Conjunction

Chapter 21 - Midwinter

Part 1

The dream was a variation on the same sweet torture that had been visiting him for the past two weeks on the nights they spent together.

They're in the training yard in the heat of summer, the air thick and cloying, with heavy summer thunderclouds threatening from above. Their bodies are sweat soaked and dusty as they grapple with each other in the dust. He's shirtless and she wears only a sleeveless cotton tunic and a pair of lightweight trousers. They're both barefoot. Beads of sweat glisten on the lightly tanned skin of her chest above the low, unlaced collar of her shirt. He revels in her reaction when she bests him, pinning him and then straddling him, raising her arms to the sky and emitting a loud cry of triumph. As if in answer, the sky above opens up and releases a sudden deluge upon them, soaking them thoroughly and turning the dusty earth around them into dark mud. She sits atop him, back arched and head craned up to the heavens, drinking in the cool water as it washes over her, plastering her sheer tunic to her body. Her chest heaves as she catches her breath and her pink-tipped breasts are visible in stark relief as the fabric covering them becomes nearly transparent from the heavy raindrops soaking through. He sits up and embraces her, capturing her rain-moistened lips in his hungrily and pulling her back down atop him. He pushes her wet trousers down past her hips and she kicks them off and laughs a throaty laugh as he grips her bare, rainslick backside solidly in both hands. She sits up again and rips open his trousers, releasing his engorged sex. She strokes him once, twice, his rain slickened flesh throbbing beneath her touch. She raises her hips and teases his tip at her center, provoking a desperate moan from him before she takes him into her, the heat of her depths a shocking contrast to the cool water coating his skin.

The dream seemed to fade at that point, as it always did just before he awakened. He could feel his erection straining at his breeches and a light sheen of sweat covered his skin. She was always so warm to sleep next to and he thought that was the reason he dreamed of summer when they were together. One arm still embraced her and his hand had strayed to her breast in the night and was now gripping it gently through the lightweight nightshirt she'd begun wearing in deference to him.

He could tell she still slept, her breathing slow and even. He tried desperately to regulate his own breathing enough to focus until he could will himself into some semblance of control again before she awakened. The feel of the soft, pliant flesh of her breast beneath his hand didn't help, but he didn't dare move for fear of disturbing her sleep. And he was acutely aware of her bottom pressed against his groin. It was difficult to push the desire aside, but it was a small price to pay to be able to wake up beside her, and if past mornings were any indication it wasn't an insurmountable endeavor... just not very easy.

There was a loud crack of thunder outside and he could hear rain beating violently against the panes of the windows that circled her tower room. Her breathing changed almost imperceptibly as she began to awaken. Her body shifted slightly and her bottom inadvertently rubbed against him, sending a small jolt of pleasure through him. His grip on her tightened and he tilted his head down, his lips grazing her ear.

He whispered roughly, "Don't. Move."

She grew utterly still, painfully aware of his hand on her breast and his hard length pressed against her bottom. A low heat began to ignite between her thighs and she felt his breath hot on the back of her neck.

"Good morning to you, too," she said with a hint of humor in her voice, then she lay silent, listening to his regulated breathing. After several moments he let out a heavy sigh and she felt his grip loosen on her as he pulled away. She sighed softly with regret at the small distance between them, and turned over to face him.

He lay looking at her, propped up on one elbow, the blankets pushed down to his hips. His hair was mussed from sleep and he had crease marks from his pillow on one cheek. She smiled softly and reached up a hand to gently trace the small indentations.

Her expression changed to subtle concern and she said, "It's hard for you to stay with me, isn't it?"

He studied her for a moment and then shook his head. "If I didn't stay your dreams would return, and I would just end up here anyway."

"They're just dreams, Geralt. They're not going to kill me."

He focused on her thoughtfully for a few seconds and said, "They're dreams we share. That tells me they ought to be taken seriously. And you can't even remember them when you do have them. Solona, it's an issue that needs to be resolved. I can't tell you how because I don't know, but one thing I'm certain of is that the prophecy depends on it. If I could help you with it, I would."

