceress?!" Sigrdrifa shouted, almost in panic.

Ermion mumbled an incantation before pausing to speak. "Yer magic can do nothing here."

Triss turned her head slightly towards the priestess, her soft weary smile was reassuring. She applied her magic once more, muttering her spell. A sudden gust roared across the bare tree and garden, as though some wild dark grove had come to life. Dried leaves scud over the ground and took small flights, swirling into the air, as shrubberies hissed, whispering frantically. The old tree creaked as her magic chastised the garden. The air crackled loudly, her fiery hair pouring over her shoulders like red-hot threads. The enchantress' eyes glowed as her voice echoed, piercing the air in a stunning ritual. A grayish fog crawled from beneath the garden, breathing forth still lifeless shapes of Geralt and Yennefer. Just before the sorceress, on the ground, lay the shape of a Skellige warrior, a dullness in his face and skin, signs of his decomposition after his death in battle. The wind screamed in a howl. Ermion rocked backward on his heels, his beard fluttering as he braced himself, then twisted his body raising his hands high into the air, chanting desperately to manipulate the sudden disturbance in the weather above them.

"Necromancy?!" Sigrdrifa shrieked.

"Nae, memories, powerful memories and feelings." Ermion answered.

Einar barked, ordering his men back, as he lumbered forward, raising his arms to cover his eyes. He took the priestess by her shoulder, then braced her body against his armor, gently pulling her back. The woman raised her head to peer at the heavily armored man, as she felt the coldness against her back. It was her first clear glimpse of the captain's face and he held a smile, no longer wearing a frowny mug. Triss gripped her side, her body ached, she felt faint. A calm quickly settled around the garden as she finished her incantations. She staggered slightly, lost her balance, then braced her left hand against the tree.

"M'lady?" A young guard said. His large tightly-fitted armor groaned loudly as he stepped forward to aid the sorceress. The boy's soft voice betrayed his youth. He had a strong well-defined face, long brown hair that slung across his pale cheek, his eyes glazed with a frightened stare.

"I'm fine." Triss raised her hand and halted the young man in his tracks.

Ermion watched the sorceress lumber forward on her own, then spoke as she struggled to raise her body straight. "Are ye trying to kill yerself?! Casting magic spells till ye're drained?"

"Don't interfere, please. I had to finish, I haven't the energy to start over." Triss answered, her voice almost a whisper.

"What are ye doing?" Ermion asked. "Are ye mad? Ye'll die!"

"This." The enchantress replied, then uttered another spell and the scene came to life, just as Margarita emerge from her portal nearby. Triss peered at Rita, then quietly checked her own body with a weak diagnostic spell. Her efforts were in vain, she had little strength as she struggled to keep her barrier protecting Rosi.

Margarita moved to her sister's side, as a chilling silence hugged the garden. She was incensed, yet she showed a gentle concern as she admired Triss' deep maternal instinct and complete disregard for her own well-being. She placed her hands on Triss' abdomen, then muttered a diagnostic spell, gently applying her magic to Triss' body. She flinched, it was soothing. Rita ran her hand across Triss' sides, admonishing the sorceress softly, so only she could hear them.

"Rosi is safe, I erected a barrier before leaving her with Cirilla. Stop this stubbornness, Triss, before you injure yourself further." Rita whispered.

"Thank you, Rita." Triss answered, then took a sigh of relief. "We need to see this, maybe I can learn something and sever Rosi's connection to this place."

"Yenna is preparing for the ritual." Rita mumbled. "Necromancy, such rituals are..."

"It was necessary, and we will never speak of it after today." Triss muttered, as both sorceresses nodded.

Together, they observed carefully as the image of Yennefer and Geralt conversed about the ritual and garden. A shiver ran down the sorceresses' spines and chilled the blood in their very veins. It was the most unpleasant site, as they watched the horrid ritual performed. The body of the young warrior woke in agony, uttering incoherently as he was questioned. Despite the horror of what they were witnessing, Triss drew comfort in knowing Geralt had protested, warning Yennefer of the priestesses' reaction. The witcher spoke kindly to the boy, told him his honor had been regained, yet the sorceress knew he was still regarded as craven. She gazed at the priestess, whose eyes did not betray her distaste for the scene. Triss knew it was a risk that had to be done, she needed to witness it to understand how the site had been corrupted. She watched as Yennefer enchanted the corpse with forbidden magic, compelling the stranded soul to speak. Though they had learned a great deal about Cirilla, the suffering the boy endured and witnessing the ritual sickened her. Triss turned and quickly dispersed the image as Cirilla appeared in the garden, absent her sister. There was a loud hiss, a sudden change in the garden's magical energy just as she neared the sacred garden,and though Triss felt it, she could do nothing. A strange frightening sensation gripped her, the voice was unmistakable, and Ciri recognized it. She caught the fading glimpse of Skjall's corpse vanishing with the fog. Her eyes welled up, her mind raced in a futile tussle of conflicting thoughts, but she quickly calmed herself when her eyes met the enchantress' weary smile.

Cirilla hurried to her side and took the sorceress on her shoulders. She gazed at Triss, her eyes held a stillness, a dullness, like a knife in the ribs. "Don't look at me that way, Ciri, it hurts. I'd do anything for you and Rosi."

"I know and I am sorry, mother, but I am upset, angry, because you are always so willing to throw yourself in danger—all the time. You have nothing else to prove. What are we to do if something happens to you?!"

"Ciri, I'm not trying to prove anything. I was worried, so I acted..."

"You were the one who told me casting powerful, complicated spells could kill you, if not careful." Ciri continued, as Triss' arms tightened around her. "Why would you do something like this in your condition? You can barely move! The priestesses told me you spent the entire night awake caring for Rosi, you raised a barrier and only slept in the early morning. You should've came back to Kaer Trolde right away."

"I know, baby girl, but I didn't expect your sister to be affected by this place." Triss replied. "Geralt will, and should be, upset with me for this. I am uncertain how this will affect your sister. Ciri, how much did you see and hear?"

"Not much, I know that was Skjall...sounded as though he was in horrid pain. I only to got a glimpse of him before he whisked away." Ciri said, her face fell to her mother as they locked eyes. "Geralt upset at you? I'll believe it if I ever see it. Rosi is fine, I left her asleep with the priestesses. They've all taken to her. She's resting and you need to do the same, you truly look like hell."

"Hardly." Triss boasted, squeezing her eyes shut. "I feel fine...and I've looked worse."

"You're lying, mother." Ciri crooked. "If I let go, you'll collapse. You don't have to be strong, you know."

"I do, Ciri, for all of you." Triss whispered, as Cirilla eyed her. "Oh, alright! I feel a little faint, I can't move, and I am so exhausted."

"She knows you well, Triss." Rita muttered, narrowing her eyes, then turned, almost in a panic, as they sensed Rosi nearby. "Oh, shit."

"No! Why did you bring her here?!" Triss shouted, her voice cracked in a hoarse panic.

"Forgive me, but the lass woke wailing and shrieking when the ashened-hair there left the temple. I cannae get her to stop!" Josta replied, then pulled Rosina into her body, gripping tight as the garden suddenly erupted in a dazzling display of power.

Rosi's body curled, her arms and legs tucked, her fingers balled and stiffened, her eyes glowed yellow as she closed them. Josta knelt down and shielded Rosi's body with hers. Triss outstretched her hand but she hadn't the strength to move, both sorceresses could feel the pulse in the child's magic. It was warm, beautiful, and quickly overpowered the energy in the garden. In her weakened state, Triss noticed the tree had also reacted, though faintly, to Cirilla's arrival, but it was Rosi's presence that triggered a release of the mysterious magical energy buried deep within the sacred ground, the kind of magic she hadn't felt before. The garden was once saturated with magical energy, and although it had been debased, Rosina's proximity to the sacred tree had awoken the faint traces of uncorrupted magic, drawing it to the surface. There was a visible ripple of the air around them, a pulsing, as if the garden and tree had a heartbeat. Triss shifted her body and staggered forward. Cirilla grabbed onto the sorceress' waist, holding her steady as she pulled with a strength she should not possess.

"Get your sister, Ciri." Triss commanded, then moved her hands, readying herself. With great exertion, a loud croaky spell escaped the enchantress' lips. She would protect her child, even if it meant death.

"Got it." Cirilla gazed at her, worried, then answered without protest. She rushed forward and took Rosi's from Sister Josta's arms, then forced a smile to reassure the priestess, who had a look of concern in her eyes as Ciri give orders. "Go to the others."

I could die if I do this, but I have to try. Rosi's magic is so overwhelming. Amazing...No time to feel proud now, Triss, your daughter is in danger. Triss thought to herself, as she watched Cirilla move back towards her with Rosina in her arms. She felt her body drain, droplets of cold sweat ran down her neck and face. The brilliant hues of the garden faded to a dull white, she was fainting, but the sorceress refused to fade as her voice cracked in thunderous echo. "No! I won't, I can't."

"What is wrong with her?!" Cirilla shouted.

"She's used too many spells in succession." Rita answered, as Ciri placed Rosi in her arms and quickly took Triss into her arms as the sorceress collapsed.

"Triss? Triss?! Hey, don't do that!" Ciri shook the enchantress violently, as panic set in her voice.

"I'm alright. You are squeezing too hard, Ciri. You're very strong, you know?" Triss whispered. "Rosi...how is your sister?"

"Rita's got her." Ciri replied, raising her head to gaze at Rosina. "She's asleep."

The enchantress lay on the ground, her body propped against Cirilla's chest, as the witcheress squeezed her tightly, resting her back against the cold stone. Triss could feel her own magic slowly coursing through her body. Whatever had happened, it was over as quickly as it began. She pushed her body up, trying to stand, she felt a sudden rejuvenation of her energy. A soft brilliant shimmer of magic shuddered across the garden. She could no longer feel the corruption that lingered there before.

"Wait, something is happening..." Rita whispered. "Look."

"I can't move, Rita..." Triss hissed, "My entire body feels wasted...can you bring her here."

"Of course." Rita replied, she was angry at Triss but the sorceress wouldn't voice it loudly. She placed Rosi in her mother's tired arms, then sat on the ground just beside them.

"What happened?" Ciri asked.

Triss lifted her eyes and brushed strands of ashen hair from Ciri's face. "Don't look so sad."

"You could've killed yourself!" Ciri whispered in a shaky voice. "Whatever possessed you to attempt such a spell, especially in your state? And after you conjured such a complicated spell to call the images of this place?"

"I'm alive, aren't I?" Triss answered, leaning weakly on Cirilla's body.

"Yes, you are, but it could've easily ended badly. Triss, you are not alone, your girls need you. Geralt needs you." Rita scolded, then sighed. "And Kovir needs you."

I know. Triss thought, running her finger across Rosi's eyebrow, gently caressing, and causing Rosina to twisted her body snuggly in her mother's arms. She gave the slightest, warmest, smile, sweet like summer berries. Rosi's and Ciri's presence, filled the sorceress with a warmth she'd never felt, say near them.

