"Um," Ciri said, cradling her cup of mead as all eyes turned to her. "Turns out Geralt and Kain are brothers. Same mother, different fathers. Presumably."

She drank and watched with some amusement as everyone's mouths fell open, eventually directing her gaze to Yennefer who was usually more composed than that.

"But how is it possible?" Dandelion inquired, staring at Ciri in shock. "How did you find out?"

Priscilla was flabbergasted, but smiling. "What a perfect story, the famous White Wolf has a brother!"

"Aw, ye poets can't leave people be!" Zoltan rolled his eyes and poured more wine refilling the cups.

"But it would be a fantastic story," Priscilla said, smiling dreamily. "People do need stories to make their lives a bit better, to enable them to dream. Isn't it worth it? They make the world a better place."

"You lot will keep your mouths closed," Ciri demanded, pointing at Dandelion and Priscilla in particular.

Yennefer sat quietly, funneling through the news and the fact that Geralt suddenly appeared to have managed to gain more family – actual family.

"How can you be sure they're brothers? Is that why Kain's come?"

Usually, it always felt as if Yennefer should come up with an answer, something that sounded plausible to her mind but only this time there was nothing.

Ciri shook her head at Yennefer. "No. They didn't know until a few hours ago. A sketch by Avallac'h. Kain's mother. Geralt's mother. Corinne's powers confirmed it through visions."

Dandelion gaped. "Your elf friend knew their mother? How... What..."

"That elvish prick knows their mother?" Zoltan grimaced angrily. "What's his business in all that?!"

Yennefer grimaced at the prospect that Avallac'h might be the boy's father or perhaps even Geralt's. The Wolf didn't have any elflike qualities that she knew of, but stranger things had happened - hadn't it?

She wondered how Geralt was feeling about the news, a bit disappointed that he hadn't told her himself. In the past he would have, she might even have been the first, but now he'd slotted her in with the cluster of gossips.

Yennefer finished off the mead from her mug, pushed it aside and stared at the group's collective faces of incomprehension. She had nothing else that she could add.

"That is still a mystery and I doubt Avallac'h is keen to explain," Ciri said, drinking from her cup. If they were lucky, they'd find out anyway.

"Hardly anyone would like that explanation," Zoltan grumbled, and drank.

"When the time is right we'll wring the information from him," Yennefer said.

"This all stays between us for now," Ciri told them all sternly, except for Yennefer because Ciri was certain she already was aware. "It is not our information to spread."

Yennefer hardly bothered nodding, regarding the rest, watching as one at a time they did so and insisted to keep it to themselves.

The troubadours were the only two that hesitated and Yennefer could already see lyrics wheeling away in Dandelion's head about the White Wolf and his growing pack.

Even so, he wouldn't outright blurt it to the world – not yet.

She glanced toward the stairs, deciding that she'd drunk enough and slowly stood. "I'm going to take a bath."

This was directed more at Ciri than anyone else and coded with pretext. Yennefer wanted to eavesdrop.

"Alright." Ciri gave her a smile and watched her journey towards the stairs before finding distraction in one of Zoltan's Gwent stories.

Yennefer had meant for Ciri to come with her so that she could peel apart her brain a bit more about Geralt's news and what that now meant for her and her pursuits or lusts (although in the grand scheme Yennefer doubted it meant much – it was too late for that). She paused on the landing for a minute, saw Ciri fall into easy conversation with Zoltan and continued the rest of the way up the stairs, being light on her feet as not to give herself away too much, situating herself outside of The Lodges door to hear if she could pick up on their conversation the conventional way.

"I've been told you wanted to talk to me," Geralt said as Triss closed the door behind him. Philippa and Margarita were sitting at the table, looking smug. It made him suspect they knew something. There was no telling what it was, however.

"We always enjoy talking to you, Geralt," Philippa smiled, then the smile dimmed a half as she appeared pensive. It was hard to tell with that blindfold. "I know what you're scared of, Witcher. What that traitor with raven locks has probably poisoned your mind with already, even though we have not talked to her about anything concerning the Lodge and our business with you and Ciri. It is all between you and us. So, would you tell me what put a crease on your brow? What did she tell you?"

"Why disturb the air with useless chatting?" Geralt inquired and folded his arms. "Simply get to business and tell me what you demand for your help?"

"Demand?" Margarita chuckled bitterly. "Look at us, Geralt, we're outnumbered and weakened. What can we demand?"
"We are going to negotiate this matter like civilized people," Philippa said. "So each side wins. Isn't that what the current predicament demands? Ciri is in mortal danger and would probably perish if we don't join our efforts to fight the Hunt back. What would you offer for our risking our lives? What do you deem fair?"

"Yennefer has been working with the Emperor to find Ciri," Geralt said. "You are aware. She offers you an imperial pardon. No more hiding in dark holes. Isn't it fair enough? A chance for a new life?"

"Nice offer," Philippa said. "But just out of curiosity, Geralt: say we help you. Say we managed to defeat the Hunt and save Ciri from their ambition. What then? Have you given it any thought, whatsoever? What happens to Ciri's life then?"

"It's for her to decide," Geralt said, casting a quick glance at the door where Triss stood, her arms folded. She looked worried, her eyes darting between the three.

