A/N
Enjoying the fic? Well then, here's another chapter for you! I'm feeling rather excited after my midterm results came back, and in celebration of a job well done ( after spending so many sleepless nights prepping for online exams ) I decided to post another update.
Thanks for all the support, I really appreciate it, enjoy :)
}!{
Victory was theirs.
The king led the march through the city streets personally with his triumphant knights and soldiers in tow for a parade, held to uplift the spirits of the uncertain and give courage to the hearts of the fearful. They came through the eastern gate and were met with the people of Cintra crowding the streets and filling the rooftops as they cheered for the returning valiant defenders of their great city, they heaped and tossed flowers to cover the cobblestones, spreading accolades in honor of Dagorad and his men.
Geralt and Vandal were brought to ride alongside the king so he could put them on display for the crowds to see, the champions of their fair city and vanquishers of the undead threat. The siege had been broken before it escalated into something worse, and Dagorad made sure that those who aided in the city's defense were to be amply rewarded for their efforts. Enris and his mercenaries enjoyed all the fanfare and attention they got, as did the knights who survived their battle with the undead summoner. Geralt and Vandal, however, shared a great reluctance for all the praise heaped at their feet.
The witcher hated crowds, the knight from Saggrel preferred quiet solitude. The former wished the affair would be concluded quickly and his coin be delivered into his hands, while the latter bore the attentions of the people with a fake smile as he wanted to just disappear and rejoin the ladies under his care. They made quite the pair amidst those so accustomed to pomp and pride.
They marched a ways before finally stopping at the foot of the large stairs leading into the main palace courtyard, just beneath the archway formed by two towering lions of marble locked in perpetual combat as they reared up on their hind legs and clawed at the air facing each other. Dagorad stopped and turned around, raising his hands to call for silence as the crowds pressed in to hear him speak.
"Good people of Cintra, I've promised to keep you safe!" He said proudly, his voice carrying across the streets and reaching everyone's ear. "And thanks to these brave souls, I have kept that promise. Behold Geralt of Rivia, the mighty witcher! Behold Vandal, an outworlder, who raised his arm in our defense! Cheer for them, they who came in our hour of need, and all the noble warriors of the Royal Army who fought this day- as they've vanquished the undead hammering at our door!"
The people roared in agreement, making Geralt wince as his sensitive ears rang with the cries of jovial voices, and tried to blot out the deafening clamor. He didn't care about the king's praise of his efforts, the general opinion about witchers would remain unchanged. They'd see him as a hero for now, but come the next day they would return to the same old spiteful whispers and suspicious side glances. He'd tolerate it all for the coin the king promised him, nothing more.
"And let us praise the valiant dead, who gave their lives in service of the crown and of the kingdom." The king solemnly added, "Let their names be carved upon the walls of the Eastern Gate, let them forever be immortalized in solid stone. And tonight, let us make merry, for tomorrow we strike back against this menace!"
Again the people cheered, but Vandal found the king's last sentence to be a tad disconcerting. The war was not over.
"You fought well out there today." The witcher said to him as they stood behind the king.
"Thank you." Vandal said modestly, "You were pretty good with those swords too."
It was part of his trade. A witcher must master steel and silver, as he would master himself. They were, however, but tools, for the witcher himself was the weapon.
"Come with me, both of you." Dagorad told the witcher and the knight, leaving the others for the Lord Protector to handle. "Your rewards await, as well as my parting words."
Dagorad led the way at the head of a small crowd of attendants, guardsmen and pages. Their practiced hands removed and disarmed the king while he walked without even losing a step, and they saw to it that they dabbed, wiped and powdered the monarch on his way through the gates of the palace. The monarch only had to clap his hands twice, and the crowd dispersed with the king's armor and swords, leaving only his company of guards with him along with the pair.
