Chapter IX: The Only One
It was time to tell Triss. He knew it. Though it pulled and prodded on his heart till it ached with despair. He should have done it long ago. Back at Kaer Morhen when he arrived. When he brought Ciri home. When they were in Novigrad making their final preparations. On the long voyage over here. He had so many chances to tell Triss what he had done, small as it may be to her, and tell her he would never do so again. He didn't even have the stones to go speak to Cerys when they arrived at Kaer Trolde's port. He was partially ashamed of himself for the way he treated her. She may have persuaded him, but he gave in. All the Skellige born girl wanted was a pleasant night away from the looming concerns and politics of her land.
The rain dripped lazily from the sky, his white hair getting wet out in the open. The camp the Nilfgaardians set up on Undvik was bustling with soldiers and officers assembling for the fight. Geralt wondered if they really knew what they were up against. When he and his friends defended Kaer Morhen, they barely survived. Geralt grimaced at the sky as he remembered the pain and agony in his heart when he saw Vesemir's lifeless body. The frantic panic that set in when he couldn't find Triss. When he eventually found her alive and well, it was one of the greatest reliefs he had ever experienced. Almost if not as much as when Ciri awoke in his arms on that faraway isle. He wondered now if telling the sorceress the truth would bring a similar feeling. Or just one of regret.
He sat up from the fallen log outside the pavilion. The rest of the group left it after Avallac'h finished discussing all their roles and the plans for how to defeat the Wild Hunt. The entire time, Geralt kept glancing at Triss. She hadn't been the same since sometime after he and Phillipa returned with the Sunstone. Like there was a dark cloud looming over her mind. He wondered if she suspected something. She was the only one left inside the tent now. Perhaps she was waiting for him to return to it after he prepared his potions and bombs. The witcher took a deep breath before he pulled away the flap entrance of the tent and stepped inside.
She stood against the table, its surface covered in maps and other papers. Her hands rested on the edge. Her indigo dress looked darker in this place. The candlelight and grim sky outside likely provided the change. She was facing the entrance, as if she expected him. Geralt hesitantly stepped inside and felt as though the whole world ceased to exist outside of here. He couldn't hear the soldiers armor clanking or the conversations. Not the dribbling rain or the commands. He listened instead to the beating heart of the woman he loved. And could hear his own beat faster and faster.
"Triss," he spoke after a few seconds. She gave him a small grin. "Are you…" he stammered, "feeling ready?"
She chuckled. "I wish I was." There was a prominent melancholy in her tone and expression. "After so many days spent getting us to this moment, I should be. But no. I don't feel prepared at all." He stepped closer to her till he was at her side. She peered up to him with beautiful green eyes. "I… I have something else on my mind."
His throat clenched and his tongue felt fat and useless. "I do too," he managed.
She looked at him as if she already knew. "What is it?"
All the witcher wanted was to sweep up this sorceress and take her far away from here. To ride together on Roach all the way to a boat that would take them to Kovir. All he wanted was to hold her close and never let go. But here he was. Defeated and full of remorse. "I've had something I needed to tell you for quite some time." She nodded her head. "I haven't, not because I don't think you deserve the truth, but because of… how much I worry it would hurt you." Triss put her hand on his and noticed it shaking slightly. The witcher felt like his armor weighed hundreds of pounds. Like this room was a furnace. A tear ran down the side of his cheek. "This is probably the worst time to tell you," he continued. "But I must."
"Geralt," her voice spoke to him in this storm. "I know."
He breathed in sharply. Her soft hand stopped his from clenching any tighter. He didn't want to hurt her any more than he already had. "How?" he mumbled.
A tear came down her eye as well. But she still had a hint of a smile unlike him. Like the whole world wasn't falling apart both inside and out. "Cerys told me." Geralt hung his head in shame. "She said she just wanted to greet us ladies while we waited for you and Phillipa to come back. To apologize for not being able to take part in the fight on account of her being the queen." Geralt almost forgot that the an Craite girl was now the mighty Queen of Skellige. "I could tell there was something bothering her when she spoke to me in private. And the way she asked about you… the tone of her voice." Triss caressed his bearded cheek. Geralt felt as though he could melt in her embrace. "She eventually told me the truth."
