Finally, after all those weeks of travelling, they entered the valley that used to be home to Geralt. Kaer Morhen was visible from afar.
"That's it? That's the place you are from?" Kit's eyes widened at the sight of the imposing keep that melted into the rocks that it had been built on.
"This is where all witchers of the school of the wolf were born."
He preferred to think of the place as that rather than the place of his creation. Birth sounded natural whereas creation just brought back the memories of the painful transformation. He had spared Kit the details but having a basic understanding of genetics, she had already guessed that it was not exactly a comfortable process.
The horses trotted through the green valley at a leisurely pace.
"It's beautiful. Peaceful really, for a place that trains monster hunters."
"Not what you expected?"
"I'm honestly not sure what I expected. Some sort of Hogwarts for assassins I guess?"
"That's Harry Potter, right?"
"You remembered that." Kit nodded approvingly.
"Of all the things you ever told me, that story is probably the one I can relate to the most."
"I can just see it: The sorting hat putting you in Gryffindor. A bunch of boys, nearly slaughtered during some stupid test, returning for dinner in the great hall…" Kit had never made a secret of her aversion towards the involvement of kids. Child abuse was a term that she liked use frequently.
"Dinner was popular," he confirmed, ignoring her mocking tone.
When it came to Kaer Morhen and him becoming a witcher, he was torn between the pride of having survived it and what came after, and resentment brooding beneath the surface for having this choice taken away from him, for having been abandoned by a mother he could scarcely remember. Later on, a permanent desire to know how his life would have turned out otherwise had started to overshadow the bitter feelings he harbored. Admittedly, the latter issue had only occupied his mind ever since he had settled down. Before that any alternative to his way of life had been inconceivable.
One of the reasons he had agreed to travel to Kaedwen with Kit was to show her that not all of it had been bad. He had always been surrounded by friends, brothers really – even if a lot of them had died. Just like she was doing it in Toussaint, he had created an alternative family for himself. He had been cared for. He had saved lives, something that Kit herself often reminded him of. But her mood would turn sour still when she thought of all the times he had gotten hurt, leading her to have a rather ambivalent opinion towards the entire issue.
But there were more reasons for this visit. After they had fought the Wild Hunt and mourned the loss of Vesemir, Geralt had been forced to leave the keep much quicker than he had anticipated. Ciri had woken him up and asked for his help and he had relented, of course. Only after they had been on their horses for several hours did he realize that he would never go back. There was no reason to: Vesemir was dead and Geralt had always been convinced that the old ruin had been held together by his sheer power of will alone and would crumble immediately now that he was gone. Lambert had left with Keira and made it very clear he was never going to return and so had Eskel. Geralt had left Kaer Morhen, his home for nearly a century, behind in a hurry and he had not even properly said goodbye. Only when he was too far away did he fully realize that he was never going to see these old walls again. That he was never going to go up the stairs to the library or the bedrooms again. That he would never lay eyes on the valley again from one of the balconies high up the towers.
He had not quite grasped any of that until it had been too late. While it was just a crumbling pile of old stones, it was also a place that held many memories. And he had just abandoned it without further thought. It stung. Even a witcher could be sentimental at times.
He was going to do things right this time.
Geralt listened to the familiar sounds of the valley. He heard some bears somewhere far away – too far away for the average human to hear. Something screeched even farther away, probably a wyvern. The area seemed to be plagued by a never-ending infestation of these creatures. They were to Kaer Morhen what the fat black cat, dubbed Sir Pounce by Kit, was to Corvo Bianco: a pet that you just could not get rid of, albeit a rather deadly version of a pet.
"Inviting," Kit remarked when she saw the destroyed gate of the fortress. The hole in the iron weave, a reminder of that last big battle, was not big enough for Geralt to pass through on horseback, but Kit fit easily when she ducked her head.
For a moment the witcher was overwhelmed by finally finding himself within the familiar walls again. Ever so briefly he was ready to give in to that feeling of homesickness but then his ears picked up an unexpected sound and every sentimental notion was wiped from his thoughts.
He handed Kit the reins to Roach. "Stay back," he commanded, all senses on high alert.
