Conjunction
Chapter 28 - Revelations
"Geralt? You're... alive? How are you alive?" Yennefer sputtered. Her violet eyes skittered up and down his body as though she didn't believe he was real. She took a hesitant step towards him then stopped when she seemed to register the lack of emotion on his face. Her expression turned from one of eager expectation to uncertainty.
"I believed you were dead, too, Yennefer," he said, barely able to force enough air from his lungs to articulate the words. He had a knot of conflicting emotions deep in his belly that was making him nauseous, but somehow he managed to maintain his normally aloof composure. He felt unexpectedly grateful for old habits.
"How...?" the dark-haired sorceress pleaded. Her voice broke on the small syllable she had uttered and Geralt could see his confusion mirrored in her eyes, accompanied by another emotion he was afraid to contemplate. Desperation. Not a healthy emotion in a sorceress as volatile as she always was.
He inwardly cursed Flemeth. He knew she'd had something to do with this. Making him believe Yennefer had been dead all along was now the worst of her insults.
"There are a lot of things you don't know, Yennefer. A lot has happened since that day; the day we died. You do remember, don't you?" His tongue felt thick as he spoke, all the moisture having evaporated from his mouth the second the door had closed behind her.
"The day Ciri sacrificed her life for us," she said, her words clipped and harsh. "I've never forgotten it. I lost everything that day, Geralt."
Geralt nodded and his brows twitched together. She'd never forgotten, but he had. He'd forgotten everything. But he'd regained all those memories since meeting Solona. He could remember once loving Yennefer so much he thought of nothing else. He would have done anything for her then. But now... now his emotions had apparently run and hid; the memory of those feelings felt like some distant, unreachable thing. He tried to grasp at them so he could find some semblance of empathy for how she must be feeling now – how he should probably be feeling now.
They stared at each other without speaking for several moments while the conflicting feelings battled it out inside him. He could see Yennefer clearly now that his feelings for her were shrouded in a fog of memory. He could see beyond all her glamours and ploys. He remembered every little manipulation she'd wrought on him in his past that he had tolerated out of what he realized now was a misguided need to please her. He remembered everything but felt completely detached from whatever emotions had been tied to those memories.
Yennefer's face drew into a tight grimace that betrayed her emotions. With far more intuition than he could fathom she said, "You forgot."
"For a time, I did forget. When I remembered, it was already too late for us. You were dead as far as I knew." And I loved someone else.
"But I was alive, Geralt, and I still remember. I still remember your last wish," she said softly. "As though it were yesterday."
"The wish that could never be fulfilled by any force in nature? The wish you only needed me to make so you could gain control over the djinn who would grant it?"
"But it was fulfilled, and you know it. Otherwise I would have died that day. From that moment my life belonged to you. Our fates were tied together."
"Ciri freed us of the wish when she died," he said, but he knew it was a lie. He knew Ciri had brought them back to life, but believed it hadn't been Ciri who had ultimately tampered with their fates. He didn't think Yennefer needed to be aware of that detail if she wasn't already. The fact remained that they had been released from the wish. He knew he no longer had a connection, fated or otherwise, to the false beauty who stood before him.
She blanched at his statement and turned her eyes away from him, blinking rapidly. She stared out the window into the grey winter afternoon. He saw the delicate ivory flesh of her throat constrict beneath her familiar black velvet choker as she attempted to swallow her feelings. He still remembered kissing that throat, inhaling the scent of her skin. It used to drive him mad with need to think about, but now he only felt cold inside. Had their only real connection truly been the result of a wish?
The room around him abruptly felt as icy as his insides in spite of the warmth of the fire crackling nearby. He couldn't tell if he was imagining it or if she had done something to cause it. His medallion hadn't alerted him to any magic, but then he remembered having it set to detect monsters rather than magic ever since he'd begun traveling with Solona and had to endure her incessant practicing. An involuntary smile flickered across his face at the thought of her and the first "test" he'd volunteered for at her hands.
"Was that what you wanted? To be free of me?" Yennefer said. The temperature seemed to drop a few more degrees. Her eyes were on him intently again, flashing in challenge, her voice rough and quavering with emotion.
He winced at her words.
"I don't think it had anything to do with what I wanted... what either of us wanted. We never had a choice," he said.
A brief thought crossed his mind that perhaps he'd always been a slave to fate. First Yennefer, now Solona. At least with Solona he knew he had a purpose. Their connection had meaning beyond their mere feelings for each other. With Yennefer it hadn't been so straightforward. Everything about his time with her, in retrospect, seemed haphazard and disjointed. They had been two people so desperate to find something meaningful in their lives that they had perceived significance where it never really existed. The wish had only compounded their delusion.
