A/N: Thank you for your reviews and likes so far. I know having something episodically can be frustrating but your patience is appreciated. I want to stay ahead of you all so I can offer you regular updates. I value all your thoughts and opinions, and to those I have already got thanks again. Your questions will be answered hopefully, but in the mean time I hope you enjoy as always and continue to let me know what you think. :)

Chapter 8

Lambert awoke the next day with a dreadfully sore back. He had slept awkwardly all night, but had been unwilling to change his position due to the half demon, half annoying girl that had been sat watching him sleep. For a brief blissful moment, he forgot why he had gone to bed so abruptly, then the memory of what he had said came crashing back. Why had he admitted that he'd been afraid for her safety? That he had thought she had been the one screaming. Urgh, you're fucking idiot Lambert, he thought, pulling the blanket over his head to block out the dawn's light. Capture a half demon and start getting sappy, spouting nonsense to her. She's your goddamn prisoner jackass.

'Morning.' A cheery voice suddenly piped up from behind him. The witcher groaned and tried to will himself back to sleep. Unfortunately, he had already fulfilled his limited need to rest and they needed to get back on the road. Their detour to Ursten had already put unnecessary time on a journey governed by its lack of time. The pass to Kaer Morhen would be closing in a few weeks and he wanted to be there well before that. Trekking alone through that mountain range in a blizzard was one thing. With an extra body it was no joke. Reluctantly he pulled back his blanket and sat up. Raising his arms and listening to the loud popping of his joints as he stretched his stiff muscles.

'You didn't sleep very well.' The thorn in his side spoke again. 'You were muttering and shifting around a lot.' Lambert turned to face the girl still sat cross legged where he had left her last night. The fire was burning healthily, meaning she had continued to feed it whilst he was sleeping. He may have been uncomfortable but at least he hadn't been cold.

She watched him with those intense blue eyes of her, her mouth turned up slightly at the corners in the beginnings of a smile. 'Maybe I would have slept better if a crazy demon wasn't staring at me.'

Her brow wrinkled in that now familiar expression of puzzlement. 'I wasn't staring at you all night. You're just right in my field of vision.'

Lambert rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 'You don't eat, you don't sleep, you don't die. You sure you're not a really stubborn ghost?' He was surprised to hear her chuckle lightly at his sarcasm, it was carefree and full of humour. The sound was jarring.

'Maybe this will help you.' She said, her voice still holding the remnants of her laughter. Peeking through his fingers, Lambert saw she was holding something out to him.

'Is that a…rabbit?'

'Yeah, I cooked it for you. I know it's not a normal breakfast…well, not in my world at least. But as I don't need to sleep I thought I'd at least do something useful.' The witcher stared in bemusement at the well-cooked joint of rabbit that the demon was offering him. It looked and smelt amazing, his stomach rumbled in response to it but he felt a tiny sliver of doubt enter his mind. Ellie saw his expression and gave a loud, theatrical sigh.

'I haven't poisoned it, and if you take it from me you're not going to enter into some dumb pact or deal or whatever it is you think demons do to people. Just take the damn rabbit Lambert.'

His eyes narrowed. 'That's exactly what a demon would say to make me take it.' Ellie's jovial mood vanished in an instant. With a huff she leant across and shoved the joint of meat into his hands, then sat back down, her arms folded across her chest.

'Honestly, I'm trying to be nice. Why'd you have to make it so hard?'

The witcher held the meal she had made him awkwardly, eyeing her suspiciously. His stomach let out another growl of protest, and he brought it towards his face to sniff at it experimentally. It smelt clean and his medallion wasn't responding to any hidden magic. Tentatively he took a bite, then before he could stop himself he was wolfing the rabbit down. Ellie smiled in smug satisfaction and began to busy herself by putting out the fire she had so diligently kept alight.

Finishing his unexpected breakfast, Lambert sat watching the strange girl bustling about the camp. After a moment of quiet contemplation Ellie paused and stared down at him, that wrinkle on her brow speaking louder than words. 'How did you get the rabbit?' He asked, getting up to help ready their departure.

'I caught it.' She said, slowly. Her confused expression deepening the crease between her eyebrows. Lambert found himself captivated by it.

'With no crossbow or traps?'

She lifted her wrists which were now free of the dimeritium shackles he'd put on her. 'Things are a lot easier now I can use my hands again.'

Lambert gave her an incredulous look as he placed his bedroll and saddlebags back on his horse. 'You chased down a rabbit and killed it with your bare hands whilst I was sleeping, so you could make me breakfast? You're a mad one blue eyes.'