"Wait, this place answered to your magic at first, then again when Ciri appeared. It was brief, but I felt it. Just now, when the priestess brought Rosina here, everything suddenly went awry."

"I need to examine her." Triss replied.

"She's suffered no side effects from that—" Rita paused, then pondered for a moment. "—whatever that was. I've already examined the little darling and she's unscathed, but you'll need to rest and recover at the temple."

"Triss?"

"Yes, love?" Triss whispered, lifting her gaze to Cirilla.

"When you've rested a bit, I'd like you to accompany me somewhere. Will you?" Ciri mumbled, putting her chin in the sorceress' shoulder as Triss held her hand across her daughter's neck.

"You want me to visit Skjall's gravesite with you?"

"Mmhmm."

"I'd love to. It'd be my honor to visit his grave with you." Triss replied, just as Margarita reached forward and took Rosi from the sorceress' arms.

Cirilla kissed the sorceress on the cheek, then helped her to her feet. They shared a brief embrace and parted, just as Alina and two other priestesses arrived at the garden. Alina stood, her shoulders hunched, then quickly made her way to Triss' side. The enchantress asked Cirilla to accompany Margarita so she could speak with Ermion and the priestesses, but she protested and agreed to leave only if she would allowed Alina to remain. Margarita Laux-Antille opened a portal, then called Cirilla to her side. They both entered and returned to the temple, with Rosi snugged in her arms leaving Triss to speak to the priestess. With no small effort, the sorceress would get the woman to admit that Skjall was no craven and that the boy did not flee from battle. They had all heard and witnessed his feats as he aided Cirilla and led the Wild Hunt from Lofeton.

"We'll speak to the Jarl of Clan Heymaey of Hindarsfjall. Ah cannae promise, but we'll try to restore Skjall's honor." The high priestess Modron Sigrdrifa said. "The druid will speak on that lads behalf."

"Aye." Ermion said. "Now, tis about yer bairn. When ye return to Kovir, ye should visit the druid's circle there. There a sorceress there, she's a druid too. She can help ye."

"Thank you, I'll visit, if the need arises."

"When ye go, she'll know ye're coming."

"What is her name." Triss asked. She could've read the man's thoughts, but it'd be impolite.

"Just call her sorceress." Ermion answered. He gazed at the enchantress. "Dinnae try yer fancy mind trick on me."

"Hmm. You haven't given me a reason to be distrusting." Triss replied.

The druid spoke at length about his interest in Rosina's abilities then told her more of a druid, healer and a sorceress from the circle near Mayena, a fortress south of Maribor in Temeria, who now belonged to the circle of Kovir. Though Ermion refused to give her name, Triss agreed to meet the mysterious druid upon her return to Kovir.

As Ermion departed, from the garden's entrance, Lina paused, "Forgive me, m'lady, I was asleep and did not see the priestess take the little one."

"It's alright, Lina." Triss replied, the climbed down the stairs with the young woman at her side. "You've been so helpful and I couldn't ask for more. I'll need your help in the coming days. We'll be returning soon, and I am certain you want to return to court."

"No, m'lady. The Royal Court has its appeal, but I can truly say this journey has been a pleasure." Lina replied, her eyes fixed on the sorceress as they walked towards the temple. "I wish...if it's no trouble, I'd like to…"

"You are always welcome, Lina, don't be a stranger. My home in Pont Vanis is always open to guests." Triss replied.

"Truly?" Lina asked, her soft eyes sparked to life.

"Mmhmm, Rosi's grown fond of you and she'll be heartbroken if you don't visit." Triss answered, then paused for a moment to glance at the life and nature around her.

"Then I shall visit the little one, whenever I can leave the court." Lina whispered, her mouth curved in a beautiful smile.

***][***

It was mid morning when the sorceress and Alina returned to Freya's temple. Einar and his men were gathered just outside, resting. As she approached, Triss could hear the men speaking about what they had witnessed in the garden. Her eyes followed Einar as he straightened his body and moved towards her and Alina. He bowed, arms across his heart, a salute and gesture reserved for commanders and members of the Royal Guard, yet he rendered it to the sorceress. Einar had almost forgotten her fierceness, but he was privy once again as he witnessed what had happened in the sacred garden. Triss had expected the man to launch a flurry of protest for leaving without the protection of his guards, but Einar calmly requested she grant him permission to return the bulk of his men to Kaer Trolde. He'd leave two of his finest to accompany the sorceress, as protocol dictated, and the enchantress accepted under the condition that the guards escort her child. Triss was welcomed in the temple by the priestesses standing in the prayer chamber. Cirilla, Margarita and Rosina were deep inside beneath the temple and Sister Josta quickly led the sorceress and Alina through the large wooden doors to the inner sanctuary where she could rest. The priestess was quiet as they they strolled through the dim candlelit chambers. More vocal than her sisters, Josta wasn't afraid to voice her thoughts, yet she'd hadn't spoken a word since Triss and Alina returned. Her confident expression had hardened, her eyes had lost their spark that Triss admired, though she'd never say it aloud, lest the woman's ego swell.

"Where is that courage and determination, priestess?" Triss prodded, scrutinizing Josta's behavior.

"I'm sorry, m'lady, ah didn't mean to put yer bairn in harm's way. Ah was wrong about ye."

"That's enough! You've called my baby a monster, but you're scared, I know fear when I see it. I've felt it too. People destroy what they fear, Josta, but admitting you're wrong is never a sign of weakness." Triss said, her brows drew together.

"Ah never wanted to harm the lass, you have to believe me. It's not easy to see her cry like that, ye know?"

"If I thought, even in the slightest, you intended or had knowingly endangered my child, I'd have dealt with you swiftly. The truth is, if you hadn't brought Rosi to that garden, I'd still be trying to sever her link to that place." Triss whispered. I don't feel that horrible magic anymore, whatever happened seemed to have cleansed the place. "You will not say anything to anyone about what happened in the garden today, I don't want people thinking Rosi is some healer."

"Whaddya mean?" Josta walked over to Rita and made a mark on Rosi's forehead, it was crude but clearly a creature of some sort.

"What is that?" Triss whispered, as the woman made her way back.

"A dragonfly, what do ye think it is?"

Triss' lips curled in a soft smile as Rita brushed Rosi's face, "Dragonflies, they represent transformation, adaptability, joy and lightness of one's being., but they are so delicate..."

Josta laughed, then placed her hands on her hips, "Aye, ye know yer stuff, but the creature don't tell ye how yer bairn will behave. Dragonflies also symbolize her perception to see deceit and illusions, she's connected to the spirits of nature. On Hindarsfjall, she'll be remembered as Rosina, the daughter of the White Wolf and Red Fox."

"A dragonfly, huh?" Triss chuckled, "Geralt would choose something more dangerous, but a dragonfly it is."

"Eh, she's his bairn and Geralt can do whatever he wants. Yers will master the elements, with her da's strength and yer courage. She'll be balanced, and swift with her magic, ye know?" Josta answered. "Yer bairn is not ordinary."

"Swift but cautious, priestess. Right now, she's my little wolf cub." Triss smiled, then closed her eyes and sighed, "Please, don't tell me you've suddenly taken a liking to my baby."

"Aye."

"Hmm, hours ago you thought we should be expelled from the temple, even went so far to call her a monster, now Rosi is 'not ordinary'?"

"Ah was wrong. I'm not too proud to say it." Josta replied. "Her da is Geralt, slayer of Morkvarg, and ye are her ma. Ah can't promise ye ah won't speak of her."

"You and your sisters need to protect my child. People talk and talking brings unwanted attention." Triss whispered.

"Everyone knows ye're Geralt's woman. Ye can't hide it anymore, but ye'll have nothing to fear here, Triss Merigold. Skellige will always welcome ye. Ah dinnae know if the sacred garden will ever grow again, but ye showed respect for our ways. If ye and yers ever need shelter, ye're welcome here. Wherever ye go, ye'll have friends here."

Friends and fortunes, I'm glad that over. Triss thought, then gazed at Sister Josta. "Thank you."

Cirilla, listening to the conversation, did not say a word. She came to the sorceress' side as Alina helped Triss lay down to rest. "What happened in that garden today?"

"Rosi's magic is powerful, she could surpass me, Yennefer, most, if not all, of the sorceresses alive someday. You, on the other hand, can never be surpassed, love, you have elder blood coursing through your veins." Triss mumbled.

"I don't care about that! Will she be ok?" Ciri answered.

"Yes, she has us and you know the answer to that question, more so than me." Triss said, her speech slurred from exhaustion. "There is so much I want to do with you when we return to Pont Vanis, a hunt, our little trip...just the two of us."

"When ye wake ye can jabber about it." High priestess Sigrdrifa mumbled, then coaxed Ciri away. "This one needs to rest."

The enchantress knew they'd be leaving the temple, but she needed to rest before returning to Kaer Trolde. She'd promised Ciri they'd visit Skjall's gravesite, but the day was still young. Triss watched Rosi, Rita and Alina from her resting place nearby. Her baby hadn't been fed, but, as she closed her eyes, she knew from the way Rita held her that Rosi had fallen asleep. Her thoughts were of Geralt, and she wished her witcher's thoughts were of her at that very moment. The enchantress could always find a moment, any moment, to make him a part of her thoughts, even now, fading into her dream, she could almost feel him. The soporific feel of his breath on her neck as he cuddled her to sleep, the way Geralt's voice always broke just before he slept, the rise and fall of his chest and slow noise of her own breathing. What had she done to deserve such love from the witcher? Her half conscious mind tried to recall, as the lure of sleepiness flooded her body. The enchantress felt her heart slowed, each beat familiar, peaceful. The comforts of her bed called to her and though the place she now rested was nothing like it, the moment was absent only Geralt to make it perfect. Drifting deeper into sleep, her body felt heavy, relaxed, she had wandered into another dream of her home and her man.

Sometime later, the enchantress rose from her slumber in a daze. There was a certain warmth about the place, as her dream ended abruptly. Her disheveled auburn hair lay scattered across the small bed covered with thick furry hides where she slept. The sorceress had awoken to reality, her eyes opened, eyelashes batting, as they adjusted to the light from lit torches. She could lay there forever, as her body ached, muscles feeling taut and weak, like her energy had been drained. Triss frowned as she arched her body and stretched, waking was no longer as pleasurable as she'd remembered, it was harsh, her dream was much better than reality. She was in Pont Vanis surrounded by Cirilla, Rosina and Geralt. She pulled her hair away from her face, then felt hands on her side, nothing familiar, nothing warm, just harsh hands. As she turned, Triss gazed at the old woman sitting before her. Her piercing eyes peered into the sorceress'. Despite her aged appearance and hard unfeminine face, she was strong, her tongue sharp like her mind, yet behind that facade of wrinkles, on her face was a gentleness. There was a dimming in the light as someone crossed between the candles, it was Sister Kurisu coming to her bedside.