"We belong together, Geralt," she pleaded. "We were made for each other. We were two lost souls who made each other whole. You must remember."
Her pretty heart-shaped lips almost pouted in that alluring way he remembered. He still remembered kissing them, their taste the sweetest thing to him, aside from... other parts of her. He remembered how they could rarely spend ten minutes in a room alone together before they were at each other... fighting or fucking; it never seemed to matter since the outcome was always the same. But he felt... nothing now.
The one thing he could feel was that her mood had descended into that dark place that could result in utter destruction if he wasn't careful. He may not feel anything for her now, but he still knew her very well.
He studied her for a second contemplating how much he should share with her. He needed her to understand – to accept the truth. In as gentle a tone as he could muster, he said, "That was before, Yennefer – and you have to admit our situation was never exactly idyllic. There are things I've learned recently that have changed everything. My life – my goals, are very different now than they were even a year ago. Ithlinne's prophecy..."
He was interrupted by the jingle of a bell, which startled them both. Geralt looked up and Yennefer turned to see the shop door opening. Solona's cloaked figure stepped in quickly, letting Lusa through the door before closing it tightly behind her against a howling, snowy wind. The dog immediately began growling at the figure that stood between Solona and Geralt.
"Sol," Geralt whispered, his relief at seeing her flooding through him, replacing the icy chill with warm comfort at her mere presence.
Yennefer was preoccupied with the apparent intruder. She looked down at the beast and gave Lusa a subtle sneer, then turned her sharp gaze on the dog's still hooded owner who stood before her in dark, ragged woolen traveling gear.
"Keep your beast in line, fool," Yennefer snapped. She eyed the impressive carved staff and the wicked blade that gleamed black at one end that was in clear contrast to the garb the figure wore.
Geralt and Solona both stiffened at her tone, but neither responded. Solona only made a soft shushing sound, which Lusa immediately obeyed, turning and slinking around behind Solona. He settled beside her with a watchful eye on Yennefer.
Solona said in her soft accented voice, "Am I interrupting something, Geralt?"
Yennefer's gaze shot up to Solona's shadowed face when she heard the feminine sound coming from beneath the hood, speaking so familiarly to Geralt.
Solona pushed her hood back and regarded the other woman solemnly with her narrow-pupiled golden eyes. Then both women turned their gazes on Geralt.
Geralt was still studying Solona closely, his expression concerned as he looked for any signs of mental distress. His gaze hardened again when he glanced at Yennefer who was currently staring back at him, her gradual realization becoming apparent. He cursed himself silently for neglecting to control his reaction to Solona's presence.
Solona raised an eyebrow at him when he glanced back at her. Well? Do I get an introduction?
He nodded slightly.
"Solona, this is Yennefer."
Solona stood very still, studying his face intently for several seconds. Her lips parted slightly and her eyes grew wide in disbelief.
Yennefer? She projected to him. The Yennefer? She's alive?
Yes, her. Flemeth must have fabricated a few of my memories, too. Are you surprised?
No, not really. She seems upset.
Wouldn't you be, if you'd just found out your old lover, whom you thought was dead, was actually alive?
A subtle grimace flitted across her face. He felt a surge of emotion pass through their connection and blinked trying to clear his head. Solona's staff began to glow faintly with blue-white energy.
Solona, he tried to soothe her as well as he could mentally, but could see a look of confusion in her eyes. She turned a jealous glare on the other woman. Her reaction startled him and he could see a tinge of the now familiar delirium in her eyes.
Solona, she's a sorceress. If you can truly see her, you'll understand who and what she is. Be careful. He hoped she'd take his meaning and really look so she could understand the level of power and deception the woman in front of them was capable of.
He saw Solona relax a bit. She seemed to study Yennefer, who was still busy studying them both and warily regarding the dog.
Solona blinked several times as she regarded the figure between them, and he could tell she struggled to suppress an expression of surprise when her eyes met his again.
Their exchange had only taken a few seconds. In that brief expanse of time Yennefer had apparently discerned their close connection and utter shock colored her features.
"You," she said simply, staring in disbelief at Solona. "You're a Witcher..."
Solona nodded slowly at her.
Yennefer turned to look back at Geralt, her eyes blazing. "Were you so desperate for a mate that you had to make one who could love you?" she challenged in a scathing tone.
He blinked, affronted by her accusation.
"Yennefer, it isn't like that." His tone was deliberately gentle, in stark contrast to the bitterness coming from the woman in front of him. Having always been intuitive to her moods, he was acutely aware of the pain she must be feeling and unsure how to mitigate it, but knew he needed to try. He knew how dangerous she could be when she lost her head.
