Chapter Twelve: This Witcher Ain't Free
Autumn 1274, three months later
Lan Exeter, Kingdom of Kovir and Poviss
Royal Palace
Damien had to admit, he was a little bit uncomfortable.
Although he could act decently within normal banquets, he still never felt very pleasant at them, and mostly just ran on pure confidence. After all, the only real worry was accidently embarrassing oneself in front of a noble lord. His luck had ensured that such had never happened, which is why he rarely left Kovir's lands. The treatment was better, the coin was better, and the people were better.
To some extent.
But a mage council was a completely different set of dice. He was never too comfortable around large groups of mages, and he knew for a fact he did not belong in such company. But here he was, in a guest suite in the royal palace with his sorceress lover, preparing for the first Council of Mages meeting in seven years, since Thanedd Island.
Many were understandably nervous. The invitations had gone out months earlier, and they had received some replies. Most of the Lodge was coming, as were dozens of other mages in Nilfgaard. The entirety of the Corps would be there, massively outnumbering the rest; there were as many members in the Corps as there were invitations that were sent out. Talk about overrepresentation.
Tonight was the banquet. Tomorrow, the conference. Damien had been very hesitant to come, but Triss had pushed him to do it.
He finished fitting his doublet and looked at Triss; she looked absolutely stunning. The dress she had chosen was a maroon dress, and it cut a deep V down her chest, and opened just past her hips. It was light and thin, accentuating her curves. Her fiery hair was partially down, partially up, her favorite style. She was putting on her jewelry when she noticed his stare. She smiled as she looked into the mirror.
"My oh my, Damien. We can't have you thinking such filthy thoughts. Imagine what the others will say." She said mockingly, chuckling to herself as she read Damien's mind. The witcher moved up behind her and placed his hands on the top of the chair, and leaned in next to her ear.
"I'm only imagining what you'll be saying tonight." His breath against her check, she looked away, blushing and giggling like a young girl. She looked back into the mirror, and smirked devilishly.
"I'll hold you to that, witcher. But that is later. We have guests to entertain first." Damien pouted, and she laughed.
The couple left their room and headed down to the main hall where the banquet was being served. Damien looked around the room as they entered, Triss' arm around his. Dozens of witches and wizards had arrived already, and they were all quite intrigued at seeing the pair. Damien knew it was bound to be an interesting night.
They were approached first by a sorceress wearing a tight black dress that revealed quite a lot of skin and showed ample cleavage. Her short black hair and Nilfgaardian necklace allowed Damien to realize who she was, even though he had never met her.
"Fringilla! It's been years!" The two sorceresses embraced and kissed the air around each other's cheeks. Here we go, Damien thought to himself. The introductions, the constant embracing. Damien could hide his distaste around normal humans. But mages had the incredibly rude habit of reading minds; something even Triss did from time to time. Fringilla turned to Damien and reached out a hand, which he kissed while leaning forward without even a second thought.
"So is this the famed witcher who caught Triss Merigold?" Fringilla gave Damien's whole body a long glance, her eyes conveying she liked what she saw. Damien found her breasts quite alluring, but tried to not let that distract him. Unfortunately for him, it appeared both witches had noticed. Telepathy can be quite the tool. Fringilla smirked at him.
"Damien of Oxenfurt. I've heard many things about you lady Fringilla." With that he bowed.
"Indeed you have love. Could you do us a favor and get us some wine?" Triss was trying to hide her jealousy, but Damien could feel it in her tone, but knew it was better to just listen. He left the two sorceresses to grab some wine.
As he went to the table with the wine, and poured two glasses, he was approached by yet another sorceress. Fortunately, this one he knew.
"Good to see you Damien. I'm glad to see your expedition in Poviss went smoothly." Keira stood next to him, getting herself a plate of caviar. Damien looked around to see Lambert sulking in a corner, attempting to avoid the intrigue of one of the younger mages of the Corps. He chuckled to himself at the sight. "Good to see you too Keira. Glad you and Lambert could make it." She smiled, and turned to look at Lambert, shaking her head.
"I leave the man alone for thirty seconds…pardon me, I must go watch my lover. From what I see, you should as well." With that Keira motioned ever so slightly at Triss, who was chewing out Fringilla by the looks. By the time he returned, she had driven the Nilfgaardian sorceress off.
