The house felt empty without Regis.

Though Geralt had known from the start that his friend's visit would be brief, it still felt strange not to have him around – not to find him sitting by the fire, smoking a pipe and reading a book from their library. The wingback chair by the hearth felt bare now, as empty as Shani's room at the top of the stairs, and Geralt let out a low hum as he turned away, looking for something to take his mind off his friend's departure.

It had been a strange few days since Regis left; Yennefer had left Geralt alone for the most part, in no mood to talk, but Dandelion, less intuitive, had sought him out more often than not to ask for notes on his latest work. Geralt knew why Yennefer was upset with him – their disagreement over O'Dimm's newest task had a been the darkest he could remember – but he could tell even she was starting to lose steam, with a few days having passed since their discussion. Still, the thought of bringing more bad news to her when she was already upset was a daunting one, and he had decided to give things time to settle, opting to spend these last few days in the garden during the day when he could help it, rather than in the house with his wife.

It was out in the garden on one of these days that Dandelion had found him, cornering him on a bench to play his latest verse; he had set aside the rhyme about False Ciri for the moment, he said, focusing instead on a stanza about Shani's flight to safety. He had gotten stuck in his efforts, however, caught on a passage where he had tried in vain to rhyme "Eskel" with "vessel", and as he finished performing the verse with a bright flourish, he pressed his hand across his lute-strings, muting them as he waited eagerly for his friend's verdict.

"It's bad," Geralt had told him.

Dandelion had hesitated, before finally sniffing, trying to take the criticism in stride. "Which part of the verse did you find issue with?" he asked, his voice strangled, as if asking caused him physical pain.

Geralt grunted. "All of it," he answered, bluntly. "Whole song's bad. Should just scrap the whole thing."

Dandelion had frowned, shifting his lute to sit more comfortably against his chest, taking a moment to chew his lip as he let his ringed fingers play thoughtfully over the strings. "You know," he had finally spoken, looking up at the witcher with solemn blue eyes. "Just because you won't suck it up and tell Yennefer you need to go to Rissberg doesn't mean you can be unpleasant to everyone else in the meantime."

Geralt had faltered, taken aback, realizing with a pang of guilt that Dandelion was right – he had been so caught up in his own problems these last few months that he had completely failed to notice his behaviour in the interim. Dandelion in particular had fielded his unpleasantness with admirable grace of character in that time, he realized, and though the bard had grown used to his usual dry barbs, it was clear he had been deflecting plain abuse for a while now, pretending it was no different. But it was different – his barbs had been sharper lately, more painful, meaning to pierce and wound, and Geralt felt his heart clench at the thought of how much Dandelion had to have endured, to finally decide it was time to say something about it.

"…Sorry," Geralt had muttered, uncrossing his arms to rest his hands on his knees instead. "Lemme hear it again. Except… find another ending rhyme scheme. 'Vessel' feels dehumanizing to Shani."

Dandelion had paused, considering this new critique, before he finally nodded, looking more content this time. "Now that's a good piece of advice," he had agreed, patting his lute. "If only Eskel had some alternate title I could use… you've spoiled me, Geralt, with all of yours. Maybe that can be my next project – writing a few more songs about Eskel? Give him a couple of good titles, maybe bit of well-deserved celebrity for once."

Great had hummed, steeling his brow at the thought. "Just make sure he's okay with it first," he had cautioned. "Eskel's kind of… private."

"But of course!" Dandelion had beamed, dropping down on the bench beside him. "Now help me find a rhyme for 'succubus'."

Their conversation had gone by uneventfully after that, with Dandelion noodling on his lute until it was time to go inside, but Geralt had not been able to shake the feeling, even afterward, that he had hurt his friend more than he let on. He had barely spoken to Dandelion through supper that evening, and had gone to bed with only a small goodnight to the bard, and even now, today, he could not bring himself to face him again, instead sweeping around the house like an avoidant spectre. Geralt let out a frustrated huff as he began up the stairs to Shani's room, unsure how long he could hope to evade his wife and friend before it was no longer possible to avoid them; there was only so much space in Corvo Bianco, despite how expansive it had become since renovation, and he frowned as he rounded the top of the guest-room stairs, standing on the landing to look over the empty bedroom.

Though Shani had only stayed at Corvo Bianco for a few months, the bedroom still felt empty without her – quiet without the sound of her laughter, the coat-stand bare without her green velvet travelling-cloak. The crib Geralt and Yennefer had bought for her still sat assembled in the corner near the bookshelf, but even it looked strangely impersonal now – wooden and plain, without any sort of blanket or mobile to make it hers. They had not had a chance to look for anything to decorate it before Shani had been forced to leave the house, and Geralt frowned at the memory, trying not to take it as an omen of plans cut short.

Moving over to stand by the crib, he ran his hand distractedly along the polished siding, taking a moment to stare at the grainwork before looking up again, taking in the details of the room. Shani's books were still arranged on the shelf nearby, organized alphabetically within similar subjects, and Geralt gave a soft snort as he remembered how anxiously she had arranged and rearranged them on her first arrival. She had been so worried then, so uncertain, still wondering if her decision to keep her baby was the right one, but she had quickly grown out of that indecisiveness, becoming a steadfast beacon to quell Geralt's own self-doubts.

She was every inch meant to be a mother, Geralt thought, while he was still every inch an anxious wreck, and he let out another grunt as he looked down again into the crib, before pausing, noticing something inside it. Since the last time he had been in here, someone – likely Shani – had left the burlap pig he had won for her inside the crib, and he faltered for a moment at the sight of it, before finally chuckling, reaching down to pet the toy's lumpy head. There were still good things in life, he realized – bright spots, if one only took the time to look for them – and there were good people in the world as well, people who refused to allow darkness to consume their view of the world. Shani was one of those people, he knew, and so were Dandelion, Yennefer, and Regis, and Geralt let out a soft sigh as he realized how much he had taken all of them for granted.

Dandelion was only human, and he had endured far more than any friend could be expected to – and Yennefer, only human as well, had endured even more, with only support to show. It was not her fault she had reached her breaking point, nor was it her responsibility to continue shouldering his burden without objection, and he frowned as he realized that the only one being unreasonable out of all of them was him. Yennefer deserved to know where he was going, as much as he hated the thought of telling her, and Dandelion deserved proper recognition for all the hard work he had put into their situation so far. He had gone above and beyond in his efforts to help – keeping Shani protected on the road, using his influence to get Geralt into Beauclair's palace, even offering to move his whole life out to Toussaint to be nearer to Geralt and the baby.