"Things are different now – the world has changed, and not for the better. Surely you of all people should understand that. Look at the signs, they're as clear as anything. The prophecy, Yennefer. You remember, don't you? We're tied up in it, Solona and I. We have no choice."
She scoffed. "Right, and I suppose you're on a mission now to find the White Flame to obliterate this godforsaken winter? It's just bad weather, Geralt."
He blinked at her and his eyes met Solona's for the briefest moment. She had the look of a cornered animal and the thought tortured him. His eyes flicked back to Yennefer and realized she had the same expression. Hers was a bit more piqued than Solona's, but just as tinged with madness now. He knew he needed to handle this situation, and he needed to do it quickly before Solona's mental state handled it for him.
He saw Solona's staff begin to glow brighter, but Yennefer seemed oddly oblivious to the power the other woman was drawing in.
"Yennefer..." he began, a note of caution in his voice.
"Tell, me Geralt. Did you ever love me?" she spat out bitingly, interrupting him. "I believed you did. You used to look at me the way... the way you just looked at her." Her voice seemed to rise in pitch as emotion constricted her throat further. "I must truly disgust you now. Now that you have your Witcher whore to play with. Your very own monster-hybrid bitch to fuck."
Geralt closed his eyes against her tirade but opened them again when she ceased speaking. His expression was fierce with growing anger.
No longer interested in being considerate of her feelings he growled through clenched teeth, "You had best get out of my sight, Yennefer. No one speaks about her that way, least of all you."
Yennefer looked as though he had just slapped her. She turned quickly, her cloak and dress billowing around her, tendrils of dark curls whipping across her face. She stepped towards the door and stopped abruptly, staring daggers at the huge black dog that stood bristling and growling at her again, blocking her path.
"Get. Out. Of. My. Way. Or so help me I'll send you to fucking hell."
Solona's staff was now crackling with energy but she blinked and stood to one side, urging Lusa back with her.
A second later, there was a violent clamor of the bell as Yennefer flung the door open, then stalked through, slamming it loudly behind her.
ooOoo
The icy wind hit her like a brick when she stormed out of the shop. The door slammed behind her with a satisfying thunk that knocked snow and icicles from the eaves and left the tinkle of the shop's bell echoing eerily through the air.
She couldn't breathe. She paused for a second on the steps, holding a black-gloved hand to her chest. She struggled to find air for her lungs. Her vision had gone blurry for some reason. She staggered across the cobbles of the narrow snow-covered street and leaned her hand against the wall of another building. She gritted her teeth, trying to hold in a cry of anguish that was threatening to burst forth. She gasped for breath, finally drawing an icy draft into her lungs and holding it. Tears stung her eyes.
Geralt was alive! But who was that woman? That Witcher?
Her wildest dreams had come true the second she had walked into Ziggy's shop. But they had been replaced by her worst nightmare mere seconds later.
He was alive. He was alive. But... oh sweet Chaos, he didn't want her and the understanding had struck her like a knife plunged into her heart. He'd looked at her with all the emotion of a perfect stranger. But he'd actually looked like he loved that... that monster.
You didn't think of him as a monster, a small voice in her head chided her. No, but she knew what Witchers were. And he had been hers. Her monster.
She was unable to suppress a gasp of pain, her small anguished exhalation puffing out into the cold, snowy air, carrying the evidence of her weakness into the sky. She pressed her back against the side of the building, trying to catch her breath and staring at the cold sky.
"But I still love you," she whispered to no one, even though she really wanted to scream it to the heavens. "I loved you first. I was first."
She had to go. She couldn't stay here. They would come out soon and would see her. She couldn't show weakness. Not to anyone. Not even him. Not even him, who had already seen her at her weakest so many times she had believed she could always trust him to never hurt her. She had been so certain before that he belonged to her. She never expected...
Never expected to die? the small voice said again. Never expected for the spell to be broken?
She shook her head vigorously to dispel the thoughts. She stood up and swiped the nearly frozen tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. She could walk away in spite of the burning anguish in her chest that made her feel like her heart had turned to acid. She had to get away from him. From them.
She began walking swiftly down the steeply sloped street that led to the river. The inn where she was staying was on the waterfront. It wasn't far... she believed she could make it to her room without breaking down. As she walked, the pain in her chest began to transform into a cold rage. She couldn't let this stand. He was alive, and he belonged with her.