"Geralt, what…"
"There is a horse. There shouldn't be a horse," Geralt explained while drawing his sword and cautiously sneaking around the corner. He had heard the scraping sound of horseshoes on stone floor the moment they had passed the gate. And there it was – a horse in the old stables. Bridle and gear were neatly arranged next to it.
"Someone must be here," Kit concluded finally, surprise displayed on her face.
Geralt nodded. "I want you to hide in the stable, between the horses. Stay there until I come back. Understood?"
She nodded and maneuvered the horses into the stable, hiding in the stall behind them, worry written all over her face.
The fact that there was a living being within the walls of Kaer Morhen perplexed Geralt. For a while now he had imagined what it would be like to come back but meeting another person had not been part of that. Who could it be? The witchers were gone. Bandits maybe? Soldiers who fled from some war and decided to sit it out in the deserted keep? Maybe some scientist or adventurer. The location of the old structure was not well known but then again, once you made it into the valley you could easily spot it from afar.
Geralt walked cautiously, straining his ears to pick up even the slightest sound. Nobody in the yard, so maybe the strange visitor was to be found on the inside?
Kit crouched in a corner of the stable, hidden away behind the two horses. Geralt had been gone for a while before she finally heard footsteps again. Relieved she got up – just to realize a fraction too late that the pattern of the steps sounded wholly unfamiliar.
She wanted to duck down into hiding again, but the damage was done. The stranger, possibly the current inhabitant of Kaer Morhen, had already spotted her.
He was tired. He knew that he should have rested but the idea of having berries with his dinner had been too enticing. Roots and fish, nothing but roots and fish for days. He was sick of it.
Walking up the path to the keep had put a strain on his injured leg and he regretted his decision. But even with the pain occupying most of his attention, he could not ignore the presence of the two horses that were suddenly standing in the stable next to his own. A blonde head appeared in between the animals, the changing expression on the woman's face telling him that she had expected someone else.
She stared at him, he stared at her, still stunned by the fact that someone had managed to find this desolate place.
The woman finally cleared her throat. "Hi," she said timidly, waving her hand a little while trying to smile. Her discomfort was immediately obvious.
The man approached. "Hello," he reciprocated her greeting. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing sensible would come out. He was just too taken aback.
"Do you like spending your time in stables?" he finally asked, unable to think of a better question. He set the bucket down that he had been carrying.
"No, not particularly," the woman answered.
"Then why don't you come out?" the stranger suggested. He made an effort to look less hostile though it was safe to say that he failed at that no matter his facial expression - the right side of his face was marred with scars from his eye all the way down to his chin. It was not a look that inspired much confidence, especially not in women.
"Uh… I can't. I'm supposed to hide," the woman admitted sheepishly.
"I'm sorry I have to tell you this but you are doing a terrible job." Suddenly, he found the entire situation rather amusing.
"Yeah," she shrugged. "I've come to the same conclusion." She stood still. Her heart was pounding.
"I won't bite," he assured her, walking up closer, cautiously, raising his hands.
"Neither do I," she answered. "But the horses might. I'd stay away from them if I were you." Her voiced was steadfast and would have been very convincing had not her frantically beating heart given away her true state. He chuckled and stepped closer again under her scrutinizing gaze.
"I promise, I won't…" he started again.
"Wait, are you… Eskel?" she suddenly asked with a look of disbelief on her face.
He cocked his head. "How do you know?" Eskel asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise. A stranger in Kaer Morhen and she knew his name?
The woman laughed with relieve, the build-up tension in her body vanished at once. "I didn't see your eyes properly at first. But you're a witcher – which of course you already know. I just noticed your medallion, meaning you must be either Eskel or Lambert." She cautiously walked up to him now.
"I see. And then you saw my scars and knew who I was." He raised the corner of his mouth on the unscarred side into a smile.
"No," she shook her head, "I didn't know about your scars. But from all Geralt has told me about the two of you, Lambert would have already insulted me three times over. So you had to be Eskel." She smiled. "I'm Kit by the way. Nice to meet you."
The openness with which she suddenly greeted him, confused him as did her accurate assessment of the situation.
"Kit? Wait, you know Geralt?"
She nodded, still smiling.
"He's around as well?" Eskel started craning his neck while he spoke. He could not believe that his brother whom he had not seen in a decade should have actually returned to this retched place.