Geralt frowned as he reached the bottom of the stairs, realizing just how little he had taken any of that into consideration, before he finally took a deep, readying breath, listening for a moment to the voices coming from the breakfast-nook. They seemed to be in a good mood, from the sounds of lute-music wafting out on the air, and though he hated to break their cheerful atmosphere, he knew he could not afford to put off his announcement about Rissberg any longer. Dandelion had been blessedly vigilant not to mention any word of his plans to Yennefer over the last few days, giving the witcher ample time to tell his wife of his own accord, but even so, he found it hard to think about, even knowing it could not be avoided. Letting out a wary breath, he started his way towards the nook, pausing another moment at the opening, steeling himself for his announcement, before he finally stepped into the entryway, looking in on his wife and friend conversing casually over lunch.

"Going to Rissberg," Geralt announced, the words leaving him in an awkward tumble before he could stop them.

Yennefer paused, before finally looking up, seeming surprised he would interrupt them with such a bold statement. "To Rissberg?" she asked. "To the Wednesday markets? That seems unnecessary. We've no need for more magical items."

Geralt shook his head, frowning a bit. "Rissberg Castle," he clarified. "Got a new lead. Following it there."

Yennefer hesitated, her expression hard to read. "Rissberg Castle?" she finally asked, sounding less surprised than he might have guessed. She paused again, taking a moment to think, before she finally looked up again, taking a deep breath in. "I wouldn't, if I were you," she informed him, frankly. "No matter what sort of lead you might've been given to the contrary. A place with a reputation like Rissberg Castle is not to be taken lightly—it's risky and foolish to go alone, even for a witcher."

Dandelion raised his brows, nodding enthusiastically. "I wholeheartedly agree," he put in, getting to his feet with a brave expression. "Which is why I'll be travelling with him. A verse about a haunted castle will be just the thing to spice up my latest work."

"You'll do no such thing," Yennefer told him, her voice so sharp it nearly made the bard wince. "You'll not be going to Rissberg, either. And you'll not encourage Geralt with your shenaniganry."

Geralt grunted. "Yen's right," he agreed, causing Dandelion's smile to wither a bit at being turned down twice. "Got a different job for you, anyway. More important. Need you to check up on Ciri for me."

Dandelion hesitated, wavering a moment between his want for a story and his eagerness to see Ciri, before he finally returned to his bright smile, plucking the strap across his chest like a proud lute-string. "It would be my honour to pay a visit to the empress," he said, giving a low, playful bow to show his enthusiasm. "Perhaps she'll have something for me to use in my work as well. Audiences love political intrigue."

"Take this," Geralt answered, reaching up to pull his portal medallion from around his neck. "Got Yen to portal me now, so don't need it. Don't forget to bring it back when you're done, though."

"I wouldn't dream of forgetting," Dandelion assured him, reaching eagerly for the medallion and taking it with a soft gasp. "Perhaps I'll use it to visit the Chameleon, while I'm at it. See what old Zoltan's been getting up to in my absence. And perhaps I can talk to Priscilla while I'm there, see if I can convince her to move down to Beauclair with me." He paused, staring at the milky disc, before he looked up at Geralt again, curiously. "How soon do you think you'll be needing it again?" he asked, clearly hoping for a specific answer. "I don't want to go on a grand adventure if it means you'll be without, but… I do have a few other places I wouldn't mind visiting."

"Keep it for however long you need it," Yennefer assured him, looking back at him across the table again. "As Geralt said, I'm available to portal him to wherever he needs. Which won't be anywhere for a while, if he knows what's good for him." She paused, turning her gaze to her husband again, as if daring him to challenge her on her confidence, but Geralt only returned the pointed look, before nodding, turning his attention back to Dandelion again.

"'Long as you use it to visit Ciri, don't care how long you keep it," he told the bard, frankly. "Haven't heard from her since she left Corvo Bianco. Wanna make sure she got back to Vizima safely."

Yennefer frowned, her expression growing grave. "Not even a letter?" she asked. "I know she kept my kestrel."

"Those kestrels are the most fascinating things," Dandelion put in, pulling his lute around to settle into his chair again. "There's a couple that hang around the manor, I've noticed, though one is much friendlier than the other. I don't know why the other one is such a curmudgeon – do you know what it said to me the other day? It called me a phony! 'As shallow as the tales I tell.' Hmph!"

Geralt faltered, looking over at the bard again. "Two?" he asked. "Only ever seen one."

Dandelion frowned, giving it some thought, brushing his fingers lightly over his lute-strings in the ghost of a tune. "No," he finally determined, looking up at the witcher again. "I'm sure there's two. One is Regis', which likes to roost in the garden tree… but the other hangs around the gate, occasionally. Nasty fellow, that one. Ugly, too."

Geralt looked over to Yennefer at this, who seemed preoccupied, paying no mind to talk of the kestrel. "Thought you only conjured two," he told her, worriedly. "One for Regis, one for Ciri. You conjure another?"

Yennefer hesitated, before she finally looked up again, her lips pursed, seeming almost annoyed he might ask. "I've only conjured the two recently," she answered, matter-of-factly. "You were there when I conjured both, Geralt. You know this. This other bird may simply be one I conjured a while ago, coming back to find me. As I've told you, they exist until they don't. I wouldn't be overly concerned about it."

Geralt hummed, relaxing at the assurance. "Remember you conjured one for me years back," he agreed.

Yennefer nodded, still seeming preoccupied. "Yes," she said. "But I likely destroyed that one once it completed its purpose. It's been twenty-some years, which makes it hard to remember… but you mentioned you released it of its duties once you received your letter. With that done, it had no other use to me, so I likely disposed of it soon after."

Dandelion sucked in a hiss through his teeth, leaning back in his chair and strumming his lute softly. "Pray hail such thoughts on love and life which ere the sorc'ress grants us," he sang, quietly. "Yet if I were thee, I'd assuredly be, reading up on the praying mantis—"

"Dandelion," Geralt snapped, causing the bard to stop immediately.

Yennefer paused, seeming not to have registered anything Dandelion was saying, before she turned her attention back to Geralt again; she seemed distracted, he noticed, moreso than talk of her spells would usually warrant, and he frowned as he waited for her to speak, wondering what could possibly be on her mind. "The kestrel could be trying to deliver some missive from whoever I conjured it for initially," she added after a moment, still seeming unfocused. "Still acting under its original master's command, doing what it was created to do. Or, if it is coming back to find me, then it's likely been released after completing its mission. And if that is the case, then I'll dispose of it as well, if I happen to see it around."

Geralt made a face at her answer, not sure he liked how dismissive she was being of this new development, but he did not have time to say as much, as Yennefer quickly looked up at him again, taking a deep breath to continue. "Regardless, the activation phrase for the amulet is va aép," she said, clearly addressing Dandelion, though her eyes stayed fixed on Geralt. "Just say that, then speak the name of the place you wish to go, and envision the destination in your mind. The amulet will do the rest. Let us know as soon as you've made contact with Ciri – you can use her kestrel to reach us, if she hasn't disposed of it yet."

"I'll send word the second I see her," Dandelion agreed, getting quickly to his feet again, now that he had his activation phrase. "But—one last thing, if you wouldn't mind. Would you please keep Pegasus safe while I'm away? He has awful separation anxiety, and if he knows I'm gone, I'm afraid he'll become quite melancholy."

