Hell Hath Frozen Over
Chapter 11
It was hours past midnight before Geralt finally trudged back to his room at the Chameleon, and he couldn't remember the last time that he'd felt so lousy.
'You really are your own worst enemy,' he thought to himself. 'At least when it comes to women, you are.'
Earlier in the evening, things had been going so well. Dandelion and Priscilla's party had been wonderful – with good food and drink, great friends, and, perhaps most importantly, Vivienne by his side. It had been years since he'd felt so content. In fact, the truth was that he'd maybe never felt so at peace. He could no longer deny that he felt tremendous affection for the golden-haired woman from Toussaint. And then Yennefer had arrived at the cabaret, and everything had turned to shit. He hadn't meant for it to happen, and he'd even tried to stop it, but once Ciri and Yen showed up, they – well, Ciri - had monopolized all his time and focus.
Geralt hadn't seen his ward in years. After the events with the Wild Hunt, Ciri had decided to follow Emhyr back to Nilfgaard. The plan was for the emperor – her biological father - to groom her to become the empire's next ruler. If the witcher was honest, then he had to admit that her decision had hurt him greatly at the time. Even though he'd understood why she'd made that choice, it had still felt like a betrayal. As if she was picking Emhyr over him despite the fact that he – and not the emperor – had been the one to love her and raise her from the time that she was a little girl. What had stung the most was when she'd referred to Emhyr as her 'father.' He'd put on a stoic face that day in White Orchard when they'd said goodbye, but the pain had been deep. Those feelings of betrayal had lessened in the intervening years, but, even so, he'd never once traveled south to visit her since then. For he knew that he'd never be welcomed – or feel comfortable - at Emhyr's court. Thus, their only communication had been a few letters back and forth. But when Ciri, with tears in her eyes, had walked up to him at the party and hugged him tightly, it was as if none of that had ever happened. Or, rather, maybe it was just that, in that moment, he'd simply forgiven her, letting those lingering feelings of betrayal finally disappear.
But while Geralt had been genuinely happy to see Ciri, the same couldn't have been said with regards to Yennefer. Being in the presence of his former love had made him feel nothing but awkward and uncomfortable. Even in the best of times, the raven-haired sorceress could be difficult. So, how she might possibly act once she'd discovered his romantic interest in Vivienne had filled his stomach with dread.
After a curt greeting from her, he'd said, "I'm surprised you're here, Yen. I wasn't aware that you and Dandelion were so close that you'd want to attend his wedding."
"Yes, well, what you're not aware of, Geralt, would fill a cathedral. And I'm not friends with the pompous twit, but Ciri actually means something to me. So, when she asked that I accompany her, I put aside my own feelings to be there for her."
The witcher had known her remark had been a rebuke. For unlike him, Yennefer had relocated south to Nilfgaard in order to be with Ciri.
Once they all got back to the table on the second floor, Geralt had introduced Ciri and Yennefer to Vivienne. Though, he had only introduced her as his 'friend.' And at that point, for the next couple of hours, almost all of his time and energy had been taken up by Ciri, catching each other up on their lives. To make matters worse, when they'd sat down at the table, Ciri had taken his seat on the bench, leaving him sandwiched in between her and Yennefer with Vivienne sitting on the other side of Ciri. He'd done his best to involve Vivienne in their conversation, but he realized now that he'd done a piss-poor job of it. So poor, in fact, that he'd noticed that Vivienne had simply joined in the conversations with others at the table. And, then, before he knew it, she was biding a 'goodnight' to everyone at the party.
"Have a good evening, Geralt," she'd said, giving him a small, sad smile. "Talk to you tomorrow?"
He'd stood and said, "Yes, of course. After the morning rehearsal. Just like we planned."
He'd actually wanted to spend the entire night with her. His plan had been to ask her back to his room after all the festivities were over, but with the arrival of Ciri and Yennefer, that plan had gone to hell. And with his former lover sitting right there, he'd felt way too awkward to give her kiss goodnight, even one on the cheek.
Eventually, Dandelion and Priscilla's party ended, but the night was far from finished. Geralt had arranged for a bachelor party in one of the private suites at the Passiflora where he, Dandelion, and all the males spent several more hours smoking pipes, playing cards, being served drinks by scantily clad women, and telling all of the tales that hadn't been appropriate earlier at the cabaret while in mixed company. But, even then, with Yennefer no longer around, he hadn't been able to truly enjoy himself because, the entire time, he'd been thinking of Vivienne and the hurt look on her face when she'd said goodnight earlier. He berated himself because he knew that he'd messed things up. He should have told Ciri to move so that he could have sat next to Vivienne. And he should have done a better job of bringing her into their conversation.
Now, as he climbed the stairs to his room at the Chameleon, he desperately wanted to knock on Vivienne's door and ask her to forgive him, but, given that it was the middle of the night, he knew that it was too late to do so. He'd just speak with her tomorrow after the morning wedding rehearsal at the Lebiodan temple. Hopefully, she'd be understanding and would still want to spend the day with him.
oOo
All was right in the world. It was a crisp autumn morning as Vivienne and the white wolf frolicked in the meadow, the sun bathing everything in a golden glow. The two of them took turns chasing each other through the lush grass and colorful flowers while a nearby golden oriole filled the air with its beautiful melodies. Vivienne couldn't help but laugh out loud as she ran around the glade, the wolf barking and playfully nipping at her heels.
Eventually, out of breath, she said, "Enough! Enough! I've got to cool down."