Her expression grew serious. She pursed her lips for a second and asked, "How are you so sure it has anything to do with the prophecy?"

"If you remembered the dream you would know," he said.

She sighed and said, "As much as I hate to suggest it, do you think that maybe sleeping together is counterproductive? Maybe you need to let me have the dream alone for a change."

"Sleeping together was your idea," he said to her with a smirk.

"I know. And I like waking up next to you." Under her breath she said, "Even though the prince has other ideas most mornings."

Not missing a beat, Geralt replied suggestively, "He just misses the princess. And I can tell she misses him, too." She felt a small pulse throb between her legs at his suggestion and watched him warily as he leaned closer to her and inhaled deeply through his nose.

He smiled at her wolfishly, "Mhmm... clearly I'm not the only one dealing with such an issue first thing in the morning. It's just easier for you to hide it."

She eyed the blankets that covered his hips, concealing his reawakened arousal. It was a vicious cycle, she realized. Their desire seemed to be magnified tenfold when it was apparent the other person was even remotely turned on.

She groaned and rolled her eyes at him, trying hard to ignore her own arousal. "I'm serious, Geralt. Maybe we should sleep apart for awhile... and not just because of the dream. But when I do have the dream? Maybe you should let it play out instead of coming to my rescue every time."

He seemed entranced as he continued to breathe deeply through his nose. She wasn't sure he'd heard her at first, then he nodded and focused on her again, his voice thick and distracted. "You're probably right."

"I'm sensing a 'but'..."

He leaned towards her, his eyelids drifting halfway closed. Just before his lips met hers she heard him say in a husky voice, "But... before I go, I want one last taste."

Her heart pounded as he gripped her jaw in one large hand and his mouth found hers, his tongue insistent as he plunged it between her lips. His hand trailed down her side and over her hip, pulling the blankets down and tossing them off her, exposing her bare thighs and the graceful swell of her hip covered only by a narrow band of snug white fabric.

His hand slid back up her bare thigh to the top of her hip as they kissed. He teased his fingertips along the waistband of her smallclothes, tracing the edge of the garment across her hip and around to the small of her back. His hand felt hot against her flesh as he slid it down over one full cheek and squeezed gently, then trailed his fingers lower, seeking out the bottom hem of the fabric just above the crease where her firm buttock met the top of her inner thigh. He slid his fingertips underneath the fabric and felt the soft fringe of ruff, and just beyond that the slick warmth of her core.

"Geralt," she breathed against his mouth when he pulled back from the kiss with heat in his eyes. She whispered breathlessly, "I don't think this is a good idea."

He slipped his fingers along her moist flesh beneath the strip of fabric that covered her center, teasing gently. He whispered in her ear in a low growl, "Are you saying you want me to stop?"

She answered with a soft moan and gripped the back of his neck in her hand, pulling his mouth back to hers. While their tongues danced, he slid his hand back over her hip and pushed her flat on the bed. He broke away from their kiss and trailed his lips across her jaw and down her throat, his hand making its way under her nightshirt and up to her breasts, teasing their tips until she moaned again. He pushed the thin garment up and kissed her navel gently before making his way lower, moving down her body and grasping the waist of her smallclothes as he went, dragging them down over her hips and thighs, slowly pulling them off past her feet. He slid his hands back up the insides of her legs, urging them apart, then descended on her as his hands gripped the backs of her thighs and pushed them up, giving him access to all of her. She let out a loud gasp as his tongue plunged deep inside her and then out again, seeking out the small nub of engorged flesh that he knew would send her into throes of ecstasy.

He had wanted to take his time, but a powerful surge of desire welled up in him when her taste and the tantalizing feel of her velvety, wet flesh hit his tongue, sending a series of jolts straight to his groin. The throbbing between his thighs became almost painful, and he realized belatedly that he'd just made a dangerous mistake as his desire began to overwhelm him. He gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh in a desperate effort to maintain his focus, his tongue working in the familiar pattern he remembered would send her over the edge. Her moans became breathless cries that he recognized as his name being repeated over and over, finally punctuated with a single loud, husky cry. He could feel her flesh quivering under his mouth and her thighs were shaking on either side of his head when he finally drew back from her.