Geralt faltered, thinking back to the lazy horse who would often wander off to find a patch of flowers to graze in; the horse who had shown time and again he would rather spend time in a stable lying down than roaming the countryside on the adventures Dandelion wrote about. He had no doubt the bard, in his fantastical way, had attributed human characteristics to the gelding, perhaps believing them, but Geralt had never known a horse that could not be easily placated with some oats and a good brush-down, especially Pegasus. "Stablehands will take care of him," he assured the bard, glancing over to Yennefer, as if to confirm this fact. "Won't tell him where you've gone. Far as he knows, you'll be here the whole time."

"Excellent," Dandelion beamed, seeming to take the witcher's dry sarcasm as sincerity – something he had to have done intentionally, Geralt thought, as he was sure Dandelion knew him better by now. "With that reassurance, I'll be off. Fare thee well, you two. I'll be taking this outside, as I'm sure opening a portal in the house would be… inadvisable."

"Not my preference," Geralt agreed, looking again to Yennefer for some follow-up remark, but it seemed she had nothing to add, only watching as Dandelion turned to leave, heading for the front door. Geralt watched as the bard disappeared, before turning his attention to his wife again, taking her in for a silent moment, hoping she might have something to say, some observation to break the uncomfortable quiet. Yennefer looked oddly stiff still, he noted, lost in thoughts of something far from their current conversation, and he cleared his throat to get her attention, reaching out to slide his wine glass towards the edge of the table.

"Fringilla told me about the Lodge's request," he told her. "About how they asked you to consult with me about the discs."

Yennefer hesitated, still not making eye contact. "And?" she finally asked, sounding almost impatient.

Geralt took a deep breath, staying civil. "Been keeping things from me again, Yen," he said, solemnly. "Thought we were over that. Thought there were no more secrets between us anymore."

Yennefer pursed her lips, considering for a moment, before she tilted her head, letting a lock of dark hair slide over her shoulder. "You'd really believe Fringilla over me?" she asked, sounding insulted, though too tired to be upset about it. "I suppose it's to be expected. You'll believe anyone over me anymore, it seems." She frowned, her thinned lips tightening, her hands folding together in a knot in front of her, her teeth clenching visibly through her pale cheek, making her jaw sharp as glass as she took another long breath to speak. "I'd hardly consider it a secret," she finally admitted, sounding impassive, tired of his attempts to corner her. "Triss told you about the artefact Eskel found, and about the weakening of the fabric. There really wasn't any more to tell."

"Clearly something," Geralt argued, steeling his lips at her dismissive answer. "What'd they want you to ask me? Something they found out about the discs that you're not telling me?"

"Quite the opposite, actually," Yennefer returned, raising her brows, though still not lifting her gaze to acknowledge him. "They wanted to glean your expertise as a witcher, but I told them you had nothing more to say on the matter. You'd made it clear you had no idea where the discs were coming from, so conveying the Lodge's interest in them would only have caused further conflict and headache. I didn't wish to be drawn back into their affairs, and I told them as much. Their refusal to listen doesn't mean I've broken any sort of trust by doing exactly as I said I would."

Geralt hummed, finding her logic hard to argue. "Hm," he said. "And Ban Ard? Ever intend to tell me they practice black magic there? Necromancy? Ever gonna tell me about the experiments they used to run on Sources, lycanthropes?"

Yennefer hesitated again, her pink lips thinning as she stared at the tablecloth, as if hoping to find something written there, before she finally lifted her gaze again, resting her violet eyes on her husband's golden ones. "I didn't tell you about those experiments because they don't run them anymore," she explained, her practiced composure starting to wane with annoyance. "They haven't for a long while – not since the Brotherhood of Sorcerers became defunct, or perhaps a bit after. Ban Ard is one of the last magical institutions on the Continent, along with Aretuza, and both are currently struggling under the residual impacts of Radovid's reign. Margarita still hasn't been able to find all the students she lost contact with when Aretuza was attacked by Radovid's forces."

Geralt frowned at the news. "Radovid attacked Aretuza?" he asked, concerned.

Yennefer nodded, her expression solemn. "He did," she confirmed. "As I heard it, his witch-hunters burnt it nearly to the ground. I'd be surprised if there's anything left of it… I'm sure they would've burned the students along with it, had they had the chance before Margarita evacuated them." She paused, her expression growing grim, clearly thinking back to the memory of Margarita's distress, before she finally took another deep breath, swallowing a lump in her throat before continuing. "I suppose that's why I've been so protective of Ban Ard," she explained, looking up at Geralt again, intently. "I didn't wish for it to be thrown into a negative light for its prior actions. Not when magical academia as a whole is hanging on by a thread already."

Geralt hummed, unsettled by the thought. "Probably means any research records at Ban Ard are long gone, too," he concluded, solemnly. "Either from already being ransacked, or preemptive measures in case of attack."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Yennefer agreed, letting out a weary breath. "What exactly were you hoping to find there, anyway?"

Geralt paused, before finally shrugging. "Dunno," he admitted. "Some clue about the discs. Who's behind them. Maybe see who funded the expedition to the vampiric gate. Only clue I've got now says it was someone from Ban Ard, using research they got from Rissberg."

Yennefer frowned, looking troubled. "I suppose that means you'll be going to Rissberg after all, then," she said, looking up at him again.

Geralt nodded, his expression grave. "Have to," he agreed. "Gotta figure this out. Put an end to it."

Yennefer paused, considering for a moment, before she finally lowered her gaze again, reaching out to adjust her silverware. "I see," she said after a while, her voice stiff. "Well, I doubt there's anything I can say to stop you."

Geralt faltered at her reaction. "Dunno why you'd want to," he admitted. "Trying to make things better. Make things right."

Yennefer was silent for a moment at his answer, her brow furrowing again as a muscle twitched faintly in her cheek, before her expression began to grow slowly more solemn, less composed, as her discontent began to show through more plainly. "It's nothing to do with making things better or worse," she told him after a while, her voice low, still not looking at him as she spoke; there was a graveness in her voice this time, he realized, a quietude that caused the hair on his arms to stand on end. He was not afraid of his wife, but her tone was one he had heard from her only a few times before – one that told him there was no way out, no words he could say to fix what he had broken. She took another deep breath, holding it for a while, as if to contemplate the silence, before she finally let it out in a low, slow exhale, turning her eyes up to meet his in a stoic stare.

"The truth of the matter is… I'm not entirely sure I know you anymore, Geralt," Yennefer told him, honestly. "And that frightens me, in a way I'm… not quite sure how to process. I've been trying, Melitele knows I've been trying, but… the new normal keeps changing too quickly for me to catch up. You're not the same man I met so many years ago, in Rinde… and I'm not entirely sure you're the same man I married, either. I'm not sure who you are now, and it hurts to know there's a stranger sharing my bed, where there should be my husband." She paused, her violet eyes lowering to rest on the table between them again for a moment, and Geralt felt his heart clench at the sight, blocking his throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe. He could tell she was hurting, though her jaw stayed set, her lips firm and impassive, her posture straight and composed, and he could only take a stiff breath as he waited for her to continue, hoping that was not the end of her statement.