She made it several more steps when a thought occurred to her. She stopped and blinked. A secret smile twitched at her lips as she turned around, her mood instantly improving at her idea. She took a few steps back up the narrow street, then reached her right hand out slightly towards Geralt's horse and murmured the few soft words of a spell. There was the barest flicker of light that flew from her fingertips and raced through the air, finally alighting on the horse and washing it and Geralt's belonging in a soft glow that dissipated quickly. The horse reacted mildly, twitching her mane and tail as though there were flies buzzing about, then settled down again. She repeated the gesture to the other horse.
She nodded to herself in satisfaction. That was a start. She was sure she could find a use for it later.
He was alive. She kept repeating the phrase to herself as she made her way through the snowy streets. Hope began to swell in her for the first time in years. Surely he couldn't have been with her for very long. He had said that he'd forgotten for a time. Perhaps he just needed a reminder. That... woman... was clearly some kind of sorceress. She must have him under a spell. She just needed to get him away from her long enough to prove it to him.
She needed time to think. When she reached the inn she called for a bath and swiftly ascended the staircase up to the second floor and strode to her room.
"Get out," she snapped when she entered. A young, attractive, well-dressed man seated near the fire looked up at her from a book held on one knee. He was startled by her brusque manner. She'd traveled with him from Nilfgaard because they'd fulfilled each other's mutual needs, but she found she didn't need him any longer. Her priorities had changed.
"But... what about...?" he began to speak, his dark eyes blinking in confusion and surprise.
"Out! Our arrangement is over. I have no further need of your... assistance."
"But, Yen, you said you needed..."
"Don't ever call me that. I said, Get. Out."
He quickly grabbed his things and trudged out the door like some poor stray dog she had just kicked, his tail between his legs.
He'd served his purpose, but he had always been so cloyingly sweet to her that it occasionally disgusted her. He almost seemed to worship her sometimes, speaking useless endearments to her while she slept. Geralt had never been that weak. And men were easy enough to lure in if she needed assistance later, which she was sure she would. It was always easier if they were strangers to start with, for what she might need. She'd already spent far too much time with this one, letting him become attached.
When her bath arrived, she poured a small measure of her scented oils into it and then stripped. She sank into the hot water with a sigh and began formulating her plan.
ooOoo
Snow was beginning to fall in fat, sticky flakes when Geralt and Solona made camp that evening. They'd ridden for another few hours past the caravan and finally stopped in a secluded area near the rocky shore of a small river that fed into the much larger body of the Pontar River that snaked through the valley. The river itself was nearly iced over, but there were small patches where they could draw water. The water flowed briskly, the current constantly rattling the stones in the riverbed in a sweetly dissonant melody. There were occasional small waterfalls, and in any other season the spot they had chosen would have been ideal for a romantic picnic on a sunny afternoon, with the sun warming the expanses of large, water-worn rocks that bordered either shore of the waterway.
They hobbled the horses near the camp and Solona sent Lusa hunting, then set about clearing snow with a combination of various primal spells that left her flushing prettily. Geralt nodded with a sideways smile when she was finished.
"You're getting stronger," Geralt commented from the spot he'd found on a fallen log nearby to stay out of her way and watch her. He normally wouldn't have bothered clearing so much snow from a campsite, but he knew the process helped her, so he'd sat back and let her work.
"It's an odd feeling," she said, sitting down next to him and surveying the results of her efforts. "It's like I'm digging a well inside my mind. Each time I pull magic into me and hold it there, the well gets a little deeper and I can hold more in. It was never like this when I was first learning magic. In my world it's so much work to even access the power, and we have to be so cautious. Here, the power is just there, surrounding us all the time. I like it."
He'd heard the well analogy before from sorcerers he'd been acquainted with. He idly wondered what the resident sorcerers of Ban Ard would make of Solona if she became a student there. She was certainly adept enough to impress them even at her young age, but he understood that mages in her world began studying very young so it was no wonder how skilled she was already. It had only taken her a matter of minutes to clear the snow from their small campsite and dry the ground to prepare it for their tent.
"I never expected winter camping could be so appealing. How is it that you actually make it seem fun?"
"Anything can be fun if you have the right outlook," she said teasingly.
He raised one eyebrow skeptically at her as he stood to begin unpacking their gear and setting up the tent on the bare, dry ground she'd prepared. There was a small firepit left behind by a prior traveller and Solona began righting the stones around it and clearing it of debris.
"Okay, I'll bite. What kind of outlook would it take to make torture fun? Just for the sake of argument."
She stood up and thought for a second. "Well, that's a tricky question. I think it would depend on how futile a situation it was. Plus, how smart is the torturer? Sometimes a little pain is worth putting a moron in his place."
He grunted softly in amusement, "I take it you're speaking from experience?"
