A / N - i'm getting quite into this, although I've noticed the Iorveth tag isn't too popular on here. those few who are reading please enjoy nevertheless! i have tried/ i am trying to incorporate actual quests and happenings from the game so it doesnt seem like this story is just a headcanon, but as my own character, Lorella, doesnt actually exist within the game, it's something i am trying to work with. thanks for reading, please review!

Chapter Two

He hadn't meant to stay the night, it wasn't a situation he was comfortable with – and yet, when the elf rose the next morning, he felt no regret, only contentment. He was naked under the blankets of the bed and turned his head slightly to survey his sleeping lover. Lorella was turned away from him, the duvet only covering below her waist, showing her bare back. Warm sun rays poked between the buildings in the town square and illuminated her pale skin, swathing her in a golden glow. She looked ethereal, heavenly, somehow. Iorveth enjoyed this image of perfection for a time until she began to stir.

She turned and opened a bleary eye. "Good morning," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning to you as well," mused the elf. Without realising what he was doing, he held out an arm and invited her over into his personal space. She rested her head upon his chest, smelling the somewhat comforting aroma of man, sex and sweat. His heart beat steadily, a soothing noise as her breathing kept in time with his. Iorveth was not one to 'cuddle' as it was a concept he was unfamiliar with. It was something people – or couples – did to show their love for one another. He rather thought that the reason why he had no experienced such close, gentle contact was because he had not held a care in his heart for anyone – until now.

They remained in a close position for some time, unspeaking, the elf's fingers toying with Lorella's hair whilst her hand drew circles on his chest. She traced his scars: some were thin and short, others broad and a shiny white from deep wounds.

"I think," said Iorveth after some time listening to the bustle outside in the square and docks, "that it would be rather difficult escaping this room unseen."

"So stay here where we can fuck all day," Lorella replied simply with a smirk.

"If only I were allowed such luxuries. I think that if the town caught wind of the scoia'tael leader having romantic relations with a human it would cause quite a stir, don't you?" he asked, though making no effort to dislodge her and dress. On the contrary, the idea of remaining in bed with this beautiful woman for the majority of the day was incredibly appealing.

"Everyone is shit scared of you," she pointed out, then added sarcastically, "It might just be because you're a ruthless killer."

"That's what people say about me is it?" he said with the faintest trace of cockiness.

Lorella pushed him playfully. "They say a lot worse, believe me."

"Ah, but you don't believe a word of it."

"I did to begin with," she admitted. "Though now I know different; you're actually soft under that tough I-hate-everyone-and-everything demeanour."

"I am not," he snapped, to which she laughed.

"Yes, you are, and there's no shame in that." She sat up and raised her arms to stretch, lifting her bare breasts as she did so. Iorveth watched how the curls of chocolate-coloured hair covered her dusty pink nipples and cascaded down her back. He noted the flawless skin, not marked with scars as he was. She stopped mid-yawn when she caught him looking.

"Enjoying the view?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"More than you know," he said with a rare, brief smile. His cock had grown hard after watching her, causing a more-than-obvious mound under the bed covers. He flexed his length so that it moved and watched as her eyes raked over him. She leaned over to him so that her nipples grazed his chest. Her breath tickled his pointed ear and he felt his shaft stiffen more – if that were even possible.

"You're a tease," she purred, cupping his face in her hand. Suddenly, she let go and leapt off the bed, leaving Iorveth bewildered and very much sexually deprived. He watched as she wrapped a robe around herself, hiding her perfect body from his eyes. She perched herself on the edge of the bed and fiddled with the blankets uneasily. "You know Margot will be expecting me this evening."

Iorveth shot her a sharp look. "So don't go."

"You don't know what she's like," Lorella groaned, carding her fingers through her long hair exasperatedly. Little did she know that Iorveth did indeed know the whore much better than his love thought. "She will come knocking for me and make a scene…"

The elf watched as Lorella's eyebrows knitted together with worry. Surely he could speak to Margot? She was a spy for the scoia'tael – perhaps he could trust her with this? No. His gut feeling that telling a popular blabber-mouth prostitute his inner most feelings for another human woman was out of the question. He almost snorted at the absurdity of it all. But he knew Margot, and she did not give up easily. He didn't have many options, although allowing Lorella to gallivant off with the witcher was almost too much to bear.

Lorella caught the look on Iorveth's face. "I won't go through with it, I'll just go and speak to her later."

"Good luck with that," replied the elf, though not unkindly. He flashed her a rare, half smile before sitting up in bed. "I have to leave, otherwise I will be quite tempted to remain here and fuck you all day." He reached out an arm and slid it under her robe where he tweaked one of her nipples. Her sharp gasp brought a more prominent smirk to his face.

"How will you get away unseen?" she asked him curiously. Flotsam's market was in full swing and the sun was high in the sky so it was probably early afternoon.

"I have my ways," Iorveth replied, raising an eyebrow at her. He dressed rather quickly and hoisted his bow and quiver of arrows on his back. Lorella watched him with rapt attention, taking in the way his leather trousers stretched gloriously across his backside.