"The man I met in Rinde…" she continued after a moment, sounding as if she did not know if there was a point in going on. "He knew his limits. He knew when to walk away from something he could see was too great to handle. It was I who was the reckless one then, and you were the one who showed me what damage that recklessness could wreak. And for as long as I've known you, you've always been someone others could turn to, to find a light in the unrelenting darkness of this world." She fell silent again at the thought, her brow furrowing deeper, as if having not considered the weight of her words, before she thinned her lips to a solemn ribbon, taking another shaky breath to continue.

"But what happens when you stop fighting that darkness, and succumb to it, yourself?" Yennefer asked him, her voice quiet. "When despair overwhelms that light, swallows it whole, until there's nothing left of you but darkness? What am I to think of a husband who refuses to acknowledge when enough is enough?" She stopped, pursing her lips, taking a moment to compose herself again, before she finally turned her gaze up to meet his, her jawline rigid from clenched teeth he could tell were trying to hold back tears. "You've nearly died more times than I can count," she told him, causing a twinge of guilt at the realization that she was right. "And if O'Dimm has his way, he'll keep driving you towards the edge of reason until you're finally driven over."

Yennefer stopped again at this, falling silent, sucking her lip as her slender chin trembled, before she finally took another deep breath, reaching across with both tiny hands to take one of his in both of hers. "I can't stand to sit here and watch you destroy yourself in the hopes that it might someday subside, might someday yield a result other than heartache," she told him, solemnly. "If you cannot be counted on to save yourself, seeing what is happening already… I'm not sure I have that capability, either." She frowned, staring at him in weighty silence, waiting for some response, some reassurance from her husband, but he could only stare back just as wordlessly, too lost in his thoughts to know what to say. He had wanted to know what was wrong, had wanted her to express herself, just as Regis had said, but now that she had, he was finding it hard to take, like wading through icy water that was only growing colder.

"What would Ciri think if she saw you like this?" Yennefer suddenly insisted, causing him to look down quickly, having not expected that guilt. "Saw you draining yourself like this, pushing yourself until you break? Ignoring every offer of help, every imploration for you to stop? Every desperate plea for you to listen to anyone or anything but your own stubborn resolve to complete these tasks?"

"Ciri would do the same thing," Geralt pressed, his expression hardening as he looked up at her again. "If she knew what was at stake. Wouldn't let anything stop her. You know that."

Yennefer hesitated, staring at him a moment, before she finally took a deep breath, seeming more resigned than distraught by his answer. "We've faced death together more than once, you and I," she told him, seeming to all but ignore his statement about Ciri. "But I always knew, even then, that at least we were together. Now… I don't feel that anymore." She frowned, her soft hands squeezing around his for a moment, before she finally drew them back again, and Geralt reached out his own hand in a reflex response, not ready to let her go just yet.

"I feel you'd martyr yourself to save everyone else, with no consideration that I would rather die with you than sit back and watch you die," Yennefer added, solemnly. "Doing that would kill me. It would kill me, Geralt. And I don't know how else I can tell you that to make you listen."

"I'm listening," Geralt assured her, reaching across to place his hand over hers again, but Yennefer only shook her head, drawing her slender hands out from under his to place them in her lap.

"I don't think you are," she told him, letting out another soft sigh as she met his eyes, her expression sad. "I don't think you've been listening for a long while. Otherwise, I don't believe you would keep doing this." She paused, sucking her lip again, looking down to his hand still sitting solitarily in front of her, considering the ring on his finger for a moment, as if trying to convince herself of its meaning. "Watching you bleed yourself to nothing… it's killing me," she told him, barely speaking above a whisper this time. "And I'm not sure how much longer I can be expected to sit around and watch you die slowly."

Geralt hummed, realizing how much he had to have hurt his wife to make her say these things, before he pushed his chair back from the table, moving around to stand beside her chair instead. He passed a gentle thumb over her cheek, before sliding a finger under her chin to lift her head, turning her eyes to meet his again. "It's almost over," he assured her, speaking quietly, though he could tell even that was hard for her to hear. "After Rissberg, it's done. I swear. No more contracts, no more adventures. Just you and me." He paused, watching as Yennefer furrowed her brow ever so slightly, still not believing him, and he realized that, after all the times he had promised this before, she had no reason to think this time would be different.

"Once Shani has the baby, gonna settle down for real," he assured her, undeterred. "Be a family. Live a normal life. Won't have to worry about any of this ever again."

Yennefer hesitated, her expression hard to read, as if trying to convince herself there might still be hope, before she finally let out another breath, not moving her head from her husband's hand. "But what happens if O'Dimm forces you to choose?" she asked, her voice soft. "You have to save the baby, Geralt. It's the only way."

Geralt shook his head. "Won't let O'Dimm win," he insisted, firmly. "Gonna find out what's going on. See if I can't get around this contract somehow."

Yennefer made a face at his answer, reaching up to take his hand from beneath her chin. "Don't try to be clever, Geralt, please," she begged, holding his hand anxiously in both of hers; he could hear the fear in her voice, feel the faintest tremble of her fingers against his palm, and he had to convince himself to appear impassive, unused to seeing his wife so vulnerable. "Not with everything that's at stake. You know what he said. If you try to save both, I'm afraid you might lose them instead."

"Can't let him win, Yen," Geralt pressed, squeezing her hands ever so slightly in an effort to comfort her. "Can't let him kill Shani. Not after everything we've sacrificed. It's not fair."

Yennefer hesitated again, her expression drawn, conflicted, finding it hard to settle on a single emotion, before she finally stood from her chair, moving her arms around her husband to draw him in tightly. "I love you," she told him, quietly, her voice muffled as she buried her face in his chest. "I don't wish to fight with you anymore, Geralt. It isn't worth it. I don't wish these to be our last memories."

Geralt frowned, holding her close, before he leaned back a bit, tilting her face up to meet his again. "Nothing's gonna happen to us," he assured her. "Promise. Lots more memories to make." He paused, before smiling down at his wife, noting the way her lips parted ever so slightly as she stared into his eyes, the way her breath caught in a whispering shudder, trying so hard to believe what she was being told. Sliding a finger under her chin, Geralt leaned down, pressing his lips gently to hers, feeling the warm exhale of her sweet breath as she let it out in a sigh of relief. He could feel her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, holding on tightly, not wanting to let go again, and he brushed a lock of raven hair away from her face, running a gentle thumb across her cheek as he kissed her again, tenderly.

