"What are you two lovebirds reading?"

Triss and Geralt looked up to see who had invaded their home. It was none other than Dandelion making another of his unexpected visits. He strode into their parlor as if he owned the place. Removing his garish hat, he placed it atop a marble bust of the late King Foltest. Then, he plopped himself down on the adjacent couch.

"We have a door, Dandelion." said Geralt.

"Did they not teach you the concept of 'knock before you enter' at Oxenfurt?" added Triss.

"With strangers, perhaps. But I'm practically family!" chimed the bard. "Besides, remember my ballad about the Wild Hunt? I wrote of your magnanimous hospitality: 'He and Triss settled down, their home warm and smelling of freshly baked cakes. Guests were always welcome, no matter the day or hour.'"

"Yes, if they're invited!" corrected Triss. "We don't just let anyone pop in whenever they damn well please."

"But I'm not 'anyone'!" said Dandelion. He then fumbled with his jacket for a moment, eventually pulling out a piece of parchment. Then he produced a quill and a bottle of ink. He licked the tip of the quill, uncorked the bottle, dipped the quill, and rested it on the parchment. "Now to business: I need a word that rhymes with 'vulpine'."

"If you spill ink on my rug, I'll never forgive you!"

"Please Triss! I'm a professional. I've written in the halls of kings and councilors. Nary a drop spilled. Except this one time at a baronesses' house. But, to be fair, she was in my lap teasing me the whole time, the little minx! I was trying to teach her how to write in verse, but we lost control of ourselves. Made quite the mess we did, though she seemed not to mind. Oh, but you have nothing to fear, dear sorceress! I am the very soul of caution."

Geralt and Triss exchanged a significant look. Eventually, the witcher just shrugged.

"How about... mulled wine?" suggested Geralt.

"No, that won't do. Triss?"

"Don't look at me. I'm a sorceress, not a poet. Why do you need a rhyme for vulpine?"

This was perhaps the worst thing to say, for the poet puffed up his chest and assumed a look of self-importance. Geralt knew they were in for one of Dandelion's lectures.

"Why it's for your benefit of course! Who is better suited to immortalize the love you two share? Certainly not that statue of you two in the royal garden, though it is well done, I must admit. You know the one commissioned by King Thyssen by the rose bushes? The one where lovers congregate to steal kisses in the night? It is an impressive display: Both witcher and sorceress looking on into the distance. Geralt has one arm outstretched with sword in hand, his other arm is wrapped around his lover's waist. The fair and beautiful Triss Merigold likewise has one arm holding her lover close, and her other arm is outstretched before them both, open palmed with a flame ever dancing in her hand. Mistake me not, it is lovely – but marble crumbles and metal tarnishes. In a thousand years, it will be but a ruin! The oil keeping the flame alight will be long dried up. But words... words never die! Millennia from now people will know of the love between witcher and sorceress, not because of some statue, but because of the ballads of Master Dandelion!"

The witcher merely stared at the bard, his expression inscrutable. Triss was covering her face, so as to hide her flaming cheeks.

After a minute of awkward silence, Geralt spoke up. "So you're writing another ballad about us? Don't you have any other material?"

"Of course I have other material! It's just not nearly as interesting."

"I get it. And why do you need a rhyme for vulpine?"

"You shall see Geralt! I'm trying some animal symbolism. Everyone calls you 'white wolf', so I need something for Triss."

"And I remind you of a fox?" asked Triss. "Not exactly a compliment, Dandelion."

"Context, context, context! My dear, context is everything! You're crafty and cunning. And, well...You know..."

"Foxy," finished Geralt.

"You too Geralt?" moaned Triss.

"Well, you did wear a fox mask at the Vegelbud's masquerade a few years ago."

Triss beamed at this and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You remembered what I wore that night? You're so sweet!"

Geralt turned his head, gazed into her eyes, and got lost there. For a moment he forgot that they had company. "Mmhmm, also remember you were quite interested in the nude statuary. I chased you through the maze as you giggled and called for me. Found you walking on a fountain's edge. You fell, and I caught you. We kissed just as the fireworks were going off. That night was truly magical Triss."

The sound of a quill scratching on parchment broke Geralt from his reverie. He looked up and noticed that Dandelion was furiously scribbling notes. "Shit! Are you writing this down?

"Yes! This is pure gold. I'll have to feather in that scene as well. I have already begun working on your rendezvous at the docks in Novigrad. When Triss saved all those mages, you remember? Well, how is this:

The wolf chased his prey
Hoping she would stay.

Twas not until she was nearly lost
That his heart realized the cost,
Yet his lupine gaze
Left her in a daze.
He caught his vulpine quarry
But she shared in his glory

Their chase finally finished
Their love grew undiminished!"

"Lovely," remarked Triss. She smiled and rested her head on Geralt's shoulder.

"Oh please!" Dandelion said while waving his hand dismissively. "It's merely a rough draft, Triss. I haven't even established a meter. And the rhyme scheme is boringly predictable. But the common ear doesn't notice such things, I suppose. Regardless, I thank you for your compliment."

"I'm sure Priscilla will help you hammer out the details," added Geralt.

"Naturally! She is my Muse after all. Speaking of, we're singing a duet tonight at the 'Lonely Fisherman'. Can I count on your presence?"

Geralt looked over and Triss nodded.

"Yeah, I'll be there," he said. "I'll bring my foxy sorceress along too."

Triss playfully smacked his arm.

"Excellent!" declared Dandelion. He put his writing materials away, stood up, and took his hat. "I shall let you two resume your reading."

"Only if you don't mind, Master Dandelion!" said Geralt.

"Very funny witcher!" he replied whilst donning his hat. "Farewell."

Once Dandelion was gone, the two decided to continue reading and reminiscing. It was still morning and they hadn't any other plans.

"So, where did we leave off before being rudely interrupted?" asked Triss.

"Just before all Hell broke loose in Vizima," replied the witcher. "You weren't there, but the squirrels had held Murky Waters hostage. The Order showed up to intervene. I knew it'd be a blood bath, so I grabbed Alvin and left them to it. But the boy got spooked and teleported away – even with the amulet you made for him. Dandelion and I sailed to Vizima to see the whole city on fire."

"I remember you telling me about that. I'm so glad you were able to stay neutral despite all," she said proudly. "Unfortunately, Alvin was beyond anyone's help at that point."

"Yes, as we soon found out," he said sadly.

Rather than commenting further, Triss just lifted the book off her lap and resumed reading. "June first, twelve seventy-one. Vizima Castle..."