So I'm just going to post this a few hours early because I started classes this week and my schedule is fucked right now, but: I know this is pretty out there. There aren't a lot of modern AUs around (that I've seen, at least) and I'm taking several liberties with canon. That being said, if you're actually reading this I can't thank you enough, because I'm really excited to finally be sharing it with people. Hope you enjoy! –Bel
A Wolf Among Lilacs
Part One: Longing/Regret
Chapter One: A Humming in the Restless Summer Air
When all was said and done, the Academy gave him a far better deal than he'd been expecting to get. They offered him a substantial salary, freedom with his lesson plans and plenty of time to attend other lectures at his leisure. They'd also recommended housing in an apartment complex right outside the gates that was generally occupied by faculty, and it had been easy for him to secure a spot there. They lumped him in under the Department of Medicine and Herbology, by the convoluted logic that what he was teaching was exercise, which was related to health and therefore medicine. He didn't complain—there was nothing for him to feasibly complain about, besides the loss of neutrality. At the very least, he was being paid and housed, he wouldn't have to worry about where they would fund the upkeep of Kaer Morhen, and he wouldn't be completely alone.
As he was wont to do, Dandelion found out all the details of Geralt's contract without ever speaking to him about it. He finally called a few days before Geralt was due to pack up and move, and offered the news that he'd be lecturing as well, with the Department of Trouvreship and Poetry. (It was somewhat fitting, he thought; the name was just as ostentatious as the man himself.) They weren't living together—Geralt had a one-bedroom apartment, for which he was eternally grateful, although now that he knew Ciri would be in Oxenfurt (though he still wasn't exactly clear as to why), he wouldn't have minded living with her; it wasn't like they hadn't done it before, though Kaer Morhen was considerably larger than any apartment they'd be able to find in the city. But she's already made plans to move in with Triss, who was doing her apprenticeship in the Alchemy department, and under someone incredibly renowned, by the way she talked about it, though she'd only done so vaguely. Whenever he tried to ask further she shied away, saying he'd find out eventually. He wasn't sure why she was being so cagey.
"It's a bit nepotistic if you ask me," Ciri had said on the phone when he finally managed to get ahold of her, nearly a week after he received the letter. "That's why she's not telling anyone the specifics of the thing. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm excited for her, but just humor me for a minute—"
"I've been humoring you nearly your whole life."
"Very funny. Just listen. They've known each other for over a decade. They lived together at Aretuza. And when Triss graduated and joined the Brotherhood, it's no secret who sponsored her. There's going to be backlash when this comes out—"
"Ciri," he'd interrupted, the phone pulled slightly away from his ear. His sensitive hearing made him painfully aware of every change in volume, and the murmuring in the background was distracting. The fact that she'd managed to catch him in the middle of a night of drinking with Eskel and Lambert didn't exactly help things. "Slow down. I don't even know what you're talking about."
"You don't? What am I saying, of course you don't. Do you even know how hard it is to get the same information out to both of you? I can never talk to you at the same time. It's like having divorced parents but it's worse, because you've never met."
Things clicked in his head. His most questionable decision as Ciri's guardian. It had turned out well enough, but he tried not to think about it too often. "Right. You're talking about—" His mind was clouded, he'd drank far too much vodka, and he'd had about enough of whatever Lambert was yelling next door. "Shit. This is going to sound terrible, but I can't remember her name."
"You can't—Geralt, are you drunk?" Ciri made a choked sound that he hoped was a laugh. He heard her cover the receiver with her hand and shout "Hey! He just told me he doesn't remember your name!" A cacophony of voices followed, closer than he thought; he wasn't aware they'd been in the same room. One, a bit farther than the others, went "Who did?" while a second he recognized as Triss yelled "That's Geralt, isn't it? Hi, Geralt!" and a third that sounded disturbingly like Philippa Eilhart said "I don't remember her name either—in fact, I've never seen that woman before in my life." They all started to talk over each other, though he couldn't make out what they were saying anymore. Ciri must have moved.
"Sorry about that." He could still hear them in the background; he wondered if she realized how irritating it was. "I probably should have gone somewhere else in the first place. But the contract—you're going to take it, right? I haven't seen you in years."
It was a poor excuse to take any job—both of them knew that. But he never could say no to her. "It looks like I am."
He thought he heard her jumping a bit in excitement, gentle thudding on a carpeted floor. He couldn't blame her; the only good thing about this offer was that if she was staying in Oxenfurt, they could see each other at last, and frequently at that. Sadly, the catching up would have to wait—Lambert had been trying to get his attention for the past five minutes—so they reluctantly said their goodbyes and went to hang up.