"Until later," he whispered, kissing her softly on the forehead. In the blink of an eye, he slipped out the window and out of sight. Lorella watched him go, her forehead burning from where he had kissed her.

Lorella enjoyed her afternoon shift somewhat that day, cooking a mysterious meaty stew over the stove in the inn's kitchen. The memory of her encounter with Iorveth lingered in her mind, and often she caught herself smirking smugly when she thought about him naked. Dyson yelled at her less than usual, and allowed her to leave fifteen minutes early. Pleased by this, but with nothing in particular to do, she hung her apron up and turned to leave. However, she was accosted by a familiar woman as soon as she stepped out of the kitchen.

Margot. She was a fool to think that she would have been left alone, and realised that she should've gone to visit the woman sooner.

"There you are, you little minx," said the prostitute, kissing Lorella on both cheeks. Margot smelled of face powder and floral perfume. "I thought you had forgotten our arrangement… but by the Gods, you need cleaning up!" She let out a tinkling laugh and ignored Lorella's insistent stammers.

"I will be taking this one of your hands for the remainder of the evening," said Margot to Dyson, the latter voicing no complaints and replied with only a lustful, greedy leer.

"I – I don't think I should be leaving," said Lorella as she was marched to the brothel. "Dyson gets cranky when I'm away for too long –"

"Nonsense," insisted Margot, quashing the excuse flat. "I can assure you that this will be a lot more worthy of your time!"

Lorella visibly deflated as she was led into the brothel's private bathroom. It sparkled with white granite, a magnificent bathtub in the middle. Candles set around the surfaces illuminated the sparkling cleanliness of the bathroom, of which she was deeply surprised at.

"Come." Without preamble, Margot began untying the young woman's grubby work dress; it was a dull fern green stained with soup and goodness knows what else. Lorella resisted, but Margot was firm. Resigned to the knowledge of the events that were about to unfold, Lorella let her get to work. Suddenly, she had a thought. Though she had told Iorveth she would not go through with this, she could play along, and then escape when left alone with the witcher… Yes, she thought slyly, feeling marginally more cheerful. She would distract him somehow, then make a quick getaway out of one of the windows. That way, everyone was happy. Well, apart from Margot and Geralt of course, but who cared about them? Their displeasure wouldn't be half as bad as Iorveth's wrath he found out, and Lorella could make no mistake about that. The elf always seemed to know what was going on, and especially if he was working with Geralt, he would know. She would rather not have her head, or anyone else's head, on a spike for the whole town to see.

Margot had run a hot bath, then turned to examine Lorella's naked body. The young woman had been too carried away with her own thoughts and escape plans, she entirely forgot to feel embarrassed. She covered her body with her arms, to which Margot pulled them away gently. Lorella felt it would make her life a lot easier if she remained compliant.

"Stay there, we need to groom you." She nodded towards to small tuft of pubic hair. Lorella blushed furiously, even more so as Margot set to work and stood rigidly as she felt the cool metal of a sharp blade move over her. The prostitute was surprisingly gentle, and had finished in a matter of minutes. Lorella looked down and felt pleasantly surprise when she saw her smooth skin.

"Bathe," Margot told her softly, "and try to hurry, dear, Geralt won't wait for you forever. And put those clothes on after," she added, nodding to a corset, skirt and suspenders.

"He will have to wait," Lorella grumbled as she lowered herself into the hot, soapy water. Steam whirled into the air around her and she relished the heat on her aching joints, wishing that there was such a magnificent bathroom at the inn. Instead, she usually had to make do with a tin tub. It served its purpose well but was nothing on this sort of luxury. Lorella washed herself thoroughly and remained in the water for as long as she dared and until her skin had taken on a prune-like quality. With a sigh, and knowing full well that Margot would constantly hound her, she lifted herself out of the bathtub and began to dry herself off. A knock sounded at the door, making her jump.

"Hurry!" rang Margot's voice. Her footsteps faded away and Lorella's heartbeat turned back to normal.

The clothes set out for her fit her surprisingly well. Despite feeling desperately exposed, she looked good, and fleetingly thought about what Iorveth would think if he could see her now. Rip them off, probably. To make herself more decent, she wrapped a silk robe around her body.

Lorella twisted her long, slightly damp, chestnut hair into an elegant bun, using whatever pins she could find scattered about the bathroom left from the other working girls. She had barely begun to make her way upstairs before Margot was on her again; like a rash that would not go away. Then again, she had probably had a fair few. Smiling, she allowed herself to be led upstairs to the room where she had met the witcher last time. He was sat in the same chair again, gazing pensively out of the window.

Margot cleared her throat and he looked round. "You remember Lorella."

"I do," the witcher replied simply, standing.

"Have fun," whispered Margot excitedly into Lorella's ear, then chuckled mischievously before vanishing, leaving them to it.