She cocked her head as she adjusted the stones around the firepit. "Yes, actually. The torture part wasn't fun. The torturer was bordering on incoherent. He was far too mentally absent to have any fun with. And believe me, I tried. But escaping was a hoot."
He paused and stared at her for a second. He'd been joking and was surprised to find that she actually did have some past experience with the subject. He wasn't sure if he was more surprised by the fact that she'd had to endure the experience or by her cavalier attitude about it. But then he remembered that she'd experienced much worse insults and began to understand.
He smiled to himself at the thought of her goading a torturer while she was on the rack. It felt a little wrong that he should feel aroused at the thought, but he didn't dwell on it.
She paused when she saw him staring at her with a slight smile on his face. He tried to suppress it.
"What are you thinking?" she asked, her mouth twitching at the corner.
He shook his head and went back to driving tent stakes. "I just had a very clear image of you verbally torturing a torturer. Somehow it doesn't surprise me in the least."
She rolled her eyes at him and shoved another stone into place around their firepit. "It wasn't exactly like that. I did taunt the man incessantly. Then he yanked out my fingernails. But he stopped when Alistair caved and told them what they thought they wanted to hear. We'd planned our answers ahead of time, and were prepared for the possibility, but he – Alistair – was in knots over it afterwards. Over me being hurt. He was always so sensitive to other people's pain... especially mine."
She seemed to grow sad as she concentrated on her task. After a moment her face lost the mournful look and she smiled and said, "But then Zev and Lusa showed up and we high-tailed it out of the prison. There were just a few casualties on the way out, but we were saved and Alistair became king that day."
Lusa chose that moment to arrive and drop a pair of dead wildfowl near the firepit. He barked and waggled his behind excitedly at the sound of his name. Her eyes lit up and she said to the dog, "Yes, you certainly saved the day that time, boy." She scratched him affectionately behind the ears. Her smile set Geralt's heart racing. The things he didn't know about her still amazed him.
She stood up and brushed her hands on her skirt, then went to hunt for firewood with her dog while he continued setting up their shelter for the evening.
When she returned she built up the fire and lit it quickly, then went to dig through her gear, looking for something.
"Geralt, I need to show you something," she said excitedly and gestured for him to follow her into the woods.
Several moments later he found himself standing on a large, flat rock behind the frozen curtain of a waterfall staring down at a dark pool of steaming water.
"We have another hour or two of daylight yet. Care for a proper bath?" she asked, grinning at him.
He realized it was a bar of her favorite soap that she held in her hand. He squatted at the edge of the pool and ran his fingers through the water. It was pleasantly hot.
"Is there a hot spring here?"
"No. Magic," she said, wiggling her fingertips so that little flames shot from their tips up into the air.
He gave her a hard look. "Don't exhaust yourself just for the sake of a bath, Solona."
She glared at him. "I'm just fine. Warming the water helped clear my head after... this morning. Besides, soaking in it will be infinitely more restorative."
His expression grew dark at the reminder. "I'm sorry you got stuck in the middle of that," he said softly, but neglected to respond to her invitation. She apparently grew impatient with his hesitance about the bath and began stripping.
"She is quite a piece of work. You said she's a sorceress, right?" she said as she unlaced her boots and pulled them off, then shimmied out of her skirt and trousers.
He nodded, but found himself distracted by the creamy skin of her bare thighs. He shook his head to refocus and met her eyes.
"She's old and powerful. And prone to fits of jealous anger. We're lucky she left without causing a scene."
Solona snorted as she unlaced the leather bodice piece of her armor and shrugged out of it.
"I'd say she did cause a scene. I was on the verge of adding to it myself. She's lucky she left when she did." She pulled her black woolen tunic off over her head and turned to step gingerly into the steaming water.
Geralt made a low sound in his throat as he watched her, his eyes tracing her graceful curves, lingering on her firm breasts, their tips sharply erect from the chilly air. She did love to test him.
"Is she older than you?" Solona asked as she settled into a smooth indentation in the rocky pool and reached for her soap and a soft cloth to begin washing. She started at her shoulders and worked her way down, slowly rubbing the soapy cloth over her skin. She seemed to pause when she reached her breasts.
He shook his head slowly and forced his eyes back up to her face, only to find her smirking at him in amusement. He scowled at her.
"You enjoy your bath, Sol. I'll see you back at camp," he said in exasperation as he stood and turned to go.
Solona's face fell. "But aren't you going to bathe, too? You are beginning to smell quite ripe, you know."
He paused and sighed deeply. "Solona, I would give anything to be able to join you, but I know if I do I won't be able to keep my hands off you. I know you feel the same way, so it baffles me why you continue to torment me the way you do."