"She was a mere child when she was taken," Philippa said. "She never grew up, don't you see it? She doesn't know what's best for her. She might believe your life is full of wonders and she needs to be a witcher because she is your Surprise. But she cannot be mutated, she cannot overcome her mortal human nature, and you know better than anyone what your life is like. Now, try and place a young childish girl in your shoes and see how she fares." She leaned forward, her blindfold made Geralt feel her absent eyes were burning through him. "Do you wish to see her die? Torn apart by a kikimora? A griffin? A vampire? Is this a fate you wish for your ward? Your special girl?"

Geralt winced and cringed inwardly at every picture she painted. The worst part was that he couldn't argue her points.

"She will be free to choose," he said firmly, glaring at Philippa, right in the middle of her blindfold. "Free choice is what I wish for my ward. No one else has any say in her fate."

Margarita shook her head subtly, and Philippa sneered nastily.

"Well," she said, "we shall see how it all pans out."

"Do we have your help in return for a pardon?" Geralt asked.

"It's not the only thing we need," Margarita said. "We still need help in locating our remaining members, those who are still alive. It's best for everyone that we do. You need more sorceresses if you want to fight the Hunt."

Geralt nodded, "Very well. If you have any leads, I'll follow them."

"We are close," Triss said, stepping nearer. "As soon as we know where to look, we'll tell you. Thank you, Geralt."

"Yes, we're grateful," Margarita agreed. Philippa said nothing and watched him go in silence.

Yennefer was right behind the door, and Geralt closed it quickly to not let them notice.

"Were you listening?" he asked, regarding her with a mix of amusement and disbelief. He shook his head and started away from their room.

Yennefer straightened up from where she'd been pressing an ear to the wood panel trying to listen through it the old fashioned way when it opened. She hardly looked even the slightest bit embarrassed.

She'd heard a little of their conversation—their voices had picked up as things got heated—but she hadn't heard every word as the wood and the chatter from downstairs had muffled parts of their negotiations. Even if the gist was simple enough. Yennefer only had to confirm.

"I was," she answered, falling into step beside him. "They didn't bring up their plans for your brother? They accepted the pardons?"

Geralt nodded. "They also need help in saving the others. They're searching for clues - with whatever means they have."

He pushed the door into his room open and walked in, pulling the swords harness off.

"There was not a word about Kain."

"They still need you. They don't want to rub you the wrong way."

How long before Triss learned that he was Geralt's brother and how was that going to change up their schemes?

Yennefer walked over to the bed and immediately made herself comfortable. "You want to talk about the fact that you acquired a sibling?"

Geralt shrugged, unbuckling his jerkin. "How do you suggest we talk about it? It's still a new thought, and even though I like him and we're similar in many ways, it's not yet clear how I can be a brother to an Elder Blood. Assuming he is it – which is a big 'if', for I don't see any symptoms in him I had seen in Ciri when I brought her to Kaer Morhen."

"That's nothing a little investigation won't fix. I even know where to get most the source material. Avallac'h."

Yennefer didn't plan to ask him outright either. She didn't trust a thing that came out of his mouth and knew he'd limit certain aspects to serve himself.

"Thought or no thought though, you've got to have some kind of opinion on the matter. It's not everyday someone claims to be a witcher's brother. Blood brother. Do you trust it?"

"I do. He had no way of knowing what my mother looked like. He has no gain in staging anything. He never wanted to talk about his mother, but Avallac'h pressed him into it. Otherwise we would have never known."

"Why would Avallac'h press him into it? He made the connection?"

"Avallac'h has been very curious about him, and he pointed out that Kain couldn't have been at the witcher school forty years ago and be thirty-three with simple half-blood magic. He implied Kain had to be Elder Blood to be able to do that. And thus he pushed Kain into a dream session to find out the truth."

"Unless he is a sorcerer of some kind and likes to inhale mandrake. I'm not exactly a rounded eighty years myself." Not that Geralt would know that. Yennefer forgot. Although given her reputation she was sure he knew something of her age and the fact that it had nothing to do with her mask. "It's not unlikely that there could be a simpler explanation."

"He appears to be Elder Blood, though we still don't know how, since he has no connection to Ciri's royal line of Cintra. His— our mother manipulated him into using his powers to travel back in time and so delivered him to the School of the Cat. And after the massacre she found him wounded and did it again to return back to their time. He didn't remember that, so he didn't know."

Geralt discarded his jerkin and shirt on the chair and checked the water in the wooden tub the maids had prepared. It was still warm.

"She's been hiding him all his life, and judging by the fact that he didn't have to travel through different worlds to be on the constant run like Ciri, she did a far better job than I."

"Give yourself a bit more credit, Geralt," Yennefer mused, mulling over the information and everything their mother had done to save Kain. The more she learned, the more possible it became, but at the same time, two such destinies linked to one? It seemed unfathomable that the world would play a game like that, unless, in all seriousness, their mother somehow knew that their paths would collide and Geralt would be the only one to protect them – Kain.

Yennefer studied Geralt's back, slipped off the mattress and slowly walked up behind him.