"Yup. He's trying to find out who the other horse belongs to. We were mildly surprised to learn that Kaer Morhen, that I had been promised hadn't seen a human soul in a decade, was not quite so abandoned after all."
"Where is he?" A smile spread over Eskels face, stretching the scarred skin beyond what it was used to. She must be horrified by the look if it, he thought, but either not very much or she was too polite to show it as she did not inch away from him or broke their eye-contact.
"If I just knew… Probably inside somewhere? When I heard you coming I thought it was him. He has been gone for a while already."
"Well, he won't find anyone else in there. How about we wait for him to return? I have raspberries, if you fancy some?" He lifted the bucket he had been carrying with him.
"How can I resist that?"
They sat down on a low wall next to the stable, eating handfuls of berries.
"I'm curious: How do you know Geralt?" Eskel eyed her up. Demeanor too friendly, not arrogant enough and attire too normal albeit a little weird. Not a sorceress, he concluded. Therefore, not potentially Geralt's lover.
"Uh… That's a long story." She scratched her head.
"Short version?" he asked.
"Geralt found me in a field, brought me home and… kept me." She nodded to herself. "That's the short version."
Eskel ran a hand through is thick, dark hair. "I'm afraid that was a little too short. Is there a medium long version that doesn't make it sound like Geralt picked up a random vegetable from a field?"
"Sure," Kit said without missing a beat. "Higher powers dropped me into a field close to Geralt's vineyard when they realized that I had been in the wrong place all my life. Geralt found me, took me home…"
"And kept you?" Eskel finished the sentence grinning.
"Pretty much. I design dresses for the Duchess now. Anyway, since I'm new here and I wanted to see other parts of the continent, I talked Geralt into going here with me. General curiosity, you know? What does a place look like where people conduct experiments on kids that would make the hairs of the folks who wrote the Geneva Conventions stand on edge?"
Eskel wrinkled his forehead. Too much information and yet not enough.
"Duchess? That must mean you are coming from Toussaint? And Geralt owns a vineyard?" The witcher had trouble organizing all the questions that sprang into his head.
"Yes. It's really nice, you should visit some time."
"Sure." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "How come again he owns a vineyard in the first place? Maybe he already told you but we were raised together and just now I fail to see how our training here qualified him to become a vintner."
"Well, let's see. It had something to do with a vampire in Beauclair. The Duchess hired Geralt because the vampire kept killing people and, naturally, she didn't like that. But it turns out the vampire was blackmailed by, get that, the long-lost sister of the Duchess. Anyway, the matter was resolved, somehow, don't ask me how, Geralt really sucks at telling stories. Corvo Bianco, that's the vineyard, was his reward. The end."
Eskel looked at her out of the corner of his eyes while throwing another hand full of raspberries into his mouth. He chewed and contemplated the weirdness of it all.
"I understand the words you say and yet, I understand nothing."
"Yeah, my bad, I think Geralt's inability to tell a story properly has rubbed off on me."
"I see. Anyway, I hear him coming. Maybe he can add to the gaps you left."
"Unlikely." She munched away on another few berries and then pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing when Geralt was close enough for her normal ears to finally pick up the sound of his boots.
"What on earth? Eskel?" were the first words Geralt uttered when he saw him and Kit sitting on the wall, eating berries like they did not have a care in the world.
"Surprise." The other witcher got up and gave his brother a bear hug.
"Just how…" Geralt mumbled when he let go of Eskel who was amused by the visible bewilderment on his brother's face.
"Didn't I tell you to hide?" Geralt directed his question at Kit, his expression showing disapproval.
"Yes, you did. But what can I say? He offered food." Kit's comment only led to Geralt looking even grimmer than before.
"And I thought I was going to have the whole place to myself indefinitely," Eskel interrupted his thoughts. Geralt shook his head in confusion.
"Sorry to disturb your peace but what on earth are you even doing here?"
"That's… another long story." Eskel shot a smile at Kit. "How about we go inside? I was on my way to make myself some dinner."
Geralt hesitated for a moment, still trying to sort out his thoughts. "Sounds like a good idea. Why don't you go ahead? We'll take care of our horses first."