She bent down on one knee, and the wolf approached and nuzzled her cheek with his snout, which made her smile.
"Let's get a drink," she said, and then they walked over to the small, clear pond where she knelt down and cupped the cool water in her hands to drink.
Once she was done, she gazed at the wolf next to her. He had his head down, lapping up the refreshing liquid. Even now, she was still awed by his size, and deep down, she was still aware that, if he wanted, he could easily hurt her. But she knew that he wouldn't. She trusted him completely. She reached over and gently ran her hands over his foreleg. He didn't flinch or whine at all. She nodded her head in satisfaction at that. Due to her care, his injured leg had completely healed. A moment later, he lifted his head and peered into her eyes for a second before stepping close and nuzzling her cheek again.
"Thank you," she said with a smile. "And you're welcome. I'm glad that I could help you."
At that point, Vivienne changed position so that she was sitting cross-legged on the ground. Immediately, the wolf laid down next to her and rested his huge head in her lap. She scratched him behind the ears and rubbed her fingers through his hair, and almost instantly, the large beast closed his eyes, his entire body relaxing at her touch.
Vivienne lost track of time as the two of them stayed right there, just enjoying each other's company. When she rested her hand on the wolf's side, she could feel his heart beating powerfully in his chest. That sensation – along with his slow breathing – was very soothing so she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. As she exhaled, a smile came to her face because she'd never felt so content.
But, suddenly, a crack of thunder shook the meadow, startling both her and the wolf. She immediately opened her eyes to see dark clouds forming overhead and obscuring the sun, and a moment later, she heard the shrill, harsh croak of a nearby bird. She knew at once that it was not the sound of the golden oriole.
"Caw caw caw!" came the unpleasant cry again.
She immediately looked in the direction of the noise and saw a large, black raven giving chase to the yellow bird. The oriole was flapping its wings quickly, doing its best to avoid the black bird's attack. Vivienne noticed that flying right next to the raven was a smaller, chirping bird – what appeared to be a blue and white swallow. A second later, the oriole flew away towards the west, at which point, the raven returned to the meadow, alighting on the branch of a nearby tree.
"Caw caw!" croaked the black bird.
The wolf barked back at it, but to Vivienne's ear, it didn't sound like a bark of anger.
Instantly, the raven flapped its wings and flew straight at Vivienne. Her eyes widened in fear, and she raised her hands to protect her face, but the bird never attacked. It simply flew in circles above her and the wolf, letting loose with its harsh croaks the entire time. The wolf barked and leapt in the air trying to catch the bird but to no avail. A moment later, the raven flew away out of the meadow, and the wolf immediately gave chase.
"No! Don't leave!" Vivienne cried out. "Come back!"
The wolf stopped in his tracks and looked back at her, but only for a second. The raven cawed loudly again, bringing his focus back onto it, and then they were both gone, disappearing into the dense, dark forest.
"Don't go!" Vivienne shouted out, and her cry of anguish woke her from the nightmare.
She sat up in bed, her heart pounding and filled with a sense of despair.
"It was just a dream," she whispered to herself as she brought her hand to her chest. "Just a dream."
But, then, the memory of the night before came flooding into her mind. She remembered how strangely Geralt had acted upon hearing the love song about his and Yennefer's relationship. And she remembered how things had changed between them as soon as the beautiful raven-haired sorceress and Ciri had arrived at the party. He'd suddenly had no more time for her. And she realized, then, that maybe it wasn't just a dream after all.
oOo
Geralt arrived at the Temple of Lebioda to find the wedding party talking in excited whispers. He scanned the front foyer of the temple but didn't see Dandelion anywhere. A moment later, he let out a little sigh and thought, 'What now?' as a frantic Priscilla quickly approached him.
"What did he do now?" he asked before she could even get out a word.
"Nothing. This time."
"Then, where is he? Obviously, something's wrong."
"You won't believe it, but last night, Dessau Hall – where we were going to hold tonight's reception – burnt to the ground."
"You're kidding."
"No. Mr. Dessau came by the cabaret this morning and gave us the news. The entire building and everything in it is completely destroyed."
"So, where's Dandelion?"
"He went out in search of another banquet hall. He said he'd come here as soon as he'd made arrangements. But there's no way he'll be able to find one. Not on such short notice."
"Why not just have it at the Chameleon?"
"Never in a million years would my father by okay with that," she said, shaking her head. "I'm surprised he even set foot in it the other day."
Suddenly, tears came to her eyes.
"I can't believe it, Geralt. After everything we've been through…now this. It's almost as if the gods don't want us to get married."
He gave a her a quick side-hug.
"We'll figure something out, okay?"
She didn't say anything. She simply nodded her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks. It was then that her mother called her name, causing her to sigh and break their hug.
"I better go see what they want. But I'm sure it's just to complain some more. After everything that happened yesterday – finding out Dandelion got me pregnant out of wedlock, and with what went down at the Golden Sturgeon - they're even less thrilled about me marrying him."
He watched Priscilla walk over to where her family was standing in a tight circle, speaking in hushed tones. And then his eyes moved over to another group, and he immediately recognized them as some of Dandelion's kin. He figured they must have just gotten into the city, either late last night or early this morning. He didn't know them well, but he'd met them a few times over the course of his friendship with the bard, and he was just about to go over and say hello when he saw Priscilla's sister approaching him – which caused him to sigh inwardly. He remembered how flirtatious she'd been a couple of days past at the cabaret when she'd found out that he was both a knight and a landowner. He hadn't been receptive to her advances then, and that had been before he'd developed feelings for Vivienne. So, he certainly didn't want to have to deal with her now.