Solona stared at him, blinking, then something seemed to dawn on her. "It's the bath isn't it... it's more difficult for you to resist. I'm sorry, Geralt. I don't know why I didn't put it together before. You always seem to have such strong self control in other situations, I didn't think it would be any different."
She was right. He had a weakness for naked, bathing beauties. Particularly her. His first dream of her flickered through his mind again for the first time in months and he realized Yennefer had appeared briefly in that dream, only to be replaced moments later by Solona's ethereal figure, and he had felt inexplicably drawn to her pale beauty.
After that morning's surreal confrontation he'd been more solicitous of her than usual, but she seemed to have recovered. Now she was clearly eager to revalidate their connection. He couldn't just walk away from her, even if it was difficult for him to be near her.
He stared at the ground then turned and strode back to her. He squatted down and reached for her cloth and soap. "Here... the least I can do is wash your back for you. I'm sure I can manage that without any undue consequences."
She smiled up at him and leaned forward, giving him access.
He settled down on his knees behind her and lathered up the cloth, then set about gently scrubbing her shoulders and back.
"Geralt, you do have a choice, you know," she said softly, almost hesitantly.
He recalled what he had said to Yennefer earlier. It hadn't occurred to him then how his words might have affected Solona.
"I don't see that I have a choice, any more than you do. Unless that choice is to let the worlds die and simply spend oblivion in each other's arms. That thought does have some appeal, I admit."
She laughed, "No, sometimes that doesn't sound so bad, especially on nights like tonight. Meditating every night leaves much to be desired, in spite of its efficiency."
He scooped water up in his hands to rinse her back, sliding his hand over her smooth skin. She shivered and he noticed her hands begin to glow red beneath the water, warming it again. He took a deep breath and stood, thinking he'd regret what he was about to do but doing it anyway.
He pulled off his boots and stripped. Her head twisted around to look at him with surprise, but she seemed pleased and didn't request an explanation. She scooted forward when he gestured to her and he slipped into the water behind her. He resisted the urge to moan in ecstasy at the feel of the hot water soaking into his travel-weary flesh. It took him a moment to acclimate to the temperature. When he did, he was surprised to find the worn indentation in the rock was just the perfect size and shape for him to rest back against comfortably. It had been worn down to a smooth curve that left room for two people to recline at a slight angle. He sank into the pool, letting the water rise up past his chest and pulled her back against him.
He handed her soap and cloth back and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her on the temple and continued their conversation.
"You and I both know that neither of us are capable of letting something like that happen, Sol. But even if the worlds weren't hanging in the balance - quite literally - I would still choose to be with you. Of course we'd have to find a way around our little predicament." He smirked as he bent his head and nuzzled at her neck. Hmm, don't get carried away being this close to her, he thought and pulled back again with a sigh.
She laughed quietly. "There are ways around it... they just aren't an option for us at the moment. Not until after..."
"I suppose not," he said mournfully. "And so we endure meditating and tortuous baths."
She laughed and began soaping up his feet, causing him to lean back and groan in pleasure.
"You're... naked..." she stated after a moment, roughly at the same time the contact of her hands on his lower legs became a bit much for him and he could no longer quash the reaction of parts that resided higher up.
"Hmm, I know. It was a tough decision, but I opted in favor of having dry breeches once we're done bathing."
"Wise choice," she said. He could hear the hint of triumph in her voice.
"Just promise me you'll behave," he said.
"Just promise me you'll bathe and we have a deal," she said with a hint of humour in her voice. She handed him the soap again.
He laughed. "Fair enough."
While he was washing, she stepped off the small ledge and plunged feet-first into the depths of the pool. He watched her disappear into the darkness and grew alarmed when she didn't reappear after a couple seconds. When she burst from the surface a moment later with a high-pitched yelp he stood up, ready to dive in and fight whatever beast might have startled her.
"What is it!"
She laughed breathlessly at his alarmed expression, "Nothing. It's just very cold down there. I don't recommend going too deep. Unless you need to cool off." She glanced meaningfully at his erection.
He scowled at her and settled down again, tossing her the soap. She'd stirred the water up enough that the cooler water from the depths of the pool was now swirling around him. It was pleasantly calming. Especially now that she was standing wet and naked right in front of him, steam from the hot water rising up off her skin. Her wet hair was slicked back and water still trickled over her perky breasts. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. While his eyes were closed he felt her settle back down between his thighs. Her breathing sounded deliberately slow and even as well, as though she were making the same effort he was.
She lathered up her hair and tossed the soap back to him before plunging again into the depths to rinse.