"Sure." Eskel slapped him on the shoulder, turned around and walked off. Whatever this was, it already promised to be interesting. Then again pretty much everything was more interesting than spending time alone in the old keep.
"What was that about?" Geralt huffed the moment Eskel had turned around a corner.
"What was what about?" Kit cocked her head.
"I told you to stay hidden until I came back. What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed, walked towards her and grabbed her by her upper arms. "What if it hadn't been Eskel but somebody else? How could you be so reckless?" He was angry, so angry, but tried his best to not hold onto her too tightly.
"I heard steps and thought it was you. So, stop scolding me like I'm a child. It was an honest mistake and no amount of telling me off is going to change that." She took a step back and freed herself easily from his grip, her expression unreadable to Geralt.
"What's going on with you? You've never talked to me like that." She hugged herself, taking another step back.
What was going on with him? Dread had engulfed him from head to toe, settling deep into his stomach the instant he had seen her and Eskel together, realizing just how stupid it had been to let her stay back. For a moment an image had flashed before his eyes, the cobblestone beneath him coated in her blood dripping from her lifeless, mutilated body.
He was not usually the type to let his worst nightmares take over but this was different. Life was different now.
"You can't be so careless! What if anything had happened to you?" His voice was sharper than he had intended it to be. Quieter he continued: "What would I have done then?" His shoulders dropped. "I need to able to rely on you to do what I tell you if I want to keep you safe."
He sat down on the wall, hunched over, as the thought of what might have happened played again before his inner eye, his worst nightmares fueling his twisted fantasies. Witchers might have be unable to feel panic in the face of danger – this was probably what the rumor concerning their lack of emotions was rooted in – but that did not mean that he was emotionally stunted enough to simply ignore the fear of losing her. He could not be without her ever again. He had lost too many people in his life and they chose this particular moment to crawl back into his memory to let him experience their deaths again. Milva, Angoulême, Vesemir – for a fraction of a second he even relived the moment when he had found Ciri and thought he had been too late. He remembered the overwhelming grief clearly.
This could never happen again. He could not lose her, this one truly good thing he had been gifted.
"Geralt…" Kit's voice was soft now. She took a step towards him and placed her hands on his head, her fingers automatically started to comb through his hair. He did not look up, just put his arms around her waist and buried his face in the folds of her cape.
"I'm sorry," she continued. "I really am. But you can't talk to me like this." She put one hand under his chin. "Look at me, please."
He did. Her expression was all worry and softness. "You know that I love you. You know that I'd do pretty much anything you could possibly ask of me. But you also know how scared I was when I got here. I tried my best to deal with all of it. I know your intentions are good but don't ever tear my confidence down again like that. I need you to protect me and be there for me. I don't need you to instill more fears in me or make me feel bad." She tugged on his arms so he would stand up. He cupped her face, kissed her and murmured a silent "fuck" before he hugged her.
"I'm sorry." Suddenly he wanted to tell her how he would be lost without her, wanted to tell her about his worst fears and nightmares. But he did not because she was right. It was not fair of him to burden her with things that were only happening in his head. "I love you," he said instead and swallowed those fears, allowing them to form a tight knot in his stomach.
They remained in their embrace for a while. He listened to her heart, grateful for every calm beat it made.
"Well, at least we can cross off 'first fight' from our list," Kit mused and smiled. Her smile was not convincing but Geralt played along anyway.
"Fight? You call that a fight?"
"Well, what would you call it?"
"Minor misunderstanding?" Geralt proposed shrugging. Even a fight was not what it used to be with his woman from another world. The times seemed simpler when Yennefer was still throwing things at him.
"Sure, that works for me too."
When they finally entered the main hall, Eskel had already prepared soup for dinner, the smell wafting over from the kitchen. Geralt and Kit dropped their things onto a bench and joined their host at a sturdy wooden table.
Geralt took his surroundings in. Nothing much had changed. The building was still crumbling everywhere. There were still a couple of cots close to the big fireplace by the kitchen. And as per usual the place was cluttered with books and all sorts of devices, most of them broken. The chaos was unworthy of the high halls of this old place and yet – it was home. Just like he remembered it.