The persistent scowl returned to Geralt's face when he realized there was going to be another task for him, but said nothing of it as he knew it was probably going to be worth the effort. Cintra's coffers were rich with coin now that Dagorad practically eliminated the substantial debt his incompetent predecessor had brought upon the crown, and he was the one who encouraged building up trade relations with the neighboring kingdoms that introduced many years of plenty for Cintra.
Besides, 6000 gold crowns could only go so far. More money was always good.
"Ahh..." Dagorad sighed as he finally sat down on a cushioned chair in one of the empty corridors, provided for him by his attendants. He preferred to handle the matter there and then, with as much comfort as he could afford. "Now, let's not mince words and get on with it, shall we?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way." Geralt grunted.
"Let's start with you, Vandal." Dagorad was handed a document to be signed along with a chest brought forward by some squires. The ornate box had the seals of Cintra carved into its wooden surface, with the roaring twin lions holding up the lock in the middle. The king busied himself with writing his name with the inked quill while at the same time beckoning for Vandal to speak, "You mentioned you were a knight?"
"Yes, sire."
"And you've come from another world, correct?" Dagorad paused to point at the very faint outline of the wandering world in the Continent's skies, "That world, that you've named as Saggrel."
"Yes, I have."
"Witcher, here is your gold." Dagorad motioned for the chest to be pushed in Geralt's way, then returned to questioning the knight. "I'm afraid I find myself in a position of asking more on your part, a service in the form of sharing information. As I've learned in my relatively short time as king, information makes all the difference in sound action, and there is a great lack of that in this case. A war has come to the Continent, one that could threaten not only Cintra but everyone in the land- everyone who lives."
"I must confess, all I know is how to kill the undead, good king." Vandal blurted, feeling a little overwhelmed by the responsibility thrust his way. "Any more than that, I fear I may not be of much use to you."
"Nonsense." Dagorad brushed aside the man's protests, "You've lived in that world all your life, your mind has stored more than you know, only time and effort can unlock those secrets- both of which I shall ask to be generously lent from you. Sir Vandal, if you'd permit me to call you as such, I know that you hold no allegiance to me or Cintra but I dare to assume that there is a sense of honor in you that so many of my knights lack these days."
The king was on the right track, Vandal did love being a knight and held the values that made one in high regard.
"Even if honor is not enough, I'm more than prepared to compensate in other areas." He added. "This I offer you, in exchange for your aid in this war raging at our doorstep."
"Honor is enough, Your Grace." Vandal made quite the sight as he bent the knee before the king, making Geralt grimace in disgust. Vandal didn't care for the witcher's opinion at the time, his heart was swollen with pride at the call of duty. This was the highest honor a knight could ever ask for, to have the king's favor. "I have blundered about, hollow in purpose and could barely uphold my knighthood, but now that changes. Yes, this day I shall pledge my sword in service to the King of Cintra and become a knight in your courts. Permit me to renew my vows as I call you my liege."
The witcher felt like a tortoise retreating into its shell, and he looked away wishing he were miles out of the palace. Watching the young knight professing his newfound loyalties like a lovestruck bard would serenade a blushing lass was torturous.
"Grand, but perhaps you can recite those vows later." The king said with a grateful smile as he rose up, bidding the knight to rise with him. "There is a time for formalities and a time for rest- and this is the hour of rest for me." He handed Vandal the document he'd signed, "Here, this is an official document of your title and the property I've set apart for you and whoever you choose to live with you."
Vandal was astonished, "W-What does this mean, sire?"
"You're my champion now, boy." Dagorad explained, placing a firm hand on Vandal's shoulder. "And no champion of mine shall wander the earth desolate and without a proper home like some vagabond or beggar. A steward of mine shall join you shortly to guide you to your estate, and in the meantime..." The king stopped to yell for one of the pages to fetch him his personal armorer. "...see about getting yourself some decent armor. I must tell you, that piece of junk you're wearing does you no justice."
"Y-Yes, my king." Vandal grinned like an idiot, "Thank you."