"You did everything within your power to protect Ciri, and more. You're a warrior, not a sorcerer. Unless you've been holding out on me and discovered that you too can shift through time?" Perhaps he'd go back and prevent Yennefer from dealing with that Dijinn and from Ciri having to escape the first time.

"I'm not Elder Blood, I'm just a witcher." Geralt slipped out of his trousers and lowered himself into the tub. "Our mother is a healer, a sorceress. The answer is in his father, but we don't know who he was. She never told him."

Geralt slipped into the water and Yennefer eased onto the rim of the tub, dipping a hand inside to get a feel of the temperature. "Once we've dealt with The Wild Hunt you'll have something to do with your time. I assume for curiosity sake you'll be pursuing more information?"

"What information?"

Yennefer swept a chastising hand across the water to splash his chest gently. "Information on his father and his connection to your mother. What else?"

"Neither of us has any clues, and she is impossible to find unless she wants to be found. I don't think she does - she kept telling Kain they had to stay hidden and be apart for that reason."

"Yet if history serves, people—and I assume she is still human—make consequent mistakes in time as they grow weary of running the same circles." Yennefer probed his mind, wondering if he had interest in seeing her again and how he might react if it was to happen. Would he care?

She shifted along the wooden rim until she was able to touch her fingers to his chest, to run them along his shoulder and down his arm in light caress.

"I suppose with your successful negotiations earlier, that I should go see Emhyr and secure The Lodges pardons."

"Good, because it's our only reward for them. It better be possible."

"I'll make sure he understands that there isn't a choice. If he wants Ciri to survive The Wild Hunt then he'll do everything in his power to make it happen, even if it means he has to step over that infamous pride."

Emhyr wasn't the most pleasant to labor with, nor did Yennefer like his intentions for his descendant, but he had the resources and the means needed.

She withdrew her hand from Geralt's chest and stood, flicking the water off her fingertips, drying them on the nearby fabric he'd used to dry himself. "I'll hopefully be back in a day or two."

Geralt peered up at her, gauging. "You've barely been around and leaving again? Emhyr can wait - he's just a portal away, isn't he."

Hope sparked in Yennefer's chest with sickening longing.

She undid the intricate buttons and laces that held together her corset, shrugging out of her clothes, setting them aside on the back of a chair before sliding in behind him to join him in the bath.

Without a word and with help from a nearby cloth, she begun to wash him, taking her time with his back, stomach and arms, working him with the same kind of attentiveness as the bathhouse whores he liked to frequent.

Geralt watched her for a long time, taking in every bit of possible emotion running through her inscrutable and impossibly attractive features, every gesture, every touch she shared with his body that made him yearn for more. Soon enough it became painfully obvious to her straddling him.

Geralt reached to take her chin between his index finger and thumb and drew her to him for a kiss. Slow and probing at first, but growing more intense and demanding.

Yennefer's lips parted and brushed against his own with fervor the more uninhibited the kiss became, hands having stopped their obliging strokes, the forgotten cloth tickling her knee like an errant sea creature.

She shifted her hands from his body to the back of the tub for support and lever, rolling her hips until their lower bodies rubbed against one another, an uncoordinated friction that soon made Yennefer ache with need.

She pulled back from the kiss sharply, gasping for breath, reaching between them to take a hold of his cock, to caress him once or twice until he was rock hard.

Geralt's heartbeat picked up, his breath became subtly shaky. He kept watching her face while his fingers traveled along her arm and to her collarbone, trailing it and dipping lower slowly, coming to circle her hardened nipple.

His touch left a trail of fiery sparks in its wake, wiping away rationality and sense, replacing it with desire, vulnerability and desperation.

Yennefer's breath caught and her hand tightened on him, guiding him to her entrance, using her legs to ease down on him, to take him into her body with agonizing deliberateness and with the purpose of driving them both mad with lust.

And perhaps love.

Griffin was quite cozy in his cave. Kain made him a small campfire and left him to his evening ritual of cleaning the feathers.

The place Kain's feet carried him to was Fealinn's hut. She hugged him and put a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon and tomatoes in front of him. She helped herself to a plate, as well, and listened while Kain talked between bites. Deep in thought, she set a mug of cider in front of him and sat down sipping hers.

"It makes more sense now," she confessed. "Your power feels similar to Ciri's, and now we know why.

"As for your mother, I've got a lot of respect for her - how clever to hide you in the past! And making a connection to Brokilon to ensure your later return to it as well as continuation of your magic line, and getting The Waters to make you transition between times - it's nothing short of a master plan."

Kain peered at her, frowning, "Continuation of my line?"

She sneered, "She knew what the dryads would want from you - and she decided that it was the best place to hide new Elder Blood generation. How many are there, a dozen at least? If she's been driven by the wish to renew magic in this world, she has made a great progress."

Kain scoffed, setting the mug down. "The generation of brainwashed children with extra powers controlled by a community that dreams to destroy human kind. Great plan, indeed."

Fealinn laughed. "Oh, think about it, Cath! Look at yourself: how brainwashed have you been? The ancient blood - even impure - will enable them to make their own decisions. They won't live in the doctrine for their entire life, they will quickly learn to think for themselves. If you and Ciri are any indication, their stubborn and headstrong nature will help them pick their path."