Surprisingly, though, as she walked his way, she wasn't wearing a flirtatious smile but, rather, a hostile-looking scowl.
"Good morning, Lois," he said. "How are you?"
"Is that all you've got to say for yourself?"
Geralt cocked an eyebrow at her response. There was no mistaking it now. She definitely wasn't please with him for some reason, which was fine with the witcher. At least that meant she wouldn't be coming on to him.
"It's a beautiful day for a wedding. How's that?"
"I heard about what happened yesterday," she hissed.
"You'll have to be more specific, Lois. Because a lot happened yesterday. So, I'm not exactly sure what you mean."
Geralt didn't think it possible, but the scowl on her face deepened, making her face look even more pinched.
"Quentin told us what happened. You threatened him. A man of integrity who simply went to defend Priscilla's honor against that despicable friend of yours."
Geralt looked over Lois' head to see Priscilla in a heated discussion with her father. His face was red, and he was angrily pointing in several directions.
'Dandelion, you must really love this woman,' he thought to himself with a small shake of his head. 'If you're actually willing to marry into this family.'
"Have you got nothing to say for yourself, you…you scoundrel?" Lois asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Geralt was already feeling bad enough about himself for how he'd let events transpire with Vivienne the night before. The last thing he needed was this shrew berating him. He took in a deep breath and exhaled very slowly as he stared into the woman's face.
"Listen up, Lois," he said calmly but with no warmth. "Dandelion may have to tolerate you and your family because you're about to be his in-laws. But I don't. So, yeah, I threatened Quentin yesterday. And why? Because he was about to draw his sword on an unarmed man. Your oh-so-honorable brother didn't display a lot of honor with that act - did he? But let me guess – he failed to mention that little detail to you, huh?"
At that, she didn't say a word. She just glared at him.
"Yeah, just as I thought. But while Quentin may have no honor, he at least did show some wisdom by sheathing his sword. Otherwise, I would've taken off his head and not lost a wink of sleep over it."
"You, sir, are no gentleman."
"Yeah, I've heard that before."
"Mark my words – dishonorable men reap their due. So, sayeth the prophet Lebioda."
"Yeah, I've heard that before, too. But you really need to preach that to Quentin, not me."
Lois just scowled some more.
"To think that I was initially attracted to you."
"There's no accounting for taste, is there?"
"You know what - I have no interest in conversing further with someone like you."
A half smile, half snarl came to Geralt's face.
"Looks like my luck's changing for the better every day."
With that, Lois huffed, turned on her heel, and marched back to where her family was standing. A moment later, Dandelion came rushing through the front doors of the temple, and immediately, everyone gathered around him.
"Hold on! Hold on!" he shouted above the noise, raising his hands in the air for silence. "I've got to talk to Geralt in private. Then I'll let you know what's going on."
The two of them walked out into the morning sunlight and stood on the temple's front steps.
"Geralt, I hate to ask this of you, but…I need your help again."
"Of course, you do."
"I went all over town this morning trying to find another banquet hall where we could hold our reception tonight. There's nothing, Geralt. Nothing! Everyone I talked to said that they're already booked with some other event."
"So, what do you expect me to do about it?"
"I was desperate so…I went to the only person in the city that I knew could help me."
Geralt didn't like the sound of that at all. Dandelion being desperate never ended well.
"What did you do, Dandelion?"
"I went to see Dijkstra."
The witcher clenched his jaws at that news because he already knew what was coming. He did notice that the bard at least had the good graces to break eye contact and look away in shame.
"I'm sorry, Geralt, but I had no choice! This is an emergency," Dandelion continued, bringing his eyes back to meet Geralt's. "The Chancellor's palace has multiple banquet halls and ballrooms that could suit our needs, and Dijkstra said that he'd happily allow us to use the main ballroom…on one condition. He is requesting a favor from you. He said that you know what it is."
The witcher just exhaled deeply and shook his head. He didn't really want to do the 'favor' for Dijkstra, but, honestly, compared to all the other sacrifices he'd already made in the last few days on his friend's behalf, what the chancellor wanted was actually going to be fairly easy.
"Yeah, I know what he wants."
"What is it?"
"None of your business."
"But you'll do it?"
"Yeah, I'll do it."
"That's great, Geralt! I owe you one."
"More than one. Tell him I'll take care of it tomorrow."
Suddenly, a grimace came to the bard's face.
"He, uh, he said that he'd expect you today. Right now, in fact."
"Dandelion," Geralt growled, "I've already got plans for today. Important plans."
"I don't know what to tell you. He was adamant. Please, Geralt! You've got to do this for me! I promise I won't ask another favor from you ever again!"
Geralt wanted to tell the both of them – Dandelion and Dijkstra – to go jump in the harbor, but he looked at the pathetic, pleading look on his friend's face and relented. But he wasn't happy about it at all. He scowled, stepped close to the bard, and thrust his hand inside the man's doublet.
"Fine," he said, before pulling out the poet's journal. "But you're going to take a note to Vivienne, understood?"
"Yeah, yeah. Of course, whatever you say!"
Geralt pulled the pencil from its holder on the spine of the journal and turned to a blank page near the back. He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, and then started writing out a message.
'Vivienne,
I need to apologize to you – for a lot of things. I'm sorry how things turned out last night. I know that you probably felt ignored, and I'm sorry. I have no excuse for it. No matter how excited I was to see Ciri again, I shouldn't have ignored you. I honestly didn't mean to do so.