Kit took a little longer to register all that she saw. Geralt could tell she would have loved to jump up immediately to take a closer look at everything.
Beneath the table he put his hand on her thigh, rubbing it with his thumb, using her warmth to remind himself that she was okay.
When Eskel walked over with a small kettle full of soup in his hands, Geralt noticed that he was limping.
"What happened to you?" he asked with a critical gaze at Eskel's leg.
"Short story: I got hurt and it just won't fully heal. It's been two months. And I didn't know where else to go. Can't fight like this, meaning I can't afford to stay anywhere else." He lowered his gaze in defeat.
"I never thought there was something that could injure a witcher to this degree." Eskel picked up on the look of Kit's face. Full of sorrow. For him, a stranger, he wondered?
"There was a lot of bad luck involved. I was hunting a wyvern in a village about one or two days from here. But it tried to run. I got on my horse and went after it. The wyvern changed its mind after a while and suddenly attacked. It spooked the horse, new horse, not properly broken in yet I guess. I fell and the horse fell on me. That broken thigh hurt like shit. You'd know a thing or two about that," he added, looking at his friend. Geralt nodded, involuntarily recalling the memory of half his body getting crushed and the repercussions he had been living with until recently. "I was lucky that the people from the village who hired me were the rare breed that were actually decent. They had a competent healer who set my leg straight immediately and took care of me until the bones had mended. But something is wrong still. I have been hiding here ever since. It's not exactly great, can't even hunt for food. But I don't know what else to do. As a witcher I'm pretty much useless at the moment." He stared at his soup, stirring it listlessly.
Geralt understood only too well how Eskel felt. He had been lucky back then, had had the dryads of the Brokilon at his disposal. He exchanged quick glances with Kit who had not said anything so far. She shrugged. 'I might as well try' was what that meant.
She cleared her throat.
"This is not something I ever thought I'd say to a stranger but: Eskel, would you please take off your pants for me?"
Eskel dropped his spoon into the soup.
"What now?" he asked, looking at Geralt. What kind of frivolous stranger had he brought to Kaer Morhen? Not that Eskel minded but he generally preferred to drop his pants in a more private environment.
"You should really take off your pants," Geralt agreed, a sly smile spreading across his face. Despite feeling sorry for his brother, he could not help but be amused. He had this irresistible urge to mess with Eskel – for old time's sake.
"Just let me have a look. I promise I won't touch anything that's not your leg, okay?" Kit found a way to make her exasperated eyeroll be heard in her voice.
"What is even happening?" Eskel grumbled when he started undoing his pants. Kit walked around the table.
"Can you put your leg up on the bench?" She tapped on the wood and Eskel obliged.
"Well. At least it looks fine from the outside."
"It's actually a little swollen compared to the other side. But otherwise a medically competent statement."
"Is that so?" Kit replied while laying her hands onto his thigh, paying no regard to the critical gaze the witcher bestowed upon her.
"What…" Eskel exclaimed immediately. "Damn, I really thought you weren't a sorceress. But you're here with Geralt. I should have known better." Geralt grinned at his brother's jibe but said nothing.
"What made you think that I'm not a sorceress?" Kit asked, her face displaying utter concentration while her hands wandered over the witcher's injured leg.
"Your clothes. Not extravagant enough. And your attitude – much too friendly."
"Sorry to disappoint, you were right after all. I'm not a sorceress." She interrupted her concentrated stare for a brief smile.
"But I can clearly feel you doing something! If this isn't magic, then what is it?"
"Energy. Pure energy from another dimension. I don't know how to do any magic at all. All I can do is heal. And even that I don't actually know how to do."
"You're a healer?" Eskel stared at her in amazement before he looked back to Geralt. "How on earth, Geralt? Why is it always you? How do you do it? A witcher getting himself a healer, that's…"
"Extremely convenient?" he suggested when Eskel did not seem to find the right words. "But I didn't just get her, she was pretty much delivered to me." He smiled. "I'd like to believe that she chose me."
Kit looked up briefly. "Of course I did."
Geralt took in the longing for him that he saw in her eyes. And for an instant that made his fears about losing her disappear.
"That… is confusing," Eskel interrupted.
"Tell me about it," Kit snorted. "Oh…"
"Oh?" Geralt repeated. "That's usually the part of the other person, not yours."