She wasn't wrong, it felt reasonable. Kain nodded and closed the subject. It wasn't his favorite topic to discuss.

"Even if he plays coy, he must be the only one in close proximity to know anything," Fealinn said. "It's obvious how that elf pushed you to do that session. Why would he leave?"

"Because then he would appear uninterested and altruistic, and later he'd read the answers in Ciri's or Geralt' mind."

She smirked spreading her arms, "See, obvious. He knows far more than he lets on. We cracked those on our service. Only humans and dwarves and half-bloods - never an Aen Elle sage. The only lead you can hope for is whatever Ciri states he hides in that secret hideout." She regarded Kain in thought, then added, "Would you want to find your mother and ask?"

Kain reflected on it and shrugged. "I wouldn't want to ruin her hiding - she did say we both had to hide and be apart. I see there is a good reason for it. Geralt has been less fortunate when it comes to her attention, which means I can survive as it is. And also... it does feel like I have no burning questions - more like it would be seeking confirmation for things I already know."

She nodded. "Fair. I hope she is very good at hiding. Who knows, maybe Avallac'h is one of those she tried to hide you from. I'm pretty sure he is."

"He's yet to do anything questionable."

"He's a Sage," she reasoned. "He will be more careful."

She approached Kain, pressed herself against him at the door and touched her lips to his. She drew away and smiled.

"Be very careful, and not just with him," she said. "Be careful what you say to Geralt, Ciri, Dandelion and every person he could probe for answers."

"I believe it's a bit late for that," Kain smiled meekly.

She stroked his cheek. "No alertness is ever in vain, Cath. Be safe."

Kain planted a kiss to the corner of her mouth and stepped out with his hood on. The sky had cleared and stars were twinkling, though the chill brought by the rain lingered in the air.

Geralt let out a long unsteady breath, his eyes closing to savor the delectable sensation of her body moving against his. He had to open them again next moment to eagerly read her face, to let her gaze penetrate his and let him into its cold violet fire of magic and secrets.

Secrets he longed to reveal.

Yennefer's hand shifted from between their bodies, right hand coming to rest on his shoulder, massaging before circling around his neck so she could hug herself closer as she set the pace for their gyrating bodies.

She'd been thinking that every time they came together to make love that she'd end up crying, that it would consume her as it had done (bittered by the thought of him visiting another in Yennefer's absence), but it was there, only this time she wasn't mourning a loss of something incomprehensible but rejoicing, keen to jolt his memory.

"Pity you haven't considered toting around any stuffed unicorns," Yennefer murmured slightly breathless, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his jaw and then his neck.

Geralt unwittingly reclined his head back against the rim of the wooden tub, closing his eyes and letting her ignite his every cell with the magic of her kisses. Her words, however, cracked the harmony confusing him.

"What?" he muttered.

Yennefer clenched her muscles around him to focus his attention and briefly sucked at a spot on his neck, meeting his eyes. "Unicorns. Mystical creatures."

Geralt hissed in pleasure, feeling his focus scatter like spilt beads. "What… about them…"

She pressed a kiss to his mouth to impishly smother his pleasure, raising up until he'd almost slipped from her entirely before lowering herself again. "What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you think about them?"

Geralt's breath hitched subtly with the waves of pleasure coursing through him with her every move, every tease and brush of her lips. Her question was strange… so strange, like a gust of wind behind the window…

"What… do you mean… I don't think about them."

Yennefer fisted a hand into his hair, gripping him punishingly as she reclaimed his mouth and picked up the pace, becoming more frantic with every rock.

Geralt hissed again, pleased with her rough urges, his fingers squeezing on her hips and sliding higher, cupping her breasts and squeezing, stroking, pinching her nipples with a small sneer twitching in the corners of his mouth as he did.

Yennefer arched with and into his hands, groaning into the kiss as the first beginnings of that delicious release began to take root.

Geralt's mouth opening with laborious breath pushing out in hitched gasps as the orgasms rolled nearer like an avalanche of heat, he found her throat with his hand, closing his fingers around it and locked his lips with hers in a deep, passionate kiss. His other hand's grip on her hip was bruising as they hit the top together in a blinding flash of ecstasy, groaning into each other's skin.

The inside of Yennefer's thighs ached from exertion, a hand wrapping around his own, keeping it locked around her throat, wanting in part for him to apply pressure, to end her as he already had done and rebuild them anew. She wanted so desperately for it to be that unassuming, practically screaming into his mouth as their lips fused in torrid hunger and the wave of blinding heat coiled around her.

When it was over and their movements had jerked to a stop, Yennefer stayed pressed against Geralt's chest, drinking him in until she no longer could, astonished that there weren't tears in her eyes like there had been every other time they'd copulated.

She should be disheartened that he didn't remember their previous love making, that no amount or mention of anything they might have done stirred any recognition, but truly, what was she expecting? For him to come with revelation?

Yennefer had magic, but she didn't have a magic pussy.

Eventually, their table emptied one by one. Dandelion left first and Priscilla soon followed, having to take care of newly arrived patrons. Zoltan murmured something about a Gwent game at another tavern and left as well.