Also, I promise you I have no feelings for Yennefer. I just couldn't dance with you to that song because it felt like an insult to you. I should've told you that at the time. I don't know why I didn't. I'm just not great when it comes to talking about my feelings. But you're probably already very aware of that.
I was going to discuss all of this with you today, in person, after the rehearsal this morning, but another emergency has come up. One that apparently only I can deal with. I know that we were planning on spending the day together, and I hate that we now can't. So, I'm sorry about this, too.
Please know that I care about you a lot, and I really want to see you again. I'll come by your room as soon as I'm done doing this final favor for Dandelion, but if I can't, then please come to the wedding and reception tonight. Please let me apologize in person and make it up to you.'
He stopped and re-read the message. It had been awkward for him to write, and it was just as awkward for him to read, as well. Discussing his feelings had never been easy for him. But he desperately wanted to make things right with Vivienne, even if that meant doing something that made him feel uncomfortable. He came to the end of the message, but he wasn't sure how to end it. Finally, he swallowed and gave a small nod of his head, hoping that what he was about to write was still true. And then he scribbled out the final words.
'Your knight,
Geralt'
He tore the page from the journal and folded it up twice.
"Make sure Vivienne gets this. As soon as possible, got it?"
"Of course. You've got my word. I won't let you down."
"You'd best hope not. Apparently, Lebioda's not a fan of dishonorable men. Just ask Lois."
"Huh?" said the bard with furrowed brows. "Since when do you care about what Lebioda says? Or Lois, for that matter?"
"Never mind," said the witcher before heading down the temple steps and towards the Redanian chancellor's palace.
oOo
Vivienne was dressed and sitting in her room at the cabaret. She'd already eaten breakfast and was simply waiting for Geralt to return from the wedding rehearsal at the temple. He'd told her last night that the rehearsal wasn't to last more than an hour, but it was already nearing lunch. She was biting her lip and wringing her hands together because she was full of both conflicting thoughts and emotions.
On one hand, she was looking forward to spending the day with him – especially, given that he would be leaving for Toussaint on the morrow. However, she was also feeling a bit irritated that he was keeping her waiting for so long. He should have been back a couple of hours ago. If the plans had changed, then the courteous thing would have been for him to let her know. It also didn't help her emotional state that waiting for Geralt took her back to her teenage years when she'd constantly waited for her 'prince charming' to come break her curse. She'd hated the feelings of hopelessness and powerlessness then, and being reminded of that time was putting her in a dark mood now. And if all of that wasn't enough, there was still the issue of his relationship with Yennefer that she wanted to discuss. Or, at least, a part of her did. Wanted to get it out in the open and resolve it. However, there was another part of her that feared what that conversation might bring.
'We've only got one day left together,' she thought. 'Perhaps, it'd just be better to forget about it. To just enjoy the time that we have left together.'
A sound at her door brought her out of her internal debate, and she quickly stood up from where she was sitting, thinking that it was Geralt. But, then, she heard a key enter the lock, and a second later, Marissa walked into the room. From the look on her cousin's face, Vivienne immediately knew that something was amiss.
"Hey," she said. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Hi," said the brunette. "I was hoping you'd be here."
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes, everything's fine," Marissa answered before pausing for a second. "But we need to talk."
"Okay. It sounds serious."
"I…I think it is," she said before a large smile came to her face. "Last night, Rodrick – Count Dufrene – told me that he's in love with me."
"Wow! That is serious. And how do you feel about him?"
"Well, I'm not in love with him, but I do like him…a lot. I could see it becoming love one day, maybe."
Vivienne rushed to her cousin and hugged her tightly. After a moment, they broke their embrace but continued to hold each other's hands.
"Really?"
The buxom brunette didn't say anything. She just nodded as another beaming smile came to her face.
"That's wonderful, Marissa! So, why did you look so upset when you walked in?"
"Because he wants me to stay with him. And not just for tonight. But permanently."
"And you want to?"
"I do. It's shocking, I know. But I really do. I realize I'm not getting any younger. I'm already twenty now, and I can't travel the world forever. I have to settle down eventually. And he's a great catch. Young, handsome, rich, great in bed. What else could I ask for?"
"So, then, what's the problem?"
At that point, Marissa led Vivienne to the nearby bed, where they sat on the edge of it facing one another.
"Well, if I stay with him, then I feel like I'd be abandoning you. I couldn't do -"
"No, no," interrupted Vivienne. "You have to stay with him. Don't worry about me."
"But I do.
"Marissa, I was traveling the world for a year and a half before you joined me, and I was just fine by myself. I'm a grown woman. I'll be fine now, too. Honestly."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. If you think there's a chance with Count Dufrene, then you have to pursue it. No regrets, right? Isn't that what you told me?"
Marissa nodded but still didn't look happy. So, Vivienne smiled for her, hoping to convince her.
"Then, let's get you packed, alright?"
The two women peered into each other's eyes for a moment. Vivienne truly was happy for her cousin, and her face reflected it. Eventually, a smile came to Marissa's face, as well, and she gave Vivienne a tight hug.
"Okay. As long as you're sure."
"I am."
It was then that there was a knock at their door. Immediately, Vivienne's breath caught in her throat and she bit down on her lip.
She broke her embrace with Marissa and quickly stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress.
"How do I look?"
"Perfect – as usual," answered Marissa with a smile.