"Ye're awake, sorceress. Did ye recover yer strength?" Sister Kurisu whispered. She was a young woman, much younger than Josta, and just as beautiful and feminine with a soft eyes.

"Yes, thank you. How long was I asleep? What time is it?" Triss asked, then sat upright.

"It's almost midday. Ye've been sleeping and dreaming. Ye kept on saying 'Geralt...Geralt...oh Geralt', when Sigrdrifa woke ye." Sister Kurisu said, handing the sorceress a steaming sweet-smelling drink. "Drink this and ye'll feel better. Did ye have bad dream?"

"No, not really." Triss said as she drank from the mug. My dream was actually very pleasant. I don't feel that foul magic anymore. "Where are Cirilla and Rosina, where are my girls?!"

"Calm yerself, sorceress, before ye wake yer child! The lass been sleeping since ye knocked down yerself, and Ciri and the others are outside, waiting for ye to wake." High priestess Sigrdrifa crooked, "Ye were dreaming again. Yer dreams were pleasant, and ye can't feel the pain that plagues the garden, am I right?"

This woman is perceptive, she senses my thoughts. Just as I hunched, she's no ordinary priestess. Triss thought, then smiled. "Yes, plesant dreams, I hope I wasn't vulgar."

"Nay. Ye weren't." Priestess Sigrdrifa said, then stood up as Triss rose to her feet. "I've learned much from ye."

"As have I from you, priestess." Triss replied. "I appreciate what you did for my child, I'll tell Geralt. Importantly, I hope this mutual trust will last."

Sigrdrifa walked toward the wall took a small bowl filled with water and returned to her seat. "We don't let no one in the temple…"

"Yes, because of the jewel brisingamen, I know, and yet you brought me down here."

"Aye, the girl needed to rest and I didnae think ye came here fer brisingamen." Sigrdrifa answered.

"No, I didn't."

"Sorceress, ye search for Geralt in yer dreams. Ye've always done so whenever he's away from ye. Yer witcher brings ye comfort and ye given him something he's never known. Yer mind is muddled with war, Redania and the Black Ones, but ye're strong, stronger than ye think. Yer bairn has her father's strength and her mother's heart, don't ye forget it."

My mind is in turmoil and she can knows it. Who is this woman? "Thank you, for everything." Triss said softly

"Yer child will be waking soon. Will ye be going back to Kaer Trolde? Cerys is planning a feast in yer honor tomorrow, they say."

"Yes, I have things to do with Ciri today, but we'll be returning at nightfall."

Triss turned just as priestess Kurisu took Rosi and held her. She raised her hands, but the priestess stood gently, rocking Rosina in her arms then tickled the child to draw a smile. The sorceress gazed at Sigrdrifa, then at sister Kurisu. Rosi curled her arms and legs, twisting her body to search for her mother when she heard her voice. Although she'd described Rosina as frenetic, though not a troubling child, her cries were often so piercing that Geralt would wake long before she even started to cry and nuzzle her in his arms. Rosi would always calm instantly to her father's presence and body contact, but the witcher was in Pont Vanis. She was no stranger to rough-housing, Geralt would tickle and roughly handle his child by lifting her into the air as she kicked her feet, bouncing. Triss, always more delicate, would watch with a heavy heart though, she'd nervously participate in her witcher's play with their little girl. Her moments with Rosi were often more intimate, careful and tender. She took pleasure in watching both Ciri and Geralt play with Rosina. They lay on the floor in the parlor or study, excited as Rosi made the simplest of gestures, then she'd soothe her baby with soft lullabies during each feeding. Cirilla accepted and quickly warmed to her role as big sister and she was even more aggressive in their play, but Rosina loved every moment of it, though the enchantress noticed her child had grown rougher herself with each passing day. Triss was often the willing victim of Cirilla's teaching. Rosina would pinch harshly, though playfully, as she was cradled, each time laughing at her own mischief. Her mother and father's locks were often her toy of choice, she twirled her little fingers through them until she fell asleep in their arms. Ciri would tell her stories and capture Rosi's attention, as though she understood her sister's wild tales. As she observed the priestess Kurisu holding Rosi to herself, Triss fought the urge to demand her daughter.

Priestess Sigrdrifa gazed at the sorceress' reaction and anxiousness to hold her child, then peered at the young priestess. "Kurisu, give the girl back, she's needs her ma, not yer hands."

Triss quickly lept to her feet, took Rosi and sat back down. She gently opened her gown, absent any regard for the priestesses' presence, and Rosi eagerly found her mother's breast, latching on. Triss winced, her face creased as she bit her bottom lip, then whispered. "Ah...ah...ah! Rosi, that's painful!"

Sister Kurisu laughed, as priestess Sigrdrifa watched the sorceress' closeness with her baby. "Yer bairn is hungry."

"Mmhmm." Triss mumbled, gazing down into Rosi's eyes as her tiny hands rested against the sorceress' chest. The baby's hair was a silky auburn, like her mother's, yet with each passing day more strands of her curls faded to a silver white, like Geralt's.

"She has her father's witcher eyes, and yers too." Sigrdrifa mumbled.

"It changes when she's upset or frightened." Triss replied, raising her eyes, her chortle caused Rosi to open hers, "She has parts of Geralt's witcher mutations, the eyes, her hair, and that strength. I don't know what other mutations or genes she's inherited from him, but I'm sure things will be revealed as she grows. I'd be lying if I said I'm not concerned about her fertility. I can't be certain about anything, because she's too young for any kind of extensive analysis."

"Stop yer worries, woman, she'll be fine. Yer bairn is strong and her sensitivity to magic is unnatural." High priestess Sigrdrifa whispered, then went to her knees and placed her hands on Rosi's belly. "Ye'll have yer hands full with this one."

"Worry is all I can do when it comes to my girls and Geralt. As for Rosi being trouble, of that I am certain." Triss replied, a soft smile graced hers and Sigrdrifa's faces. You hear that, Rosi? She thinks you'll be trouble.

When Triss finished suckling her child, Sigrdrifa stared as the sorceress lifted Rosina across her shoulder until she burped, then carried her in her arms. Triss was led by Sigrdrifa as she and Rosina made their way out of the inner sanctuary of the temple through the large wooden doors. Just outside the doors near the statue, Cirilla sat on the stairs as Alina and Rita conversed with the witcher. As Triss walked out, Ciri stood, swords on her back, and the sorceress paused for a moment because she looked so much like Geralt. Triss handed Rosi to Margarita and asked the sorceress to remain at the temple with the child and Alina. Rita learned that Cirilla and Triss would be spending the day together, and they were to meet again in a few hours before returning back to Kaer Trolde. Triss opened a portal just up the stairs, then she and Cirilla disappeared through it without sharing their destination. A few moment later, they emerged just outside the town of Lofeton, but Cirilla could not bring herself to visit the village, so they strolled along the road to the secluded corner of the cliff where the young witcher had picked for Skjall's grave. There was nothing special about this place, say the young man laid there. Villagers had kept up the grave-site with candles, but there was no great headstone to honor his name or lineage. Skjall's grave was a simple pile of small stone perched on a cliff side, surrounded by grass and resting at the end of a small footpath. Both women sat on the dusty ground next to the pile of stones, feet hanging off the cliff side as they conversed and laughed about their time together. Cirilla told the sorceress stories about people she'd met during her journey, some good, some bad, but Skjall was among the few who'd helped her. She voiced her feelings about her perceived failing in proving his innocence and restoring his honor and Triss took the time to listen quietly. With comforting nudges, their fingers laced, mother and daughter shared moments about their lives and relationships. When they were ready to leave, Triss conjured a bouquet of flowers and placed them on Skjall's grave. Though her words were mere whispers, Ciri could hear her thanks to the boy for what he'd done.

Triss strolled along the narrow path, leaving Ciri alone at the gravesite to say a few words as she waited. She paused at the road until the witcher had finished, then together they sauntered aimlessly along the isle's coast, conversing about the simple and trivial things. Taking pleasure in the softness of the breeze as Triss spoke. "So, where do you want to go next?"

"Swimming." Ciri said, in excitement.

"Swimming it is. Have anywhere particular in mind?"

Cirilla smiled, then pointed. "I know this place, a short distance from here. We can go dipping in the ocean and relax."

"I'll tell Rita to bring Rosi and Alina to meet us there." Triss said, then sent a simple message to the sorceress Margarita, asking her to join them on the beach, beside the old hut, just south of the village of Lofeton before nightfall.

"Rita won't be swimming, you know that."

"Perhaps. Rita does have a beautiful body, but she is very private..." Triss replied. "...I, on the other hand, intend to take a dip, but only after I've soaked in all of this sun. I've been hiding below ground in the temple too long." Triss chortled, then paused, looking at the gulls flying nearby.

"Alright then, come on." Ciri laughed, then took a few steps forward before pausing. "Triss?"

"Yes?"

"What's bothering you?"

"Why do you think something's bothering me, Ciri?"

"Eh." Cirilla sighed, then shook her head. "Our feelings are deep, but we show them for all to see. You and I, we're like an open book. I know when Geralt has done something stupid to annoy you, though you find everything he does amorous. I can feel it when you are happy, sad or worried, and..."

"And now?"

"Right now, you have a worried but confident look in your eyes. I know, because I've seen it so many times. When I was young you had the very same look, worried, but confident I'd be alright. Kaer Morhen was the most memorable, when you gazed at me on the wall as we fought together against the Hunt."

"Ciri, Rosina doesn't see the world through my eyes, and that is good." Triss mumbled, her stride slowed as she spoke. "Right now, as we speak, there are three sorceresses trying to make their way to Kovir, to safety. Philippa, even with all her plots and schemes, is on the run, hiding, and I fear for her. I see a world of uncertainty and danger."

"What do you mean?"

"When Rosi looks at us, all she sees is love, in your eyes, her father's, in mine...she doesn't know the dangers, the fear and hatred...for sorceresses, non-humans and witchers...but I do." Triss said, pausing to pick a wildflower. She sniffed it, then handed the flower to Cirilla and continued her slow long strides. "Like that flower, it's unaware the others just across this bridge are trampled."

"The world will always be a dangerous place for people like us, but witchers and sorceresses will always be needed. Do you know what makes it better? Having friends and family who'd come to your aid, risk their lives when you are in danger." Ciri replied as they walked across the small wooden bridge.

"Rosi has so many traits from me and her father, but all of them will put her at odds with the world. I fear her eyes, her abilities, will make people shun her." Triss mumbled, "What I feel right now is a raging storm I can't control. I lose myself in anger and rage, ready to lash out at the world when you or Rosi are in danger."

"It's called love, you know. When the people we love are in danger, we act without thought."