He pulled the binding from his hair and ducked his head quickly under the water. He held his breath for several seconds, letting the water soak him thoroughly. While he was under he could feel the water grow hot again from her magic.
He flung his head back after several seconds and began scrubbing with the soap, enjoying the cool tingle of the lather as it seeped into his skin.
The oblong pool that had been carved into the rock from the waterfall was just large enough for two people to comfortably relax in it without touching, but the far end of it had no purchase and the sides descended straight down into its cold depths. Solona treaded water at the opposite edge waiting for him to finish his own ablutions.
In a breathless voice she asked, "If it turned out that it was her you were destined to fulfill the prophecy with, would you still want to be with me?"
The question startled him and he stared at her, confused. She had averted her eyes and was staring out at the snowy forest beyond their little sanctuary.
"I..." he really had no idea how he should respond to such a question. She'd never struck him as the jealous type, in spite of her reaction earlier in the day, which he'd blamed on her mental state more than anything. Her next statement abolished any concerns he had on that measure, however.
She turned to look directly at him, her golden-eyed gaze piercing his. "Because as much as I love you, Geralt, I think if I were faced with a similar dilemma, I'm not so sure I would choose you."
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.
He thought she looked like she might cry at any moment and his heart ached to reach out to her. He gestured for her to come to him and was grateful that she responded, swimming the few quick strokes back to settle down between his thighs again. He wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her tightly.
"I just need you to know where my priorities lie, Geralt. I... I love you. Desperately. But I can't let it get in the way of what needs to be done."
"I wouldn't expect you to," he said, brushing his lips lightly against her ear. "Actually, I think I would prefer it if you didn't let your feelings for me get in the way. But I'm glad that's not an issue. Anyway, we're stuck together for good or ill, so you'd best lighten up about it." He pinched her playfully on her behind but she didn't seem to respond as she normally would. She only grew limp in his arms, which alarmed him more than any other response would have.
"Solona... are you alright?"
Her body grew rigid under his touch and her voice resonated with an odd timbre. "Others will seek to separate you. You must persevere. You must put the interloper in her place."
Her body slackened when the odd words ceased.
"Solona?"
She groaned loudly and arched her back again. "We need you..." she gasped.
"Tell me what you need," he said against her ear, alarmed at her odd reaction.
"We need... you... Wolf. Oh... Soon? Will we be free soon? We need you, Wolf. She needs you now..."
Solona's body began writhing in his arms, her pert breasts plunging up above the surface of the water. She gasped and spoke the words again. "She needs you now, Wolf."
Surely the missive didn't mean... no, he knew better than that. He wasn't about to take unnecessary risks, but feeling her naked body writhing in his arms was driving him mad with desire. He gripped one arm across her shoulders and another around her hips trying to hold her still, which only succeeded in pulling her tighter against his erection.
He had to disregard that for now. He had no choice.
"Be still, love," he said gruffly against her ear.
She was gasping for air as though she were dying but he could feel her heat and knew it was lust she was feeling. He groaned when he understood what he needed to do to break through her haze.
He kept a tight grip on her shoulders with one arm, but with the other hand he began touching her softly. He trailed his hand up her thigh and felt her almost vibrate under his touch. When his fingertips reached her sex she cried out and he almost cried out in response when she surged back against him. He found her slick and hot and groaned against her shoulder. Unable to control himself he bit down on her shoulder as his fingertips began working deftly against her soft flesh.
After a few seconds she seemed to calm and give herself over to the pleasure of his touch. He drifted his other hand lower to grip one of her breasts and teased at the tip, causing her to moan softly. He slipped two thick fingers deep inside her. Her response burned itself into his brain.
"Oh, Geralt. I love you."
"I love you," he murmured into her ear as she writhed against his fingertips, but he knew what he was doing was working. He could feel her pleasure escalating under his touch, but kept steady, knowing instinctively that she would be more satisfied – and more lucid – if he didn't rush her.
He nestled his lips in the familiar spot behind her ear as he continued to tease his fingers along her flesh. She moaned a small objection when he ceased his previous pattern and he resumed it immediately with greater fervor.
"You like that most?" he murmured to her and enjoyed the small eruption of pleasure when he increased the particular motions she'd enjoyed with more enthusiasm.
"Yes!" she gasped. "Don't stop."
Her orgasm was violent and sudden, taking him by surprise. The water around them seemed to heat up a few degrees and her scream echoed off the rocks around them. He cried out loudly in sympathy, then grabbed her and held her close. It no longer mattered to him that his cock was engorged to the point of distraction. He just wanted to make sure she'd stepped back from the precipice she'd been perched on earlier with her strange words.