Vivienne strode to the door, but when she opened it, her face fell for it wasn't Geralt who'd knocked. Standing there was a woman she'd never seen before.
"Are you Vivienne de Tabris?" the stranger asked.
"I am."
"This is for you," said the woman, handing her a folded-up piece of paper. "Geralt asked me to deliver this."
Vivienne looked up from the note in her hand to see the woman smiling, but there wasn't any warmth in it.
"Have a nice day," said the stranger coldly before immediately turning and heading down the hallway.
oOo
"You burnt down the banquet hall, didn't you?"
Dijkstra laughed.
"I'm the chancellor of Redania, and you dare accuse me of arson?"
"Oh, I dare," said the witcher.
"Just what kind of person do you think I am?"
"We both know the answer to that."
"Indeed, we do," he said with a chuckle. "Not that it's any of your business, but I was in the palace all last night. So, I couldn't have burned down any hall – banquet or otherwise."
"I didn't mean you personally. I meant some of your lackeys."
The smile stayed on the big man's face.
"Mind you, I'm not admitting to anything, but sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good. A burned down banquet hall is a small price to pay if it helps ensure a trade deal between Redania and Ofier."
"Small price to you maybe. I doubt the owner of the burned down banquet hall would say the same."
"Well, fortunately, his ruler has a heart of gold. I'm sure we'll find the funds to help him rebuild."
Geralt gave a small shake of his head.
"And let me guess – one word from the chancellor with the heart of gold, and suddenly, all the other banquet halls in the city were booked tonight, no matter what."
Dijkstra laughed.
"You do know me well."
"And if I hadn't been willing to come here?"
The big man smirked and shook his head.
"You - refuse to help your poet friend out of his dire circumstances? There was never any doubt you'd come to his aid. You think you know me well? Well, no more than I know you. Now, do you have any more questions for me, or are you finally ready to perform this little favor?"
"Let's get this over with."
Ten minutes later, Geralt was led into a study within the palace, in the middle of which stood Lady Nadari, the wife of the Ofieri ambassador. She was wearing a painter's smock and standing in front of an easel, which held a large blank canvas. When she saw the witcher, she broke into a beautiful smile. He approached the woman and gave a small bow of his head.
"Greatly I am pleased that your mind to be changed," she said in her broken Common tongue. "As the other night I mention, painting unique and rare creatures, my hobby it is. The masterpiece of my collection – a witcher with sword - you shall be."
"What an honor," he said dryly before unbuttoning his jacket.
oOo
Vivienne could barely breathe as a single tear ran down her cheek and fell onto the note in her hands. She read Geralt's message again, and his words hurt perhaps even more the second time through.
"What is it?" asked Marissa. "What's wrong?"
"I…I can't believe it. There…there has to be some mistake."
She looked down at the note for a third time. There were only a couple of sentences, but those were enough to make her feel as if she'd just been punched in the gut. Geralt had cancelled their plans for the day. He'd also uninvited her to the wedding and reception that night. And, finally, he'd written that the two of them had no future because he realized that he still had feelings for Yennefer.
Vivienne sat down on the edge of the bed, slowly shaking her head, her eyes no longer focused on anything.
"I thought he was the one," she whispered to herself. "We were getting along so well. I…I thought he was the one."
She swallowed hard as memories from the previous evening flashed through her mind – Geralt's reaction when his and Yennefer's song was played and, later, how once the sorceress and Ciri had arrived, he'd basically ignored her. Those memories transitioned into images from her nightmare - the one of her, the wolf, and the raven in the meadow. She shook her head again and slowly crumpled up the note in her hands.
oOo
Geralt rushed up the stairs at the cabaret and down the hall towards Vivienne's room. Just as he'd feared, posing for Lady Nadari's painting had taken all day. There was only about an hour before the wedding started, and though he still needed to change into his wedding attire, he desperately wanted to see Vivienne first. He hoped that, perhaps, the two of them could walk to the temple together. He knocked forcefully on her door several times, but a minute later, she'd still not answered. He cursed under his breath before heading back to his own room, thinking that she'd probably already left for the wedding. Or, at least, hoping she had.
When he opened the door to his room, Dandelion was inside waiting for him, pacing back and forth. He was dressed to the nines, wearing an outfit in his favorite colors – a variety of purples and blues - with lacy cuffs, puffed sleeves, and a flowing cape. And, of course, he was accessorized to the hilt with silver rings on his fingers, a silky kerchief around his neck, and raspberry beret – sporting a large, peacock feather - sitting rakishly atop his head. Geralt could tell that he'd even dyed the hair on his face and head a dark brown.
"Finally! Thank the gods!" exclaimed the bard upon seeing the witcher enter the room.
"The gods have got nothing to do with it."
"Yeah, well, then thank somebody. I was getting worried. We're cutting it close."
"Relax. They can't start without you."
"True, but Priscilla could change her mind without me."
"You kidding? After everything you've put her through, if she's still willing to marry you, then you being a bit late wouldn't make her call it off. Hell, at this point, she probably expects it."
"Exactly. So, I'd like to pleasantly surprise her."
"Fine. Let me get dressed, then we can go." He then scowled at the next thought. "Did you bring my outfit from Elihal's?"
Geralt noticed a small smirk come to Dandelion's face.
"I put it on the bed."