"I know I can be stifling, Ciri, but…"

"Tripe! I like being near. I like it there, in Pont Vanis, Toussaint, and Kaer Morhen. I like being on the path as well, on quiet nights, hot days, I can go and come as I choose. I don't want to be in Geralt's shadow, but I don't want to be too far from it." Ciri replied, as she wrapped her arm around Triss from behind.

"You know, you'll will never be in your father's shadow. He so proud of you, all the time." Triss whispered, "What is it, Ciri?"

"Just let me hold you a bit."

"Come here." Triss said, putting her arm around her daughter and pulling her close. "I've lived an interesting life, baby girl. The moment I met Geralt my world was filled with so many possibilities. I won't lie, I'd dream of them, but always told myself it'd never happen. So many things we promised each other. Now that we are together, things keep happening, to stay my hope and dreams for us?"

"He has you, and that is enough, just be there for him."

"I will." Triss spoke softly, yet her smiled never faded from her face. "I told myself I'd never ask you this, but after today, I'm asking."

"Ask me what?"

"About our future. Geralt and I, what have you seen?" Triss whispered.

Cirilla frowned, her face and eyes held a familiar stare. "Triss, I haven't seen much and I don't dare. The future is never certain, but I know you'll be happy. You need to stay true to each other, that much is certain now."

"Will Rosi be ok? Will she…"

"I know you and Geralt will raise her well and no matter what struggles you face, and you will face struggles, Triss, but you'll always find each other and I'll will always be close."

"Which of us is the mother again?" Triss asked playfully.

"It's not me." Ciri laughed, then nudged the sorceress softly. "That'd be you."

Their walk to the beach was calm and quiet, a cool ocean breeze blew across the sides of their faces. One could only guess what swirled through their minds as they smiled, each lost in their own reverie. Cirilla's strides were longer and the sorceress' short but fluid. Both were thinking about someone, though Cirilla remained eager to spend the evening with Triss while struggling to stave off her yearning for her Cerys. When they arrived at the chosen spot, the beach was nothing like Triss had imagined. The serene green waters reflected the sunlight like shards of crystal. The first few feet of the shoreline was clear as glass, they could see the bottom and admire the scores of colors below. Scarce green patches of ocean weeds dotted the scene beneath the waves. The soft blue-green of the rolling waters above caught their eyes as they removed their boots and slippers. Triss felt the coolness of the soft wet ground beneath her feet. They gazed down as the brown sands mixed with small smooth rocks where the water met land. Soft waves rippled forward, flowing around their feet. They were neither the gentle still kind, that softly rolls across your skin with foaming suds like a bath, nor were they the rough churning waves that stir the sands or smash against the rock. The cool sea breeze blew across Cirilla's hair as she quickly undid it and began unbuckling her chestplate. She laid her armor and swords down on a dry patch of ground, beside Triss, then ran for the water as the sorceress watched. Cirilla felt the rocks and sands shift beneath her feet with each step, until she jumped into the water, splashing as she vanished beneath the waves.

Triss removed her gown, carefully unfurling it across the ground, then she lay on her back in her undergarments, bestowing her gaze on the horizon. The glowing hues of the sunlight blended the ocean and skies like a single endless tapestry. The ocean stretched as far as the eye could see in a beautiful blue and turquoise, as the sorceress closed her eyes, soaking in the afternoon sun. She lay down tiredly rubbing her eyes, then raked her fingers through her tossed hair, pulling it back against her gown. It wasn't long until the enchantress twisted her head and faded into a light nap. The cool air against her skin bled into her dream, the sun hugging her body like her witcher's warmth, but she couldn't have napped for more than a few minutes when she heard Cirilla's voice. A long exhale signaled her mind, it was the telltale sign that she wasn't quite awake, yet not fully asleep. There were fragments of her short but pleasant dream, whirling into nonsensical thoughts, as she tried to understand why he'd vanished. Her fingers felt numb, as if his presence and touch were real, but before her dream could reassert itself, she felt hands, wet hands. The sudden shadow blocking her sunlight forced the sorceress to opened her eyes. Kneeling just beside her, with a smile on her face, as water rolled off her skin, was Cirilla, who took Triss by her arms, inviting her for a late afternoon swim in the cool waters of Hindersfjal. Together, mother and daughter walked towards the sea, then dived beneath the soft waves paddling out towards the open ocean.

The feeling of the water against their bodies was refreshing, and for a moment both Triss and Cirilla allowed their worries to fade beneath the waves, as they swam until the their feet no longer touched the ground. They could've swam further, but the waters dulled and faded into the murky gray. Hours passed quickly as they raced to and from the shore to the open sea. It had been some time since Triss had swam so vigorously for such a distance, but Cirilla struggled to keep pace, always a few feet behind the sorceress. Both swam to near exhaustion, then Ciri took the lead as they returned to the seashore. Cirilla dipped below the water, she could see the bottom, small pearl oysters littered the sea floor, and just above, Triss serenely floated with the waves moving closer towards the shoreline. Ciri swam beneath the sorceress and pulled her below the water, startling her, then she burst into snorting as Triss gasped, swam for the surface, then playfully splashed Ciri's face. Feigning ire, Triss swam back towards the shore, then chuckled as Cirilla grabbed and hugged her. They fell to the ground, laughing till their ribs hurt, then Ciri dove back into the water as Triss walked to her gown, wringing her tangled hair to squeeze out the salted water. Cirilla heard the wind carrying the sorceress' voice and sweet taunts as she called to her. She stood in waist-deep water, face in the wind, soaking in the sounds of gulls overhead, the hissing of the breeze, then she turned and hurriedly made her way to Triss' side. The soft sky and scant clouds above were caressed by the fading light of the evening sun. Stones and sand beneath their feet, they sat side by side on the sorceress' gown as the breeze whisked their tension and stress from their very bones. Triss sat upright, stretching her feet and body, as seagulls hovered just overhead, almost frozen, conquering the dim evening sky above them.

Ciri rolled on her stomach, resting her head in her arms as she raised her feet, bending at the knees. She gazed at Triss, "That was refreshing, wasn't it?."

"Yes, it was." Triss replied, quietly running her fingers through her hair, pulling it across her shoulder.

Cirilla sat upright, then folded her legs to the side, as she leaned her body on the sorceress', and whispered, "Triss?"

"Yes, Ciri, what is it? Out with it."

"How do you know if the person you've fallen in love with is the one for you? Like you and Geralt, how did you know you could love no one else, the way you love him?"

"You've found someone to give your heart to. It's new, scary, but if that person loves you right away, you are already ahead. I've seen how you look at Cerys, and the way she looks at you." Triss whispered, "You'll face many challenges, Ciri, but your love can and will endure if you are willing to fight for it. Fight, because her mere company is enough to stirs pleasures you've never experienced, her voice soothes your pain and her touch makes you soar."

"Describe my feelings exactly, how could you know that?"

"Geralt makes me feel that way. I could never love another the way I love him, even if he shunned and hurt me, I'd continue to love him. I gave him my heart, thought his wasn't mine, back then. I wanted to fight for his love, but how could I?" Triss said, a wild grin hugged her face. "That necklace I gave you."

Ciri look down at her neck, the pushed aside her witcher's medallion."Why did you choose these words?"

"To remind you to smile even in your darkest times. Despite past hurts, be fair to whomever you love. Adore them with everything you have, but never tolerate ill treatment...And it lets you know that I love you from the deepest depths of my heart."

"I don't think Cerys would ever hurt me."

"Neither do I. If she did, I'd be there to set her straight."

Ciri smiled, "Mother?"

"Yes?"

"Be honest, I want your approval, I know you said I don't need it, but I do. What do you think about Cerys? I am…"

"Are you in love with her?"

"I think...no, I feel...she's...I am, but she is Queen, Triss. I don't want her to lose sight of her people because of me..."

"You are both smart young women, you'll find the answers, Ciri. Make it work, because you love her. I told you before, Cerys is a beautiful young woman, headstrong, she'll be a match for you." Triss laugh, holding onto Cirilla's arms. "You don't need our approval, and you don't need to seek mine, because you already have it. I believe in you and nothing you do will ever change that."

"What is Geralt going to say?" Ciri whispered, then released the sorceress from her grasp.

"He'll support you, and if he doesn't Geralt will answer to me or he'll sleep alone." Triss replied, then nodded. "So, tell me something you like about her."

"She makes me smile. When she's near, I'm relaxed...and excited, at the same time, I can't explain it..." Ciri whispered, biting her lips. "I love her soft dark lips, and when Cerys speaks...she has this lilt, you know? It's feels like she's singing to me. It sets my heart afire, Triss and her kisses feels like they are mine alone. She gives me butterflies all over, then I am weak in my knees when she holds me. It's silly, I know..."

"No, it's not, Ciri. You are in love. You lose yourself, wanting to be with that person every waking moment." Triss replied, as Rita, Alina and Rosi emerged from a portal and their guards exited a second behind them. "They're here, we have to return before it gets too dark. We will talk more later, alright?"

"Okay."

***][***

Kaer Trolde Bridge...

The sorceresses returned to Kaer Trolde, their portals opened just inside the tunnel that led to the large stone bridge leading into the keep. The old walls were a welcome sight, far from unfamiliar magic, sacred groves and gardens. Cirilla carried Rosi in her arms as they walked across the stone bridge, Koviri royal guards manned their posts, as others sat relaxed on the parapet, conversing with An Craite warriors. The walls of Kaer Trolde appeared as silver under the moonlight as Triss gazed at Rosina who rested quietly, her eyes peering back like two stars in the night. She smiled and laughed, her soft sound echoed like a sprung leak, low at first, until she began to coo. Margarita took the child from Cirilla's arms as she and Alina walked just ahead. The enchantress, a deeply private woman who guarded her personal affairs like all her sisters, had exhibited an unusual behavior as the days passed. Though Rita wouldn't admit it aloud, Triss knew she longed for her witcher. Rita had rarely spoken about Eskel since they left Kovir, but in her quiet moments, when she'd sit alone, her thoughts would drift afar. The enchantress hasty retreats to her bedchambers were something Triss would also do whenever Geralt was away on one of his may long hunts. She remembered the feeling as she waited in Kovir, attending meetings, reading dull scrolls on tariffs and storage regulations, while Geralt tended his work in Toussaint. Her desire to be near him had grown so overwhelming she traveled south to Toussaint to retrieve him. She'd laugh at her sister's sudden struggle to cope with what she felt, but she knew the feeling of longing. Rita had never felt such loneliness, yet since their last encounter, Eskel could not escape the sorceress' thoughts. She was lovesick, and hoped Rosina's presence would bring her some comfort, a way to take her mind off the witcher.

"So, Rita, when will Eskel return?" Triss asked.

"He didn't say and I didn't nother to ask. I don't know, I'd hope it will be sooner rather than later, but that witcher enjoys tormenting me so." Rita whispered. "I will not give that man the satisfaction of seeing me this way. He insists on leaving so quickly, as though he only desires me in bed...that scoundrel!"