Yennefer let out a trembling breath as their lips finally parted, reaching up to cup his scruffy face between her shaking hands. "We haven't time for this," she breathed, trying to convince herself, but she quickly gave in again, her lips finding their way back to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his as she kissed him again, passionately, desperately, and he let out a soft grunt as grabbed her up under her thighs, hoisting her up to his waist. Yennefer gasped as she was lifted off the floor, before wrapping her legs securely around his midriff, pushing his hair back from his face as she kissed him again, just as eagerly, never wanting to stop.

He could feel the flutter of her heart through her chest, taste the sweetness of her tongue in his mouth, and he turned quickly for the master bedroom, leaving the mess of the morning's breakfast for Marlene to attend to.

Their clothes were already on the floor as Geralt laid Yennefer back against the pillows, watching her perky breasts heave, her dark hair spread in a halo behind her, framing her face like a heavenly being. Yennefer moaned impatiently, reaching out with eager hands to pull her husband in to meet her, kissing him feverishly, and Geralt hummed low and animalistic in his chest as he straddled her, feeling her teeth scrape his lip as their mouths finally parted. "Geralt," she breathed, clutching his wintery hair as he rocked against her, before she let out another soft gasp as she felt his warm cock brush tantalizingly across her stomach.

He was already wet with precum, dribbling onto her stomach and across the covers, and she bit her lip at the sensation, reaching down to stroke her slender fingers across his length. Geralt huffed, gritting his teeth, before leaning forward to press his face into her curls, breathing in the intoxicating scent of lilac and gooseberries and feeling a shudder run through him with every pass of her talented hand across his cock. She knew what she was doing, moving down, and then up, teasing her soft thumb across his pulsing head, rubbing her pad in agonizing circles before moving down again, making him desperate for more. Her hands were so small, so delicate, but they were just the right size to drive him mad with every motion, and he pressed another hungry kiss to her lips, breathing in ragged as she teased his tip again.

Geralt choked back a breath as their lips parted, watching as she smiled up at him, seeing that impish look in her eyes, the breathless cat-like grin that let him know she knew exactly how she was tormenting him. "Monster hunter," Yennefer teased, moving her hand to the tip of his cock again with a wry little smirk. "The brave witcher, laid so low he can barely speak. Oiling his blade to slay an ensuing adversary."

Geralt grunted, gripping the pillows behind her, biting his lip as a bit of froth escaped the edge of his mouth. "Still got a couple tricks up my sleeve," he finally managed, his voice a low growl, forcing it past trembling lips. Leaning down to her again, he kissed her cheek, and then her jaw, shifting his position to better spread her legs, before he reached down with a hand to massage between them, watching as she bit her lip at the sensation until it paled. She moaned, leaning her head back to the pillows, her shoulders rolling, before she gave another sharp, hiccupping breath, her delicate hand stalling on his cock as she shuddered beneath him, caught entirely under his spell.

Geralt grinned, pleasuring her in a slow, practiced rhythm, feeling as she fought to keep pleasuring him back; he could feel her weakening with every pass, but he found he did not even mind her stopping. The sight of her gasping, moaning, weak with pleasure, trembling at the touch of his hand, was more than enough to get him where he needed to be, and he let out another gruff chuckle, wetting his lips as he returned them to hers for another kiss.

"Geralt," Yennefer moaned, retrieving her hand, having lost all concentration, and Geralt gave a low grunt in response, kissing her porcelain collar-bone again. He could feel her heart through her chest, smell her ecstasy as she rocked against him, hear her pleading moans, like wild music to his ears, and he kissed her breasts again, letting his teeth graze her nipples, causing her to give a soft yelp of surprise. He grinned, closing his lips around her nipple, sucking it softly, letting his tongue play gently around the petal pink, before he moved down next to kiss her ribcage, feeling her jump and shudder against his calloused hand as he made his way towards her navel.

"Please," Yennefer breathed, her toes curling into the sheets as he pressed his fingers into her warmth again. "Inside me, Geralt. I don't care what else we do, but I want you inside me. Give me that."

"Give you whatever you want," Geralt answered, pulling his glistening hand from between her legs, and he kissed her neck again, feeling her muscles move with a gasp as he finally slid his length inside her. Yennefer let out a moan, closing her eyes as she rocked her hips with his, letting him take the lead, causing the bed to creak and groan as they moved together as a single entity. He kissed her again, her jaw, her lips, noting the pink flush that had overtaken her face, seeing her long, dark lashes flutter softly against her cheeks as she took another trembling breath in. She gasped, reaching up to entwine her slender fingers around his neck, before moving them slowly down his back instead, letting them travel over every scar and blemish on his familiar skin as he fucked her.

She could feel the muscles of his back against her fingertips, driving her wild as he pushed inside her again, and she let out another shuddering breath, pleading in wordless ecstasy for him to keep going. "I see… a garden," she suddenly said, sounding surprised, as if she had not expected it. "A garden with trees… vines… roses! It's our garden here at Corvo Bianco! Geralt—"

"Keep looking," Geralt answered, kissing her neck as he pressed inside her again. "Been thinking about it for a while. Was wondering when you'd finally find it."

"I didn't wish to pry—" Yennefer began to say, only to moan again as he rocked her against the pillows with another thrust, digging her nails into his back as he kissed her lips, stifling any further objections. She took a shuddering breath as they parted, swallowing dryly and wetting her lips, before she wrapped her arms around his neck again, looking up into his golden eyes as he thrust inside her. "I see… us," she told him breathlessly, her voice lilting in pitch as the bed creaked behind them. "You and I, in the garden… it's so beautiful. And we're… not alone. There are others with us—" She gasped, her vision cutting short as he pressed inside her again, feeling her shudder beneath him, her legs trembling against his thighs as he felt her encompassing warmth around his cock.

She was wet, so wet, but so was he, dripping with sweat as he kissed her, desperate for her taste, huffing and grunting like a wild man as he waited for her to continue reading his mind. "There's Shani, and Dandelion, and Priscilla," Yennefer said after a moment, gasping for breath as he thrust inside her again. "And Ciri is there as well, and… a little boy… a little redheaded boy… is that Shani's child?"

"Said you were hoping for a boy," Geralt told her, his breath hot, voice low as he kissed her ear.

Yennefer nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes…" she agreed, feeling him thrust again. "Yes… I did say that… you remembered…!" She moaned, biting her lip as he fucked her, causing the bed to creak and groan with their passion, before she reached back, gripping the pillow behind her head and letting out a shuddering breath, her lashes beading with sweat. "There are two others there as well," she said after a moment, her breath catching, breasts trembling beneath him; he could see her pale throat shuddering with ecstasy, making him want to suck on it as she leaned her head back, exposing its swan-like length. "But… I don't recognize them. They're… children? Two dark-haired children… Whose children are these, Geralt? They look almost like…"

"Ours," Geralt said, kissing under her jaw, forcing her to lift her head to accommodate him. "They're ours. One boy and one girl. Look just like you. Exactly how I wanted."