"No." Dagorad replied, "Thank you, Sir Vandal. I would have you join us in the banquet feast in the palace. Fret not about the timing, I shall send for you when all is ready."
"I will be there, my lord." Vandal promised.
"Good, good! And you, witcher?" The king turned to Geralt, "Will you join us this evening as well?"
"I mean no offense by saying this, but I despise banquets and social gatherings." Geralt replied bluntly.
Dagorad showed that his pride was made of thick skin, and he did not take the witcher's words the wrong way. "Oh, then it's a good thing that this is not a just any social gathering. You have my word that if you should come, I will keep the guests at bay and we shall discuss business only."
Seeing that he was still unsure, Dagorad added. "I shall also arrange for some of the finest wines, not the vile sludge that so frequents the taverns on the road, but the imported ones from Toussaint."
"Mhmm." Geralt purred. Who could refuse a night of revelry with free food and free drinks?
"I shall take that as a sign of affirmation." Dagorad turned around to see the most beautiful woman in all the Continent waiting for him at the threshold of the palace entrance.
This was Queen Adalia, known to all the kingdom as The Seer and wife to King Dagorad. Beside her stood young Calanthe, the young lion cub, who ran to jump into her father's arms. No matter how many times her mother tried to instill propriety in the child, Calanthe was still her father's daughter and she was always one to act on impulse like Dagorad.
Geralt hefted the chest of gold onto his shoulder without much trouble, and Vandal stepped back to let the king enjoy his time alone with his family. Both of them knew when it was time to make themselves scarce.
Vandal waited for the page to return so he could select his new armor at the king's behest, they both went their separate ways, with the witcher heading for a place to better stash his coin for the night. The knight went back to fetch his lovely companions out of the rabble after replacing his wrecked and battle-scarred armor, but only where it mattered most.
Arriving at the armory, the royal armorer helped him choose a new layer of chainmail and a fresh set of steel-plate pauldrons to match the shining silver-colored links. Vandal kept the weathered but sturdy breastplate that held his former liege's crest, the symbol of the oroborosine serpent, as the piece held much sentimental value to the young knight. He was also given studded leather padding to replace the ripped and torn tabard hanging beneath his breastplate. Finally, a gold and silver lion-shaped helmet with the fanged maw serving as its visor.
Indeed, it was true of what the king said about him looking the part of a knight of Cintra. But even with that great honor bestowed on him, Vandal was still a knight of Saggrel. If he was to be the only memory of his world, he would do all he can to bring honor to Anres' name, he owed his old mentor that much.
"Wait a moment." The armorer said as the knight turned to leave, "Every knight of Cintra must have a good blade with them. Let me fetch one for you."
"A sword easily on hand?" Vandal chuckled, "Forgive me, I'm just surprised that you've prepared a good stock of weapons ahead of time."
"It's not because of you." The armorer, an old balding man with a braided beard and graying hair, replied gruffly as he returned with a fine looking steel sword and a matching sheath. "Knights come and go as easily as soldiers these days, so there's never a shortage of need for more swords to be handed out to those sworn in."
Vandal stared at him, unnerved by the similarly callous nature of things even there in the heart of Cintra. Apparently, it was the same everywhere, with life expectancy and all that.
"What, you didn't think anyone grows old in that profession, do you?" The armorer said. "Take comfort in the fact that on your death in the battlefield, your armor and weapons would yet serve purpose as I'll be melting them down to forge anew."
Vandal quickly left the armory after that, not wishing to let the older man's brutal honesty ruin the mirth of that day.
Serah and Sandy huddled together next to the cart on the cobblestone street, awaiting Vandal's return amongst many other refugees in the shelter district reserved for them by the king. They had not become part of the parade, as they had given no aid in the defense of the city, so they were swept aside.