The witcher scowled some more as he walked over to his bed. He honestly wasn't sure which outfit he'd prefer to wear to the wedding – the green and yellow monstrosity that Dandelion had commissioned Elihal to design or the bright, blue thong he'd worn at the Passiflora. Either way, he knew he'd look like a fool. But a foot from the bed, he suddenly stopped, his brow furrowed at what he saw. He reached down and picked up the doublet, but it wasn't the garishly yellow garment he'd seen a few days ago. Instead, he held up an all-black doublet with very elegant – but subdued – silver stitching. He glanced at the rest of the outfit on the bed to see that it was also made of the same understated, black material.
Geralt quickly turned to look at Dandelion.
"What gives? This isn't the outfit you had Elihal make for me. I saw that one. It looked like - well, like something that you'd wear."
"Exactly. It dawned on me that it was way too eye-catching. Today is supposed to be my day. So, I want all eyes on me, not you. Plus, I realized that you simply don't have the charisma or bearing to wear an outfit like that."
Geralt peered at Dandelion with his brow still furrowed for just a moment, but, a second later, he deduced his friend's real motivation behind the outfit change.
"Thanks, Dandelion," he said with a nod. "I appreciate it."
At that point, the bard's pompous smirk changed into a genuinely, warm smile.
"No, Geralt. Thank you. For everything. This is the best day of my life, and it wouldn't be happening if not for you. You're a great friend," said Dandelion, extending his hand. "Better than I deserve."
Geralt looked at his friend's extended hand for a moment as a thought passed through his mind. Yes, today was a day of change. With Dandelion becoming a husband and father, Geralt knew that their friendship would never be the same. But he realized the most important aspect was that, even if their friendship changed, it would always remain. It would just be different. That's all. With that thought, he gripped his friend's hand, and the two men smiled at one another for a couple of seconds before the he reached up and gave the bard an affectionate slap on the shoulder.
"Come on. Let's go get you married off."
oOo
"Are you sure about this?" asked Marissa.
"And what would you do?" asked Vivienne with a small smile. For she knew exactly what her impetuous cousin would do.
The two women were standing on a dock in the Novigrad harbor. Vivienne had her packed, steamer trunk by her side with a couple of other personal bags stacked on top of it.
"I'd go find him at that wedding reception," the brunette said, her eyes blazing.
"I've got my pride, Marissa. I'm not going to beg him to change his mind."
"Who said anything about getting him to change his mind? I'd go there to tell him off! If he wants to pick some other woman over you, fine. It makes him a fool, but fine. But to not even have the courage to tell you that to your face? To send some woman with a note instead? Talk about a spineless coward! It showed a total lack of respect for you!"
As much as Vivienne disagreed with her cousin's proposed course of action, she definitely agreed with her last sentiment. And, to be honest, that was what hurt Vivienne the most – that she'd been so wrong about Geralt's character. Being rejected over another woman was painful, but she realized that, ultimately, one's feelings can't be changed. And if Geralt had stronger feelings for Yennefer than he did for her, then so be it. It hurt and was disappointing, but so be it. That said, while it was true that a person couldn't control their feelings, they could control their actions. They could decide to act honorably. But he hadn't. As Marissa had just stated, how Geralt had chosen to end things with her had been cowardly and disrespectful. And that wasn't like him at all. Or, at least, she hadn't thought that was like him. Sure, they'd only known each other a handful of days, but after everything they'd been through, she thought that she truly had known the man. Known him down at his core. She'd believed him to be a man of incredible honor and integrity. Of kindness and compassion. And that was what was the most disappointing – that she'd been so wrong about him. She must have asked herself that same question a hundred times already.
'How could I have been so wrong?'
Perhaps, she'd been too naïve, wanting too much to see the best in Geralt. Hoping that he could be her long-awaited 'knight in shining armor.' She could admit to herself that, when it came to romance, she wasn't very experienced. Her curse had kept her from being that. So, maybe, she'd simply been a fool to think he truly was who he portrayed himself to be. Maybe nobody truly was. Perhaps everyone showed the world only the best versions of themselves. She'd certainly kept the truth about herself hidden from the world for over a decade. So, why should she think that anyone else would be different? But if so, then it was a hard-earned and painful lesson. And, frankly, it was a lesson that left her feeling a bit sad. Because if that was the truth, then could she ever trust anyone? Was there anyone out in the world that she could fully give herself to? She didn't know the answer to that.
Vivienne gave a small sigh and then hugged her cousin.
"Thank you for your advice, and thank you for being so upset on my behalf. But I think I'd just prefer to leave. Telling him off wouldn't change anything. And I doubt that it'd even make me feel any better."
"Well, it'd make me feel better," said the brunette before they broke their embrace.
Vivienne smiled.
"I'm going to miss your sass."
Instantly, Marissa broke down in tears and hugged her cousin tightly. While Vivienne was comforting her, she heard a couple of men walk up close and grab her luggage.
"Lady Vivienne," came the ship captain's voice from behind her a few moments later. "It's time to set sail."
Upon hearing that, the two women parted and wiped the tears from their cheeks.
"I guess that's my cue," said Vivienne before turning and walking up the gangplank. Once on board, she looked back at Marissa with a small smile. "Don't wait up for me!"
The younger woman smiled back and yelled out, "I never do!"
oOo
"So, here's to the bride and groom. May their marriage be filled with wisdom, kindness, and patience," said Geralt, finishing his toast and raising his glass into the air. He then looked directly at Priscilla. "Because you're definitely gonna need it."