"Ours…" Yennefer repeated, the word seeming to arouse her more than anything he had done so far. "But…" She gasped, biting her lip again, before she reached up with shaking hands, taking his face between them. "What if I wish them to look like you?" she insisted, swallowing hard as she tried to catch her breath enough to speak. "Perhaps I could change your mind… since you've already so kindly allowed me in to read it."

"Decision's not up to me," Geralt answered, clenching his jaw as he thrust inside again, hearing her moan; he could feel the urge to come building, but he was not quite ready to release just yet. He could feel Yennefer quivering beneath him, her pale breasts heaving, glistening with their mingled sweat, her raven hair shining in soaking ringlets against the pillows, wet with perspiration. "Totally random whose genes they'll get," he added, kissing her lips again. "Only way to know is try."

"Then let's try," Yennefer agreed, sliding her arms around his neck as she kissed him back, desperately. "Perhaps something will change this time. It never hurts to try."

Geralt hummed, kissing her jaw, letting his mouth linger around the soft cusp of her ear, sliding his hand around to her back as he drove into her again with a grunt of pleasure. She moaned, and then gasped, her knees giving a sharp jerk as they pressed against his sides, holding him tightly, leaning her head back to the pillows as her legs tensed and shuddered, dripping sweat down his muscular thighs. He pulled her in close, feeling her breasts press against him as she gasped for breath, her heart beating wildly like a butterfly's as he fucked her, harder, faster, gaining momentum with every thrust. He could feel her nails digging into his back, her body shaking with adrenaline as he drove inside her, until her breath began to stagger into pleading yelps, punctuated by his hips against her dripping thighs.

"Fuck me, Geralt," Yennefer gasped, her lips trembling. "Put a child inside me…!"

"I intend to," Geralt answered, huffing and thrusting inside her again. He could feel her moving under him, lithe and supple as she mirrored him, knowing him by heart, until she suddenly gave a sharp jolt, throwing her head back with a frenzied gasp and moan. He could feel her body tensing, vibrating beneath him as warmth dripped down her thighs, and she bit her lip with a sharp inhale, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck again. She pulled him in close, letting out small, gasping breaths as he rocked up and into her, before she moved her hands to his hair instead, gripping on tightly as she rode him towards climax. He could feel the heat building inside him, the pressure mounting in his gut until it was too much to bear, and he buried his face in her shoulder, overwhelming his senses with the smell of lilac and gooseberries.

He was part of her now, an integral part, too close to ever be separated again; swallowed up by the warmth of her body, the scent of her perfume, the knowledge that life would be meaningless without her. He could hear the headboard slamming the wall as he fucked her, causing her to give a long, loud moan, and he gritted his teeth as he thrust again, waiting for the right moment to finally come.

"Now," Yennefer cried, her fingers tensing into claws as she pulled him in, greedily. "Now, Geralt… don't make me wait… I can't wait any longer…!"

Geralt grunted, driving deep inside her, swallowing hard as he tried his best to resist, but he found he could not hold back any longer, and he gave a visceral shudder as he felt himself finally release. He let out a short, choked shout into her shoulder, his body wracking with pleasure as the tension melted into ecstasy, feeling as the warmth coursed through him at last, moving between their bodies like a single entity. Yennefer gasped as she felt him come, giving a soft whimper as she savoured his warmth inside her, squirming eagerly under him as he thrust a last few times, slowly, basking in the afterglow. He could feel the last throes of aftershock coursing through him, sending jolts of ecstasy down every inch, and he kissed Yennefer's neck again, breathlessly, before finding his lips steered gently back to her mouth.

"At least no one can say we didn't make the effort," Yennefer told him, smiling as she kissed him, tenderly.

Geralt gave a weak chuckle as he kissed her back. "Not for lack of trying," he agreed. "Wouldn't mind trying again."

Yennefer chuckled, pulling him in close to kiss him again, running her fingers through his sweaty hair, before she finally let go of him again, lying back against her pillows with a contented sigh and staring up at him, adoringly. Geralt grinned, leaning down to kiss her nose, causing her to wrinkle it with a titter of surprise, before he settled down beside her on the bed, so close his nose nearly touched her cheek on the pillow. He hummed quietly, reaching across to take a lock of dark hair from beside her on the pillow, bringing it to his nose for a wistful whiff, before starting to trail it across her face like a paintbrush.

Yennefer laughed, turning away sharply as he tickled her, before waving him away with a playful hand. "Stop it!" she scolded, smiling, and Geralt grinned, doing as he was told. Leaning in again, he kissed her shoulder instead, trailing soft kisses across her collar-bone and neck, and Yennefer sighed, leaning back against the pillows again, running her fingers absentmindedly through his hair as she stared at the ceiling, seeming lost in thought.

"I've given it some consideration," Yennefer suddenly said, her pensive tone taking him by surprise, causing him to look up again. "Taking into account everything you've told me… about your mysterious letter implicating someone from Ban Ard, using research from Rissberg." She paused, her expression faltering a bit, as if not sure this was the right thing to tell him, before she finally took another deep breath, turning her eyes to meet her husband's curious ones. "I don't think someone opening a few gates or… summoning monsters through, if even possible… is what led to the current weakening of the fabric," she told him, frankly. "Ciri has opened gates before – even portals through time and space – and it's never weakened it to such an extent. It's not so fragile, even now, that the opening of one gate should do such damage—especially if not done recently—and as you've found no proof that the vampiric gate was opened within the last several months… I'd likely wager that it wasn't."

She fell silent again, staring down at him, as if expecting some reaction, some objection from her husband, but he only stared back at her intently, saying nothing, waiting for her to continue. "I'd estimate the opening of the vampiric gate would've been at least a year ago, considering the journal you found," she went on after a moment, sounding grave. "Back before Ban Ard had to thoroughly sanitize its public image, for fear of retribution from Radovid and his witch-hunters. But the current weakening of the fabric didn't start until several months ago, around the same time—"

"O'Dimm showed up," Geralt finished.

Yennefer hesitated, her expression drawing, reaching up to brush a lock of hair from his face. "The weakening of the fabric has allowed the potential for more interplanar interference," she added, her voice solemn. "But I don't think it was caused by it. Which means, if my thought is correct… then we've been approaching this situation all wrong."

Geralt made a face, apprehensive. "If messing with the gates didn't cause the weakening, then something else did," he reasoned. "What's got that kind of power?"

"Gaunter O'Dimm, I would suspect," Yennefer answered, gravely. "From everything you've told me."

Geralt hummed, thinning his lips. "Can't think of a reason he'd want to," he admitted, shaking his head. "Guess making the Continent more dangerous means more desperate people. More contracts. Doesn't seem right, though."

"Does it not?" Yennefer asked, curling up closer beside him, nestling her head under his chin. "Is he really so complex that you wouldn't consider that a believable motivation?"