He sat back before her, resting on his heels and trying to regain his bearings. He felt dizzy from the reaction his body was having to her. He closed his eyes and dug his fingers into his thighs, attempting to slow his breathing back down to a normal level. But he could still smell her desire and felt as though he were drowning in it. He emitted a low, guttural moan, frustrated at his inability to push the desire aside like he had on previous occasions.

He felt a soft touch on his bare arm and opened his eyes, struggling to focus. She knelt before him on the bed, her flushed face drawn with concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He just twitched his head distractedly, still unable to articulate the conflicting feelings that had control of him. His mind was deadlocked between needing to push her back on the bed and bury himself inside her and needing to put as much distance between them as possible. He felt her fingertips brush against his bare, muscular stomach and heard her say in a low, suggestive voice, "You know... I could return the favor..."

He abruptly grabbed her hands tightly in his and clenched his teeth.

"No!"

He swallowed involuntarily and forced himself to focus on her face. With as much control as he could muster, he gripped her head in both hands, kissed her fiercely, and left the room in a blur.

ooOoo

After quickly dressing and throwing on his boots in his own room, Geralt ran down the stairs and out the front door of the fortress into the icy winter rain pouring down. He took several strides along one side of the castle and ran up a flight of stairs onto the battlements overlooking the valley below. He braced himself against the wet stone and raised his head to the sky, letting out a loud cry of agonized frustration, then just stood there letting the cold rain wash over him.

His mind was a chaotic knot of conflicting emotions made even more complicated by the seemingly instinctual reaction his body had to her. He had been able to manage it for her sake for the past two weeks, and they had spent several nights together, but until this morning neither of them had given into the desire. He found it ironic because his own slumber was easier in her bed for some reason... at least until the early hours of dawn when the tortuous dreams would come and he would inevitably awaken bound up with desire for her. At least her sleep hadn't been disturbed by her usual dream, which had been some comfort to him.

But this morning... faced with the prospect of being deprived of her warm body next to his each night, he'd made a poor decision. He'd had no idea what the consequences would be when he gave in, thinking only that he wanted to pleasure her and what harm could it do? But it had ultimately taken all his control not to take her bodily while she lay there open to him. He felt heat rising in him in spite of the icy rain that cascaded over his body, soaking through the thin shirt he wore. He pushed the thoughts aside with fierce determination and attempted to focus his mind on something else. Anything else. Eventually the cold rain soaking into him caused him to grow numb and he welcomed the lack of feeling with an odd relief.

It seemed like hours passed as he stood there in the chill rain, watching a thick mist gradually blanket the river valley below the castle. He was just beginning to shiver when he sensed a figure approaching him and felt a heavy oiled leather cloak being thrown about his shoulders and a hood pulled onto his head to protect him from the cold rain. He glanced to the side to see Eskel's large, cloaked figure standing silently beside him, gazing out over the river valley below them.

The other man just stood quietly for a time. Finally Geralt broke the silence, saying, "I never thought I would curse our condition, brother, but sometimes I fear I won't make it to Midsummer without either giving in or going mad... and giving in isn't an option."

Eskel turned to look at him, the scarred side of his face obscured in the shadows of his hood as the rain fell over him. "It's really that bad for you?" he asked in his deep, resonant voice.

Geralt clenched his fists and released them, then turned to his friend, "She's only halfway through the changes. Every week it gets more difficult... every step closer she gets to being a full-fledged Witcher. I've been able to meditate to maintain the focus I need to restrain myself, but this morning... she smelled so good, and I just wanted..." his voice trailed off and he sighed with a small shake of his head. "I was stupid."

He continued in a desperate tone, "I never would have believed it would be so difficult to manage my desire for one woman, Eskel. And I never believed I would ever love anyone more than Yennefer. But here she is... this beautiful young creature who makes me laugh, makes me think... she challenges me every step of the way. It infuriates me to no end but I wouldn't change a thing about her. I love her so much it hurts sometimes."

The larger man laughed softly, "It is a cruel joke that we can go our entire lives believing we're infertile. Then just when you realize she's the one you truly want, the knowledge comes with the caveat that you can't touch her without risking everything."