Ciri sat alone for a few minutes, emptying her cup and idly watching Dandelion and Priscilla take care of new customers, before finally getting to her feet as well.

Geralt and Yennefer had not returned. Did that mean they were still in conversation with the Lodge?

She climbed the stairs and sneakily pressed her ear to the sorceresses' door, trying to listen for the familiar voices of her parents.

When Kain returned, the table was occupied by another group and rather noisy one: they were already drunk and laughing explodingly.

He glimpsed Priscilla behind the counter and Dandelion among a group of guests with best glasses in hands.

Kain went past them hurrying for the stairs and up to get to his room. There, in depth of the corridor he found Ciri with her ear to the Lodge's door.

"Nothing!" Ciri exclaimed when she heard approaching footsteps behind her, straightening. "I wasn't doing anything. Oh, it's you..." She breathed a small sigh of relief and led Kain to his room, shutting the door behind them lest one of the sorceresses heard them and demanded another chat. "Feeling better?"

Kain regarded her with alarmed confusion and took the swords off his back. "I wasn't feeling bad to begin with."

"Oh...right." She leaned back against his door. "Geralt went to talk with the Lodge and he hasn't returned yet."

Kain stilled for a moment, then began to unbuckle his jerkin. "Feels like he's in his room." He jerked a thumb toward the wall between their quarters. "There."

His shirt under it was still a bit damp after the evening swim in the woods. He put two logs out of the offered pile into the small fireplace and flames flared to life beneath them, gradually growing their tongues.

Ciri frowned, not because Kain could sense him but because Geralt had not stopped by to let her know what had happened. Did that mean it was bad? That The Lodge demanded more than they could give?

"You went swimming?" she asked, having caught sight of the damp fabric of Kain's shirt when he moved past her.

Warmth soon started to spread through the room, courtesy of his magical fire.

"Indeed. I've been to the woods, and it's stopped raining."

Kain lay the jerkin on the chair, then pulled his shirt off over his head and hung it on the back of it, then moved it to the fireplace to dry it quicker.

Ciri tried not to stare – she truly did. But it was a losing battle. His chest was so smooth; his magical healing abilities had clearly saved him plenty of scars. She wondered what it would be like to lick those little ridges of muscles across his stomach…

Ciri cleared her throat and forced her gaze to the ceiling. "Is the griffin alright?"

"For as long as he finds a cave and some prey for breakfast, he's fine." Kain leaned the swords against the wall next to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. "Are you all right?"

Depending on what the Lodge had said, Ciri was not quite sure. But... "Right now? Yes."

"Would be nice, but you still are worried."

"So little it is barely noticeable. It is my default state," Ciri said, taking a seat beside him.

"It's too stirred for a default state," Kain commented. "Aim for calmer."

Ciri searched his gaze. "Alright." She reached for him, gently taking his face in her hands and leaned in to kiss him. It felt as though her heart was going to leap out of her throat, but that sensation faded into the background as a pleasant tingling in her lower abdomen came to the forefront. His lips were soft against hers and she was certain had she been standing her knees would have been feeling weak.

When her hands reached for Kain, he knew her intention, but the touch of her mouth to his still came as a shock - an electric shock that went through his nerves and set his heart on a quickened pace. It wasn't unpleasant, but what else it was he couldn't quite understand. A part of him was resisting and wished to run away.

He did not pull away, but he did not quite open to Ciri's touch either. She withdrew, trying to savor the sensation instead of embracing the fear he would outright reject her and run.

"Sorry," she murmured, turning to face forward again and giving him that space he clearly needed.

Kain watched her for a bit, unable to think. He didn't even know what he could think. In simple terms, she pushed for something he was avoiding.

"Are you sorry?" Kain asked.

Ciri considered that a moment. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. I'm not sorry I did it. I have been wanting to for quite some time now."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you want to do it?"

"Because I like you. Because I am attracted to you. You know this already," Ciri said softly, a little annoyed he was making her repeat it once more when she expected not to hear any of the sort in return. It made her feel so very vulnerable.

She was lonely, even despite her family surrounding her - after years apart she hadn't found the connection yet and sought for another one that felt more real and fresh.

None of that she would agree with, however, if Kain voiced it.

"I like you, Ciri," he admitted in a soft voice, looking at the fire crackling in the fireplace. "I admire you. You're so open, despite everything. And I'm not. I've been perfecting the art of being closed, ever since the School of Cat helped me discover that lust was the only way for the women there and a witcher was not meant to love. And Brokilon reinforced the lessons. It's hard to overcome a habit as strong."

"And what does that mean?" Ciri asked, toying with the frayed edges of his bedding. "For us?"

"It depends on what you want for 'us'."

"I don't know yet," she admitted. "What we already have. Friendship. And eventually, more."

"Eventually," Kain murmured and bit back a bitter chuckle. He studied her for a moment, eyes narrowing. "After all those people, including Eredin, trying to get you in bed by any means possible, how do you find it in you to be open to it?"

"I'm not open to them. I'm open to those I might actually want to have such an experience with. There lies the big difference: Being forced and having the option to choose for myself."

Kain frowned at a sudden thought that popped in his mind and eyed her with a mild suspicion. "You haven't... had it before, have you?"

Ciri didn't meet his gaze. "Not with a man, no."