Geralt grunted, pulling her in tighter, pressing a lingering kiss to her head. "Guess not," he admitted, hesitant to acknowledge it. "Just… seems out of character for him. Seems… off."

"How so?" Yennefer asked.

Geralt paused again, thinking it over for a moment, before he finally shrugged. "O'Dimm isn't self-motivated," he answered, deciding that was the simplest way to put it. "Never does anything without prompting. That's his whole thing. Takes what someone asks for, and twists it. Not in a contract, shouldn't even be here."

"But he is in a contract," Yennefer pointed out, pressing a gentle hand to his scarred chest. "With you. A strange contract, with shifting parameters, unlike any I've ever heard of before… but a contract, nonetheless."

Geralt grunted, looking down at her again. "Maybe," he said. "But, didn't ask for anything. Nothing he can twist."

Yennefer faltered, looking concerned. "So, are you saying someone else asked for this?" she returned, troubled.

Geralt frowned, before shaking his head again. "Not sure," he admitted. "Not sure it's what they asked for, either. Probably isn't. Probably O'Dimm's own sadistic interpretation."

"But that means, if you don't complete your tasks and stop him…" Yennefer began.

"Could keep going until the fabric rips entirely," Geralt concluded. "Causes another Conjunction, like Triss said. Could mean the end of days. No way to know for sure." He paused, feeling an uncomfortable, heavy silence fall between them at the thought, before he finally took another deep breath, not wanting to let that be the end of their conversation. "Listen," he said. "That… girl, came to see me again. I was… a real ass to her. Said some nasty things. Chased her off. But before she left, she made a point about… demons having to be summoned. Didn't think anything of it at the time, but… if you're right…"

"Then there's someone besides you behind O'Dimm's appearance," Yennefer concluded, her expression grave. "He was already on this plane when Ciri asked you to investigate, which means someone summoned him before you ever got there." She paused, staring at the wall for a while, her countenance darkening in concern as she thought about it, before she finally shifted again, resting her elbow across his chest as her dark hair fell in curtains around her face. "Someone out there saw fit to summon O'Dimm to ask for something," she determined, her brow furrowing at the thought. "Something which O'Dimm then twisted in its intent, and is now taking to apocalyptic extremes."

"Could be the same person who was opening gates before," Geralt considered, frowning at the implication. "Our friend from Ban Ard. Could be he opened one door too many. Let through something he didn't intend."

"But…" Yennefer sucked her lip, her expression growing solemn. "But… what could someone possibly ask for that could be twisted in such a way? And—how would some child know about it, regardless? Who is this little girl, Geralt?"

Geralt thought for a moment, before finally shrugging. "Dunno," he admitted. "Tried to confront her, ask her, but she opened a portal and disappeared. Never seen a kid do that."

Yennefer faltered, before her pristine brow furrowed, looking as if she could not believe what he was telling her. "A child shouldn't be able to do something like that," she determined, sounding almost affronted by the thought. "Let alone a child who—how old did you say she was?"

"Six," Geralt answered.

Yennefer scoffed.

"Six years old is much too young to learn that advanced of magic," she informed him, matter-of-factly. "Let alone be able to perform it successfully, unaided. Where did she portal to, this… six-year-old girl?"

Geralt shrugged again, unfazed by her doubt. "No idea," he answered. "Didn't see inside the portal. Didn't look like one of yours, though. Something different about it." He paused, making a face, trying to think back to his last conversation with Rosie, before he finally let out another breath, tucking a lock of hair behind Yennefer's ear. "Had to compare… looked a little like Ciri's, I guess," he admitted. "Didn't think about it at the time."

Yennefer frowned, seeming a bit more troubled by the comparison. "Like Ciri's?" she asked, her tone tentative. "That's—not a light assessment, Geralt. When did you say this girl first started showing up?"

Geralt hummed, picking up her arm to kiss her slender wrist, starting to move steadily down. "Couple weeks after Shani arrived," he answered, much less interested in the conversation than in his wife. "Said she needed to find a witcher for a contract. Said I was the only witcher around."

"Yes… a contract," Yennefer agreed, staring distractedly down at him as he continued kissing her. "A contract for a hybrid beast you might never have known about, had she not drawn your attention to it." She paused, considering for a moment, before she slowly sat up in bed beside him, resting a thoughtful hand on his chest as she stared down at the covers, seeming lost in thought. "I… have to check on something," she finally said, her voice distant, making him hesitate at her tone; he had not said anything he considered to be too strange, but something in what he said had clearly struck her differently. He had seen that look from her before – her expression drawn, eyes unfocused, too fixated on her thoughts to pretend otherwise, and he watched as she took a deep breath, finally lifting her head to look over at him again.

"I need to make one stop before we head to Rissberg," she said, her voice much firmer than before.

Geralt hesitated. "'We?'" he finally asked, lifting her hand from his chest to kiss it.

Yennefer nodded, seeming not to notice his affection. "Yes," she determined, giving him no room to argue. "I'll be coming with you. It's too dangerous for you to go alone. I'll not risk losing you again, not when I can help it." She paused, watching for a moment as Geralt pressed her fingers gently to his lips, her gaze still only half attentive, too focused on her own thoughts to fully register what he was doing. "As for my own detour," she added, still sounding matter-of-fact, oblivious to his romantic efforts. "It's nothing to be concerned about. Only… something I need to see to before we go any further."

"Hm," Geralt answered, kissing down her fingers. "Want me to come with you on this… detour?"

Yennefer shook her head. "No," she answered, firmly. "I think it would be best if I were to go alone. It shouldn't take more than a day or two, and after that, we can continue on to Rissberg, better informed." She paused again, taking a moment to consider, watching as he moved his lips gently down her palm, before her expression finally began to soften, and she let out a light sigh, seeming hesitant to leave him. "I have to find something out before we go," she said, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself as much as him. "If it ends up being what I think, I'll inform you as soon as I return."

Geralt nodded, turning her hand to kiss the back, making her wrinkle her nose at the prickliness of his beard. "Trust your judgement," he told her. "Little downtime couldn't hurt. Maybe give me a chance to visit Shani."

At this, Yennefer faltered, seeming struck by the brilliance of his suggestion, before she turned to look down at him again, her expression clearing. "Yes!" she agreed. "That's a wonderful idea, Geralt. I'll open a portal for you to go and visit Shani. Then, after three days have passed, you can have Triss open a portal to send you back. I'll certainly be finished by then."

Geralt hummed, kissing her wrist, before he reached across her waist, pulling her back to the bed again. "That's fine," he said, kissing her forehead and nestling his chin on top of her head, breathing in her scent. "Don't wanna go just yet, though. Thought maybe we could stay here a little longer. Just like this."

Yennefer smiled, taking in a soft breath, reaching up to cup her husband's face adoringly in her palm. "I think we can manage that," she agreed, kissing his cheek. "I doubt a few more hours will make any difference."