"Rita?" Triss chuckled, her eyebrows raised, she could say nothing of relevance as Cirilla gazed at her.

"Why don't you send Eskel a message, Rita?" Ciri asked, she had been listening to the sorceresses' conversation. "He'd fall flat on his face, then rush to Pont Vanis."

"I did, Cirilla, he intends to visit me at my home in Pont Vanis when we return to Kovir." Rita answered, her voice soft. She handed Rosi to Cirilla, then kissed the child's forehead. "Excuse me, darlings, I am exhausted."

Triss gave a long fixed stare at Ciri. She scrutinized her subtle anxious twists, letting her eyes roam Cirilla and Rita's every gesture. The ache and longing Rita felt was familiar to her. She'd felt that yearning too many times, that force that drew her to Geralt. She knew that tearing of the heart would soon be felt by her daughter as well. Cirilla's sudden amorous relationship with Cerys was new, their love young, so untested they had yet to feel the pain that comes when the one you love is suddenly so far away. Triss doted on the changes she'd noticed in Ciri, the way she smiled, the happiness that Cerys offered. She was worried, yet the sorceress cheered her daughter's new found love silently.

I fear, soon enough, none of us will be able to afford the luxury of such sweet moments. She smiled.

Just inside the keep were more warriors lining the walls relaxingly, standing guard. They stood as the sorceresses walked by, and An Craite warriors even mumbled praise, but they were all too exhausted from the day's event to notice the changed atmosphere. There were two familiar faces high on the stairs, Sisters Josta and Kurisu. Word had spread quickly of the sorceress' actions in Freya's garden, and though no one knew if the garden would ever regain its former radiance, the guard's sudden fondness and respect hinted what she'd feared. Josta and her sisters had told others about what transpired in the garden earlier that morning, and soon they were all interested in Rosina.

Triss dismissed the two guards escorting Rosina, then called to the sergeant of the guards. "Where is Einar? I told him to dismiss his men, there's no reason to have so many guards"

"M'lady, Captain Einar has sail aboard the Dame-de-Grace with Captain Czcibor. He intends to sail around the Isles and return before evening on the morrow." The sergeant answered.

"Why?"

"To ready the ships for our departure to Kovir, m'lady. He ordered the caravels, Tynwald, Curieux, Newbark, and Leverton sail as escorts. The Neza and Dainty remain in port, they've just returned from patrols."

Triss chuckled, Einar had sailed the ships around the isles under the ruse of preparation for their return voyage. She quickly deduced the men marooned on the escort vessels had grown bored, and the captain had ordered each ship to set sail, hoping the test would lift their spirits for the long journey home. Triss was tired, exhausted from her experience in the garden, but the sorceress relished the chance to bond with Cirilla. The time they'd spent at Skjall's gravesite was cherished, rare, but their cool swim in the ocean was a welcome moment that made her long for the jaunt Ciri had proposed. The cottage in the mountains of Kovir, or even sleep beneath the stars, hunting for their evening meal to roasted as they warm their boots by the fireplace. For a moment, her mind ran wild with thoughts of experiencing more of said moments with Cirilla, but she was suddenly brought back to reality. They made their way to the bedroom and Triss placed Rosi on the tanned hide. She quickly ran a bath for Cirilla, then added a few drops of scented soothing oil to the hot water. Ciri was quick to shed her armor, she tossed her blades and sword on the floor, expecting a tongue-lashing from the sorceress that never manifested. Triss calmly took Cirilla's swords and placed them against the wall, then tidied the area neatly, staging the witcher's armor near their bed. She sensed Cirilla's eagerness to visit another, but she was aware that Cerys hadn't yet returned from her meeting with the Jarls. The young witcher was quick, she rushed through her hot steamy bath, then donned a blouse, her pants, before hugging Triss as she stood by the fireplace adding wood to the fire.

The sorceress smiled, then held Cirilla's arms, "You are anxious."

"Cerys isn't back, I want to be with her." Cirilla whispered. "What should I do? I can't think...Rosi is already falling asleep."

"Do something racy and bold, baby girl." Triss snickered, as they both exchanged a brief embrace. "Why don't you slip into her bedchambers? When Cerys returns, I'm sure she'll be glad to see you."

Ciri grinned, rolled her eyes mischievously, pondering, then nodded and replied. "But what about you and Rosi?"

"We'll be fine, I plan to take a bath with Rosi, then care for your sister before curling in bed for a good night's rest. I need it."

Triss gently pushed Ciri forward, as the witcheress slipped from their bedroom and made her way to Cerys'. The sorceress felt a sudden drain in her body, she ran a second bath, then held Rosi on her chest as she sat in the water. Triss played with her baby, enjoying their tender moments. She felt their bond, that warm tether that held the four of them bound, no matter the distance. Her warm body against Rosina's stirred feelings only she could experience. Rosi's magic had calmed and the child began to drift to sleep, as the water cooled. Triss climbed out, her body wet as she placed Rosina on the bed, then too a towel to dry their bodies. She quickly prepared her baby for bed, feeding her, before placing Rosi in the bassinet. Triss kissed her child's lips and though fast asleep, Rosi beamed, smiling at her mother's touch. She shifted anxiously, then opened her eyes, her body craved the comfort of her mother's soft skin. The sorceress laid in a bed, yet she could not sleep, her eyes shifted to Rosi's sudden movements. They needed each other, Rosi craving the scent of her mother and the enchantress yearning for the comforting smell of her daughter. Triss took Rosi against her chest, then opened her gown so their bare skin touched.

Their warmth seeped into their bodies, calming and soothing them both, as she closed her eyes. Triss had sensed the change and Rosi's deep calmness since the garden. Her little fiery sorceress was asleep. The sweet smell of her mother's body calmed Rosi, and her soft scent had the same effect on the sorceress. Triss shifted her body, moving closer to the center of the bed. Cirilla's absence meant the enchantress had space to sprawl her body, as Rosi swirled in dreams, oblivious to the world, her hands clutching her mother's gown, her small legs hugging Triss' belly, breathing softly against her chest. Triss gently caressed Rosi's face and she turned her small body, shifting her head, disturbed by her mother's touch. The enchantress canted her head, shifting her pillow gently as she gazed at the peacefulness that rested on her child's face. It was hard to imagine she was the same baby whose cries could shock the senses. Triss smiled faintly, she could sleep, rest her eyes and allow her dreams to take her, knowing she'd always had something worth fighting for.

***][***

Outside Cerys' Bedchambers…

Cirilla had walked through the main hall, past the warriors gathered around a table, drinking mead as the servants cleaned, moving about in preparation for the feast that was to come. She made her way down the stairs and the guards glanced at the witcheress, then stepped back against the wall, allowing her to calmly stroll past. Although aware their Queen was not present, they allowed her entry, then continued their slouching posture without giving her a second look. Ciri opened the door, the room stood dimly lit from the light in the hall, the fireplace had burned out. She quickly added wood, ignited the fire and a single candle, then climbed into the cold deserted bed and curled her body beneath the furry duvet. Cerys' bedchambers held her subtle scent, and Cirilla's anxiousness gripped her like a vice, from which she could not free herself until she saw, kissed and held her again. She tried to stay awake, but it had been a long day and the witcher soon found herself drifting to sleep, longingly holding onto her lover's pillow. In the early hours of the morning Cerys returned and the young Queen and her queen's guards burst loudly through the doors leading down the stair towards her bedchambers. She bore a weary yet proud look on her face, as though she'd accomplished something remarkable. Her eyes were sunken, as she conversed with Vigdis and her sisters. Bera and Frida threw their bodies against the wall, then sat on the stairs. Reginleif and Freygerd also sat on the stairs side by side leaning their bodies just in front of Bera. Reginleif, leaned her head on her sister's shoulder then yawned, blearily, as Ingigerd nodded to the two men standing guards beside the Queen's chambers. She waved them off, having them move up the stairs into the main hall and, after a short brief conversation with Cerys, Vigdis nodded, then patted her shoulder as Cerys walked to her door.

The fireplace was burning and the sudden opening of the door caused a soft breeze to enter the warm bedchamber. She walked towards her bed, staring at the fire that shouldn't have been lit. Her eyes glimpsed the outline of a figure in her bed, long ashen hair flowing across the sheet, washed by the soft candlelight. Cerys stood in the shadows, a warmth spread across her skin, a sensation that she could not escape, as her weary face suddenly brightened. She quietly moved closer to her sleeping lover, then rested her hands on both sides hovering her body over Cirilla's. The sweat on her brow and neck like droplets of rain, her breath stopped as she gazed at the woman in her bed. She kissed Ciri's face, then pecked her lips, but just as she pulled away, Cirilla opened her eyes. She lifted her body, surprised by Cerys' presence, then latched her fingers on the collar of her gambeson, pulling Cerys down. She held onto Cirilla's opened blouse, and before each woman could breathe, they melted into each other. Their soft quick kisses were frantic, each one stripping away a doubt, an angst, every soft touch soothing unseen pains, as Cirilla held onto Cerys' armor, raising her legs around her lover's body.

"Ye snuck in me bed?" Cerys asked softly.

"Hey, you are back!" Cirilla replied. "I did…needed a place to sleep so Triss and Rosi could rest, they went through a lot today."

"Aye, High Priestess Modron Sigrdrifa told me and the Jarls what ye ma did in Hindar."

"Yeah, I'm not sure what happened, but the tree reacted to Rosi's presence…but all that can wait, I've missed you." Ciri replied, still locking her legs around Cerys' body.

"Aye, me too, Ciri, ye can't believe how much I've wanted to see ye. I tried to rush through me talks, I was impatient...wanted to get back to ye." Cerys said, forlornly, "So...ye're heading home after the feast today, aren't ye? Yer ma and her friends will be leaving, ye'll be wanting to go with them."

"Shush, dammit, just shush! I am going to take your clothes off and we'll stay in here till evening." Cirilla whispered into Cerys' ears, then smiled. "No more talking of home, let me have this moment with you."

"Aye." Cerys replied, then dragged her hand along Cirilla's side, kissing her lips.

They locked eyes for a moment, until Cirilla began the sensual task of undressing her woman. As she removed each piece of armor and clothes she kissed Cerys, and each time her kisses were answered with a blistering passionate reply. They were quick at first, their lust overcame any rational thought and their lovemaking quickly dissolved into an animalistic, yet deeply arousing, dance. Both women shed tears in their embrace, and when they kissed, that sweet gentle touch tasted even sweeter, mingled with their tears as they comforted each other. It felt short, too short, morning was almost upon them, but the young lovers nuzzled in each other's embrace. They'd made love, again and again, both taking what they wanted, soothing each other's needs, and for a moment they had forgotten themselves. As the day broke, they both ignored the knocking on the doors until Vigdis finally silence her sisters, giving Cerys and Cirilla the day to themselves. Cerys had lost count of how many times they'd had made love, kissing each other's bodies, there wasn't a spot that their lips had not visited. When their bodies finally parted after long sweltering sessions of intimacy, both lay panting, soaked in sweat, grinning as they lay in bed. Ciri rolled over and softly kissed her lover's lips, as Cerys slowly dragged the tips of her fingers down Ciri's shoulder, then down her arm. The soft sensation caused goosebumps to spread across Cirilla's flesh.