Everyone politely laughed at that remark and drank a toast to the couple, and then the witcher sat down at the main table at the head of the hall. Dijkstra had definitely satisfied his end of the bargain because the banquet hall was befitting some kind royal reception. All the tables were adorned with snow-white table clothes, fine porcelain dishes, and crystal goblets. The wedding party and the hundred plus guests all seemed to be greatly enjoying the food, drink, and atmosphere. All except Geralt, that is.
He, once again, let his eyes scan his surroundings, but just like at the Lebiodan temple, he didn't see Vivienne anywhere. He knew it was foolish to even look for her at that point because if she'd been present, then she would've have approached him by now.
Earlier, on their walk to the temple from the cabaret, Geralt had asked Dandelion if he'd delivered his note to Vivienne like he'd asked.
"Well, not me personally, but yes," the bard had answered.
"What do you mean? Not you, personally?"
"After the rehearsal, Brother Rasmun wanted to speak with me and Priscilla. And since you were so adamant that I get the note to Vivienne as soon as possible, then I asked someone to deliver it for me."
"Who did you ask?"
"Priscilla's sister, Lois, volunteered to do it."
"Lois?" he'd asked, with furrowed brow. "She offered?"
"Yeah. I saw her later and asked her about it. She promised that she had. Why?"
Geralt hadn't answered the bard at the time, saying instead, "It's nothing. Never mind."
But he'd been bothered about what Dandelion had told him ever since then. And given that Vivienne was nowhere to be seen, he was now even more unsettled.
'Why hadn't she shown?' he asked himself. 'Was she really that upset about last night?'
He honestly couldn't blame her if she was, but even so, he was still dumbfounded by her absence because he thought she was the type of person that would at least hear him out, to let him apologize.
What he'd wanted to do for the past couple of hours is to speak with Lois about it, but, unfortunately, he'd had no real chance so far to do so – neither at the temple nor at the reception. So, for the next half hour, he squirmed in his chair, only half-listening to everyone else toast the newlyweds and constantly eye-balling Lois. Every once in a while, he noticed her looking back at him and the tiniest of smiles would come to her lips. Finally, Dandelion and Priscilla had their first dance together, and as soon as the band finished playing, Geralt rose from his seat and made a bee-line for Lois.
"We need to talk."
She looked up at him with the same small smirk and a twinkle in her eye. She slowly took a sip of wine from her glass before her smile widened.
"But, of course. Care to dance?"
That caught him off-guard, but if that's what it took to find out what happened, then so be it.
"Yeah, sure."
He held out his hand, and once she placed hers in his, he led her to the dance floor.
"I need to ask you a question," he said, getting straight to the point. "You did a favor for Dandelion this morning. You took a note to a woman named Vivienne de Tabris at the Chameleon. Did you actually hand her the note?"
"I did."
"And you're sure it was her?"
"I knocked on her door, asked the woman who answered if she was Vivienne, and she said yes. Tall, blonde hair…quite pretty."
Geralt cursed to himself. His one hope had been that somehow Vivienne hadn't received his note.
"Did she say anything?" he asked, bringing his focus back to Lois. "Ask about me?"
"Well, I told her the note was from you, and she did not look pleased. I thought she was about to rip up the note, right there and then."
The small smirk returned to her face.
"Is there something wrong, Geralt? Were you hoping this woman would be here tonight? Because if so, I don't see her."
Geralt noticed that her eyes hardened just a bit and that her smirk almost turned into a snarl.
"Perhaps, she doesn't like dishonorable men."
And with that, she left him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.
oOo
Geralt finished packing and took a final look around his room at the cabaret. He didn't know when – or even if – he'd ever be back in Novigrad so he didn't want to leave anything behind. It was then that his eyes fell on the empty, blue bottle of Bitter Steel vodka resting on the small table. Even after he and Dandelion had finished off the top-shelf liquor two nights prior at the Golden Sturgeon, he'd refused to throw it out. He walked over and picked the bottle up, and as he stared at it, his mind wandered, thinking about Vivienne and where she might be just now.
After speaking with Lois the night before, he'd snuck out of the reception and hurried back to the Chameleon. He'd been shocked when, after banging on her door, a man had answered. The stranger didn't know who Vivienne was and had told Geralt that he and his family had rented room earlier that evening. To verify, the witcher headed downstairs and asked ViLula if he could see the registry. Sure enough, it showed that Vivienne had checked out that afternoon.
For a moment, Geralt had been so overcome with emotion that he'd considered scouring the city's taverns and inns all night until he'd found her. But the moment had passed quickly. For he'd realized that her leaving the cabaret without saying goodbye made it crystal clear how she felt about him. And if he chased after her, it'd just be, well, pathetic, he'd told himself.
At that point, all Geralt had wanted to do was find a dark corner in a seedy tavern and drink in solitude. But he knew he couldn't, not with his best friend's wedding reception still in progress. So, instead, he'd trudged his way back to the palace, where he'd forced himself to smile and nod through countless, banal conversations. All the while, the inner voice that had been with him his whole life mocked him.
'What did you expect, fool? That someone like you could end up with a woman like her? That you – a witcher – would ever find happiness?'
He'd nodded at that because, deep down, he'd known that whatever he and Vivienne had together wouldn't last. Because relationships never lasted. Ever. Not one. Not for him, anyway. So, it wasn't as if this was a surprise. Hell, he'd even tried talking her out of anything romantic from the very beginning. What bothered him the most about this latest relationship was simply how it had ended. He'd hoped that, maybe, with Vivienne things could have somehow ended on good terms. With them kissing goodbye on the docks of the Novigrad harbor. That way, the two of them could have at least been left with some pleasant memories of their time together instead of the bitter pill that he was having to swallow now.