Kain considered it. "So that's why that hag in the tent put it so."

Ciri shrugged. "I don't know her reasoning. Does it make you see me differently?"

"It just shows why a certain level of curiosity is still there." He regarded her with interest. "Did you love her?"

"No," Ciri said, then reconsidered. "Yes. I don't know. It hurt when she died."

"You felt something for her," Kain stated. "What was it?"

Ciri lifted her shoulders in a shrug again. "Not sure I can find the words for it. Admiration, maybe? She was beautiful and clever and brave. A very good fighter. I think I thought I loved her back then. I was twelve or thirteen and she… was my first real sexual experience."

Kain nodded, peering at the fire pensively.

"My first one was at School. A Feline everybody wanted. I was a bit hopeful at fourteen and open to feeling more than she ever would, and she was curious, insatiable and wanted to break me in. I stirred her curiosity. I learned pretty soon how all of it was never going beyond physical lust for any female there around me. I stood out among those mutated young witchers and had to compensate by self-control – like signs with magic. I learned to control emotions and desires as well as any mutated witcher in ideal would. I left all ideas about mixing feelings and sex in my gone childhood.

"And Brokilon… There was nothing. No feelings, emotions or even desire itself was absent. It was all for the results. Rare males were breeding studs. Morénn was the only one treating me differently. But I know I didn't love her. Not with that grand love that claims you forever. There was affection, attraction, appreciation. I was grateful for at least that connection that helped endure their forest life. I felt lost when she died."

Ciri frowned. "If there was no desire, how could they go through with it? How did that work?"

"Physical and emotional desire are different things," Kain said. "They know ways to trick the body. Your own nature can trick your body. It can even misinterpret emotions and react with unwanted results."

"They do that to you?"

Kain shrugged, not liking to remember. "I knew their ways. I knew it would be required if I chose to stay. So I let them. My body had its own needs, and they all were pretty. Cold and detached, but pretty and skilled."

Skilled. Something Ciri was not. She nodded. "I suppose sometimes we must make sacrifices. I gave in to the Aen Elle's demands and attempted to give them a child so that they would let me go."

Kain turned his head slowly and regarded her. "What did you let them do?"

"I agreed to let the King fuck me. He didn't, in the end. Couldn't go through with it. But he tried. Over and over."

Kain made a pained face, not really sure what to make out of it.

"I told you: he couldn't go through with it. Fairly certain it doesn't count."

Kain was confused. "What doesn't count?"

Ciri swallowed, feeling distinctly uncomfortable now. "He was never… inside me. Not with his cock."

Kain shook his head slowly and turned back to watch the fire. "It seems we have it even on the freak experiences. That's why it amazes me you never shut yourself down like I did."

"I did. Literally. For weeks. My captors called me an empty puppet. But I found my way back.

"I am fueled by emotion. I cannot tamper it down like I should."

"And I can't let them out because I'm used to hold them locked up."

"Do you think I am attractive?" Ciri asked suddenly, watching him. "Have I been mistaken in thinking we have… chemistry?"

Kain turned to her, perplexed. Her eyes were searching him, almost frantic. "You're beautiful, Ciri," he said. "It's simply hard for me to… to let myself feel. It's been too long since I was fourteen."

"I am not trying to push you. I just… It is hard for me to understand what you are thinking sometimes. And if all the attraction was completely one-sided, I would rather know now before I… you know. Get in too deep."

Kain sighed and squeezed her shoulder, looking into her unbelievable emerald eyes. "You're an amazing girl, and I like you. I'd die protecting you. The attraction…" he trailed off, frowning in search of how to put it. "You deserve the world and your dreams coming true, someone who isn't confused, who's open and passionate like you are. And I'm not even sure how to feel, anymore." He stroked her cheek and withdrew his hand. "I became a true witcher without mutations and made it my armor. It grew into my skin, and it's hard to reverse it."

That left Ciri more confused than she had been in the first place. But she did understand his struggle and had been truthful when she'd said she did not mean to push him.

Ciri smiled a little and swept the hair out of his eyes with her hand. "Alright. I shall keep all that in mind. I cannot promise you I will no longer harbor romantic feelings for you. I can't just turn that off. But I will respect the boundaries you set."

Kain narrowed his eyes with both wonder and doubt, "How are you so sure in your feelings? Maybe it's just a need of closeness, seeking a connection."

The groans from behind the wall broke the mood a bit and almost made Kain smirk.

"Oh, Gods…" Ciri breathed at the recognizable sound of her happy parents.

At least they were getting along, she assumed.

"Do you think I have not been in need of closeness and connections most of my life? Do you think I have not searched for it? Everyone I had such an experience with… I only imagined them with me until I could find Geralt and Yennefer. It was just a survival tactic. With you it is very different. I don't know how to explain it other than… I feel you in my heart."

It was an explanation too uncertain and veiled for Kain's mind and logic, and he didn't quite know what it felt like.

"Elder Blood…" he murmured. "It might be that magical attraction that tells you there's another one similar to you. What if you mistook it for… romantic feeling?"

"You are doing it again," Ciri said, close to glaring. "Stop trying to write off my feelings as something else because it makes you uncomfortable. You are not required to return them, but you do not get to dismiss my emotions as if I am not capable of understanding them myself."