"What are ye thinking about?" Cerys said, in her soft lilt and Ciri's heart skipped a beat.

Hmm… She hummed in thought, then smirked. "I'm thinking…how hungry I am."

"Really?!" Cerys said, pausing, she rolled towards Ciri, trailing her hand between her thigh. "Yer not thinking about…me? Don't ye want yer sparrow?"

"Of course I do! What I want...would make even you blush, but…right now, I'm famished." Cirilla replied, caressing Cerys' waist. She could feel her empty stomach growl. "Our...'fun' has worked up an appetite."

"Alright, I'll have someone bring us something to eat." Cerys said with a half-hearted sigh, knowing she had to break that warmth she felt from Cirilla's body

"And drinks." Ciri whispered, as her lover rolled away to get out of bed.

"Aye, drinks." Cerys turned to tease, but Cirilla grabbed and pulled her down playfully. They kissed, then laughed, tussling in bed. Ciri struggled, but Cerys easily overpowered her and straddle her body, then pinned her hands away. She pressed her bare skin against Cirilla's bringing their lips together in a soft kiss followed by small gentle bites. The witcheress was strong, but Cerys held a slight edge in physical strength alone. Ciri knew that strength, she'd experienced it when she faced Ingigerd and the other shieldmaidens in the courtyard, and Cerys was the best amongst them. Cirilla twisted her body using all the strength she could muster, but her efforts failed to budge her lover even an inch.

She groaned, pouting, and pushing as hard as she could. She's like a wall.
"Anything else ye want, Yer Highness?"

"No, dark lips, that's quite alright for now." Ciri answered, rolling over on her stomach as Cerys hopped up, releasing her.

She admired Cerys' body as the young woman bent slightly at the waist, aware of the eyes fixed on her thick body. Their playful romantic skirmish left them both out of breath, but her witcher's eyes left them both sweating. Ciri gazed on Cerys' naked body, her eyes were focused on the soft flowing pools of sweat that caressed her neck and back, gathering in the crevasse just below her shoulder blades.

"'Dark lips'? Where did ye get that?" Cerys whispered as she took Cirilla's blouse.

Cirilla stared, it'd taken everything she had not to lift her body and grab Cerys in that moment. She noticed the tattoo on Cerys just as it came into the candle light. She'd seen it, just before it disappeared beneath the fabric. Cirilla' blouse held Cerys' body tightly, her beautiful firm curves were accented by the snugness. She frowned, how could she miss that? The tattoo on the Queen's back was a horn crossed by a sword, the very same marking on the faces of her shieldmaidens, though hers was notably larger. Ciri's eyes fell down to her lover's rear and her mood quickly shifted. She bit the edge of her smile, vainly trying to mask her devious grin as Cerys walked around the bed. Cirilla grabbed her hips and pulled her back once more, then planted a gentle nip as Cerys playfully tried to pull away.

"Argh! Don't bite me there! Or I'll stay here with ye and ye'll stay hungry."

"Oh? What about this?" Ciri whispered, then kissed Cerys on the very spot she'd bit.

"Aye, ye can do that, but no biting...not yet." Cerys replied.

"That tattoo on your back, what does it mean? They all have it on their faces."

"They are me sisters, An Craite shieldmaiden sworn to protect me until me last days." Cerys said as she gazed at Cirilla. "We've always been friends, since we were little, ye don't remember them. When I became queens they became me guards."

Cerys eyes had a look of admonishment, but her perking lips grinned with a certain appeal that left Ciri smiling. Cirilla was certain it was past midday. She watched Cerys shimmy her hips, pulling down her short blouse in an effort to cover her butt, then propped her body, resting on her stomach and elbows, feet raised, cheeks resting in her palms as she enjoyed the view. She lay, watching the sway of Cerys' body, enjoying the sight as she slowly walked towards the door.

Cerys then glanced over her shoulder, Cirilla had sat up in bed. She unfastened the front of her blouse, freeing her body. The young Queen smiled coyly, placing her hand behind her back, pushing up her chest. "What d'ye think? How do i look in yer blouse, Ciri?"

"You look racy in that." Ciri whispered, her enamored grin said it all.

Cerys, stood before her, wearing nothing but an exposing blouse, her blouse, her freckled chest bare, long wavy auburn hair hanging over one shoulder. She's gorgeous… Ciri thought. That red hair against that gorgeous pale skin… She caught herself again in her fervent thoughts. The witcheress hadn't felt such passion for anyone. It was exciting and she would enjoy every moment they were in each other's company. Cerys quietly unlocked the door, then peeked her head out.

"Oi!"

"Arg! Vig, don't ye scare me like that!" Cerys replied. She was startled by the sudden voice just to her left. It was familiar, Vigdis' voice. To her surprise, her shieldmaidens were sitting on guard, just off to the left in the corridor.

"Why don't ye come outside, eh?" Vigdis said.

"No!"

"Come out, ye bad girl." Ingigerd said, stepping before the door to pry it wide open with her feet, forcing Cerys to leap against the wall to conceal her scantily clad body. She had been standing against the wall, perfectly still, and Cerys hadn't noticed.

"Dammit, Ingi!"

"What's wrong with ye?" Bera shouted, then lowered her voice as Vigdis shushed her. "We've all seen ye naked before, Sparrowhawk. We've bathed together in the ponds, remember?"

"Why don't ye stop fooling around." Frida mumbled, then rose to her feet and walked towards the stairs just as the twins Reginleif and Freygerd walked around the corner and burst into laughter.

Cerys pressed her back against the wall, her face was afire, glowing red as she blushed. She could not face her sisters. She mumbled, trying to give a firm order, but her soft coy voice made them tease her even more.

"Alright, ye all had yer fun, now go and get yerselves ready for the feast. No dress tonight, we are warriors." Vigdis said, chastising them. Always the elder, she came to Cerys' rescue and waved the others away.

"Psst! Vig, c'mere!" Cerys whispered loudly, "Are they gone?"

"Aye, ye can come out now."

The shieldmaiden turned her head and then smiled when she saw Cerys' head poking out from the side of the door. She smiled and shook her head, then rose to her feet and walked over.

"What is it, Sparrowhawk?" Vigdis asked, trying her best not to laugh.

"Can ye bring us something to eat and drink?" Cerys whispered quietly.

"Alright, sure. Feast will start soon, yer sure ye and Ciri don't want to wait?"

"Aye, I'm sure."

"Anything in particular ye want?"

"I…" Cerys paused as she felt Cirilla's hands slip under her clothes, across her stomach, as her body suddenly pressed against Cerys' back. "…um, I don't know. Some meat and fruits, meybe?"

"And wine." Ciri added, as her head appeared next to Cerys' and rested on her shoulder.

"And wine, aye." Vigdis echoed, her eyes wandered from Ciri to the blouse Cerys wore, as Cirilla's hands shifted beneath the fabric, moving to her chest. "Playing dress-up, are ye?"

"Ay?" Cerys mumbled, confused.

"Nevermind." Vigdis chuckled, then turned, "I'll be back with yer wine and food."

As Cerys closed the door she felt Ciri's hands slip down to her waist. When she turned around, the witcheress had walked away towards the fireplace. Her stride was slow, the movements of her hips exaggerated in a tease. She dropped Cerys' dress from her body and stood naked. Cerys watched grinning, tilting her head as her eyes travelled the length of her lover's body. Only her back and butt, remained visible, silhouetted against the light of the burning fireplace. .

"Ye're a sight, ye know…?" She whispered, mischief lurking deep in her eyes and on her lips.

"Really? Even with all these scars?"

"I love yer scars."

"You love my scars, huh?"

"Aye." Cerys answered. "I knew I was in trouble when I saw ye in that inn again."

Ciri spun around on her heel, smiling seductively, and slowly made her way back towards Cerys, with her crown atop her head. "How so?"

"I've loved ye, for so long..." Cerys mumbled, then turned her eyes away, but Cirilla brought them back to her. "What was I to do but fall deeper in love with ye?"

"I love you too, beautiful." Ciri whispered, smiling. "So, you love me?"

"Aye, with all me heart."

Cirilla struck a pose holding the crown on her head. "And now?"

"Aye…Do ye want to be Queen fer the night?"

"No, thank you." Ciri said quickly, feigning a pout, then smiling as she took off the crown and tossed it on the bed. She slipped her hands along Cerys' hips, then gave her a soft, drawn-out kiss on the lips. "I'm happy as we are."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Cerys turned around and opened it. Vigdis had in one hand a platter of various roasted meats, as well as a bowl of grapes and assorted fruits. In the other hand, she carried a large jug of wine. Cerys reached out and took hold of them.

"Ta, Vig."

"So, ye two having fun?" Vigdis asked with a wink.

"Yes, we are. Thanks for the food, Vigdis." Ciri said cheerfully over Cerys' shoulder, as the Queen blushed.

"I…no problem. Ye're welcome, Ciri." The shieldmaiden said, awkwardly, then turned. "Sparrowhawk, her ma and the other's will be gathering soon for the feast. Hjalmar is back with his ruffians, so don't be too long."

"Aye, ma." Cerys teased.

Ciri took the tray towards the bed, grabbing a slice of some white roasted meat and dropping it in her mouth. Pork. "This is good. Gods, I'm starving!" She said with a mouthful of food.

She placed the tray on the table next to the bed, then reclined against the pillows, grabbing another piece of meat. Mmm..

Cerys grabbed two goblets and placed them on the table, then filled them with wine. She set the jug on the table, grabbed her goblet, and then grabbed the bowl of grapes. She laid across the bottom of the bed, near Ciri's feet, resting the bowl on the bed in front of her. Cirilla ate another small cut of meat, then washed it down with some wine.

They sat there, eating, drinking wine and conversing for nearly an hour. Cerys asked Ciri about her scars, tracing the outlines with her fingers and tickling the witcher. They talked about their lives, both as a witcher and as the Queen of the Skellige Isles, then laughed together about the good and bad. Cerys wanted to know more, but her questions were of Triss, and Cirilla quickly realized her lover intended to seek the sorceress' approval. The looming war was never far from their lips, but as they conversed in confidence, they spoke of the tolls it took to rule a kingdom. Both young women used the opportunity to vent their rage and frustration, while finding support and comfort in each other's embrace.. When they were done, they bathed together, sat for a while, then Ciri snuck away to Triss' bedchamber in a portal, as Cerys readied herself for the festive night.

***][***

Main Hall...Kaer Trolde...Later in the night...