"Geralt, wait!" he heard her yell as his finger hovered over the end call button. Much to Lambert's annoyance, he pressed the phone back to his ear. "I almost forgot," she said breathlessly. "When you get up there you can't call me Ciri, all right? Call me Falka. It's a long story; I'll explain it later."
He frowned in confusion, and was about to ask what she meant when another flurry of yelling erupted in the background and she hung up with another rushed goodbye. He supposed this was what he got for not keeping up with her better, but even with all the recent technology at his disposal, being out on the Path tended to cut him off from anyone besides other witchers—and Dandelion, who frequently accompanied him for up to months at a time, even though he always complained constantly. "It's good song material," he said every time Geralt asked, and judging by the sales of his newest album—which Geralt still refused to listen to—he was right.
When he asked Dandelion about what Ciri had said as they met up in Oxenfurt, outside the apartment complex where they were both staying, he looked incredibly offended. "You mean you hadn't been paying attention this whole time? Do you even know what your daughter's been doing for the past few years?"
He raised his hands defensively, pausing in the middle of removing his bags from the bed of his truck. "Look. She's an adult now. I can't exactly stop her from doing anything, and I don't need every detail of her life. We keep in touch as often as we can, and I trust her. As long as she's happy, that's good enough for me."
Dandelion remained strangely quiet as Geralt carried the last of the bags into the tiny one-bedroom apartment. He didn't exactly have a lot thanks to constant travelling, so it had only taken a couple trips and he could get the unpacking done quickly, maybe even in less than an hour. The place had come furnished as well, which was another bonus. He was glad to not have asked anyone else for help.
"Did you know she's got tattoos now?" Dandelion blurted out, as if this was incredibly important information he just couldn't keep to himself. "At least three, last time I heard."
"She has—Dandelion, why are you telling me this? You know she can do what she wants, right?"
"Just thought you might want to know." He had that look on his face, the one that meant he was planning something. Geralt hated that look. It always precluded bad things, like the time Dandelion tried to throw him a surprise party and had ended up in the hospital because Geralt had punched him reflexively and broken his nose. Geralt also hated surprises. And parties. "You should check and see if she's here yet."
"….okay." He shut the door and locked it behind them, slipping the key into his pocket. "Not until I've gotten my parking sticker, though. Rather not get a ticket the first day here." Dandelion looked annoyed, but followed him to the front office nonetheless. As he neared the small building, he thought he could hear arguing coming from inside. One of the voices sounded oddly familiar.
"I don't understand what's taking so long," it complained as Geralt pulled the door open. Through the glass, he'd caught a glimpse of a head of straw-colored hair that he knew all too well. "She's already filled out all the paperwork. She's moving in her furniture right now. Yet I've been here twenty minutes and you can't even scan my drivers' license."
"Ma'am, I can't help that the copier's broken—"
"Perhaps you should've thought of that before you put it in there." She turned when she heard them sitting down in the uncomfortable plastic chairs behind her and her eyes widened. "Geralt," she crooned, tilting her head so her hair caught the light flatteringly. He couldn't help but notice the seductive tone that had crept into her voice, the way she angled herself to show off the cut of her dress to its best advantage. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Keira Metz." He hoped he sounded amused instead of mildly annoyed, which was what he actually was. He didn't hate her by any means, but their previous encounters weren't exactly something he remembered fondly. "Wouldn't have ever pegged you as a teacher."
"Neither would I." She grimaced. In all reality, Keira was the last person he would've thought would teach in any capacity. She didn't have the most generous or caring personality, and she was one of the least responsible people he'd ever met, second only to Dandelion. "But I'm only to teach one section, and they've agreed to fund all my research while I'm here. As well as any…expeditions I might go on to collect that research."
Of course they had. Geralt got the impression that she made most decisions based solely on her personal gain. "It's as good a reason as any," Dandelion interjected, probably to stop Geralt from saying something that might offend her. "What brings you here, though?" He motioned to the office, to the frazzled man behind the counter, who was desperately trying to fix the copier while throwing terrified glances at the back of Keira's head. "Last I heard, you already lived here. No need for new paperwork."
Leave it to Dandelion to know everything about everyone. He spent, in Geralt's opinion, more time on social media than any one person should. "I was," Keira replied with a long-suffering sigh. "But I've got a roommate now, which means a new apartment and significantly higher rent."
To say Geralt was surprised would be an understatement. "How in the world did someone convince you to share an apartment with them?" It was no secret that Keira liked her space (except when it came to him, it seemed), and it was hard to picture her even living in an apartment, let alone sharing it with someone else. That research must have been important.