"I was never one for wine, but I'll suppose it will do." He remarked, as he took the glass meant for Fringilla as he returned to Triss' side. She turned to look at him, clearly still annoyed. Once Damien handed her the glass, and she responded.
"You saw the way she was looking at you. Disgusting. That ploughing Nilfgaardian whore…" She took a long gulp of her glass.
"Darling, don't worry about it. They-"
"I know, they just want to test me. I'm aware. It's just…Fringilla in particular…"
"Has shown she can seduce men that both of you find attractive?" Triss and Damien turned to see another sorceress, with short curly blonde hair. She was wearing a thin white and gold dress, and she had a small amulet on her neck as well.
"Nice to see you again Rita. Glad you could make it." With that, Damien realized the woman in front of him was Margarita Laux-Antille. Triss spoke highly of her; she was one of the few former Lodge sorceresses who didn't always have an ulterior motive.
"You as well Triss."
"And yes, Fringilla has shown that…tendency. I'm simply staking my ground, so to speak." Triss said, as she quickly nudged Damien, who was staring deeply at Margarita's body. Dandelion's tales are true, he thought to himself, a figure marveling the likeness of goddesses.
Margarita blushed and winked at him, before walking away. Triss' eyes flared with envy. Damien decided he needed to make it up to Triss. With that, he moved right next to her, laid his chin on her shoulder, and whispered into her ear, "But why would I care about a likeness when I can have the real thing." With that, he kissed Triss on the cheek, and she blushed, smiling.
The two split off, each engaging different guests as they trickled in. Damien was resting on a ledge when yet another sorceress walked up to him.
"So this is the witcher that Triss spoke of. I must say, I can't understand my colleagues' fascination with your profession." With that, Damien turned to see none other than Philippa Eilhart. Her eyes had healed, but there remained scars on either side of her eyelids.
"Glad to make acquaintances, Lady Eilhart." She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, and you're already more respectful then Geralt ever was." He smiled at that remark.
"I may not be as skilled at monster slaying, and I may not have saved the world, but I'd dare say I've spent more time in high company, and know how to treat myself right." He smiled, as he took a glass of champagne from a page and sipped it.
Philippa looked over the crowd. "But much like Geralt, you'd like to believe you are neutral, correct? That in this meeting of mages of the North and South, you are our arbiter, the one who can see beyond borders." Damien followed her glance, and saw that all of the mages had arrived. Most of the Northern Kingdoms were represented, but it was overwhelmingly Kovir and Nilfgaard amulets in the sea of doublets, gowns, and dresses.
"I'd like to believe that I am for the cause of peace, Miss Eilhart." With that, she chuckled.
"And I'd like to believe that the Emperor has graced me with freedom and wants nothing but my well-being. But fortunately, I'm not one for such foolish thoughts. Look at this crowd Damien. You may claim you have no cause, but they see a clearly marked stake on your head." With that, Philippa looked to the other side of the room, to see Francesca Findabair, who was speaking with Triss. Every once in a while, Triss would glance back at where Damien was standing.
"To me, to everyone here, you have declared your allegiance. It's only a matter of time before you're going to be forced to make a decision, pick a side. At least Geralt had the decency to not be with one of the sides' leaders."
"Are you implying that Triss makes my decisions for me?"
Philippa's eyes sparkled with intrigue as she looked to the witcher. "I'm not implying it, witcher. I know it."
"If so, then why bother speaking with me at all? I'm just a lowly mutt to you, an ever obedient sheep. You should be conversing with my shepherd, not bothering yourself with the flock." Damien knew he was letting his emotions get the better of him, but he didn't really care. He was not going to let such words stand alone. He resented the implication that he was just Triss' plaything.
Philippa smiled wickedly. "You misunderstand me witcher. I don't care for the wily and uncontrollable commander. I care about the able bodied ones who suffer beneath. The ever noble servants who deserve oh so much better." With that Philippa moved close to Damien's body, and her breath could be felt on his neck, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Consider it, will you?" With that, she winked, and lightly dragged her hand against his abdomen before walking off. He turned to watch her leave, her hips swaying rather noticeably in her tight blue dress.
"Ahem." Fuck me, Damien thought to himself, as he turned to see Triss standing behind him. Her arms were crossed, and she was clearly annoyed. Damien wanted to defend himself, but Triss interrupted him before he could.