Geralt nodded with a sigh. "She was already like us to begin with... cursed with an overactive appetite. I fear the changes have magnified her desires as much as my own. I have to find a way to manage this... hunger. Nothing I've experienced could have prepared me for her."

He grew quiet and they stood together in the steady rain for some time before Geralt spoke again.

"When is Triss due to arrive?" he asked.

Eskel smiled and said, "She already has. Late last night sometime. All I know is I woke up with her in my bed this morning. It was a pleasant surprise."

"Good... maybe Triss will distract her long enough for me to regain some semblance of sanity." Geralt laughed ruefully.

Eskel nodded and said, "I'll mention it to her."

"Do you love her?" Geralt asked out of the blue a moment later.

Eskel turned to study his friend for a moment before replying huskily, "More than I can convey in words, Wolf."

Geralt gave his friend a nod and said, "Good. If you had said anything different I might have had to hurt you. But if you love her as you say, why didn't you stay with her in Vizima? Why even come to Kaer Morhen for the winter?"

Eskel turned his gaze to the flooded river valley below them and sighed. "You know Triss. She keeps a high profile as advisor to the young queen. I would just get in her way and would make things difficult for her if I stayed. Besides, the distance makes our time together all that much sweeter. And Kaer Morhen is still home to me. Plus, I think she likes coming here for some strange reason."

Geralt believed he could understand, but he and Solona had barely spent a day apart since they had met three months earlier. Had it really only been three months? It seemed like a lifetime already and he couldn't begin to imagine what kind of desolate ruin his world would be without her.

After a pause, Geralt asked tentatively, "Eskel... if the two of you were living in the same castle and you couldn't touch her, how would it affect you?"

Without hesitation, Eskel turned to face him and said, "It would drive me mad, brother."

ooOoo

Something strange was in the air, but Bekim couldn't put his finger on exactly what was wrong. Nobody had told him things were different today, so he made an effort to go along as though it were the same routine as all the other days in the month since he had begun living here and training to be a Witcher.

But clearly everyone in the castle was out of sorts this morning and there were conflicting signs as to whether it was good or bad. The first clear indication was Vesemir's tense reaction to the noises echoing down from the tower when Bekim had come in from feeding the animals. He had stopped to listen while he stirred the pot of porridge over the fire and had to hastily turn away from the old man, his bright flush not the only physical reaction he had to the sudden realization that he was hearing Solona's cries of ecstasy... no doubt caused by Geralt. But the last thing he had expected was to see Geralt storming down from the tower with a look of veiled panic on his face and running out into the thunderstorm without so much as a raincloak.

Then there was Lambert entering the hall with a sour expression, muttering something about noise that Bekim didn't completely catch. Vesemir just snorted at the younger man and cast a concerned glance at the front door. Solona had just seemed tense and worried when she finally appeared a few moments later.

Eskel's bearing when he entered was what had thrown him. The large Witcher seemed oddly placid and was smiling, which was at odds with everyone else's mood. But it changed abruptly when Vesemir beckoned to him and whispered something in his ear. Eskel glanced at the front door and nodded before preparing two servings of breakfast and carrying them back upstairs.

Some things started making more sense about an hour later when Eskel returned to the first floor wearing his raincloak with another slung over his arm. He was followed closely by a pretty redheaded woman who greeted Vesemir and Solona with warm embraces. Bekim stood watching her, dumbstruck for a moment. Eskel had spoken of the woman often in the past two weeks and Bekim had known she was intending to spend Midwinter with them. So that's Triss... he thought, and wondered why in the world he was so surprised.

He was still confused about how Witcher relationships worked. He'd heard that they were indiscriminate with sex and liked to pick random virgins from villages to sate their desires with. He'd also heard they preferred whores to normal women and that they were infertile so that was why they didn't bother holding their insatiable sexual appetites in check. But if his own experience was any indication, both stories were far from the truth. So far two of the Witchers he'd come to know were clearly devoted to two of the most beautiful women he'd seen in his entire life, and the feeling was obviously mutual.

