A/N: The fallout from the coup - the good, the bad and the unexpected :) Also, the return of the smut XD (It's near the end of the chapter)
While Geralt, Ciri and Avallac'h went to find a place for the overflow of patients, Criss made her way through the crowd outside the hospital, back to the soldier charged with keeping the order. Predictably, he stopped her when she tried to enter the building.
"There are too many patients inside and you don't look like an emergency."
"I'm not a patient. I sometimes help the doctor out and it looks like he could use it right now."
"You're the third one who tried that with me today. Get back with the others!"
"If I could speak to doctor Von Gratz for a second..."
She spotted the doctor's grey hair over the others and called for him.
"Let her pass, she can be of help to us," Von Gratz said, pulling her inside. He lowered his voice as he continued. "Be careful, there are many patients here who have no love for magic."
"I'll be as careful as I can. Maybe you could send the worst cases my way. I'll put them out before working on them and they'll be none the wiser when they leave."
"I think they'll figure it out if they miraculously make an impossible recovery and find themselves without wound or injury in a matter of moments." Von Gratz countered.
"I can tweak my healing so it'll cure the worst of it, but not all. I've done it before. All I need is a private room to work in. Something small so it fits one patient at a time and doesn't disturb the rest."
"I know just the one," he replied, leading her to his office.
Beside his desk was a bookcase overflowing with tomes and a bed for consultations. It was perfect.
"You think this will work?" Ciri asked as they made their way through the narrow streets in the Bits. Many of the houses they passed stood empty with doors ajar.
"This does seem implausible, considering he just tried to destroy the facility you want him to now help," Avallac'h added.
"Implausible or not, it's worth a try. The Bedlam I knew was a friend to mages," Geralt replied to them both. "And if it doesn't work, we can always do it the rough way."
With that said, they reached the wooden gate that enclosed the King of Beggars' kingdom. The few thugs who guarded it saw fit to bar their path and Ciri made to draw her sword, but Geralt stopped her before she attacked them.
"Let's not get off on the wrong foot," he told her. "We're here to see Bedlam. Peacefully."
"He's not expecting anyone. Shove off, the three of you."
"Do yourself a favour and let us pass. You can tell him Geralt of Rivia wants to have a word."
"And how is that doing me a favour?"
"If you don't do what I said, we'll still get in, but you'll each find yourselves short of a head by the end of it. I'm not asking twice, so..."
The thugs exchanged glances in tense silence. It was time to see if Bedlam was paying them enough to risk their lives. He wasn't. They moved out of the way and pointed to a door further back.
"Boss is in there."
"Good choice," Geralt said over his shoulder as they crossed the small courtyard.
He gave the door a short rap before entering but didn't wait to be invited in. Bedlam was next to his desk, gathering everything he owned as quickly as he could. He lifted his gaze to meet Geralt's.
"If you're here to collect on another prize for helping one of my men, you've come at a bad time. I've nothing to offer you," he said while pulling out a drawer and emptying its contents inside a bag. "Radovid has been chipping away at my domain and a sorceress has put the final nail in the coffin. No longer the King of Beggars, now I am the Beggar King."
"That's not why we're here." He paused. "You going somewhere?"
"Anywhere but this city. In case you haven't heard, there's been a change of leadership today, thus I find myself on the wrong side of the fence for it. If I know one thing about mages, it's that they stick together and I expect every mage in the city will soon be after my head."
"Yeah, you really shit the bed with that one. What if I offer you a way to skip over the fence?" Geralt asked. "Maybe even mend some of that fence in the process. All you'll have to do is open your gates to help some people. Nothing you haven't done before."
Bedlam paused and looked him over thoughtfully, then moved his attention to Ciri and Avallac'h.
"Your two companions fit the description of someone my men fought. As such, I find it hard to trust any of you. The last thing I want or need is to invite in those I'm trying to escape from."
"That's exactly what you'll be doing, opening the empty houses in the Bits to the army and the hospital. But I'm willing to help you spin it in your favour. Might even come out as a hero at the end. The narrative would be that Radovid threatened to burn down the Bits, so you did his bidding to protect the people living here. Now that the king is gone, you're working to make amends to those you've wronged on Radovid's behalf."
"I don't understand any of this. Why would you do such a thing?"