'Wake up, dumbass,' the voice had said. 'All relationships end badly. Otherwise, they wouldn't end.'
Geralt had nodded at that thought, too, and then had spent the rest of the evening drinking copious amounts of vodka in order to help that bitter pill go down a little less painfully.
When he'd woken up the next morning, he'd discovered that, while his head hurt a bit, his heart hurt less so. It seemed as if, overnight, it had started to callous over. As if the walls that normally protected it were already being rebuilt. And, at that point, his focus shifted to returning to his vineyard at Corvo Bianco.
'Where it should have been this entire time,' said the voice.
"An oren for yer thoughts," said Zoltan, bringing the witcher out of his musings.
Geralt didn't answer at first. Eventually, though, he gave his head a small shake and looked over at his friend. Dandelion and Priscilla were standing next to the dwarf. They were all there to say goodbye.
"I was just thinking of the irony," he said, holding up the empty bottle as a sad smile came to his face. "Bitter Steel. Pretty appropriate."
He opened up a saddle bag and carefully placed the bottle inside. A moment later, there was knock on his door, and when Dandelion opened it, ViLula walked in.
"Hey, Geralt. This just arrived for you," she said, handing him a sealed parchment.
As soon as he broke the seal and saw the handwriting, he cursed under his breath. For he'd recognize Barnabas-Basil's scrawl anywhere. And if his majordomo was writing, it could only be bad news.
"What's wrong?" asked Dandelion. "It looks like you just found out you have to move in with Yennefer."
"What?" said Geralt, looking up from the letter. "No, nothing that bad. Just a little mishap back home. My steward says he took care of it and not to worry, but before I left, I made him promise that he'd contact me if anything out of the ordinary happened with the harvest – no matter what."
"So, I guess this means that you're definitely not staying then," said Priscilla.
She and Dandelion had been trying to convince him to stay a while longer, promising him that, if he did, there'd be no unexpected drama like before. That after everything he'd done for them, he deserved a few days of nothing but peace and relaxation.
"Yeah, I really do need to get back. It's the busiest time of the year."
"You know – hell really has frozen over," said Dandelion with a smile. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd truly put up your swords and leave the Path. But here you are – an actual vineyard owner."
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Zoltan. "That's no more barmy than you being a husband and father."
"Watch what you say, dwarf," said Priscilla. "You're next."
"Ooof. What is it with lasses, eh? As soon as they get hitched, suddenly, they have to meddle. Trying to get everyone else the same."
"Misery loves company, I guess," said Geralt.
A few minutes later, the four of them were all outside by the front door of the cabaret. One of Dandelion's employees had brought Roach around from the stable, and after Geralt attached his bags to the saddle, he turned to look at his three friends. He'd already told Ciri goodbye that morning, and he knew that this farewell wasn't going to be any easier.
Priscilla stepped up first, kissed him on the cheek and hugged him tightly.
"We'll never forget what you did for us," she said softly. "You're a wonderful friend. Promise me you'll come back to visit more often. Because you're going to be 'Uncle Geralt' really soon."
He was just about to answer when he heard a female voice from behind.
"Bastard! So, is this Yennefer?"
Geralt turned to see a short, brunette glaring at him. He recognized her, but couldn't remember exactly who she was at first. And then it dawned on him, and his eyes widened.
"Hey, it's you. You're Vivienne's friend, right?"
"How can you even look yourself in the mirror, you gutless, old fart?!" she hissed, ignoring his question.
"What…what are talking about it?"
"Oh, don't play dumb! Vivienne was crazy about you. She went on and on about what a man of honor and decency you were. But you didn't even have the spine to end things with her face-to-face."
"End things? I didn't end things with her."
"Oh, really! Then, what do you call this?" she said, shoving a crumpled-up note into his chest.
Geralt grabbed the note and spread it out in his hands.
"Ending things in a note! And without the courage to even bring it yourself. You send some women instead!"
But, at that point, he wasn't paying attention to the angry young woman anymore. He was completely confused by what he was reading.
After a few seconds, he looked up and said, "This isn't…I didn't write this. This isn't my handwriting."
Suddenly, the brunette stopped her rant.
"What?"
"I did send Vivienne a note yesterday morning, but not this. I…I apologized in my note. Told her that I cared about her. Asked her to come to the wedding and reception last night so that I could apologize in person."
"Wait. So…you don't have feelings for someone named Yennefer?"
"No. Not at all. But she thought I did?"
The brunette nodded.
"Then, who wrote that?" she asked, pointing to the note in his hand.
"It doesn't matter. Not right now. All that matters is Vivienne. Where is she? We can't end things like this."
The young woman looked sick to her stomach.
"She…she left the city. Yesterday. Sailed to Skellige."
Instantly, whatever hope he'd felt vanished. Not only had he and Vivienne missed out on their 'happily right now,' but their bittersweet farewell had been stolen from them, as well.
"Terrific," he said under his breath. "Just bloody terrific."
He sighed and shook his head several times, as he stared down at the ground, lost in thought. After a moment, he turned towards Roach, put his foot in the stirrup and lifted himself into the saddle.
"What are you planning on doing?" asked Dandelion. "Where are you going?"
Geralt looked down at the bard and, then, suddenly, remembered the other note in his pocket. He pulled it out and stared at the two notes in his hands – one from Corvo Bianco and the other that Vivienne had thought had come from him. He then brought his eyes up to those of his best friend.
"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "I honestly don't know."