Ellie shrugged, her expression unreadable. 'I wanted to say thanks. For coming to my rescue last night.' He froze and slowly turned from checking his saddle to regard her with a steely look. She responded with a broad grin and skipped over to pet his horse.

'I mean it Lambert. Thank you.' Silence fell between them. He regarded her as she gently stroked the muzzle of his horse, the animal nudging forward to get a better angle. It was the second time in the last ten minutes she had used his name, both times it had elicited a strange, tingling feeling across his skin.

'S'all right.' He said in a gruff voice. Clearing his throat, he finished up and took his mount by the reins and urged him to walk on.

'Not going to ride today?' Lambert looked sideways at the girl walking next to him, her expression perplexed. He shook his head.

'No, need to replenish some supplies. Easier to do that on foot.' The wrinkle was back, but she didn't press him further. Instead they lapsed into a tentative silence, the witcher finding he didn't feel that weird walking side by side with a demon through the woods. After a while he spotted the thing he was looking for. Kneeling down, Lambert carefully uprooted the spongy stems of puffball and put them in his ingredients pouch. He could feel the quizzical eyes of his companion on his back as he straightened up and continued on. A few more feet and he saw a large bush groaning with white myrtle flowers.

Ellie leant in as he plucked the dainty petals and gathered them in a torn piece of cotton. 'Errr, so what's this all about? Didn't take you for a collector.'

'Pfft, I'm not. I need these to make potions. And I need potions to hunt monsters. You see how the cycle works?'

'Potions huh.' She said, ignoring his sarcastic tone completely. Her fingers ran lightly over the flowers and she picked one of the petals, holding it up in front of her. 'So, can you do magic too?'

Lambert gave her an odd look, tucking his stash of white myrtle away. Then held out his hand and fired off a quick blast of Igni. She took a reflexive step back, her eyes widening. 'In a manner. Some would call this magic, but it's not really. Just some cheap imitation, perfect for mutants like us.' His mouth twisted into a sour grimace and he went back to scanning the flora for his next ingredient.

'Could I drink one of your potions?' Ellie asked, skipping back to his side and not even acknowledging his darkened mood. The witcher couldn't help but snort at her request, then a seed of doubt entered his mind and he stared down at her.

'I don't know. Our potions are deadly to anyone who isn't a witcher, but I'm not sure what the effects would be on a demon.'

'Half demon.' She corrected him.

'Hmmm.' Was his noncommittal answer. They walked on, quiet again. Lambert found the last thing he needed to restock his alchemy supplies, a good specimen of celandine, and he began leading them to the road once more.

'I wonder if those men have woken up yet.' Blue eyes mused.

'They'll probably wish they weren't awake with the injuries you gave them. Still not sure why you didn't kill them.' He responded, keeping his eyes forward although he was suddenly very aware of how close she was walking to him. Her arm almost brushing his.

'Would you have?'

He only thought for a beat before answering forcefully, 'Absolutely.'

'Hmmm.' She said in the same vague way he had earlier. Ordinarily he would have found her mocking irritating, but today he had to fight to hold his smirk back. 'Why didn't you once I'd finished knocking them out then? Would've been quite easy to accomplish…even for you.'

This time he did look at her with irritation evident in his expression, but the grin she had plastered on that round face of hers made it hard to remember why he was mad. 'Seemed like overkill.' He finally blustered, looking away again. Much safer.

'Yes, I guess it was. Don't think they'll be as enthusiastic in their hobby after a girl downed them with no trouble.'

'You didn't answer my question.' He said.

'Why didn't I kill them? Because I'm not allowed.' Her choice of words and the matter of fact way she said them made Lambert come to halt. His curiosity itching at his insides.

'Not…allowed. Who says you're not allowed to kill them?'

Her demeanour changed. The grin fading and her eyes deepening from turquoise to that of a troubled, storm tossed sea. 'It's just…the rules ok. Don't witchers have rules?'

'Being aloof isn't an attractive quality in a prisoner Blue eyes.' He said smarmily, raising an eyebrow. The storm became more turbulent.

'Prisoners are usually tied up.' She shot back, holding her freed hands up in front of him. 'Although, most captors would at least give their prisoners new shoes if they insisted they walk everywhere.'

Lambert glanced down at her filthy, bare feet. Then slowly let his gaze slide up her body, taking in her ruined, blood and mud-soaked clothes. Coming to rest on her dirt covered cheeks and haystack hair.