"Maybe I'm sick of all the killing I've seen today and I don't want to add to it. Maybe because in the past you've helped mages hide and some of those mages were my friends. Maybe I'm just sentimental today. Take your pick. The point is, I'm willing to let you live and even prosper despite you trying to kill someone very dear to me."
"What's the catch?"
"The catch is that if I find out you've gone back on your word, I'll gut you myself. And you know I'll make good on that promise."
"And all I'd have to do is give you a few empty houses to use?"
"The hospital can't fit all the wounded from today's fight. Of course, you'll see to it that they're cleaned as much as possible and your men will lend any help that's asked of them. In addition, you'll find other means of obtaining revenue, preferably without relying on exploiting the poorest of Novigrad's citizens. Deal?"
Bedlam nodded and called his men, giving them orders to do as Geralt asked. Ciri, Geralt and Avallac'h split up, each of them helping and directing the preparations made to house the wounded. Using magic and brawn, in a couple of hours, the empty houses were as clean as they'd ever be and the three of them were on their way back to Vilmerius.
"You were awfully generous with Bedlam," Ciri commented. "You practically gave him everything for almost nothing."
"I just didn't want to kill him," he replied matter-of-factly.
"That simple?"
"Yes," he said giving her a sideways glance. "You're looking for a complicated answer?"
She chuckled. "You're a complicated man, so... Yes, I was expecting something... more."
"I could give you a list of reasons why it's better that he live," he said with a shrug.
"I admit, I would also find it interesting to know. You humans have the oddest motivations sometimes," Avallac'h commented.
"Fine, if you both are so keen on dissecting my motives. Let's start with the fact that if I killed him, that would leave a power vacuum and scummier people might try to fill it. Secondly, as I told him, he did help Triss and other mages escape persecution when few were willing to stick their necks out. Thirdly, he now owes me a favour. A big one. Lastly, I doubt Criss would condone killing him if it could be helped. She's big on second chances." They rounded the last corner as he finished his explanation. "It looks about as bad as when we left only there are even more soldiers," he said looking at the injured crowd waiting in front of the hospital.
He marched up to the entrance guarded by a soldier, prepared to Axii him if need be, but the man was as relieved as the civilians to hear that Geralt found room to house all the injured. Von Gratz joined him and they collectively decided to keep the worst cases in the hospital and distribute the milder injuries to the new houses in the Bits. Between Bedlam's men and the army, the move was done fairly quickly, so by evening the patients had been divided between the two locations. Geralt, Ciri, Avallac'h and even Bedlam pitched in, carrying stretchers, arranging beds and helping the nurses where needed.
When all was done, they each went their separate ways, only Geralt was left to pick up Criss who hadn't left Von Gratz's office in hours. There were still a couple of wounded waiting their turn outside the door. He leaned on a nearby wall while they got healed, catching glimpses of Criss's back whenever the door opened. Eventually, the last patient left.
Geralt pushed in the door to see her sitting at the doctor's desk with her head in her hands, her shirt stained with blood, both new and old.
"I'll be with you in just a second," she said without lifting her eyes.
"Take your time," he replied. "I'm here to take you home."
"Oh, it's you. I thought it was another patient." She turned and gave a small smile. "There are no more?"
He shook his head. "That was the last one."
His eyes fell on a fresh bloodstain over her shoulder. It kept growing and blossoming on the white fabric. Another vision from long ago hit him. Drip, drip, drip. Blood hitting wooden planks. Bloody handprints. Raw wounds. A girl gathering herself off the floor. Yen's eyes on him. Ciri crying. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"You're hurt," he said pulling the shirt off her shoulder to reveal a bleeding cut. "Did a patient attack you?"
"No," she replied, pulling on a wad of bandages. "It's my fault. I overdid it when I should have stopped. Didn't take enough time between patients so my wounds opened back up."
"So heal them."
"I'm too tired for that. A bandage will have to be enough for tonight," she replied while trying to wrap it over her shoulder and under her arm.
"That's not how you do it. Not if you don't want to rip the new skin off when you change the dressing." He paused with his hand outstretched. "I've said that before, haven't I?"
"You did," she said with a sigh. "Is the rest of your memory returning?"
"Seems like it," he said, pulling out a small jar of ointment he used on wounds. "You triggered something when you healed my back today." He gently wiped the wound and spread the ointment over it. "I still don't remember everything from the island, but I'm getting more and more pieces back."
He wrapped her shoulder in silence.
"Does it change the way you feel?" she asked looking into his eyes.