Kit took her hands off Eskel's leg.
"I just saw something." She sat down and closed her eyes. "It seems no matter where you are, some things are bound to repeat themselves." She drummed her nails on the table. "Anyone interested in some interdimensional story-time?"
Eskel shrugged which Kit seemed to take as a sufficient prompt to continue talking.
"There was a king, he lived about 500 years ago. Well, 500 years ago from my time, not yours obviously. He was infamous for the number of wives he had. Divorced two, beheaded another two, lost one to childbed fever. The last one outlived him though."
"What does any of that have to do with my leg? I've never been married." Just like Eskel, Geralt failed to see the connection.
"This king started out as a fairly decent guy for all I know. But he spiraled into madness and cruelty later on. Partially brought on by him being the result of generations of incest but things really went to shit when during a tournament his horse fell on him. The injury never healed properly. It caused him pain, the infection in his leg permanently caused nasty smelling ulcers. Naturally, it got worse the older and fatter he got. Anyway, we are not quite sure what the exact cause was but likely there were splinters of dead bone in his leg that were responsible for the infections. And that's what I saw when I touched you. Well… I didn't really see anything per se but… suddenly, I just knew that we're having the same issue here."
"You've never done this with me before," Geralt remarked.
Kid shrugged. "I guess I just learned something new."
"Can you fix it?"
She cocked her head. "We'll see. They said I can manipulate cells, add and take away what's needed. So, I assume that if I can get the bone splinters to somehow disintegrate, it should be fine."
She put his hands on Eskel's leg again.
Geralt noticed how his brother's expression softened. He knew all too well what was happening. Kit had worked her magic on him often enough.
"Just out of curiosity: What do you feel when I touch you?"
Eskel pondered for a moment. She said it like it was a normal question for her to ask.
"It's cool, soothing. Like when you burned your hand and put it in cold water afterwards?" He closed his eyes, the soup long forgotten. "Seriously, Geralt, how did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Get yourself a healer. I need one of these!" While Kit's concentration seemed to increase, Eskel started crumbling, lowering himself into a lying position.
"It's a long story."
"I got nowhere else to be," Eskel prompted his brother.
Geralt obliged and recounted all they had learned so far about her abilities and her origin. Eskel seemed to struggle a little with the part where she initially came from a different world.
"We've had guests from another world before," he mentioned.
"I know, I know…" she retorted. "But I didn't choose this, nor do I have any intention to hurt or kill anyone. So, if you don't mind, I would be very appreciative if you could refrain from comparing me to those bloodthirsty, racist elves, thank you very much."
"I give up," Kit sighed after a while and then looked at Geralt. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I think he has to go to bed with us. This is a sleep-fix."
Geralt understood what she meant. She had very little control over how she healed but she had managed to do things while they slept that she had not been able to achieve in a conscious state.
If he was honest, he did not like the thought of sharing their bed with Eskel at all but he also was not going to let his brother suffer when there was an easy solution at hand. So, he just nodded.
"Uh… Are you suggesting that…," Eskel started out but Kit quickly interrupted him.
"I just need to touch you while I sleep, so I can do whatever needs to be done here. Don't ask, I don't know how this works. And before you start peeing your pants: I'm sure it'll be fine if I just hold onto your hand or whatever. You don't have to worry about your virginity." She rolled her eyes, probably more out of discomfort than out of actual annoyance.
"You once said that to me, too, and look where we are now." A dirty grin spread across Geralt's face before he was able to do anything about it. Bragging in the company of others was not usually his thing but in this case he wanted to make sure Eskel knew that she belonged with him. Not that he thought his brother would try anything. It was more of an unreasonable urge Geralt had.
Kit got up, walked around the table and put her arms around Geralt's neck.
"Are we spreading the tale of the innocent witcher now?" She pressed a quick kiss on his cheek before she sat down again next to him and resumed eating the soup that was now cold.
Eskel cocked his head, clearly not sure what to make of the situation. "So the two of you are…?"
"Yes," they answered in unison, not looking up from their food.
"That's not awkward at all," Eskel mumbled under his breath while he fumbled to put his pants back on.