'Hmm.' He said, scratching at his beard. 'I'll admit, we could both do with a bath. You more than me obviously.' Blue eyes glowered at him, the storm turning into a hurricane in her eyes. 'I think I saw a river near the village when we were approaching yesterday. We could make a short detour and maybe I can find some other, less swampy clothes for you to wear.' He shot her a smirk as she continued to stare daggers at his head. 'I mean I could do all that…but witchers don't do anything for free. Especially not for monsters they've captured.'

His smirk widened into a shit eating grin as she folded her arms across her chest. 'Fine. I'll answer some questions.' She held up a finger as he opened his mouth. 'One, for the bath. And one for the clothes. So, two.'

'Thought you weren't one to be mysterious.' He said, his voice snarky. She didn't like him throwing her own words back at her, her mouth twisting into a rueful smile.

'Thought you didn't negotiate with monsters.' She shot back at him, doing a pretty impressive imitation of his own snarky tone. He tilted his head back and let out a loud sudden bark of laughter. She looked at him, her blue eyes wide as he finished, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

'Very good. Have it your way. Now, you want a bath or not?' She wrinkled her nose in disdain as she stared down at herself.

'Lead the way.'

He gave another bitter chuckle then headed towards where he had seen the river yesterday. It was only a short walk before they heard the sound of fast flowing water, then the river came into view. The current here was much too strong for them to bathe, and even as he followed the path of the water he saw it drop off abruptly further down. The thundering crash of a waterfall reaching his ears. Lambert led his horse and the girl down an incline, and after negotiating their way past a wall of boulders and thick shrubs they came upon a deep pool where the waterfall descended.

The pool was surrounded by steep wooded banks and the edges of it were dense with reeds and other water plants. Lambert kept his senses on alert for any drowners that might be hiding in the foliage, but so far this area looked to be monster free. He cast a practiced eye over the rippling water of the pool and saw it wasn't anywhere near deep enough to house anything too sinister. Besides, his travel companion was hardly a timid damsel so he wasn't concerned. They were quite a way off the road now, unlikely to get any unwanted visitors. A small patch of bank was clear near the waterfall itself and Lambert chose this spot to tie up his horse and begin rummaging through his saddle bags.

Blue eyes stood at the edge of the pool, staring off into the water. Finding what he was looking for, he walked over to stand beside her. The strange familiarity of her presence not as alarming to the witcher as it probably should've been. Maybe it was the half human side of that made it so easy to be around her? Without looking at the girl, he handed her an off-white shirt and she took it, giving him an odd look.

'Funnily enough, I don't tend to keep women's clothes on my person. This is clean and it'll do for now.' He glanced down at her ridiculously small trousers, they were more like undergarments, and he found his eyes lingering on her bare legs for a little longer than necessary. 'We'll have to find better clothes for you at some point. Along with some boots.'

Blue eyes clutched the shirt to her chest, her expression hard to read. But for some reason Lambert choose that moment to notice that her eyes were exactly the same colour as the pool they were stood next to. 'Thank you.' She said, her voice quieter than usual. 'Umm, are you going to stay here?'

He frowned at her, unsure what she was asking, then realisation hit and he rubbed the back of his head vigorously with one hand.

'No, of course not. I'll be on the other side of those rocks cleaning my swords if you need me. Let me know when you're done will you.' He said, already turning and leaving her alone. His face felt unusually hot and he found himself walking away at quite a pace, not daring to look back at the girl by the pool.

The water felt amazing. Better than amazing, super fucking duper amazing. Ellie was sure she hadn't enjoyed a shower this much in a long time. She tilted her head back and let the cool water pour over her face and shoulders. The road dirt and swamp sludge washing away with the waterfall. She was still wearing her dirty shorts, letting the water wash them as well as her, but she had taken what remained of her cotton vest off and discarded it by the pool. At first, she had held a wary arm over her now exposed chest, unsure whether Lambert was going to keep his promise of staying behind the rocks. But after entering the rushing curtain of water she had removed it, making sure to keep her back to the clear patch of bank where Horse was now grazing peacefully.

Ellie let out a long sigh, the tension over the last few days also leaving her body. It had been a while since she had died for the third time, so her limbs felt noticeably stronger, the nausea that had plagued her after every resurrection had all but disappeared. Another thing she had noticed was the ringing in her ears had vanished again, only briefly rearing its heads when Lambert had demonstrated that fire trick he did with his hands. Maybe it was linked to whatever that was…had he called it magic?

