Inspired by The Witcher Wheel of the Year Challenge on tumblr: Samhain (buckwheat, honey, portal, candles, blindfold) and Comfortember: Safe, Leaves changing, Warmth, Travel, Colours, Cuddles

"Ciri, what are you doing?"

"I have a surprise for you. Hold still, Nilfgaardian," she says with a smirk. "Don't fret, I won't kill you."

"You know, I'm not a—"

Before he can say it, she kisses him on the mouth. Long and deep. While she ties the knot on the blindfold.

"Do you trust me, Cahir?"

"Yes," he answers, still a little out of breath from the kiss.

"Then take my hand. We're going on a little journey. Just the two of us."

Cahir cannot see it because of the blindfold covering his eyes but he is sure that right now, she is smiling at him mischievously. What the hell is Ciri up to?

He does not have any time to further ponder on this question, though, as she grabs his hand and, suddenly, the world starts spinning. A portal. Fuck, he hates those things. He clutches at his girlfriend's hand for dear life. Fortunately, the travel through space is over quickly and he takes a deep, steadying breath as he feels solid ground beneath his feet again.

Funny, the air smells different. Like honey?

"Cahir, I need my hand back," Ciri suddenly whispers in his ear, amusement in her voice. Reluctantly, he lets go of her. Then he hears the rustling of leaves.

"Ciri, where are you going?" It is stupid, but he does not like being left alone in a strange place in the dark. Without a weapon. It already feels a lot colder without her standing next to him, too.

"Back in a minute, sweety. Don't worry, it's perfectly safe here," Ciri assures, still unduly amused. Then he can hear her walking even farther away. Well, he trusts her, does he not? If she says it is safe, it must be.

He takes another breath and, not seeing a thing, concentrates on his other senses to find out more about his surroundings. The place seems peaceful indeed. Besides the delicate, sweet hint of honey in the air, he can feel a gentle, but slightly chilly breeze in his face that smells of autumn. They must still be in the same larger geographical area as Toussaint. Perhaps they are not far from Geralt's vineyard at all and that is why Ciri finds his uneasiness funny? But the birds sound kind of different. Not that he is an expert in ornithology, still, he has lived in and travelled through lots of forests in his life and has never heard birdsong quite like this. Very melodious, beautiful, but - different.

Suddenly, Ciri is behind him. Was he so spellbound by the strange birds' melodies that he has not heard her coming? Or did she sneak up on him on purpose? By now, he knows from experience that she is pretty good at it and loves to catch him unawares. He does not mind, now that they are not enemies anymore, the contrary. She wraps her arms around his waist and breathes a hot kiss onto his neck that gives him goosebumps all over.

"See, no monsters here," she giggles, then takes him by his hand again. "Come, time for your surprise."

It is not far, just a little walk across something that feels like a forest glade. The dry, fallen leaves of the surrounding trees rustle and crackle with every step they take. The faint scent of honey intensifies. All of a sudden, Cahir can feel the ground change. Not covered in leaves forest soil anymore but sand. A beach? But the air does not taste of salt and he cannot hear the boom of waves. Except for the birds' singing, the whispering of the light breeze in the trees and the soft sound of their boots on the sand it is perfectly quiet.

"Ready?" Ciri suddenly asks into the silence, coming to a halt and letting go of his hand. Her voice is so full of excitement, it almost makes Cahir laugh. He is curious, too, but it was kind of nice to be led through this unknown piece of nature by her. Now his hand feels empty and cold. He nods anyway.

"Tada!" Ciri chimes when she has untied the blindfold. "Happy birthday!"

Cahir stares, mouth agape. And not only because he totally forgot that it is his birthday today. How Ciri would know about this is a mystery to him as he has not told anybody about it, however, what literally takes his breath away is the sight unfolding before his eyes. It is absolutely staggering. A little unsettling, too. Shit, he must be dreaming. He blinks several times, yet, they are still there. Three huge, pale-white orbs in a purple evening sky, their perfect images mirrored in a lake of dark, wine-red water, the tiny ripples on its surface glittering in the silvery light.