A few more hours passed too quickly for Geralt, though it did afford a few more hours of lovemaking, and he smiled as he pulled on his gloves, watching Yennefer dressing across the room from him. She always looked so refined, no matter what she was doing – whether she was taking her clothes off, or putting them on – and as she bent down to pull on her long boots, he sucked in a breath, feeling a stir from beneath his lacings. Yennefer gave a soft huff from across the room, not even bothering to look up at him at the sound, letting her dark hair fall in coiffed curls over her face as her delicate fingers worked her bootstrings.

"Again?" she teased, incredulous. "We've been going for hours. Are you still not satisfied?" Standing from her boots, she turned to look at him, resting her hands on her hips as she paused to read. "I admit, your creativity never ceases to amaze me," she confessed after a moment, a small smirk curling her lips. "If you'd only thought to suggest that sooner, I might've been game to try. Alas, the moment's passed."

"I'll keep it in mind for later," Geralt agreed, giving a wide, wolfish grin at her good humour.

Yennefer chuckled, picking up her second boot and sitting on the bed to slip it on, before she suddenly turned to look back at him again. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "That's filthy. And incredibly specific. Did you mean for me to see that?"

"Got nothing to hide from you," Geralt answered, shrugging. "That mean you're not willing to try?"

Yennefer paused, thinking a moment, pulling her laces taut and tying them off with a bow. "I never said that," she finally returned, getting up from the bed and smoothing her jacket. "I only said it was incredibly specific. If you've the means to make it happen, I can't say I wouldn't be willing to try." She smirked, closing the short space between them to place an adoring hand on his face, before she grabbed him by the front of his cuirass, pulling him down to her level for a tender kiss. Geralt grunted in surprise, more than happy to accommodate, savouring the softness of her lips, the sweet taste of her tongue, and he pulled her in closer by her slender waist, causing her to give a soft gasp as he kissed her back, just as deeply.

Yennefer gave a soft chuckle as they kissed, taking his face in her hands, never wanting to let them part, until she finally turned her face away, pressing a gloved hand to his lips to stop him. "If we keep going like this, we'll end up right back where we started," she said, trying to sound convincingly opposed to the idea.

Geralt chuckled, moving her hand to kiss her forehead. "Wouldn't mind that," he admitted. "Got nowhere else to be."

"Except that we do," Yennefer answered, taking a step back to avoid further temptation. "Or have you forgotten you've a task to complete, and only seven more weeks in which to complete it?" She paused, tilting her head, offering him a sad, sympathetic smile at the reminder, but he found he could not return it, as the mention of his task had all but spoiled the moment. Yennefer sighed, realizing the same, before she moved forward again, shifting onto her toes to kiss his cheek. "We mustn't let the things we can't control discourage us," she told him, resting a hand over his Wolf medallion. "We must simply learn to be stronger because of them. There's no sense in letting what we can't change, change us."

Geralt hummed, taking her hand from his chest, moving it to his lips to give her fingertips a soft kiss. "Sounds like something Vesemir would say," he answered, offering a faint, hopeful tilt of his lips.

Yennefer smiled, loath to let the moment end, before she finally slid her tiny hand from his, returning it to her side. "Be sure to tell Shani I've been worrying about her, and that I hope she and the baby are doing well," she told him, turning for the bedroom door and indicating for him to follow. "And tell Eskel I wish he'd make a move. A woman can't be expected to wait around forever, particularly a woman like Shani."

Geralt grunted, following her through the door. "Sure you're reading the situation right?" he asked. "Could just be being friendly."

Yennefer sighed, pulling his swords from the rack by the front door and handing them over to him. "Take these," she told him. "I highly doubt you'll meet with any monsters out there, but with you, I can never be certain." She paused, watching as he donned his swords, waiting for him to fasten the buckle securely across his chest, before she reached out to straighten his Wolf medallion, giving him a last glance over to ensure he was fully equipped.

"I expect to see you back in three days," she told him, moving a lock of hair distractedly from his shoulder. "If you haven't returned in that time, I'll be forced to assume the worst, and I'll come to collect you, myself. I assume you've thought to bring the xenovox?" She paused, waiting to see as he pulled it from his hip-pouch to show her. "Good," she agreed. "We'll use it to keep in touch while you're there, but you should leave it with Triss when you go. We'll be travelling together to Rissberg on your return, so you and I will no longer need it to communicate."

Geralt nodded, tucking the xenovox back in his hip-pouch, feeling a strange sense of impending dread; he had known for a while now that his path would inevitably lead to Rissberg, yet somehow, it felt so much closer now, so much realer. There was no more clue-finding, no speculation, no more skirting around the solution, hoping for a different outcome – there was only the road ahead, and the wicked Castle that lay at the end of it. He was pulled from his downward spiral of thoughts as he looked down again, watching Yennefer check his satchel-belt, unable to help a small smile as he watched her fret over him, making a last few adjustments to his attire. He could tell she was trying to delay their goodbye, the same way she had when she had left him to fight the last Crone, and he let out a soft, fond chuckle as she checked his sleeves next, tugging his gloves to make sure they were secure.

"Everything seems acceptable," she finally determined, stepping back with a contented huff. "You never know what threats you might encounter. It's important to ensure everything is where it should be."

"Couldn't hurt to check again," Geralt answered, grinning fondly down at her as she looked up, sharply.

Yennefer scoffed, folding her arms at his teasing. "You may not find our current schedule pressing, Geralt, but I certainly do," she told him, shortly. "I've determined your armour to be suitable for your journey. Any more than that is beyond my capabilities, I'm afraid." She paused, thinking about it for a moment, before she finally turned for the door to take them outside, leading Geralt off the sunny porch to walk a few paces down the cobbled path towards the gardens. It was a nice day out, Geralt thought as he followed her, with a soft breath of birdsong floating in on the summer breeze, a day so peaceful it was hard to imagine the world of ash and darkness Ida had spoken about in her premonitions.

Whatever O'Dimm was doing to the fabric of reality, it had clearly not reached Toussaint yet, he thought – or if it had, it was impossible to tell, and he made a face at the thought that, without the Lodge's warning, he might never have known anything was amiss until it was too late. He did not have long to admire his surroundings, however, before he felt his medallion give a buzz against his chest, and a moment later, the sound of a portal opening ripped through the clement atmosphere, darkening his view of the garden. Geralt looked up as the glowing spiral whipped his hair, the warm winds pulling the plants around them towards the vortex, before he looked over to Yennefer next, concentrating hard on the rift she had created.

"Where's this thing gonna take me?" Geralt asked, trying to gather his nerves enough to step through the portal.

Yennefer steeled her lips, adjusting her stance. "It will take you to Shani," she told him, shortly. "I can't keep holding it open like this, Geralt. You must go through."

Geralt frowned, turning his gaze back to the portal, before he took a deep breath, preparing to go in. "Guess I'll figure it out when I get there," he said, quietly, before closing his eyes and stepping in.