"I'm sorry," he blurted. Witchers were said to have their emotions stripped from them after their trials were over. But Geralt knew that to not always be true. And the feelings he had now for the woman that he loved could not be understated. "I'm so sorry." He raised his head back to her with red eyes. "There isn't any excuse," he said.
She pressed her head against his chest. "You could have told me sooner," she spoke. "Not held this in for so long."
Geralt wrapped his arms around her back. "I didn't know if you'd hate me. If you wouldn't care. If you'd just be angry. But I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you. Of making you think that I set you aside."
"I won't lie, Geralt," she said softly. "It made me concerned." She turned her head up to look at him. "It made me wonder if you don't want this life."
He wasn't sure what she meant. His confused expression was likely evident.
"I know you've said that you love me countless times," she continued. "And I believe you. But I worry that someday you're going to… to…
"To what?" Geralt asked.
Triss shed another tear. "To grow tired of me."
The witcher wanted nothing more than to strike himself for ever giving her this idea. A clutching sensation came over his heart. His entire body ached. Geralt made a quiet and solemn promise to himself in that instant. One he would deign to keep for the rest of their long lives. Her arms wrapped snugly around his back, as though she was concerned he would leave her. "A thousand lifetimes could pass, and I would never tire of you," he said. "It would be impossible to not find new things to love about you."
"Maybe you know that," she sniffled. There was a pause. "Why did you agree to spend the night with Cerys?"
He had thought about that himself ever since. There was only one honest answer he summarized. "I was lonely," Geralt sighed. He knew that the spiel about how she reminded him of Triss could only work in fairy tales. "She offered to help me relax. Just for one night. She only touched me," he said clearly. "And I stopped her before I even…
Triss's expression showed she wanted more.
"My entire time in Skellige had been one long heartache for you. I lamented the nights we spent together." He remembered that lonesome feeling. "Cerys let me talk about you. And I tried to convince myself that you wouldn't care. As foolish as that sounds."
"Geralt," Triss began. "As much as I wouldn't love it, I wouldn't hate you either if you went to a brothel someday on the trail. I know you have your needs. But Cerys was someone you knew. And I don't really think I'm comfortable with an open relationship in that way." She almost laughed amidst the two's shared tearful eyes. "I probably sound ridiculous considering the night I set up with Yen. But that's…" she looked at him as if she was worried she'd break his heart. "That's the line. If we want to hire a woman in Kovir to hop into bed with us, I'm okay with that. But I don't like the idea of you being romantic with our friends and people I know outside of—
He lifted her chin. "I would spend the rest of my life worshipping only you if that was your wish. The only thing I need is you."
They kissed there in that damp pavilion amongst the sea of tents and soldiers. She could forgive him easier than he could himself. The time was approaching, the witcher knew. But he wasn't ready to leave.
Triss was obviously troubled about something else as well. She clutched him tighter. "Geralt," she said in a voice that could make any man quiver. "I'm scared."
"Why?"
She sniffled again. He could feel the heat of her body through his padded armor. "I don't want to lose you today. I'm probably being stupid." She wiped her eyes. "But the thought of you getting injured or not… not making it is almost too much to endure."
He leant down and pressed his lips against her forehead. "You don't need to fret about me," he said. "Me and Ciri will make the Wild Hunt wish they never sailed into port." That made her smile slightly. "And you'll rain down hell from above or wherever you can."