Geralt and Kit inspected the few rooms that still had actual beds in them. Eskel had spent the entire time since his arrival near the kitchen as he was unable to take the stairs with his injured leg. The cots however were much too small for the three of them to share.
"What a view!" Kit exclaimed once she was standing on the balcony of the room they had chosen. The sun was setting over the valley, painting everything in the warm shades of the sunset, soft clouds dotting the sky. Geralt hugged her from behind and rested his head on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry about earlier," he whispered.
"Me too. I should have been more careful."
"I shouldn't have let you stay there by yourself in the first place. Stupid idea."
"Maybe. But it was wrong of me to tell you to not let me in on your fears. You should always be able to tell me about anything." She turned around in his arms and let her hands wander over his chest before they came to rest behind his neck where they caused a pleasant tingle on his skin.
He squeezed her tightly, the knot in his stomach loosening a little, making room for something else.
"Tell me," she urged him.
He shook his head. "I'm being an idiot and you shouldn't have to suffer from that." He kissed the top of her head. He was going to deal with his fears. Alone.
"But you're my idiot."
"I know." He squeezed her tightly until she started giggling.
"You need to heal Eskel quickly. Because this idiot wants you for himself at night," he mumbled in order to change the topic.
He noticed the way her heartbeat sped up.
"And you need to leave and spend some time with your brother," she determined before she pressed her body against his and started to nibble on his lower lip. He hummed before he reciprocated her gesture, caught her mouth and pushed his tongue between her lips. A small sigh escaped her, prompting him to intensify his actions, have his hands wander down her back to grab her cheeks and knead them in his hands.
"Fuck," she murmured.
"If that's what you want..."
"Not a suggestion." She carefully pushed him away, panting, blushing. "Go play with Eskel. You guys probably have a lot to tell each other."
"You sure?" he asked, feeling a little disappointed.
She nodded. "I'll unpack and take a few notes. I expect you both in my bed later." She winked before she turned around to watch the fading sun.
Geralt shook his head, smiling again, and went down the stairs back to Eskel who had busied himself with putting some alcohol on the table.
"I was saving this for a special occasion. It's the last alcohol this pile of crap has to offer," he gestured around him.
"Let's drink to that!" The liquid burned in Geralt's throat and made him feel warm. "Self-brew?"
"No idea," Eskel shrugged, "got it after a job." He refilled their cups.
"What have you been up to for the last years? Except breaking your leg of course."
Eskel chuckled. "Breaking other bones mostly. Really haven't done much other than wandering over the continent, looking for the odd job. It's getting harder. Either there are fewer monsters or people have become better at fighting them without our help."
Geralt nodded. He still took care of the occasional vermin in Toussaint but compared to ten years ago, his skills had been much less in demand.
"World's changing," he shrugged.
"Maybe I need to learn a few new skills. I had actually settled down for nearly a year, did some farming. Didn't work out though."
"What went wrong? Tried to harvest the crops with your sword?"
"I wish. A woman…" Eskel briefly recounted the relationship he had formed with a woman who he had saved from a bruxa. She had invited him to stay and somehow things just evolved. Eskel was glad to have found someone to accept him despite his looks, his profession and his reputation – only to learn that he was merely a replacement for the woman's deceased husband who she had loved dearly and who she would never let go of.
"She didn't actually want me. She just needed someone. Anyone. I left," Eskel concluded with a tinge of bitterness in his voice.
"Sorry to hear," Geralt said honestly.
Eskel shrugged it off and drank.
"Enough of my sob stories. What about you? You got a vineyard and a woman who, it seems, has managed to patch up your ugly visage a little."
Geralt chuckled. To himself he always looked the same whenever he saw himself in a mirror. Dandelion had been the first to notice that his scars had become less pronounced. Now that he had been with Kit for more than half a year, the difference must have been obvious to someone who had not seen him in a while.
"She doesn't even want the scars gone. Always insists she likes them."
"Seriously?" Eskel cocked his head.
Geralt understood that it must have seemed outrageously unfair to his brother who had always struggled with his much more severe scarring.
"People from her world are… different." He remembered how she had compared his scars to broken pottery. "Much more open, I think. Have never met anyone who was quite like her."
"No wonder you are so ridiculously overprotective of her."