"Spare me it. Please. I know what she was doing, but it doesn't change the fact that it annoys me. I told you to be careful around some of these women, they're highly-" Triss' little monologue was cut short when Damien reached in and kissed her. She was surprised at first, but reciprocated, and it drew a fair bit of attention before they pulled away.
"That…was nice. Thank you." Triss blushed, staring into Damien's eyes.
"Of course. The others should know that this witcher is neither free nor available." Triss smiled to that, kissed him again, and took his hand into hers, as they headed off to speak with some of the other guests.
That night…
Damien struggled to open the door to their suite with his key. Normally, it would be a problem, and it wasn't as if he was drunk.
He just wasn't accustomed to having a beautiful sorceress clinging to his front as he tried to open the door. Triss had wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around her neck, her red hair splashed across his face as he kissed her neck while attempting to open the door. After some struggling, he got it open, entered the room, and locked the door behind them as they closed it.
Triss let go as they hovered over the bed, laying out spread eagle, with Damien hovering over her. He got up onto the bed, kissing every inch of her body as he made his way up to her cherry red lips, still wet from the last time he kissed her, only moments earlier.
They tore each other's clothes off in a frenzy of madness, eagerly groping and grabbing at each other's' bodies. They both knew the other's features to the letter. Damien could trace Triss' hairline scar all the way through the valley of her breasts. Triss knew every bruise, every scar, every mark that decorated Damien's chiseled chest.
The love they made was passionate, energetic, fueled by the flames of a night full of jealousy and longing. Every look another woman had given Damien made Triss ride him that much harder, every insult Damien has sustained made him kiss her that much harder.
After their forth bout in about three hours, Damien took a breather and went out onto the balcony of their suite wearing only his underwear. Triss joined him a few minutes later, wearing a light pink nightgown, and as far as Damien could tell, nothing else. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.
"I love you, Triss." He said, after losing himself in Triss' eyes. She beamed, her eyes wide open.
"I love you too, Damien."
The next day…
Damien felt as if he was going to pass out. The lectures some of these mages were giving were so dreadfully boring they made Ghouls and Alghouls seem like fisstech.
The mages had congregated in a central hall, an auditorium of sorts, located outside of the royal palace, by the local academy. It was not normally meant for a great deal of people, but fortunately there weren't too many mages. As it was a conference for mages, they were all presenting their work and their recent findings. Triss, who was seated a row down from him, was watching with great intensity as their friend Sigi Buntz, the man who had sold them the tower they used as a personal alcove, went on for what seemed like ages about incredibly complex sensation perception charms.
The row in front of Damien sat only a few individuals; people like Triss and the other Lodge sorceresses, important alchemists and enchanters, the like. The row above seemed to be those right below the front row in importance, which was once again why Damien was not happy to be seated there.
Granted, he didn't want to be seated at all, but would have settled for a seat far off, in the back. Instead, he was, struggling to stay conscious, knowing those directly behind and above him could see him if he fell asleep. Lambert was seated next to him, and he seemed to be busy whittling something in his lap with his knife. He knew he shouldn't pay attention to that, as he apparently had to speak next, another move he wasn't happy about. But Triss insisted the mages would appreciate the work he had been doing with golems, and it was difficult to refuse those emerald eyes when they cut through your soul like a knife through butter.
Sigi had finished his presentation. It appeared Damien wasn't alone in being bored; most of the audience did not notice, and it was only after Keira and Triss began clapping that a small smattering of halfhearted applause came. Damien realized it was his turn. He quickly took a swig of Tawny Owl to give himself the energy to get through this presentation.
"Have fun." Lambert sneered quietly as Damien got up, taking his speech with him.
"Bite me." With that, Damien made his way down, and took his place in the center of the room. He looked out over the audience; most were still dozing off, but a decent number looked intrigued. A decent number looked offended, wondering what on earth a witcher could have to add to the world of magic. That look, the look of you don't belong here, you don't understand real magic, made Damien smile, encouraged him. He always liked a challenge. He lifted up his speech, only to decide at the last second to throw it on the floor, immediately drawing intrigued looks.