Triss Merigold and Margarita entered the hall filled with soldiers and warriors. Men stepped aside, parting a path in the larger crowd for the enchantresses. Rita shrouded her body in a yellow dress with green trims, the satiny long loose material accentuated the ankle-length gown. She entered lightly beside her sister, their demeanor and manner reflected their status as sorceresses. Each step they took was like a well-rehearsed dance, drawing the gaze of everyone nearby. Triss wore a blue dress, soft creamy sheets of silk, like the softness of the cloud. Her blue eyes lit like cut gems matching her gown, she had her fiery auburn locks pinned up fashionably. Her styles always showed her untamed fierceness, the sorceress had never been one to follow the norms in dress, and no one could dare hope to tame such a fiery storm, say her witcher and husband Geralt of Rivia. The gentle silky fabric caressed her skin with soft sensual kisses, like a lover's touch. They strolled through the doors, their smooth skin seducing the senses, yet conveying a message of women who were far out of reach. Both enchantresses were skillfully seductive, deeply appealing and pleasing to the eyes. Each refined, their faces told any would-be love-stricken fool to stay away, they were taken and far beyond the reach of any man, say their lovers. Stunning as she was, sensual, charming, appealing and ravishing, only such words could describe her daring look. Triss' enchantingly freckled face stared back at the crowd, searching each face for a certain ashen witcher. A beauty mark rested just below the corner of her small mouth that made the enchantress' smile even more radiant. There was no hesitation in her step as she walked the tables. She scanned the room, it wasn't the lavish balls of the royal court that she and her sisters were accustomed to, but someone had made desserts. A long oak table against the wall was laden with delicacies and desserts that made the mouth water. Beside that, were more tables topped with carefully prepared foods, while servants brought more food and wine.

The air smelled of roasted boar and honey-mead, with a hint of spice and seasoning. She counted six sizzling pigs roasting on spits atop open flames, their jaws gripping fiery red apples. Each golden-brown hog marinated in a sweet-smelling sauce and tended by an old woman who carefully lathered them with just the right amount to wet the tongue. Nearby, young women prepared more fragrant dishes atop hot stones. The servants in the hall made their rounds, as fountains of wine and mead poured, filling goblet and horn alike. An Craite warriors and Koviri soldiers drank their fill. The hall was lit in a hue of soft yellow. High overhead, chandeliers adorned with torches burned brightly. The walls were laden with shields and swords of Clan An Craite, tapestries weaving a story of bravery worthy of ballads. Triss turned her gaze as a woman approached, it was Frierk, the old woman who had greeted and aided the sorceress on her arrival. Triss hadn't seen the woman in days and her immediate instinct was to hug, but she simply smiled. The enchantresses stood, raising her body proudly, as old woman turned, signaling them to follow. She smiled at the enchantress, bowing slightly, then began a narrative of the event and the meanings of the great feast. Triss scanned the room again, searching for Cirilla, who she'd coaxed to be with Cerys the night before, until her eyes caught the assortment of carefully laid out desserts. She gazed at them eagerly, Triss had always been fond of desserts, and what she saw stirred memories of events long passed. The enchantress tried to count the number of cakes and sweets that lined the tables, but hadn't enough fingers. Small treats laden silver trays, and large oversized goblets held assortments of fruit.

"M'lady, the desserts are for yer pleasure." Freark announced.

"For me?"

"Aye. We can't make yer fancy treats and pastries, so this is what we've got."

"Wow, someone looking to impress." Triss whispered, then smiled. "I'm not that extravagant, I'd much rather simplicity in good company."

"Eh? Cerys asked them to make it for ye." Freark said, then continued. "I don't understand continentals."

Both sorceresses were carefully seated at the main table, then the woman bowed and Triss nodded in respect. Cerys walked into the chamber flanked by her guards, her long auburn hair braided in a single plait draped across her neck. She was a beautiful young woman and held the kind of beauty that was mysterious, leaving much to the imagination. Triss noticed the glow on the Queen's face as their eyes met, her lips held a gloss to it and appeared much darker than before. Cerys raised her hands so they wouldn't stand, but the gesture was rightfully ignored. Though many would see the sorceresses in equality with many nobles and royalty, Cerys was Queen, and as it was customary, both enchantresses rose to their feet, causing everyone in the hall to rise for the young Queen. With a roll of her eyes and a laugh, Cerys waved her hand and seated the crowd. Her Queensguard, dressed as warriors, quickly departed her side and sat at the table just behind her. The music began to play as Cerys strolled towards the table. The lute had ceased when the enchantresses entered the main hall, now the soft strumming continued.

"Greetings, Your Highness." Margarita said politely as Cerys reached the table.

"Gre—?" Cerys' whispered, her voice suddenly vanished. She stood frozen as her eyes caught a glimpse of Cirilla entering the hall.

"See something ye like, Sparrowhawk?" Vigdis whispered, mocking, and causing Triss to gaze at the Queen.

"Vig!" Cerys grumbled.

Rita laughed, joining in the playful tease, as Cerys' eyes widened and her face glowed shocking red. The sorceress had become fond of the young queen, and she had an unobstructed view of the doors and Cirilla approaching them from the stairs, clad in witcher's armor. "Cirilla is coming."

"I know." Triss smiled.

Cerys took her seat. She was just an arm's length from Triss, as she rested her hands on her lap, squeezing her gambeson and balling her fist tightly. She closed her eyes and took deep short breaths to steady herself. She felt the heat rising in her body, her face and cheeks, it was something more than the beautiful rosiness of a simple blush, it was infatuation, a love so stinging she could scream as Vigdis continued her tease. Her blush and embarrassment had become their tonic, livening the night and as her anxiety rose. Cerys' beautiful face felt afire, sinking deeper in a mortifying retreat. Knowing everyone seated at the table could see her blushing hue, her mind raced, twirling endlessly as the voices continued and suddenly all her insecurities, few as they were, surfaced. At that moment, the Queen felt as though the entire hall could see her fondness for Cirilla. She struck away her fears and committed to doing the unthinkable.

"Cerys, they are simply teasing. Cirilla is coming, you don't want her to see you so flustered, do you?" Triss whispered encouragingly, then reached forward. Cerys felt a sudden warmth and opened her eyes, as the enchantress took her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"Ah, don't mind them..." Cerys whispered softly, as Cirilla reached the table.

"Wow, what a feast!" Cirilla's voice echoed, as she tried to avoid the shieldmaidens' gaze.

"Yes, it's quite an event. Come on, sit here." Triss whispered, then shifted her seat so Ciri could sit between her and Cerys.

"Why is everyone smiling? What's so funny?" Ciri asked, as Cerys sat silently eyeing her.

"Ye and Sparrowhawk. Look at yer faces." Ingigerd answered, drinking mead from a horn.

"What's wrong with our faces?" Ciri replied, with a smile.

"Oi, yer not going to kiss her, Ciri?" Vigdis asked.

"Vig, ye are cruel." Frida said, as the rest of the shieldmaidens burst into laughter. Even Triss snickered as the women laughed. Ciri blushed, turning away, but when her gaze met Triss, she felt encouraged, supported as the sorceress nodded.

"That's enough from ye lot!" Cerys barked at her guards. Cirilla's presence, her gentle nudge, gave her the confidence she desperately needed, yet Ciri was the reason the Queen had lost her composure. Cerys stood and Vigdis signaled to stop the music and the women dancing. The hall grew silent, listening as she spoke. "I'd like to welcome ye all to Kaer Trolde, home of Clan an Craite. Tonight, we hold a feast to honor me guest."

"Thank you." Triss said, as she raised a goblet of juice, eagerly awaiting Cerys' announcement of her decision.

"King Radovid and Emhyr make war on the north. Long have me people lived knowing the Black Ones would come to our shores if we let them. I want Nilfgaard to learn that we Skelligers fear no one. I've made me decision, Triss, and the Jarls will stand with me, so ye can tell yer King, Kovir has her ally." Cerys said, as everyone at the table rose to their feet and more chanting erupted. "The Clan and warriors of Skellige will sharpen their fangs again!"

"Aye!" The hall erupted with soldiers and warriors raising their mugs, horns and goblets. "Cerys…Sparrowhawk…Cerys…Sparrowhawk…Cerys!"

"The Clans of Skellige will fight, Triss. We'll join yer alliance, and when this war is over, I want me people to reap treasures for the blood they'll shed."

Triss nodded. She raised her goblet, sipping from it. She had secured an alliance and now knew some measure of relief, with her return to Kovir on the morrow. "Thank you, Cerys, and may this alliance be a start to a prosperous future for Kovir and Skellige."

"To new friends!" Cerys shouted, as she raised her mug of mead and took a drink. Her shieldmaidens followed in an uncontrolled chant as Cerys' voice softened, just for the enchantress' ears. "And new families."

Triss closed her eyes and nodded, then opened them again as Hjalmar's voice echoed the hall, joining the chants. "Sparrowhawk, Sparrowhawk, Sparrowhawk. So ye finally make yer move, eh, sis? The Black Ones ruffles yer feathers enough? Ye knew Emhyr would come someday."

"Aye, and that's why I have ye at me side, and now we have an ally, Hjalmar." Cerys replied. "This is the Ladies Triss Merigold, Margarita Laux-Antille, and...Ciri ye already know."

"A little formal, aren't we? Just Triss would suffice, Your Highness."

"Aye, I know Ciri, I'm to marry her, eh?" Hjalmar said and Cerys cringed.

"Ye are not marrying anyone." Cerys growled.

"Hi, Hjalmar." Ciri said, then shifted slightly, moving closer to Cerys.

"Triss, tis me brother, Hjalmar, the slouch I told ye about..." Cerys, said as Hjalmar tilted his head in disagreement.

"Ah told ye, the matters with Clan Drummond are settled."

"Aye, after ah got involved." Cery answered, then handed her brother a mug.

"Where is the bairn everyone is blabbering about? Geralt's bairn? I want to see her." He commanded, then took a drink of mead and wiped the spill from his beard.

"She's asleep." Cirilla whispered, then stared at Triss.

"Can ye wake her?" Hjalmar asked.

"I can, then I'll strap her to your back when she begins to cry." Triss answered, causing Cerys and Cirilla to laugh as Hjalmar raised his hand and waved it in protest.

"Sit down and drink with us. They're returning to Kovir tomorrow." Cerys said, her voice soft.

"Ciri too?"

"Aye..." Cery answered, scowling.