After hearing Geralt and Solona's story he knew Witcher infertility was a lie, and sounded like a cruel trick nature had played on the two of them. He couldn't help but think if Solona were his he would have a hard time staying away from her, and it suddenly dawned on him what might have prompted Geralt's strange behavior this morning. For once, Bekim didn't envy the older man.

But the strangeness continued after Triss broke away from her hug with Solona. Bekim saw her expression grow rigid briefly as she looked across the room. When he turned to follow the direction of her gaze, he saw Lambert escaping out the door back to the second floor without even giving her so much as a 'good morning'.

ooOoo

Solona entered the armory after breakfast and greeted Lambert with a small distracted smile.

The young Witcher glanced at her from where he stood at the weapon rack, idly inspecting the state of the practice blades that rested there.

"You seem distracted this morning, Sol. Anything you need to talk about before we add deadly weapons to the mix?"

She snorted at him and said, "I wasn't the one escaping when a certain redhead entered the room... anything you want to talk about, Lambert?"

He shrugged evasively. "Triss and I just don't get along. I find it's easier if we're not around each other for too long."

Solona nodded at him skeptically. "I always thought Witchers had stronger wills than that. To let such a little thing get to you..." Her expression grew pensive for a second before she continued. "I suppose Witchers aren't as resilient as they tend to let on."

He gave her a rueful smile, "No... we are still mostly human in spite of what our genetics might tell you. You're thinking about Geralt, aren't you? Did something happen that you want to share?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Not particularly, but thanks for asking."

Lambert gazed at her steadily, seeming to see through her aloofness. The young Witcher had become an unexpected friend to her over the past two weeks and she'd found it strangely easy to share her thoughts and feelings with him during training. He had the same irreverent sense of humor as she had and they would laugh together at the most inappropriate things, leaving the other members of the household confused. She thought it might have something to do with his apparent youth, even though she learned that he was nearly 50 years older than she was in spite of how young he appeared.

She finally gave in. "Okay, fine. Something happened this morning and I don't regret it in the least, but I think Geralt does. But it probably complicated our situation a little. And knowing him, he'll most likely avoid me completely for a month before he'll actually talk to me again. And I hate it."

He gave her a look of amused concern and asked, "What exactly did you do? Geralt's a pretty level-headed guy... I can't imagine it would have been that big a deal..."

She sighed heavily, "It wasn't something I did. You know about our issue. And whether or not you believed the story, it's true. I... being near him…" She sighed with exasperation again.

After a pause she finally gathered herself and continued, "I have bad dreams if he's not next to me at night. But when he does sleep with me, he always wakes up in such a state... hmmm."

Lambert raised one eyebrow at her expression. "And...?"

"And... well... so do I," she stated quietly. "It's hard being that close to him and not being able to..." she sighed again.

"Not being able to consummate your relationship?" Lambert offered.

"Exactly!" she said with vehemence. "And this morning... I suggested it might be easier if we stopped spending the night together."

Lambert shrugged at her as though that point were obvious.

"But he was very insistent about having one last... taste..." Lambert watched with a raised eyebrow as Solona's face grew flushed at her recollection of earlier events.

"And...? Don't leave me hanging, Sol! You're just getting to the good part." He grinned at her mischievously.

She sighed in exasperation. "I'm leaving that part out... it was amazing, as always. But afterward he seemed like he was in a trance. It was … strange. But I thought if I offered to return the favor..." she sighed again and said, "And then he just left! He kissed me... then ran."

Lambert laughed out loud and said, "And now he's having a crisis because your pretty mouth would have been just a tease for what he really wanted. You've destroyed the poor man, Sol."

She stared at him, her mouth agape, and said, "But... it wasn't my fault! He started it! I didn't even offer until after he'd already... and it's not as if I could say no to that. He's very, very good at it, you know."

Lambert broke into unrestrained laughter at her internal struggle. "That explains the noise I woke up to, at least. I had no idea you were so enthusiastic. You know sound carries quite well down that tower, don't you?"

She stared at him with a shocked expression and then punched him hard on the shoulder in a frustrated attempt to knock the silly grin off his face.