She lay gasping in his arms for several moments while he gently stroked her wet hair away from her face.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She chuckled softly. "You mean to ask 'am I sane' right? That I can't really say with all honesty lately, but at the moment I am lucid at least. Thanks to you and your magical fingers." She smiled up at him suggestively and stood up.
"You're going to hurt tomorrow..." she said, studying him with concern.
"Nothing I haven't dealt with before, at least of late," he said.
She stepped out of the water and shivered as she began dressing.
"You don't... relieve yourself?" she asked hesitantly.
He gave her a perplexed look as he followed her out and began putting on his own clothes. Was she really asking him that question? Should he even be surprised?
"I do if I feel I need to."
"And that wasn't enough for you to 'need to'?"
He shot her an irritated glance. "Actually, that was precisely the kind of situation that makes me want to throw myself in front of a canon to mitigate the frustration. Since you ask. Simply 'relieving myself' doesn't really do it justice."
She seemed shocked by his response. He felt a little smug that he'd struck her speechless for a change, which was an incongruous feeling considering he'd prefer to throw her down on the snow and have at her for the next hour or two. He watched her dress and was surprised he could resist that urge. Instead he just grumbled incoherently and pulled on his boots, then stalked back to their camp.
ooOoo
The images on the surface of the water flickered to darkness and the sounds of their voices faded. Yennefer sat back from the darkened basin, an expression of confusion on her face.
At first when she had begun spying on the two of them, she'd felt hurt and angry at the apparent comfort they felt in each other's company. They behaved as though they'd been together for years and could wordlessly anticipate each other's needs at any moment. She didn't think she and Geralt had ever managed to get to that point. They'd pushed each other away too frequently to really even become comfortable together.
As she continued to watch them, she noticed that they seemed to have a playful rapport with each other that reminded her of how Geralt had behaved with his brother Witchers when she'd seen them together. It made her wonder – hope, even – whether this woman was really his lover and not something else entirely. Just another Witcher that he happened to be traveling with? But as she watched more, she realized how wrong she was.
The bath had been an unexpected contrast to their other interactions. Now, as she thought back through what she had witnessed, she realized that they never touched each other, and seemed to keep a cautious distance at all times. Geralt's hesitance about the bath had been the biggest anomaly. She knew him. That wasn't the sort of invitation he would turn down without good reason, yet he had resisted.
The Witcher woman... Solona... hadn't looked like she'd intentionally been taunting him. She just seemed innocently oblivious of the torture she was causing him. But not completely. It seemed like she had some idea, yet she still did it, as though she were playfully testing him. Yennefer had to admit she admired the woman's tenacity, even though she seemed very young and foolish. Yennefer secretly enjoyed watching Geralt struggle and then finally give in to the urge to join the other woman in the bath.
Once that happened his feelings became crystal clear to her. He loved that woman. She felt icy cold tendrils seep up into her belly when she saw him touch her with such tenderness and whisper words to her that made her smile. Not only did he love her, but Yennefer could read in his eyes that he wanted her desperately. Yet he never touched her unless she invited it. He continued to restrain himself for some reason and she became certain the reason must be the key to reclaiming him. She needed to find out what it was.
She was also fairly certain that he must be enthralled by this woman if he was so controlled around her. It became even clearer when he pleasured her without even attempting to seek pleasure for himself. The only incongruity was how anguished he looked in the process. If he were enthralled, she would expect him to be taking pleasure out of the act of pleasing her, but this clearly wasn't the case, particularly if their exchange after the fact were any indication. He'd stalked off looking put out about the entire ordeal, leaving his Witcher lover standing and blinking in confusion.
None of it made any sense. They behaved as lovers, except they clearly weren't fucking. She supposed she could use that small detail to her advantage.
The strangest thing was how the woman had seemed to enter a trance at one point and began spouting nonsense. She'd evoked a memory of Ciri and her strange, semi-prophetic episodes. Ciri's voice had had a similar resonance in those moments. But the words this woman said didn't sound like prophecy to her. They sounded more like premonition. It occurred to her that this woman might be a Source and she understood why Geralt might have been drawn to her. That might complicate things, but she thought she could deal with that.
She would have to find a way to separate them, if only for a short period. She hoped if she could get Geralt alone again to talk – get him away from her – she might be able to... do what, exactly? Enthrall him yourself? There are no djinns handy for wishes, fool. No, but she had seen how he'd looked at her before she had walked in and interrupted. She had seen his eyes lingering at her neck, on her mouth. She knew he remembered their time together. She just need a chance to fully remind him of how much he had enjoyed those moments. Once she did, she felt certain he'd be eating out of the palm of her hand once again.