The Queen held her frown on her face as she waved the servants over to her table. They pushed forward a roasted pig and placed it on the tables, followed by an assortment of dishes as more servants laid platters of cut pork and fish before them. The feast had begun. Triss took a small cut of spit-roasted pork, Cirilla did the same, and they both dipped it in a sauce to coax it down. It was sweet and tingled the throat. The smoothness of the meal was pleasurable, it's taste was familiar, Marlene had made something similar, though her seasonings and recipes were much more enticing. Triss had a few more tasty bites, then sampled the roasts of deer and fowls turning on the spit, glazed in a sweet sauce that smelled of pineapples. The birds was stuffed with diced fruits and spices, then drizzled in different sauces. Each dish begged to be tried and the enchantresses obliged, dipping small portions in a spicy concoction, before placing it into her mouth. A young woman laid a fillet of grilled fish before her and Triss took a few bites, but it tasted foreign in preparation, so she politely requested desserts. A large wooden tray held over twenty small desserts, a mixture of tarts, cakes, funnel cakes, and small fruit-filled treats. The sorceress allowed herself to try each, then washed it all down with juice. She'd indulged, eating more than she had done in days, though, compared to the others at the table, she and Rita had the least to eat. As Cerys and Cirilla ate, Triss watched as they playfully shared each other's meals. There was a moment when their eyes met and their hands found each other, they turned away, both gazing down. Cirilla took a cut of meat and fed it to Cerys, then licked her fingers as the Queen fed her pieces of pork dipped in a reddish sauce. They smiled, oblivious to the eyes on them, until Vigdis spoke.

"Ye know everyone is watching ye two." Vigdis whispered.

"Why did you ruin the moment? I was watching them. I think you are lovely together, Ciri." Triss whispered and Rita nodded.

"Why are ye two so close?" Hjalmar grumbled.

"Because we can!" Cerys replied.

Cirilla smiled, then both women shifted, moving away from each other as Reginleif and her twin Freygerd whistled, egging them on. "She's good fer ye, Cerys."

"I don't think Cerys's got courage to kiss Ciri, right here, now." Vigdis said, taunting them.

"And if I do?" Cerys growled.

"I'll keep me mouth shut." Vigdis answered, raising her hands.

Cirilla frowned. She eyed Vigdis for her taunts, though she'd hope Cerys would kiss her, then turned as Hjalmar spoke. "Cerys, ye always thinks ye can best everyone."

"I can best ye in anything, even though ye are older." Cerys replied, "I can best ye in sword and with me fist. I can best any man here."

"Prove it, then!" He crooked.

"Pick yer match and then come get yer whooping, brother." Cerys answered.

"Why don't ye have a race to the top and retrieve the axe, then ye can prove yerself. Ye remember the race, Ciri?" Bera said, then finished her mead and slammed her mug on the table.

"I'll beat her in that too." Hjalmar said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Are ye daft? I havenae race ye, not yet. But I'll win, and be there and on me way back before ye reach the top." Cerys said.

There was a silence in the hall as the eyes focused on them. An Craite warriors gathered, egging on the challenge, and Cerys accepted, denying her brother a chance to refuse. Yennefer pushed her way through the rowdy crowd and noticed Triss, Rita and Cirilla standing just behind Cerys. Hjalmar and Cerys would race to the top and the first to retrieve the axe wins. They agreed on wagering each other's swords, until Cirilla offered the winner a kiss to entice her lover to win. Cerys frowned, she hated Ciri's proposal, but the young Queen had no intention of losing. They made their way to the starting area, then, with a swift wave of her hand, Vigdis started the race. It wasn't long before Cerys quickly pulled ahead of her brother, climbing the wall and taking the lead. She easily defeated her brother, retrieving the axe and returning it to the main hall. Cirilla's playful gesture had made Cerys even more eager to prove her brother wrong. When she returned, the noise of the feast and drunken warriors almost drowned out their voices, but Cerys knew her every movement was being watched carefully by everyone. She took the axe and handed it to Cirilla, and the witcher quickly tucked it in her belt on her armor. Their blushes would have been enough to alert anyone of their affections, but the redness in their faces radiated like hot steel in fire, and no one in the hall could've missed it. Hjalmar entered the main hall, his breath was heavy from the race as he acknowledged his loss. Cerys would've waited, but the egging crowd demanded the kiss. She took her lover's hand, then grabbed onto Cirilla's wrist and armor, pulling her closer. Both knew the meaning, and for a moment, Cirilla hesitated. Cerys was Queen and such displays could damage her status, yet they drew closer.

"Don't kiss me here, you're the Queen, people will see, they'll talk." Ciri whispered, so only Cerys could hear her words.

"Like they don't already?" Cerys mumbled, then smiled, their lips brushed, nothing like an innocent kiss or a simple tease, their embrace was a passionate, demanding display neither could pull away from. Ciilla's hands rested below Cerys' ears, both hands cupping her face as her small bodys folded in her embrace. Cerys' thumb caressed Cirilla's scarred cheek, while her left hand held her neck. Ciri urged herself to break free, but she couldn't, both women knew everyone was watching, because the noise had quietened down. When their lips parted, both stood with their faces nuzzled in each others necks for comfort.

"Ciri..." Cerys whispered, slowly stretching her voice like nothing Cirilla had heard before. Her name hadn't been spoken so beautifully, so emotionally, and had never felt so wonderful, that she leaned in for another kiss. Theirs hearts fluttered as they parted again, the feast erupted into a frenzied cheer, shocking them both.

"I guess I should know better than to pull yer tail by now, eh? Well, no shame losing to me blood. But…ye and Ciri? I didnae see that coming. How?"

"It…just happened. I saw her again, and took me chance. I had to. I hope me brother is happy me, eh!"

Hjalmar's face softened as he took his struggling sister and tried to pull her close. "Aye, I am, I am, and da would be too. I'm sorry, Cerys."

"Our da is gone and ye're all I've got left, ye oaf!" Cerys yelled, battering Hjalmar on the chest. "Ye and me sisters."

"And now ye've got Ciri, Sparrowhawk." He said, as she stopped struggling. "Is this why ye're always so bloody competitive, always trying to prove yourself?" He asked as he looked at Ciri, whose teary eyes were locked on her lover. "Well, ye don't have to do that anymore. Ye're Queen, and a good one, and ye've got her, that's obvious. So, can ye stop trying to best yer brother at everything?"

They broke their hug with a smile, as Hjalmar wiped his sister's eyes. Cerys turned, towards Ciri, and her brother gave her an encouraging shove into her witcher's arms.

"You ok?" Ciri whispered, holding onto Cerys' body.

"Aye, I'm fine." Cerys replied as they both parted and collected themselves.

"What was that? What is Cirilla thinking, behaving this way?" Yennefer said, "Why would she be so lewd in front of everyone? She wants to be with a woman?"

"Let them live, Yen, while they are still young." Triss replied. With the way things are going, it's going to be difficult to see such moments with those we love. "Come, we have to talk."

Rita returned to the main hall and interrupted Yennefer and Triss' conversation, "I'm afraid your talk will have to wait. Keira is on my megascope and the news isn't good, Triss."

"Excuse us, Yen, we have a private matter to attend to." Triss whispered. "Rita, please let Captain Einar know this feast has to be cut short."

A few Moment later…Margarita's bedchambers...

Triss, and Rita quietly left the main hall headed to Rita's bedchamber. Just up the stairs, Rita signaled commander Einar and his men to inform the captains of all the vessels to prepare for an earlier departure in the morning, then invited the commander to be privy to their conversations. Inside her chambers, her megascope hummed, as Keira waited impatiently.

Triss and Rita approached the megascope and began to speak, as Einar remained in the background. "Keira, what's happening? Tell me what's happening over there."

"Sisters, it's bad." Keira replied. "Radovid's army has attacked the Hengfors League, the city of Hengfors is under siege. Barefield has requested formal entry back into the Kingdom of Kovir and Poviss."

"Yes, I figured they'd run for Kovir's protection. Their militias are no match for the Redanian army." Triss replied. "What about the other members of the League?"

"Malleore and Caingorn, in recognition of their alliance with Creyden, has also requested formal entry to rejoin Kovir and Poviss. Tancred awaits your council of course to make his final decision, but at the moment the mages share their time between New Aretuza and Pont Vanis."

"So, Radovid's finally made his move..." Rita spoke, as Cirilla entered the bedchambers and stood with her arms folded and back against the far wall. "This changes nothing. As of now, Kovir is officially at war with Redania, sisters."

"Yes." Keira answered. "Malleore and Caingorn will be temporarily granted protection under Kovir and Poviss. Tancred has ordered a force of six thousand men into Caingorn with the militia of twelve hundred men from Barefield. Three thousand men are to enter Malleore, conscripting her forces under Kovir's banner."

"Have the Redanians made any attempts to cross the river Braa?" Triss asked.

"Forgive me, m'lady. The Braa is a natural border." Einar said, breaking his silence.

"I know, easily defensible if Radovid tries to cross over bridges, but I doubt we'd be that lucky." Triss replied, acknowledging, then showing Cirilla an anxious smile.

"They've made no attempts to cross. The Nineteenth Infantry and the Twenty-First Cavalry are to defend in Talgar, just across the river Braa, that is where the main camp will be for now. There's also a blockade of the river to cut off Radovid's supply by sea."

"What of King Niedamir? With the league broken, do we have any news." Triss asked. "How did our intelligence miss this? How can Radovid deal such a blow in one day?"

"No, we've learned the capital has been under attack for at least three days. I learned of it and did not want to trouble you with the news, but with the city about to fall, I felt it necessary to alert you. Right now, Hengfors is holding under the siege, but it's only a matter of time before it falls. I've heard reports that Niedamir may even be dead." Keira said. "You need to return as soon as possible."

"With the Hengfors League defeated so easily, it changes things. Radovid's army is prepared." Triss mumbled. "We depart tomorrow, this is not the news I'd hoped to hear. Well, it can't be helped. Where is…"

"Your lover is home and he's well, I've already told you. Though, your witcher doesn't handle separation from his child well." Keira answered, "I'll contact you if when I learn more."

Margarita turned as Cirilla pushed herself off the wall and moved closer. "Triss, you should tell her your concerns. Cirilla will understand."

"Rita, it's not so simple, I don't want her to be hurt or worse, she's already been through alot."

"Tell me what?" Ciri replied. "Tell me what?!"

Triss sighed, she knew Cirilla's response before she even uttered the words, but before she could speak, Rita answered. "Triss does not want you or Geralt to be involved in the war."

"Is that so?"

"Ciri, please, not now. Please, don't argue, just promise me you'll stay with with your sister in Pont Vanis." Triss replied. "Rita, this wasn't the most appropriate time to address this."

"No! What is it with you, Yennefer and everyone else?! Why do you all think you can tell me what I can and can't do?!"

"I can tell you because I love you and I won't place you in harm's way!"

"I'm sorry, Triss, but I am a part of this war because you are. This is my chance to protect you. I've seen so much killing, but I'm not willing to sit idle while you go off to war. I can't lose anyone else, I can't lose you."

"This is not about me, Ciri, please!" Triss replied, then moved towards Cirilla.

"No! You can't ask me to step aside. I won't! I'm sorry, mother, I just can't." Ciri mumbled, then turned and and left the room.

"So stubborn." Triss whispered.

"Yes, and reckless too. Does she remind you of anyone?" Rita replied. "Come, we must finish this night."

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Thanks for reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think I am always looking forward to improving my writing and ideas.