"A ridiculous amount of money. Not to mention she's paying for everything else." This time he barely stopped himself from commenting. She laughed a little. It sounded bitter. "It's the only way I could be convinced, all things considered. I'd assumed we were done being roommates about thirteen years ago, but she showed up unannounced and made me an offer I couldn't refuse."
He must have looked confused, because she sighed again and explained. "We used to live together at Aretuza. They paired us her first full year. I assume they thought we'd get along, but nothing could be further from the truth. I can't stand her. We're nothing alike."
Dandelion laughed heartily. "Ah, so that's who you're talking about. Rest assured, Keira, you're more alike than you want to admit. Well, at any rate, this makes things interesting for you, Geralt." He elbowed him in the ribs, and not gently, either. Geralt was beginning to think broken-nosed Dandelion was a large improvement over this mysterious version.
Keira's lips turned up in a smirk as she ran her fingers over the ankh on her necklace, tracing its outline absentmindedly. "Right. I forgot about that. That daughter of hers—I guess that daughter of yours as well. Does that mean you'll come visit me?" The door opened with a chime behind him, but he didn't break eye contact. "I'm more fun than she is, anyway."
"Debatable." He looked over to where Triss had walked in, holding the door open behind her as if waiting for someone to catch up. She didn't exactly look thrilled to see Keira, and the feeling was clearly mutual. When she caught sight of Geralt, though, she smiled and her face turned a very interesting shade of red.
"Or outright untrue." The expression on Dandelion's face when Philippa Eilhart followed Triss in would have made him laugh if he wasn't just as confused, though considerably less angry. True, she had as good a reason to be in Oxenfurt as any (he knew the Redainan Secret Service was headquartered above the Dean's office, which he suspected he shouldn't know), but what she was doing in the lobby of an apartment complex reserved mostly for professors was beyond him. She took the seat next to him, drinking iced coffee out of a plastic cup and smelling strongly of cinnamon and muskroot. Without looking away from Keira, she set a black duffel bag on the floor at her feet.
Visibly uncomfortable, Keira turned around and glared daggers at the man behind the counter as she spoke "Lovely. If I'd have known all three of you would be here, I wouldn't have taken that deal."
"Yes, you would've." Philippa sounded incredibly bored. Geralt saw her glance at her phone—waiting for a call? "Your self-interest truly knows no bounds."
"Right, and you're a shining example of a bleeding heart." The copier finally stuttered to life and began printing something. Keira relaxed visibly, probably relieved that she'd soon have an excuse to leave. "You kept being her sponsor even after—"
"Keira." Triss's voice was like broken glass. Geralt had seen her get angry before, usually at Lambert, but he'd never heard her sound like that. "She's not even here. You don't need to bring her into this like that."
"The only reason she's not here is because her paperwork scanned just fine. But suit yourself." She turned her back to them and bent over the counter, scrawling her signature several times with an exaggerated flourish. Triss and Philippa exchanged a loaded glance as she dropped the pen and shoved her phone and keys back into her purse. "Let me know if you're not busy tonight, Geralt," she said over her shoulder as she pushed past Triss, her intentions unmistakable.
The two waited until she was a fair distance away before they started laughing. "Is it bad," Philippa said between long sips of coffee, "that I'm actually looking forward to this?"
"Absolutely." Geralt had nearly forgotten Dandelion was there. Normally he would be far more interested in the meaning of those words, but it seemed distaste for Philippa outweighed his love of gossip. "But a better question might be what are you doing here?"
Her phone chimed as she rolled her eyes, and she didn't look up when she answered. "I work here. In the Department of Most Contemporary History." The sarcasm was evident, but it had clearly been lost on his friend.
"More like the Department of Comparative Spying and Applied Sabotage," Dandelion muttered under his breath. Geralt stood and went to the counter, intent on getting his parking permit as he'd originally been doing. He hadn't wanted to get in the middle of an argument. The man seemed very relieved that Geralt wasn't also yelling at him.
"That's hilarious, really. Did you spend all morning thinking of that one?"
Geralt sidled over to where Triss was still standing by the door. "You seen Ciri yet?" he whispered, remembering her cryptic comment about not using her real name.
Triss nodded. "She got here before I did. She's back at our place now, unpacking the rest of her stuff. I'm supposed to send you there the second I see you." She gestured towards the front desk, frowning. "I've still got some paperwork to finish up, though. If you guys want to go up without me, that's fine."
Dandelion was shaking his head vigorously before she'd even finished the sentence. "I wish I could, but I've got some unpacking to do myself. Besides, I'll be seeing you all later." It was a flimsy excuse to not be around Philippa, and he clearly knew it. If she noticed (and he had no doubt she did) she didn't say anything. Dandelion aimed a very intense stare in Geralt's direction as he left. The look clearly indicated he wanted to speak, but he'd ignore it as long as he could. Seeing Ciri mattered more right then.