"Good day, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Damien of Oxenfurt. I am, by trade, a witcher. While I don't use magic on the scale that many of you do, I am often forced to deal with it, and its ramifications, both intended and unintended. Unlike most of my brethren, I have chosen to take an interest in the field of magic; I see the good it can do to the world, and I believe I can add a different perspective." Damien paced around the floor, approaching the side Sigi was on.
"My good friend Sigi Buntz spoke at great detail about the value of incredibly precise sensation perception charms, something that matters to most mages. In fact, perception charms of the like of which Mister Buntz spoke of are most often used to activate secondary or tertiary charms. Defensive ones. The most common ones? Golems." With that, Damien had drawn most of the mages attention, a fact that annoyed several of the mages who had preceded the witcher. It didn't help the man had a natural cadence and a fluid tone, unlike some of the more bookish sorcerers who had gone before him.
It also didn't help that many, many of the sorceresses found him attractive. He smiled upon noticing the attention of the mages.
"That is what I'm here to speak to all of you about; ways to make golems more efficient. As a witcher, I've dealt with my fair share of errant mages and mage hideouts. Golems and other elementals are the most common form of defense I've ever encountered, a statement mirrored by my fellow brother witcher Lambert." With that, he motioned to Lambert, who looked up quickly from his whittling to wave to the audience, producing a wave of giggling from some of the younger sorceresses.
"The issue with golems, and elementals in general, is that they cannot act on their own, and for perfectly good reason. However, that means their actions, to the T, must be taught. And I can speak from personal experience, many of you in this room can barely hold a sword, let alone train someone else." That produced more laughter, from some of young sorcerers Damien had been giving sword lessons to.
"So I decided to see if there was anything I could do. My good friend and mentor Master Fendar has already spoken about the expedition to the elven ruins in Poviss. While he focused on rare artifact collection, I'd like to focus on something I discovered during that expedition: instructions on creating responsive golems." The room took a collective second to ponder on Damien's words.
"The work I discovered, combined with what I've done since, has allowed me to potentially revolutionize the field of golemancy. Rather than a focus on the brute, on the raw power, I propose a system that uses pointed strikes, adaptive posture, and a new standard for teaching golems." Just about everyone in the room was watching him intently. Damien looked to Triss, motioning to her. She understood what he meant, and got up.
"However, rather than simply tell you how it works, I'd rather show you. Guards!" With that, Damien looked to the entrance of the auditorium, and two soldiers of the Koviri Chargers, wearing full chainmail and carrying tower shields in one hand and scimitars in the other, entered. Triss moved out of her seat as well.
"I'd like to also introduce my lovely associate and companion, Miss Triss Merigold, who will be assisting me in this demonstration." With that, Triss turned to the audience, bowed, and then turned to the wall to the left of Damien. She broke the illusion that made it, and revealed a large rock golem, about eight feet tall. She guided the golem into the center of the room, keeping it steady. The audience was going crazy. Many were moving out of the way, but many were moving in closer to get a better look. It was easily the most interesting presentation so far.
"Right there darling. Thank you." Triss broke her bond, and Damien immediately contained the beast with Axii. He moved back several steps, and the guards moved forward. They readied their blades, and Damien looked to Triss again. She nodded after putting herself in a better casting position, and when Damien released the golem, she cast a containment shield around the golem and the guards, one that would allow people through but not golems. As a defensive measure, Damien drew his silver sword as well.
The guards took either side of the golem, shields raised over their heads, angled to deflect an attack. To the surprise of the audience, the golem did not charge at the guards; it first paced around, studying their movements with great precision. It waited, its arms crossed in front of it in a protective stance, until the guard on its right slashed at it, spinning around in the process. Rather than simply take the hit, the golem backed away, dodging the strike completely, and responding with a quick strike to the shield. The hit pushed the guard back, disorienting him, allowing the golem to focus on the other guard. The guard ducked, rolled and struck the golem's other leg; the golem took the hit, but then countered with an incredibly accurate shoulder strike that knocked the soldier to the floor, causing him to drop his sword. The golem went in for another strike, and the soldier raised his shield.
The sound that followed was deafening; the golem shattered the shield and stumbled back, disoriented from the shockwave. The soldier to his right took that opportunity to lung at the golem, but the golem parried the strike with its right arm and slammed the soldier's legs with its left arm, knocking him down as well, with his back to the golem. Damien knew it the man was in danger, and rolled right next to him, as the golem came in with both arms for a final strike.