Those moments they spent alone with nothing but themselves and their meager belongings were among the most harrowing and fearful moments of their lives. As opposed to their travels through the wilderness heading to Cintra, the unfamiliar sights and surroundings of the city brought much uncertainty. The comfort of familiarity afforded by Amendale was something they preferred to this, but the town they once lived in was long gone- claimed by the madness of the undead scourge.
Now, they had to fend for themselves as Vandal had been taken away to the king's palace without them. It was a horrid transition of life, as they felt like they were little more than beggars, with little possessions left to their name. Women left alone were easy prey, and Serah could already see the leering predatory eyes of cutthroats and thugs lurking in the shadows of the shelter district. Hideous pockmarked faces, with dead eyes like those of a fish's that raked their gaze across their sumptuous forms, and grinning maws with ugly rotted teeth.
The raven-haired woman clutched the handle of her dagger tightly and flashed a warning with a defiant glare of her own. It would suffice for the moment to dissuade them from committing something vile, but not enough to hold them for long.
All her life growing up with Sandy, it had always been up to her to defend the both of them. Being a whore had its own dangers, and Serah had to quickly learn the basics of knifeplay. She was determined this time not to fail in her defense as easily as she had with Rostchild and Kostin. Should trouble rear its ugly head once more, she would surely strike to kill.
"Where could he have gone?" Sandy whispered as she hugged her friend close.
"I don't know, but he'll be back soon." Serah replied, not entirely sure herself, but lying about it nonetheless to comfort Sandy. "I'm sure of it."
They waited some more for about an hour or two, and it became clear that Sandy's faith was slowly fading away. "He won't be back for a pair of tavern wenches like us. I suppose we can be grateful that he brought us this far."
"To what, to become prey for the wolves?" Serah hissed, "Where is that coinpurse of his?"
Sandy sighed, "Don't worry, I hid it in between my breasts."
"Good thinking." Serah rubbed her friend's shoulder and pulled the fur covering tighter around the both of them. "Keep it safe, we will need that coin if we're to survive out here."
The sound of hooves clopping through the street caused the both of them to look up. They saw a knight in armor that glistened brightly when the light of the sun struck its polished surface, who wore the bristling face of a lion upon his helm. The knight stopped when he approached the cart where Serah and Sandy took shelter in, then dismounted. He took of his helmet, revealing the smiling handsome face that they've come to intimately know.
"Vandal?" Serah got up slowly and let the furs fall from her shoulders. Sandy stared wide-eyed and with a slackened jaw. All of a sudden, the wolves were gone. The lion knight held his bristling helm tucked tight under his arm, the other extended in greeting, beckoning for the women to come with him.
"My ladies, come." Vandal offered, "Mount the horse that I might take you to a better place, far from this squalor."
Serah and Sandy exchanged glances, giggled as they hoisted themselves up to sit together atop the saddle. They cared little for the prying eyes that watched them, as they were now back in the protection of the knight. Vandal pulled the reins and guided the horse through the streets, further into the city to bring them all into the property signed by the king in his name.
When they left, the refugees looted the cart they abandoned and fought over the assortment of clothes and other items therein.
It felt like a dream. Neither Serah nor Sandy could believe it as they walked through the gates of the fine estate.
The gates of black iron had vines running along the grand entrance, a natural decoration of vibrant colors to please the eye. The estate itself was not terribly large in size, but it was still huge when compared to the one the ladies had grown accustomed to. Walls of gray stone and red brick, with doors of sturdy oak, large rooms with their respected furniture to compliment them.
Vandal allowed them to explore his house, a home that he planned to share with them. After all they've given up for a chance to live, to offer them this new life brought him great joy for he himself had little need for material possessions. Vandal took pleasure in seeing the smiles on their faces, even though he never truly knew them on a personal level. Still, it was genuine goodness out of his heart, there was never anything wrong with that.
A veritable palace as opposed to the hovel they used to live in.