She stepped on her tip toes to kiss him properly. Triss could feel his strong form beneath the armor. A sorceress should always know her independence and lack of need for a man to protect her, but she couldn't help herself. The feeling of Geralt's body around hers made her feel better. And it made her want him. One last time before the final fight. "Geralt," she moaned as he kissed her neck. "I know this may sound silly—
She gave a small squeal as she sensed his hand roaming into her undergarment from the gap in her dress. He knew her so well nowadays. What she wanted and when she wanted it. She dug her head into his chest and begged wordlessly for him to touch her. The eager anticipation of his fingers reaching their desired place built up rapidly. And soon enough they touched her sex, causing her to sigh into his body. He wandered around her vulva and finally settled on her clit. She bit her lip as he began circling his fingers over the sensitive spot. The tension she had been feeling loosened in his grasp. His other digits dipped between her folds and brought another moan from her lips. She was getting more aroused by the second. He had no trouble gliding in and out of her sex. Her body tingled with delight. But Triss wanted more.
"Are you okay with this?" Geralt asked as he fingered her. "I can stop if you want."
"Don't you dare stop," she mumbled against his chest. His digits sped up. She could hear the sound of them pushing in and out of her well lubricated entrance. Her legs felt weaker than they had a moment ago. She dug her nails into his padded armor. "Geralt," she whimpered. "I want to feel you one more time before we have to leave."
The witcher planted a series of kisses down her neck, causing her to groan. As he continued to finger her, the sorceress's hands undid his belt. It fell to the floor with a loud jingle. She turned her head to look at the entrance of the pavilion. Soldiers walked across the campgrounds, but none were seeming to take notice of them. Triss dug her hand into Geralt's trousers and found his member. He wasn't erect yet and so she helped fix the problem by squeezing and moving her hand up and down his shaft. Geralt moaned as he felt himself growing in size. Her warm body was a dear comfort in Skellige's cold wasteland. After a minute more of their playful touches, the witcher took his fingers out of her. Triss sighed as she immediately missed his presence. But she knew she was not going to be without him for long. And she'd definitely be rewarded for her patience.
Geralt pulled down his trousers just enough that his erection sprung free. Triss instinctively touched it out of lust. She ran her palm over his tip as he kissed her. His own arousal leaked out onto her skin. Without warning, he then reached under her indigo dress and forcefully pulled down her panties. She was lucky he didn't rip them. Triss stepped out the undergarment and before she had the chance to take off her outfit, Geralt picked her up. She gave a cry of surprise and then quickly covered her mouth, not wanting to alert anyone. The witcher merely grinned as she was taken aback at being eye level with him. Gods he was strong, she thought. Then she realized his purpose. Geralt leaned back against the war table and grabbed both of Triss's legs. She wrapped them as well as she could around his back and then put her arms around his neck.
His penis slid inside gracefully. Triss moaned and closed her eyes as his tip forced her folds apart and entered into her prepared sex. His grip shifted more to her rear and the witcher simply allowed the sorceress to slide down his long member. The sensation of being filled so quickly almost overwhelmed her. She couldn't remember them making love like this before. Geralt relished the warmth and velvety tightness of her body. And he felt calmed as he entered her, letting their worries and woes drift away. In this tent there was no Cerys an Craite. There was no Wild Hunt. There was only the wolf and fox who loved to play whenever they could.
Geralt lifted her back up his erection once she had taken all of him in. She kissed him repeatedly even if he didn't deserve her affection. "Promise me, Geralt," she said lowly.
"What?"
"That you'll be safe. That you won't try and do anything foolish out there." She groaned as she slid back down his thick penis. The lack of control she had in this was surprisingly satisfying. How easily he could lift her up and down like she weighed nothing. She could only hope to hang on to his strong body as he fucked her.
"I promise," he said. He picked up the pace of his movements.
"Good." Triss kept checking behind her to see if anyone was watching them. She didn't quite care about someone seeing them making love. It was that she didn't want to be interrupted. She didn't want this to end. Both Geralt and her wished without words that they could never leave this tent.
Geralt chuckled as her high heels fell off her feet and clanked against the ground. He wondered how she could walk around in those things. But he had other matters more pressing on his mind now. The sensations that his cock was experiencing for one. They were just as delightful as the many times before. However, this day brought a different note to their embrace. A hint of sadness and deep connection. Like they were both troubled over if this would be the last time they became one through carnal embrace. Geralt tried to put the thoughts out of his mind. Yet like how Cerys haunted him, so too did this grim fate.