He held up a hand to ward her off, saying, "Sol, really. For Witchers, that kind of thing is only foreplay. Geralt should have known better, but under the circumstances I'm not surprised he did it. Speaking from experience, we need more a more in-depth experience to be satisfied. And if Geralt's explanation of the prophecy is true, he needs it even more... from you, anyway. It makes me wonder lately if we weren't actually meant to reproduce. The desire is almost instinctual, like we have a genetic imperative to impregnate women. But Geralt's 'instincts' only pertain to you."

She gave him a dejected look and said, "So you're saying if we can't fuck, we shouldn't even touch each other?"

"No, clearly it's fine as long as it's controlled. I've seen the two of you over the past two weeks and neither of you has exactly been holding back with your affections. None of that led to this. The only thing that Geralt did wrong was taking matters into his own hands this morning. He's the one who crossed the line. Don't blame yourself, Sol."

"Shit," she cursed softly just as Bekim entered the room. The boy raised his eyebrows at her curiously and she waved her hand at him dismissively. They'd been training together with Lambert for the past two weeks, so Bekim was used to her casual cursing by now and was also privy to most of the uncouth jokes she and Lambert shared. They were probably a terrible influence on him, but there hadn't seemed to be any adverse effects so far, and he'd finally seemed to relax and open up around her on occasion.

With both of his students present, Lambert's demeanor abruptly turned serious. If there was one thing Solona could admire about the young Witcher it was that he didn't waste time during training.

ooOoo

She didn't see Geralt at all for the rest of the day, but could sense him lurking about the castle. Otherwise the tension seemed to have subsided for the most part, especially with the arrival of Triss. Eskel seemed transformed by the woman's presence, and was clearly unable to stop smiling, even when Triss left the room. There was an air of excitement that her arrival had brought with it. Midwinter's Day was the following day and it surprised Solona how much the general mood in the castle changed in anticipation.

Even Vesemir shed his normally stodgy attitude, and when there was finally a brief respite from the rain he dragged everyone out to gather greenery. Geralt's absence was acutely felt as they hiked through the woods to a large grove of evergreens nearby and began hunting for likely victims for decorating the main hall of the castle. They returned several hours later, overladen with bundles of aromatic boughs, with Eskel and Lambert taking turns dragging a huge fir tree behind them. Lusa was ecstatic when the group started singing as they made the trek, and the group returned to the castle with everyone in a rambunctious and spirited mood.

Geralt had apparently been busy while they were gone. The fires were well stoked and the smells of roasting meat and baking bread washed over them when they entered the main hall. But he was conspicuously absent now and Solona was growing increasingly frustrated. She finally decided to go find him herself if he wouldn't come to her to talk about their morning.

After a brief search, she finally found him in Lambert's room, seated on a chair and methodically cleaning and oiling his gear. He tensed and sat staring at the floor for a moment when she entered the room through the open doorway. She could see him take a deep breath and let it out slowly before he tilted his head up to look at her.

"You can't avoid me forever, you know," she said in a gentle voice, gazing at him intently.

Geralt suddenly felt intoxicated by her presence. The mere sound of her voice had caused an involuntary shiver to cascade down his spine and his sex became alive in response until he took a deep breath and willed himself back into control. He looked away from her abruptly, fixing his gaze on the narrow window nearby.

"I know," he said huskily, his voice tense and strained. "I just... need to limit my time around you. You have no idea how close I came this morning to..." He sighed and glanced at her again. "You know we can't risk it, Sol. Not until the ritual."

"Geralt," she began in a pleading voice but halted when she glanced around the room and recognized that these were all his things in here, not Lambert's. She felt an icy chill growing in her belly at the realization.

"I see," she said. The tone of hurt in her voice made his heart ache and he longed to stand up and go to her, to hold her in his arms and comfort her, but he knew better than to try. And he knew there was nothing he could say to her right now that would help her understand any better. She would have to come to the conclusion on her own that he had done the right thing.

There was a wrenching sensation inside him as she turned wordlessly and walked back out the door, slamming it behind her. He sat very still, struggling to keep from crying out in frustration over their situation.

Next Chapter: Celebration.