Serah slowed in her pace as she went from room to room, up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Sandy was already throwing doors open, and she eagerly took in the collection of clothes that hung from the wardrobes, the shoes from the cabinet and the cosmetics in the powder room. Serah's smile was fading as her heart searched for an answer for such generosity.
"Vandal?" She asked him after taking in the sights of the city from the upstairs balcony.
The knight approached her and took his place by her side. He noticed the uncertainty in her face and the hesitance in her voice. Thinking that she found no favor in his generosity, he asked her what was wrong. "Do you not find everything to your liking, my lady?"
"No, it's not that." Serah replied, turning around to face him. It was the worst of times to ask this now, but she already set the ball rolling, now she had to finish what she started. "I'm just wondering, why all this? I mean, I can appreciate a man's generosity as the next girl but this...this is so..."
Her voice trailed away, and it took a long while before she could find the right words. These were sincere words, not the ones she normally used to tug at a man's heartstrings or twist his thoughts into aligning with her wants and desires. "It's just that you've already done so much for us. Why give us all this?"
Vandal leaned on the balcony and replied, "Is it hard to believe that I simply want to share my good fortunes with the both of you?" His smile broadened, "My obligations extend far beyond just protecting you, Serah. To both of you. I suppose that should suffice as an answer."
There was truth in that, there was something beyond just their affairs of passion and convenience. Serah wondered what would happen if she went with it the way it was going to, to grow beyond just seeing Vandal as a tool. He was her guard-hound, but he could be so much more. She decided to tell him that, even though she knew it might be risky for her and Sandy.
Serah put her arms around Vandal's neck and looked him in the eyes, letting him know that her words were true. "There's a reason why I went with you that night in Amendale. Same reason as I'm asking now. You could've left us alone, you had many a chance, but you never did. You're unlike any man I've met in my life."
She gave the corner of his lip a little peck, "For once, I feel more than just a tavern wench to warm your bed. You make me feel like a woman worth fighting for."
Growing up in a world where society subsequently broke down over the years following a world-killing cataclysm, where nobility and titles meant little to nothing, Vandal could care less about the kind of life she once led. In a life that could easily be snuffed out in a second, when one formed a bond with another it was very hard to break. "Your words are kind, my lady, and they are true. You may not be a princess, but you give this young heart a reason to beat, that is all that matters to me."
Serah felt her heart flutter again and her cheeks burn. The young man stumbled over with the right words, worthy of a poet's song.
"Do you hear that, Sandy?" She giggled, "The good knight's heart beats for us."
"Um...us?" Vandal inquired, glancing to the side to see Sandy sauntering out to join them in the balcony.
"If you haven't noticed, Sandy and I share everything." Serah's eyes gleamed with mischief as she tugged at the straps of the man's armor. "And I mean everything."
"Is your heart big enough to fit me in as well?" Sandy breathed a mocking whine in his ear. "Selfish Serah, tsk tsk. Has she been hogging you all to herself?"
The two vixens pulled Vandal into the bedroom and shoved him onto the soft mattress.
"Hope that heart holds up well, Sir Vandal." Serah purred as she wiggled and slipped out of her dress, joining Vandal in bed to thank him for his generosity with a little bit of generosity herself. "You'll need all its strength for what we're going to do to you."
A loud crash of a bunch of coins hitting the floor brought the rush of the moment to a screeching halt, and Vandal peered behind Serah to look at a mortified Sandy as she stood surrounded by scattered golden crowns- his crowns. One coin rolled around in a wide circle, before bumping into the wall and clattering as it rolled into a stop on the floor.
Vandal's brow arched at this, his look of disapproval demanding an explanation from the furiously blushing Sandy. Looking rather sheepish now, the blonde undressed herself and quickly climbed into bed with them, offering a kiss as an apology.
The incident was soon put behind them as the three unleashed all their frustrations in one afternoon of unrestrained passion, which tested the knight's endurance harder than any battle could ever do.
}!{
CD Projekt Red taught us gamers you can't have both. To that I say, "Hah!"