Triss nestled her head into his neck and moaned louder than she realized as she let Geralt take brunt of the work. The witcher expected any guards nearby could likely hear her sweet voice. They would simply have to live with the fact it was Geralt and not them making her squeal like this. For only he could. And he relished in his blessings as he groaned over the feeling of her vagina milking and stroking him. Yennefer might have felt tighter that night in Novigrad, but Triss's body was seemingly designed to make the witcher orgasm. The way she wrapped around him, snaring him into a deep pit of pleasure. "You feel so good, Geralt," she sighed, and then laughed. "We should try this position more often."
"You like it?" he asked, savoring the sounds she made in his ear. "I just couldn't help myself."
"Well feel free to do it more often."
"Somehow I doubt you'll appreciate me picking you up while you're working in Kovir." He knew that forgetting their present would make her feel better for now at least.
"I think that would make me come even faster," she purred. There was a pause. "I don't think I'd mind."
"Really?"
"I am yours Geralt," she said with a fierceness. She pulled herself from his neck and grabbed his bearded cheeks. With a strong kiss and swirling her hips around his shaft, she showed how she felt about the kink. "And you are mine. I may desire a certain… mouth to help me reach a few tangles on short notice."
"It would be my pleasure to serve," Geralt spoke with a grin. They kissed once more, and Triss's expression betrayed her approaching orgasm.
"Faster," she whispered, closing her eyes. The sounds of his thrusts became louder. Her pants increased as well. Geralt watched with an indescribable affection for her as she felt herself nearing the end. He wanted to end with her. And like it was a too good to be believed climax of a ballad, they would be destined to. His balls began to tighten as they struck against her groin. His tip screamed in delight as it got massaged by every ridge and twist. He pushed himself deeper into her with each thrust. His mind was a fog of sensual bliss.
He watched Triss as her lips let out the most beautiful sounds. He would never again hurt her, he promised. A promise to himself. For there was nothing else he needed. Perhaps Yen was right. He may have pushed against the idea multiple times, but a grain of truth lay inside. He thought about Triss a little more than he realized he did. Because Ciri would also have her friends, she would always have Yennefer, she would have mentors and those she could trust. There would be people to support her wherever she chose to go.
Triss had Geralt. And she would always have him.
"I love you," she gasped as she felt herself orgasm on him. Her eyes clinched tightly shut as she took in the feeling. Geralt didn't even notice his own coming over him at first. He was too focused on the woman he admired.
"I'll always love you, Triss." The only one.
He groaned as he acknowledged his own end. His eyes rolled back as the tip of his shaft twitched with excitement. The witcher let himself sink into a rocking sea of red hair. He wanted to drown. He'd let the sirens of Skellige drag him to the coral and seabed below if that was where Triss Merigold resided. As his penis poured forth his seed into her clutching sex, he believed he was in another world. Like the Conjunction of Spheres happened all over again and took him somewhere fantastic. He reared his head back and bore his fangs as his member pumped inside her. Her contracting vagina rode him for all he was worth. Triss was not only enraptured in her own leg shaking orgasm but in making her one and true lover come as well. She bathed in the sensation of his seed entering her. There were always perks to being a sorceress after all. Her toes curled as she hung onto Geralt snugly. She held him more than he did her, as though she was some nymph in the woods. She wished to never let go. Her body shivered and tingled through her subsiding climax. Geralt could feel the vibrations all along his shaft, making his glans even more sensitive. It pulsed with slightly less vigor as the last of his hot cum plastered her silky insides. And once it was all over, the wolf and fox held one another like that for a minute. Not letting go.
The sound of raindrops and clanking plate armor slowly blended back into their reality. The cold temperature and unpleasant weather. All having vanished just moments ago. Geralt and Triss gazed longingly into one another's eyes for a while. They just couldn't help but wonder what their life would be like after this was all over. Eventually, his penis softened inside her and he pulled out of her tender embrace. She gave a final moan as she felt his seed dripping out of her body now that she was left without him. "Triss," Geralt spoke quietly. "I would live my whole life over again just to feel your arms around me."