Philippa slung the bag back over her shoulder as she stood and left, and Geralt followed reluctantly. If she'd come here with Triss, she knew where she was going and he didn't, considering he'd gotten here less than an hour ago. This whole thing felt like a mistake, still; none of them had ever done something like this before. Hell, he hadn't even had a hand in the education of any witchers-in-training except for Ciri. How had he let them talk him into this?
"You're brooding so loudly it's giving me a headache." When he looked over, her dark eyes stared back sharply. Right. Triss usually had the decency to not go digging around in his mind. Most other sorceresses weren't so polite.
"Maybe if you didn't read everyone's minds, that wouldn't be a problem." Her lips twitched. It almost looked as if she were going to smile, but she simply responded with "touché" and kept walking. Ciri and Triss had rented a two-bedroom on the upper level, number twenty-five, and for a moment he thought she was going to go in as he followed her up the stairs, the air getting more and more humid as they ascended. But when they reached the top she shoulder open the door of twenty-seven across the landing.
"Any particular reason I'm the one carrying all your things when you could easily make someone else do it?" she yelled to someone inside as she vanished from his line of sight.
"Because I'm busy, Philippa." The voice that responded sounded oddly familiar—the other person that had been in the room when he called Ciri. She sounded notably calmer than the last time he had spoken to her, though that had been years ago.
"That doesn't mean you couldn't have shoved it on someone else. Or portaled them in. Would've been a lot quicker."
"And waste all my energy? I'd rather not."
His curiosity was piqued enough that he was considering following her in, but then a voice that was all too familiar to him yelled "Geralt!" and when he turned around suddenly Ciri was hugging him.
She was so tall, he thought as they pulled away to size each other up. Even in her flat sneakers he had only a few inches on her. The t-shirt and shorts she was wearing showed she hadn't been slacking on her training; her arms and legs were just as lean as they had been during her days at Kaer Morhen, though he had no idea what she'd actually been doing. She kept her ashen hair pulled behind her head, minus a few strands that her fallen out, and her shocking green eyes were rimmed in black liner.
There was a long angry scar dominating the left side of her face.
His brow furrowed as he touched her cheek gently, inches away from the line. She stepped back, refusing to make direct eye contact with him. "It's not pretty, I know. But you're probably more concerned with how I got it." She laughed. He could hear it in how nervous she was. "It's a long story, but I'll tell you soon, I promise. Maybe over some food? I haven't eaten all day."
She looked so hopeful that he didn't have the heart to refuse her, even though there was a faculty dinner he was technically supposed to be attending. After all, they hadn't seen each other since she was thirteen. "Of course. But…you should've told me." He knew how isolated he could get form the rest of the world, especially when he spent months at a time on the Path, but if something of this magnitude had happened, he would've expected to at least get a phone call.
"I know. I'm sorry." She glance up at him, expression downcast. "I just…didn't want you to worry about it. You were out, and I didn't want to be in the back of your mind when you were off killing monsters. Besides, at this point it looks a lot worse than it is, or was." They paused for a minute. He could hear it coming a mile away, but he didn't interrupt. "And I can take care of myself."
There it was. "Never said you couldn't," he shot back, raising an eyebrow. "Though I'm starting to question the company you keep."
"You mean Philippa?" This time the laugh was just a laugh, and he smile too, glad to see her happy. "She's not so bad once you get to know her. The talons retract a little. I think I'm one of the few people who've seen her act like a normal human being. I'm honored to be in such esteemed company. Besides, she's not nearly half as bad as most of my friends."
"You realize that only proves my point."
She waved off his halfhearted protest as she turned to walk into her apartment. He followed her and settled on the threadbare couch in the living room as she sat on the floor among several half-empty boxes. The silence returned, and it stretched on comfortably. It reminded him of the years she'd spent at Kaer Morhen, of nights by the fireplace where she'd sit at his feet and read while he cleaned his weapons. He wondered if he would ever get to feel that peacefulness again.
"Hey, Geralt?" He looked over from where he'd been letting his gaze wander the apartment. She had a wistful smile on her face that likely mimicked the one on his own. Before he could respond, she said, in a slightly choked-up voice, "I missed you."
He felt oddly emotional too. With Ciri here, he felt more at home in a strange place than he ever had before. He smiled again as she moved to sit on the couch next to him. "I missed you too."
So it's only briefly mentioned here, but I was thinking of making a tumblr post explaining the sponsoring system – it's not exactly difficult, but I feel like it would be a little too long for a note, if only because I'm so wordy. If anyone would like to see it elsewhere, please let me know! Thanks for reading!