She had never encountered humans, or even hybrids being able to perform feats like that. The closest thing she had seen to his jet of fire was what the Ifrit tribe could do. Producing fire weapons and even wings with their demonic powers. She had always been slightly envious of their abilities. She could make fire, in a roundabout way, but it required summoning lightning and getting it to hit something flammable. A lot of effort. Thinking about the world she had come from, it had been a while since she had tried to open a door to get back.

There was nothing stopping her attempting to return now. Her shackles were off and her captor seemed to be leaving her alone for long periods of time. Even now she was unguarded, glancing over her shoulder through the curtain of water she could see Horse making his way along the bank, no sign of his master. Ellie thought about making a run for it. It would only take her a moment to get a safe distance and then try to open a gateway. The sound of the waterfall would be able to mask the sound of her running from the nearby witcher. But even as she thought about the technicalities of escaping a niggling, prickling sensation under her skin and in her gut made her pause.

She still had no idea why she had ended up here, or how that gateway had even opened. Lambert had promised the place he was taking her would hold the answer to those questions and her gut agreed. The niggling turned into that insistent gentle tugging, like there was a thread connecting her to the man sat beyond those boulders. For now, he seemed to trust her, so she would bide her time and try to understand why she had been brought here.

Deciding she was about as clean as she was going to get in the circumstances, Ellie waded back to the bank, keeping a careful eye on the rocks. There were no prickling sensations that usually signalled someone was watching her, so the witcher had obviously remained true to his word. Reaching the grassy clearing that Horse was still slowly working his way through, she pulled on the shirt Lambert had given her. It was far too large but it was clean and better than the rag of a vest she had been wearing previous.

Rolling up the sleeves to her elbow, Ellie was at least able to use her hands again to tuck in the edge of the garment into her damp but slightly less filthy shorts. It smelt strongly of horse and leather, a result of being kept in a saddlebag for so long, and underneath there was the overpowering sting of spice and manly musk. Ellie had become used to Lambert's scent now, having travelled with him for a few days, so she no longer had to wrinkle her nose in defence of his odd aroma. In fact, having it so close to her face now she could pick out the warming scent of cinnamon specifically. It was a slightly sweet smell, with a blossom of warmth woven in. Picking up her empty dagger belt she debated whether to put it back on, but it seemed pointless considering the daggers it had been holding had been lost.

Feeling less like she had been living in a hole for the past week, Ellie flopped down on the grass next to the pool, letting the few rays of sunlight that were breaking through the canopy dry her slowly. She closed her eyes and listened to Horse's constant munching, the other sounds of the forest weaving into a relaxing background hum. After several minutes of quiet calm, the sound of light footsteps alerted her to someone approaching from behind the wall of boulders. She wasn't worried, the approaching scent matched her new oversized shirt.

'You done?' A smooth voice tinged with sarcasm said. She could sense he was stood over her and even with her eyes shut she could see the half arrogant, half irritated pose he was probably adopting. Cracking open an eye, she looked up at him and sure enough the witcher was staring down at her, his arms folded across his chest.

'I guess.' She said, her mouth twitching at his sneer of annoyance.

'Thanks for letting me know. It's not like I'm trying to get anywhere in a hurry or anything.' Lambert began to mutter to himself as he undid his armour, shedding it on the bank next to her along with his swords. Ellie propped herself up on her elbows, alarmed at her captor's rapid state of undress.

'You want me to go back there?' She asked, her voice cracking embarrassingly as he began to loosen his black undershirt.

'Why? I'm not shy.' His mouth curled up into a smirk as he pulled the shirt over his head, mercifully keeping his leather trousers on as he dived into the pool. The splash he created was nowhere near consistent with his size. She realised he had done a perfect swan dive into the water, creating hardly a ripple.

He stayed underneath for quite a while, demonstrating that along with his heightened senses and strength, he could obviously hold his breath for an inhuman amount of time. Ellie was just starting to become concerned when he resurfaced, letting in a gasp of air and rubbing his hands through his dark, wet hair. He swam a few lengths of the pool, his strokes sure and quick. The girl on the bank watched, unable to look away as the witcher finished and began to walk out of the clear, blue water.

The breath in her throat caught as Lambert waded into the shallows, water dripping from his exposed torso. He was an attractive man for sure, but it wasn't his clearly defined muscles, the smattering of dark hair on his chest or his tight leather trousers that made her chest constrict. The two thin claw marks which were a defining feature of his face turned out to be just the tip of a very large iceberg. His body was covered in what appeared to be years and years of injuries; some old, some fairly recent. The pale flesh of his torso was criss-crossed with claw marks of varying sizes, there were great craters in his sides and abdomen where creatures had obviously taken a bite out of him. A long, ropy scar curved from his belly button around his right hip and disappeared behind his back. It looked like a gigantic claw or blade had sliced him nearly in half. Even though his legs and back were hidden from her view, Ellie suspected that they were also similarly marred and she felt her chest constrict further until it felt like an iron band was wrapped around it.