He made to reply, but she silenced him with a hand over his lips. "No. Wait. I don't want to know. Not tonight. Tell me tomorrow when I'm better. I've had about as much as I can handle today."
"I'll bring Roach around," he said, removing her hand and guiding her back to sit down.
She slumped against the desk and rested her cheek over her arm. When he closed the door behind him, she had already fallen asleep. His own exhaustion wasn't far off either, his limbs felt heavy and his movements sluggish, but at least the day was over.
He pulled the mare around the front of the hospital and went to wake her. On the way back he fought the temptation to fall asleep as Roach's gait was lulling him into a state of relaxation and Criss lightly snoring against his chest wasn't helping either.
They got to the Chameleon to find it in a frenzy of preparations and had he been in a better state he might have cared about the reason. As things stood, the only preparation he was thankful for was the warm bath that awaited them in their room and if he had to make a guess, he would say it was Ciri's doing. Even so, they were too exhausted to make use of it and fell asleep on top of the covers.
His sleep was anything but peaceful. During the night, fragments of memories jumbled alongside nightmares and he was thankful to wake as light dawned outside. Next to him, Criss was still sleeping, her chest moving under shallow breaths. He pressed his forehead against her temple and breathed in with his eyes closed. It did little to quell his mind. In his dream he lost her, chained and screaming as darkness swallowed her. He had relived Regis's death, imagined Cahir being killed by Bonhart, saw Milva give her last breath with an arrow in her chest and Angoulême bleed out in Ciri's arms.
Too much death had been linked to him. Too many good people had died for his cause.
She stirred and hummed when he wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer to him. Her warmth and the sound of her steady heartbeat soothed his mind.
He pulled the rim of her shirt down off her shoulder to check on her bandages. There was no fresh blood on them. She stirred again, opening sleepy eyes to greet him.
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. Just wanted to make sure the wound wasn't bleeding or festering."
"And is it?"
He shook his head and gave her a kiss.
"I've told you before, sleep has great restorative powers. There should be no lasting effects from yesterday's wear and tear. Maybe just a little fatigue, but that's all." She gave her shirt a little sniff and winced. "I can't believe I slept in this filth."
"Yeah, we're both rather ripe. Maybe we should make use of that bath, even if it's cold."
"Cold water isn't going to soak this dirt. No, I'll heat it up and we'll bathe properly," she said as she got up and began shedding layer after layer of garments.
He watched in amusement as she went from her modest peasant disguise to the nymph he knew so well.
"What's so funny?" she asked, noticing his smile.
"You'd think I was awful if I tell you."
"I already think you're awful, so tell me anyway. By your grin, I can tell it's sex-related."
"Am I really that transparent?"
"To me you are. I've seen that look in your eyes plenty of times by now. Is it just because I'm getting naked?"
"Partially."
She poked her toes at the pile of dirty clothes.
"Might as well burn these."
"I was thinking maybe you could save them for later. After Dandelion sends them to Vespula, of course," he said with a wry smile.
"Mmm," she hummed with a raised eyebrow. "In the mood for some role play?"
"In the mood for you," he said coming up next to her. He kissed her long and slow, gliding his hands down her body.
"Oh, Geralt," she moaned. "I'm filthy."
"Yes, you are," he hummed back. "And I'd like nothing more than to get you even filthier." He gave her another passionate kiss before releasing her. "But I'll refrain... for now."
"You're going to kiss me like that and then leave me high and dry?" she asked, placing her hands over his chest. "That's not very nice."
"Don't worry, I won't keep you waiting long. Just thought we'd wash up and have something to eat before I lock you in this room and..."
Moans and rhythmic banging coming from the next room interrupted his sentence.
"Hmm, seems I'm not the only one who's enjoying being alive another day."
"Sounds like someone else beat you to it," she replied.
"Oh, Istredd!" sounded from the next room as the banging intensified.
"Istredd? Was that... Yen?" he asked.
"He must have been one of the mages who came through for us yesterday," she said, getting into the tub. "Come, join me. Let's wash up. It's rude to listen in."
He lowered himself into the hot water alongside her, doing his best to keep any emotions off his face.
"Her room was further down the hall, she must have switched intentionally so we'd hear them," he muttered while he went about washing himself as quickly as possible. His stomach was already loudly protesting the lack of food.
"If she did, I think it's rather childish of her. You two have been over for quite a while. Neither of you should care who the other beds," she said pointedly.