A somber shadow passed through Kain's face, a small bitter smile touched the corners of his mouth. "I'm asking you because I am – struggling to understand what I feel. It's hard to decipher what you feel when you've learned to elude it as well as I did."

"Yes. Your feelings, not mine. Trust that I know my own."

Ciri was silent a moment.

"It is alright to take your time. To search and explore, like I will have to do with my magic. But it is important to me that you know. So I will not have regrets. Because I know I took a risk and, no matter the outcome, it was worth it."

Kain smiled sadly, "Was it?"

"Yes," she said determinedly. "Because then at least I know I did what I could. I would not be left with bitter regrets, wondering what might have happened had I only plucked up my courage."

"You put way too much faith in me," Kain said, smiling. "More than I'm worth."

"You don't see yourself like I do, I think."

"No, I don't. But then again, I know myself better than you do, I dare assume."

"Probably. Does not mean you recognize your own effect on other people. Or the world around you."

Arguing this was useless because she was right: when it came to any personal relationship Kain tried to avoid, he never paid too much mind to discovering a reason why someone tried to have a relationship with him. Those contemplations ended at Cat School with its disappointments.

"Are you going to be all right with your sleep?" he asked to change the subject as he got up to check his shirt. It was dry enough and he put it on.

"Yennefer gave me the draught and it should last me five days. I trust her abilities, so yes, I think I will be fine."

Ciri got to her feet, assuming the change of topic meant he wanted to call it a night.

"For as long as you're certain," Kain shrugged. "If you're not, you can stay here." He gave a small humorous smile and added, "I won't bother you with sex, so we'll just sleep."

"You may not, but I might," Ciri teased, then seriously considered it. "Alright. Maybe I should stay until I am absolutely certain the potion will work. I'll go fetch one."

Kain nodded and fed another log to the fire, then poured himself a cup of water from the pitcher on the table. Zoltan had learned his preferences and was using the knowledge.

Ciri stepped outside and to her own room where she found the pouch of glass vials, taking one of them with her back to Kain's room. She placed it on the nightstand and unlaced her boots, removed her jerkin, and eventually her trousers. She felt comfortable enough now to sleep in her shirt and undergarments, even with Kain next to her. Their little talk had helped, though he probably did not think so.

And maybe Fealinn had helped as well.

When she settled under the covers, Kain lay down beside her and waved a hand to put out the candles on the table. The fireplace crackled cozily casting orange flickers across the walls.

Ciri leaned up on her elbow so she could drink the potion, wincing slightly at the bitter taste before she swallowed it down and put the flask back on the nightstand.

She got comfortable beneath the covers, turning to face him because she quite liked knowing he was close by, and closed her eyes.

A cover of fog lies over the swamps and looks like a shimmering veil of silver, but Kain can't see any sources of light. There is a dark sky above him and no moon in sight. As if the dark of night has swallowed the moon and left only stars to twinkle as if they cry over the loss of their mother.

New Moon, Kain muses, looking around. Not a good time.

The swamps are eerily quiet; no frogs, no drowners, no water hug... He walks slowly, trying to make no sounds. He doesn't know where to go or whether he even should move, but there are no other ideas.

What if he's stuck here if he doesn't move?

Not only the quiet of this place is eerie - no sense of direction to hold on to adds no certainty, either. Kain tries to stick to one direction but there is no way of telling if he hasn't lost it. As well as how much time has passed. It seems to be flowing endlessly.

There is something far ahead among the trees. He can't make anything out until he gets closer. It's a tall wooden house that looks like a church with its tall cone-like roof. A dozen yards to the right there is a hut like a hunter would have. But it doesn't feel interesting. It feels dead.

The tall cone-roof house, however, feels...

...dark... black... thick like a monster blood that sticks to you like tar...

Kain reaches for the door knob, hesitating. He wishes he knew if there is a way to get out of here without looking inside.

A laughter. A quiet sound from the inside... He yanks his hand back from the knob, listening.

Sounded like...

A cackle.

Wincing, he steps back and something gleams under the doorknob rocking on its chain. He narrows his eyes in sudden recognition.

A Wolf medallion. Vesemir's.

Kain snapped his eyes open, staring at the ceiling while he tried to slow down his pulse.

Sleep came easily to Ciri and there were no dreams. No Eredin or past trauma waiting for Ciri in the darkness.

And yet she did not sleep all the night through. Kain stirred beside her. It was light. Such small, subtle movements she should not have noticed. But she did.

She pushed herself onto her elbow and watched him, his closed eyelids fluttering slightly before they suddenly snapped open.

"Don't tell me he visits you now."

Kain looked at her with a subtle reprimand. "You can't sleep again?"

"I felt something. You were stirring," Ciri said, laying back down with her hands folded beneath her cheek. "Nightmare?"

"No. I was in some swamps. And there was a wooden house. I didn't go in because I felt something bad inside."

Ciri frowned. "Do you think it is a vision? Something to do with your mother?"

"Rather with you. Or us." He looked at her. "There was a Wolf Medallion on the door knob. I saw it before I woke. It's Vesemir's. Yours."