She grinned madly at him and shed a tear. This time he hoped it was for love instead of fear. "Geralt… what I said earlier." He set her down on the ground. "If you need to have more freedom than what I said I was comfortable with, I guess I could—
His thumb and index finger took hold of her chin. "All I need is you, Triss. I don't require anything else. All I ever wanted was a night that never ends with you in bed next to me." She nodded her head and then hugged him tightly. Geralt pressed his forehead against hers and grieved the battle to come.
(A Wild Destiny)
His skin felt uncomfortably warm. Like it were soon to be cooked. The embers of the burning ship blazed around him as he stood on uneasy ground. However, he could not keep his eyes off of Eredin. The King of the Wild Hunt paced back and forth across the deck. He had to be tired, the witcher thought. After teleporting several times and fighting a tough duel, his strength must be waning. Yet when Geralt took a step towards him, he could tell there was still enough left in Eredin for him to be a danger. The man's dark and heavy plate armor made a clicking sound every time he moved. The sound of ice cracking. His skull mask showed no emotion other than pure hatred and wrath. Even so, Geralt knew there was a mortal underneath. One who could bleed just like the rest.
"You'll never have her," Geralt muttered to himself. He didn't expect Eredin to hear him. The king responded with a deep cackle.
"I'll kill all you hold dear, White Wolf."
Geralt's head turned to the body of Crach an Craite. Blood pooled from where Eredin cut through the man. The witcher may have betrayed Crach's trust one night weeks ago, yet he would do his damnedest to avenge the man's sacrifice. His own personal rage slowly built up inside as he turned his attention back to the man who killed his friend. He who stormed Kaer Morhen and caused the death of Vesemir. "I've killed all of your closest allies." Geralt performed the sign of Quen around himself and prepared to lunge. "You are the last of them. On a burning ship ready to sink."
Geralt jumped forward and feigned a heavy swing towards Eredin's less protected neck. He responded with a quick parry and a counter strike towards the witcher's back. The sign shattered as it blocked the blow. However, as Geralt put his weight back down on the ship's deck, he did a sudden turn just as the shield broke. Eredin could not stop the blade from piercing through the gap in his visor. The King of the Wild Hunt let out a dark growl as he stumbled backwards against the edge of the ship. He removed the mask a second later and revealed his eye, sliced open and bleeding profusely. The red substance ran down his cheek and wettened his lips. "How?" he asked, not ready to accept his defeat.
"Because I love the people I fight for. And those I fight for in memory. I'll kill any man who dared to harm them." Yet the witcher was a little too sure of himself in this moment. As he stormed towards the weakened man, blade pointed towards him, he neglected to consider a more cautionary approach. As he neared a spot to launch his final blow, Eredin lunged forward out of nowhere. His heavy armor struck Geralt back and while caught off guard, he left himself open. He sensed a sharp pain in his left leg. As he tried to fall back, it screamed at him. The potions were wearing off and his leg had a sizable gash in the thigh. Enough to warrant some concern even for a witcher.
"And I shall make their deaths as painful as yours," Eredin screeched in his normal voice as he raised his sword in the air. Geralt fell to one knee and let Aard knock his opponent back. The great force knocked the king's sword from his hand and sent him against the high side of the ship. Just as his black armor clashed against the wooden wall, the witcher forced himself up and took three purposeful steps. The first two built momentum. On the third he swung his sword in a horizontal swipe and knew it connected. Blood poured from Eredin's neck as he slumped down the side of the ship. Geralt fell to his knees and put his hand on his thigh, trying to apply pressure. His sword fell to his side.