"Do you like your present?" Ciri eventually asks with a smile, pointing at the many candles she has lit on the picnic blanket that is spread out on the sandy beach. The sand is of a sparkling, opalescent, bluish-white colour. Two glasses of red wine are set out on the blanket and next to them a basket with grapes, apples, pears and nuts, a huge stack of buckwheat pancakes on a big plate and a glass jar filled with golden honey.

"This— This is amazing," he stammers, slowly recovering from his bafflement. After having torn his eyes away from the triple moons, he only now notices all the things she has arranged for him here in this incredible location. "I— I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. Kiss me instead, birthday boy."

He does not need to be told twice. The lake and the moons are beautiful, breathtaking, but the young woman with the ash-blond hair who, miraculously, is here with him, is far more beautiful. Cahir turns toward her, cups her face in his hands and tenderly kisses her soft, red lips.

"I love you, Ciri," he then whispers, looking her deep in the eye.

"I know," she breathes, his words filling her with a sudden warmth in all the right places. Warmth and desire. She flashes him a coy smile. "Do it, Cahir. Love me."

"Are you sure?"

Instead of answering, she presses herself against him and starts to unbutton his shirt. They have only been together for a few weeks and, Cahir being the perfect knight, have done nothing but hold hands and kiss, but never before has she been more sure about anything in her life. She wants him, here and now, and all of him. By the growing hardness in his pants, she can feel that he wants her, too, and badly so. Funny how the black knight of her worst nightmares has turned into the man of her dreams. Who would have thought it? Purring seductively, Ciri rubs her pelvis against his bulge and kisses his now bare chest. He groans into her hair. It shimmers like pure silver in the bright light of the triple moons.

Then they sink to their knees and, for the very first time, make love to each other on this magical beach in a far away world, the Witcher girl and her knight. And it is exactly as wonderful, exciting and fulfilling as Ciri imagined it to be in her dreams. No, even better. For this is real.

Afterwards, they lie naked in the sand, cuddled up against each other.

"Are you happy, Ciri?" he asks eventually, pressing a gentle kiss onto her hair.

"Yes, I am." She smiles up at him. "And I love you, too, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach. But now, I'm hungry. And it's getting cold."

"Right, what kind of knight would I be if I let my princess starve and freeze on my birthday?" he teases.

"I'm not a princess, I'm a Witcher. And you better let go of me now or I'll have to kill you after all." Playfully, she bites his shoulder and then starts to tickle him. Laughing, Cahir jumps to his feet. It is a pity, but Ciri is right, it is getting cold. His stomach has started to rumble, too. They should put some clothes back on and have their picnic before all the candles have burnt out.

So, this is what they do. And when all the pancakes with fruit and honey are eaten and the bottle of wine has been drunk and the flames of the birthday candles have died down, Ciri and Cahir sit together on the beach for a long while in a tight embrace enjoying the wonders of this strange world and each other's company. The scent of honey in the air has become so strong now, it is almost intoxicating. It is obvious were it is coming from, too. All around the lake, big, yellow blossoms have opened. Tiny, bright red, orange and green birds flit from one to the other, colourful little arrows chasing the sweet, nourishing nectar. The leaves of the trees are not green, but all shades of blue that turn purple and pink in autumn. From time to time, the quiet surface of the lake is broken by the movement of silvery and golden fish that try to snap at one of the graceful, iridescent dragonflies hovering above the wine-red waters. A sudden cloud of what looks like millions of bats darkens the sky for a moment, then they are gone again.

"What is this place?" Cahir finally asks, still not quite believing that it is truly real.

"Does it matter?" Ciri responds, snuggling up to him even closer.

He rests his cheek against her silken hair and closes his eyes. She is right. It does not matter where they are or when they are, what was their past and what will be their future. Nothing matters as long as they are together, in the present.