Slowly she rose to her feet, and as Lambert stood rubbing the water from his hair in the shallows, she approached him as if in a daze. He looked up at her with those arresting amber eyes and followed her progress warily. Ellie stopped a few feet from him, the water lapping at her ankles, and her attention was caught by the newest addition to his trophies. There was a long, jagged cut on his upper arm, the remnants of an attempt to stitch it surrounding the red, puckered flesh. It was healing, but badly, and she was surprised to see it had no sign of infection considering the limited medicine this world likely had. Without thinking she raised a hand to touch the wound, moving forward a few more paces until she was stood toe to toe with the witcher.

His hand shot out as he predicted her intention and grabbed her wrist. It wasn't an aggressive action, in fact his hold was almost gentle, but he firmly held her upraised arm in place. Their eyes locking. The place where his hand touched her wrist felt hot. Almost like she was being branded but for some reason she felt unwilling to pull her hand free from his grasp.

'Watcha' doing there Blue eyes?' He asked. His voice had changed by several degrees. Gone was the sniping, mocking tone she had grown used to. It had taken on a husky quality that made the way he said her infuriating nickname sound like a caress. Ellie felt the band constrict again, but this time it was lower. Her stomach clenched as she scrutinised his face, those cat eyes seeming to bore into her head, trying to read her thoughts.

'Does it hurt?' She offered weakly. Her words coming out in a croak. His face remained unreadable as he shook his head infinitesimally.

'I've had worse.' He replied, his voice quiet. Her traitor eyes slid from his face down to his chest, where the worst was located. They stood only inches apart, the cool water dripping from his raised arm soaking into her clean, white shirt. She could feel it begin to stick to her skin, likely turning it see through but she had little concern for that. She was hypnotised by the effect the water was having on his body.

It gave it a slick sheen, the patch of dark hair near his throat flattened against his defined chest muscles. She watched as a drop of water slowly slid down his torso, her eyes travelling with it. Suddenly, she felt an alarmingly strong urge to reach out and run her hand along its trail. To feel the dip and rise of his abdominal muscles, to explore the jagged scars that littered his torso and follow the water all the way past the pronounced 'v' at his hips to wear another line of black hair disappeared into his trousers. As her eyes came to rest at the junction between his stomach and trousers, she felt the atmosphere shift dramatically.

Up until then there had been a crackling tension; an air of annoyance and caution dancing between them since they had met. Now it changed, grew in weight, pulling the air with it, and out of her already constricted lungs. She took short, ragged gasps as whatever it was intensified, not helped by the fact that she could hear his breathing was laboured too. On top of all this, she couldn't bring herself to look away from his stomach and up to his face again.

'What are you thinking?' His voice snapped her out of her swirling, disorganised thoughts, and her eyes reluctantly travelled back up to his glowing gaze.

That thread, the one that had always told her what to do, started tugging her with almost aggressive insistence towards the strange man in front of her. The fire that had been burning her wrist spread with alarming speed to her gut and pulsated there like an angry Ifrit. She had to put every bit of strength she had into not pulling him towards her, and even more concerning she could see the same struggle reflected in his own face. His jaw tense and his eyes staring at her with none of the haughty disdain he usually reserved for her. Instead those amber eyes were now staring at her intensely, the colour of them closer to fire now.

'So, what do we do now?' His husky voice sent a lance of desire coursing through her demon blood. She could feel her control slipping and this was neither the time or the place for that.

'You-you could let go of my hand maybe.' She managed to stutter out between clenched teeth. He raised an eyebrow slowly. The expression of smug humour more in line with the Lambert she knew, but oddly attractive in this scenario.

'Do you want me to let go of your hand?' She glared up at him, jutting her chin out defiantly. She wanted to punch that smug look off his face but a deeper, louder part of her wondered if maybe kissing him would have the same effect. Her eyes flashed briefly to his full lips. He caught the movement, of course he did, and they pulled up into an equally smug smirk. 'I don't think you do Blue eyes. I think you want me to do something else entirely.'

She could almost taste him she was so close. The volatile, unexpected tension between them was a raging super nova, on the verge of explosion. She felt her feet begin to move forward, to close the distance between them. It was right then that the screaming started, followed by a thunderous roar.