Ciri swallowed. "The Crone?"

"I don't have any other ideas."

"An omen? Or do you think she was just on your mind?"

"I wasn't thinking about her. But seems like she's thinking about us."

"Not surprising. We killed her sisters," Ciri remarked, looking to the ceiling.

"It was a rather ambitious intention. We could do two, but three was a bit too much." Kain sighed. "If I could have used my powers there. But I couldn't draw from there - it was their territory. Drawing from a magic so dark is like poisoning oneself."

"I know. It would have gone differently had we both used our powers. But, as you've told me, regrets are futile." She turned to him again. "And two Crones dead are better than none."

"One bitter Crone might do damage, too, if she comes up with the right idea of where to hit harder," Kain mused, folding his arms beneath his head.

"Yes. But there is no use worrying about that until it happens. Is there?" He was the one who had been trying to change Ciri's thinking about that, after all.

"I hope so. If it's just a dream due to her anger, then yes, we can leave it be."

It was dawning behind the windows. Kain closed his eyes in hopes to not end up in the swamps again.

If not, at least they'd face her together.

Ciri watched him as he tried to drift back to sleep and after a while, she joined him, slumbering lightly but happily beneath the warm covers.

Yennefer brought her hands to the side of Geralt's face, to the larger scar across his chest and then carefully brushed his hair aside, reaching for the cloth she'd lost in the water.

"It's probably best you get some rest, I suspect The Lodge is going to do their utmost to run you ragged saving the rest of their members. Will you need me?"

Geralt drank in her face with that slight color in her cheeks, with a gleam in her eyes that were like cold fire shining amongst the rain of raven locks, her lips parted and her breast raising high while she was catching her breath.

He smiled lazily, stroking her thigh. "I thought we made a good team, until you refused to jump down to the sewers with me."

"If there was a decent incentive in it for me I would." Although, if he had even an inkling of who Yennefer was he'd know that wasn't true and that she was merely being lively. She smirked and glanced down at his chest. "I believe your body is sufficiently clean, although there is nothing I can do about the mind."

"There is nothing I would want to be done to my mind," Geralt reasoned. "There's been enough done already, if we believe all the testimonies."

It had been said in jest, and yet Yennefer understood where he was coming from. Poor choice of humor on her part. She set aside the cloth, captured his lips once more and then slowly stood so that she could get out.

"What if it was to fix what had been broken?"

"What do you want to say? That I've been broken?"

"Of course not. The only thing that's been broken is us. At least the part in which you remember me. What we've been through and how long it's taken to get us where we are – could have been."

Geralt sighed and looked at her wearily. "If only I could give you what you want. I don't know how."

"Nor do I know how to take it. You've also just said you'd rather not have your mind scrambled again. Not that I blame you. You've been through it twice too much. Every time I've been one of the more predominant fixtures lost."

She patted herself dry with the sheet that had been laid out for him.

"I'm beginning to feel it might be a spiritual arrangement. I know you don't remember this, but when we dealt with the golden dragon, he said we were made for one another and that it wasn't going to work. He wasn't the last voice. I didn't do us any favors either."

Geralt studied her in silence while he thought about it.

"And now you think otherwise?" he asked.

"No, it's nothing like that. Our lives have always been about destiny and fate. Which we've tempted often. I'm beginning to wonder if it's fighting back."

Geralt chuckled softly. "I didn't believe in destiny until I met Ciri, first in Brokilon, then at that trader's house that took her in as a war orphan."

"Neither did I until I met you. Until you quite literally intertwined our fates and provided me with our family."

Dressed, Yennefer moved toward the tub again and slid a hand into his hair, combing it away from his face, leaning down to press a kiss to his neck.

"I've to speak to Dandelion and then I'm headed off for the night to get some sleep. If something comes up, don't hesitate to send me a message, otherwise I'll check in in the morning to see if the Lodge has made any progress on their search."

Geralt emitted a hem. "Leaving again? You could stay. That bed isn't the smallest." He got up and reached for the towel.

"You make it sound as if I'm trying to run away." Even that presented hope. Yennefer knew sex was a superficial factor for both of them on occasion and that it was enjoyable in most instances but she wasn't expecting it to become domestic.

Not while he didn't know her.

She pressed a hand to her clothed stomach, murmuring a spell that disintegrated the fabric and returned them to the abandoned chair. Yennefer gifted him a smirk, cast a glance at her reflection in the nearest mirror to make sure her usual mask was still in place and hadn't been smudged and then slid beneath the covers waiting on him to join her.

Geralt dried himself off, tossed the towel on the chair and went to bed wearing a content sneer. She looked perfect without her clothes on, but there was suddenly another thought - of a white unicorn. It puzzled him momentarily, making him stare at her as if trying to imagine her in another scene. It didn't come easy, and Geralt discarded the strange thought by claiming another kiss from the vixen.

The look of brief confusion and fascination didn't go unnoticed, making Yennefer involuntarily attempt to probe his mind, to gauge what he was thinking, only he'd already started moving toward her, cutting off the thought and need.

She pressed her mouth to his, wrapped her arms around him and easily fell into him again, content with making use of his body until they were both spent and had eventually succumbed to slumber.