Damien managed to cast Quen before the golem's arms came down, and the explosion of his shield knocked the golem back, allowing him to take control of it again with Axii. Triss knew she should help, and dispelled the shield and took control of the golem, guiding it back to its containment chamber.
Damien helped the two soldiers back up, as they thanked him for saving them, and they took a collective bow, and the audience erupted in cheers and applause. The soldiers took their leave, Damien put away his sword, and Triss returned to her seat, pleased the display had gone mostly to plan.
Although he was a little shaken up by the near death experience they had encountered, he knew they had done it. He smiled at Triss as he concluded his presentation.
"As you could all see, the golem showed the ability to detect strategies, counter strikes made by opponents, and effectively parry and block without exposing its weaknesses. While it still needs to be perfected, it's clear we stand on the future of golemancy, ladies and gentlemen." With that, he took a bow and picked up what remained of his speech from the floor. The audience began applauding again, and Triss beamed and Damien as he returned to his seat.
That night…
Damien was sitting by the fireplace in their room, oiling his sword. His armor lay on a rack nearby, and he was wearing only loose pants and underwear, preferring the feel of the occasional breeze against his skin. He was lost in thought as he watched the flames dance around the logs when Triss returned. Fendar had pulled her aside as they were heading back, and as a result, he had been waiting for her to return.
She marched in, clearly annoyed. She went to one of her bags and removed a map of the Northern Kingdoms that she then placed on the bed. Damien realized something was up, so he went over to investigate.
"You okay, Triss? You seem tense." He said, as she stared intensely at the map, attempting to gauge travel times for different routes in Kovir and Redania. He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She flinched at first, but relented.
You wouldn't fucking believe Damien. "Tense doesn't even begin to explain how I feel. I had hoped the game of kings and thrones would end with Nilfgaard's victory, but it only seems to get worse. Relationships between Kovir and Nilfgaard are souring. It is quickly becoming obvious that the Black Ones need us more than we need them; the Koviri navy is more than capable of keeping the Gulf safe, and we have good relations with the Skelligers. But Nilfgaard desperately needs our constant supply of gold, silver, and other rare metals to run their factories. Add in the fact that Philippa told me she has reason to believe the Redanian nationalist groups in the Nimnar valley, the Arcsea, and Jamurlak are receiving arms and funding from outsiders and you start to see why I am so stressed out."
Damien looked at the map in front of him. The regions she was describing marked everything north of the Buine and the Nimnar in contention. If Kovir were to do something…
"Any attempt at occupation from Kovir would be ridiculous. Regardless of diplomatic precedence, it would leave a massive northern flank for the Hengfors League to attack, and the empire has the coin to persuade King Neidamir, right?" That was when Triss looked right at Damien.
"And that's where the problem is. King Neidamir has been barely able to keep his lords and the companies in check for the last few decades, but he managed. But things have changed. The man grows old and with it just about everyone is sick of him. Both our spies and Nilfgaard's report there being a plot to assassinate him." Damien was going to respond, but before he could, Triss finished. "And neither intend to intervene." Damien paused, thinking about what had been said.
"Kovir thinks Hengfors will collapse without a leader, and Nilfgaard thinks the companies will have free reign to attack their closest and wealthiest neighbor." Triss nodded slowly.
Damien looked away, before looking back to the map. "I won't lie, I don't like not knowing who's right."
"You are hardly in the minority there, Damien."
End of Chapter Twelve
Author's Note: So, we have reached the end of Act II; Act I was the setup of Triss and Damien's relationship, Act II is the initial phase of their relationship. Almost like a 'honeymoon' stage of sorts. Act III, which will be the final act, is guided by one major story arc, and will feature the real test of Triss and Damien's relationship. I know it sounds mega-cliché, but will they make it, or will something and/or someone break them apart? You guys will see!
An updated list of references, since the last update: How to Avoid Huge Ships, Remembrance of Things Past, James Bond, and To Pimp a Butterfly.
And finally, I will be moving out to college in the coming weeks. That, mixed with the fact the next story arc is going to be very particular with certain details and has required me to do a lot of research for the last few weeks in preparation, means I might not be able to manage the 2-3 day update timeframe I've managed up to now. Don't worry, I haven't given up; quite the opposite. I'm determined to see this to the end.