Eredin laid there, showing his red stained teeth in a wicked smile. Like he recalled a particularly good jest. He didn't have much longer. Through a raspy and dying throat, he muttered his last few words. "You fool. Avallac'h has tricked us. He has taken her to the tower. He—
Geralt pulled his hunting knife from its sheath and pressed it into Eredin's sliced throat. It ceased any further words or lies from exiting. It put an end to the King of the Wild Hunt's reign. Yet this was one trophy he desired not to keep. He plucked it out and fell onto his back. The world seemed to slow down.
He pressed against his open wound to stop it from bleeding any worse. He snarled at the air full of embers and smoke. From his back the whole sky appeared to be ablaze. Like Triss had rained down hell from above. He grinned through the pain. If he wasn't a witcher then he would be more afraid of his current situation. His body could handle injuries like this better than most. As he sat up to view Eredin's corpse, his mind went back to the man's last words. The tower. Ciri in the tower. Indeed, when Geralt turned his head to look upon the tower in the distance, it was clear something were amiss. Why hadn't she come for him already? She'd no doubt want to have fought Eredin alongside him.
Then he heard the growls. The sounds of wild animals. Though a bitter cold followed these voices onto the ship. Geralt looked around himself and realized he was being surrounded by the hounds of the hunt. His sword lay just below his feet. Blood stained the wood under his leg. The sounds the monsters made as they climbed up the ship's hull were similar to a crackle. Like a lake of thin ice breaking under pressure. There were many of them, he could tell. Triss, Geralt thought.
Triss.
Is this it?
Triss.
The hounds approached him. Geralt shot a wave of fire from the ground towards a couple and watched as their bodies morbidly danced. He clutched the dagger and reached for his silver sword.
Triss. I love you, Triss.
A loud crashing sound struck his ears and the hounds snarled at someone's presence. "Get away from him!" came a female's voice.
"You grab Geralt!" a different woman called. As one of the elementals leaped forward and clamped its jaws down on the witcher's padded arm, he stuck the dagger held in his free hand into its skull. A surge of purple lightning seemed to be the reason it died, however. Geralt angled his head enough to see two sorceresses on the other end of the ship. One wore a dark blue dress while the other was garbed in black.
Yennefer sent a stream of her magic against multiple hounds and rendered them defenseless as Triss ran towards him. "Are you okay?" her sweet voice asked so worriedly into his ear. "Geralt?" She sounded so afraid. "How badly are you hurt?"
Why is she afraid?
He stared into her emerald eyes and felt like a soothsayer. For he could see their whole lives ahead. "Ciri," he spoke without thinking. "We need to save her. She's in trouble." Triss glanced down at his cut and cussed.
"Stand up as best you can," she said urgently. And so, Geralt did as his love bid.
"Swallow," he whispered.
Triss and Yen grabbed hold of either side of him and helped him walk towards the glowing portal. "We'll find some in Roach's saddlebags," Yen assured him. "Don't worry."
No, he thought. Ciri. The bird. His mind wasn't clear. Yet the potion would be exactly what he needed. When they exited the other side of the portal, he felt himself return a little bit. Triss and Yennefer led him to a rock on the side of a worn-out road. His mare wasn't far. He let out a whistle and watched as Roach trotted towards him eagerly. "Geralt, are you okay?" Triss asked him once more. He turned his yellow eyes to her attention.
He caressed her cheek. "I am now," he said quietly. "I'll be fine." He gave a small chuckle as he thought of something funny.
"What?" Triss asked with a nervous grin.
"You might not have to worry about me getting hurt doing some monster contract now." She looked down at his leg.
"I think you'll recover," she tried to assure him. Or perhaps herself. Yennefer gave a flurry of less than sweet words as she raided Roach's saddlebags, searching for the right vial. "Is that all you need for now?" Triss said.
Her hand laid itself on his. As the world seemed to collapse around them from whatever the tower was causing, Geralt couldn't help but focus only on this woman. This sorceress. Triss Merigold. Fourteenth of the Hill. The most beautiful woman in the known world. The woman he dreamed of. Who he longed and lusted for. "That…" he said as Yennefer rushed over with the healing potion. "And you by my side. We'll get Ciri back." He put his other hand over hers. "Together."