Lorella felt suddenly self-conscious and wrapped the silk material firmly around herself. She avoided the witcher's gaze as he advanced slowly, gulping when he halted before her. Forcing herself to look into those mysterious yellow eyes, she wondered of his intentions, expecting him to be harsh and forceful. On the contrary, he stroked her peachy cheek softly with calloused hands, and she knew that she couldn't go through with this.

"I can't –" she began, but Geralt hushed her.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered and she couldn't help but believe his promise.

"It's not that, I…" she trailed off as he moved her arms away from her torso, which she had been gripping protectively. Steadily, he pulled at the sash on the robe so that it fell from her shoulders in waves and landed silently into a pool at her dainty feet. He hissed slightly when he surveyed her magnificent body, running his eyes over her impressive cleavage, her narrow waist…

Lorella found herself stunned into silence as Geralt lowered his head towards hers, soft, rose-colour lips parted slightly.

She wasn't in her room.

Iorveth cursed under his breath as he returned to the inn and discover Lorella's bed to be empty. That meant only one thing, and woe betide anyone if it transpired to be what he thought.

Geralt kissed gently, and although Lorella did not resist, she didn't reciprocate either. Guilt burned up inside her as she thought of Iorveth and her promise to him. Only when the witcher stroked the soft skin of her inner thigh did she gasp and pull away.

"No, please, I can't do this," she stammered.

Geralt looked on, sympathetic. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off right away by an angry hiss.

"I knew it."

Iorveth strolled out of the shadows, his face wearing an ugly look of fury. He didn't even look at Lorella. His eyes were for the witcher, and him alone.

"Get away from her, mutant."

"This a whorehouse, elf, I am entitled to the pleasures it offers," Geralt replied, barely batting an eyelid as the scoia'tael leader advanced towards him. "She is as good as anyone's."

Rage clawed up inside Iorveth at these words. "She is not just anyone's," he spat, "she is mine."

Blank shock registered on the witcher's face only for a split second. Silence fell upon the two men, but their animosity was almost stifling in the small room. Lorella had snatched the robe from the floor and wrapped it around herself, backing up against the wall as her heart pounded in her chest.

"I did not realise," Geralt said shortly after some time. He glanced back at Lorella, though didn't appear angry. He spoke his words kindly to her. "You should have said."

"I did try," she squeaked, though she never intended to give him the legitimate reason why she could not have sex with him. Her fear at Iorveth's reaction should she have told the witcher of their situation would have been a sight to behold.

"You will tell Margot I paid you a visit, and took her with me," said the elf in a dangerous tone, nodding towards the cowering human. "And tell Margot that I will be dropping in to see her again."

"Understood," replied Geralt with a nod, completely unperturbed at what had just occurred. "Apologies."

Iorveth returned the nod curtly before striding towards Lorella. Fear flicked over her face as he picked her up effortlessly – she was short for a human, and he tall for an elf. He flopped her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before escaping back out towards the window. Lorella caught the witcher's gaze and gave him a sad wave before she was dragged outside into the darkness.

"You promised me," Iorveth snarled when the pair were in the safety of the inn once more. It had proven more difficult to transport the dh'oine without being seen, but he could not and did not desire for her to be left in the whorehouse any longer.

"I didn't have a choice," Lorella told him weakly as she watched the elf pace the room like a caged animal. She hurriedly lit some candles and proceeded to watch his movements. "Margot practically dragged me there, I was going to escape when I had the chance, I promise…"

"Save your promises and lies," the elf spat. "You dh'oine are all the same."

She reeled as if she had been slapped. Hot tears pricked the back of her eyes but refused to let them fall. She watched as regret passed over Iorveth's face. His expression softened, and he tried to take her in his arms. She pushed him away and crossed her arms adamantly, though he wouldn't give up. He wrapped his arms around her rigid body, nuzzling her hair. She smelled more glorious than he ever remembered.

"I hold a deep affection for you," he murmured in her ear. "I couldn't bear the thought of you with someone else; especially not the witcher with whom I have to collaborate with. Forgive me."

The last two words melted her heart and she visibly relaxed. Nodding against his chest, she pulled away from him and took of the robe, which she flung into a corner. Next, she began to tease at the corset strings, to which Iorveth stopped her. Their gaze met, and she saw the hunger in his face.

"Leave those on for a time," he told her softly, his voice laced with desire. "I wish for you to show them off for me, then take them off nice and slow."

"Okay," she agreed.

Iorveth took a seat on the bed and raked his eyes up and down her body, his erection pressing uncomfortably against the leather of his trousers. He watched her unlace the corset, her huge breasts springing free, her nipples already hard. A gasp hitched in his throat as she removed the rest of the sparse clothing, the stockings curling like snakes on the floor. The elf fixed his eyes on her shaven pussy and he moistened his lips, aching for her sex to grind on his face, his cock.

Suddenly, he grabbed Lorella by the buttocks, taking her completely by surprise. They toppled into the bed, her moistness leaving a small patch on his trousers. Rubbing her, he brought his mouth close to her hear.

"You fuck me, and only me, is that understood?" he whispered, bucking his hips to meet her.

"Yes sir," she breathed back, happy that he was no longer angry and things were back to normal.

For a time.