"I'm not overprotective," Geralt disagreed. "Just protective."
"You sure? I heard how you berated her for not staying hidden when I found her. You treat her just like Ciri."
Geralt realized two things: Firstly, he had spent too much time away from other witchers and had forgotten that he was not the only one around with a heightened sense of hearing. Secondly, Eskel was right. All this time, even when he had trained her, he had tried to protect Ciri from everything. And now he was doing the same with Kit. And had he not tried to train her as well?
Geralt supported his head with his hands.
"Shit, you're right." How had he not seen this?
"What can I say? I'm not only by far the best-looking person at this table but also the wisest." He grinned but it faded quickly. "Ciri was the only person who I was ever convinced that you truly loved. Until now, that is."
"You have no idea. I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to her."
Eskel cocked his head. "Do you even let her out of the house?"
"Of course – what do you think of me?" he grumbled.
Eskel laughed. "I'm just joking. But if that helps: She could have easily stalled me for ages had she wanted to. I have a distinct feeling she would be able to talk herself out of any situation."
"I hope I won't ever have to find out," Geralt sighed. The knot in his stomach did however loosen more and more after hearing Eskel's words.
Geralt told his brother how his life had improved in so many ways ever since she had been dropped into this world.
"How's she doing, new world and all? She's quite… different. The way she behaves is odd."
"I've pretty much spent every waking minute with her for the past eight months but I still don't feel like I really get her sometimes." He drank. "Sometimes I know exactly how she's going to react to something – namely doing the opposite of what seems reasonable – and I don't understand why, I just know that that's what she's going to do."
"Sounds like fun."
"It is. Mostly."
Eskel nodded solemnly.
"Just one question… You are sure she hasn't bewitched you or anything?"
Geralt rolled his eyes. "Why does everybody think she put a spell on me? Am I not allowed to be happy?"
"Of course you are. It's just… If this is you being happy then I might have never seen you happy. At least not when it comes to women. So…"
"Get it out." A grim look spread over Geralt's face.
"I've never seen you like this. It's strange."
"Get to know her and try to not like her, I dare you."
Eskel raised his hands in an appeasing gesture. "If she makes you happy, I like her. And if she manages to fix my leg, I'll like her even more." He took another swig from his cup. "But I think I need to be much drunker to spend a night with the two of you."
"I'll drink to that!" Geralt raised his mug.
Eskel quickly drank himself to the point where his speech was slurred. After the bottle had been emptied, he had no excuse left to stall anymore. Somewhat unwilling, he let Geralt drag him upstairs – the injured witcher relied heavily on the support of his nearly sober brother.
Once they reached the room Geralt and Kit had chosen, Eskel fell face forward onto the bed.
"That'll make things easier," Kit determined.
Geralt grimaced before he turned his brother over and started to undress him save for his underwear, and then proceeded to undress himself. Kit had put on one of his shirts as she was lacking any clothing for the night. Their travelling plans had not accounted for sharing a bed with another person, therefore she had neglected to bring anything for the night, assuming she would sleep in her clothes when on the road and wear nothing whenever they would stay in a guest house. Geralt wanted to be mad at Eskel for being the reason that he would be denied to nestle against her naked body tonight but then again he loved it when Kit wore his shirts. It made him feel as if she signaled to the world that she was his and there was hardly anything better than that.
Geralt pulled Kit, who had been standing next to the bed, watching the sleeping Eskel, against his chest.
"What's the plan?" he asked her. "How do you want to go about this?"
"I'm glad he's already out. He was right, this is super awkward." She seemed to think for a moment. "Guess we're going to be a sandwich, me in the middle." She smiled. "At least I can say I spent the night between two attractive men."
She crawled onto the bed before Geralt could protest, laying on her side and grabbing Eskel's wrist who twitched and mumbled something in his sleep.
Geralt shook his head. What a weird day, what a weird night. He lay down next to Kit, snuggling up against her back, one arm around her waist. Where their legs touched, Kit's energy tickled him. He pressed his lips onto her neck and extinguished the light of the candles with a snap of his fingers.
Kit's free hand found his and held onto it.
The longer they lay in bed, the more Geralt felt the tension slip away until he finally fell asleep.