"True, but that doesn't mean I'm comfortable listening to... that." The banging was getting more and more intense and Yen's moans were now accompanied by loud grunts.
"I doubt they're doing it on purpose. They're probably unaware of how thin the walls are."
"I'm pretty sure it's intentional, but let's test it out," he said with an evil grin.
She frowned at him, not understanding while he proceeded to play out a very lewd fantasy in his thoughts. He made it as graphic as he could and mixed it in with some of his memories and sure enough, within moments, the moans coming through the wall turned into annoyed curses.
"Hah, I knew it," he said, chuckling. "Not a fan of her own medicine."
"Did you just do what I think you did?" she asked, grimacing.
"If by that you mean if I was very loudly thinking about what I want to do to you later today, then... Yes, that's exactly what I did. And as I suspected, she was listening in."
"Why would she..." Her voice trailed off as she frowned. "If she's doing this because she wants you back, then you should have a mature conversation about it, not..."
"Let me stop you right there," he said, shifting in the tub so he could hold her. "She doesn't want me back."
"Then what does she want to prove?"
"Yen doesn't like that I've moved on. She doesn't want me back, but she wants me to want her. Which I don't." He sighed. "I don't think it's even so much about me, as it is about her wanting everyone to want her."
She rolled her eyes. "Talk about unhealthy." She pulled out of his embrace. "She did succeed in one thing. Making me want to leave this room."
After finishing their morning routine, they both descended into the tavern to find it in the same effervescent state as the previous evening. Zoltan and Dandelion were arguing most passionately about the choice of liqueur they needed to acquire, Priscilla had wrangled all the performers and was instructing them to polish their best acts, while the rest of the barmaids were giving every surface in the place a thorough cleaning.
"In all the time I've been here, I've never seen this place be turned upside down like this," she commented while looking around.
"Is there a festival I don't know about?" he asked the nearest barmaid.
"Festival? No! Haven't ye' heard? There's 'bout to be a weddin'!"
"Whose?"
"The King's!"
"King's... What?" His brows knitted together in confusion. "Radovid's?"
"Nah, not that bastard." She spat, contempt written all over her face. "For all I care, Radovid can rot in hell after he burnt down my apothecary's place..."
Geralt placed a hand on her arm to stop her from going into a rant.
"Wait, then who's king?"
"King Sigismund! At least he'll be once he marries Adda, gods bless her!"
His hand dropped and the barmaid moved away while he was stuck in place, stunned. It took Criss tugging at his arm to snap him back to reality.
"Dijkstra... He played us and I didn't see it coming," he muttered.
"No one saw it coming." She shook her head, then chuckled lightly. "But every cloud has a silver lining... Philippa must be livid."
He joined her in laughing. "That's one hell of a silver lining." He searched the tavern for the blind sorceress, but only saw Margarita and Triss at a table. "Let's join them. Maybe we'll learn something more."
They walked over to their table only to see that Triss was deep in her cups although it had only been light out for a few hours.
"Celebrating the new king?" he jested, pointing at the nearly empty bottle of dwarven spirit.
"This?" she slurred lifting her glass. "Nah, just drinkin' to all my happy friends' health. Happy, happy, happy! Can't you tell?" Then proceeded to burst into tears.
His jaw fell and he was left "umm"-ing in confusion.
"Is she alright?" Criss asked Margarita.
"She's been like this since last night, so I'd say, she's not alright, but it'll probably pass."
"Probably?" Criss insisted.
Margarita shrugged. "It's not the first time she's gone on a tailspin. Last time I saw her like this, she had just been jilted by her lover. This time I think Yenna and Istredd set her off."
"Dandelion is all up Priscilla's ass, you two are all lovey-dovey, and now Yen... Even fuckin' Dijkstra's happy! Him and a striga! A striga is getting married for fuck sake!"
"Shhhh," Margarita tried to calm her. "Better not shout that in public about the queen. There may no more witch hunts, but that kind of sentiment might pass for treason."
"Maybe it'd be better to take her to her room. Get her to sleep," Geralt suggested. "If she carries on like this, she'll get herself in trouble by noon."
"As if I could. She's too far down the bottle to listen to reason and those amulets she has around her neck protect her from..."
"Hey! You... I thought you were my friend," Triss slurred again, reaching out for Geralt's thigh. He caught her hand before she could touch him and signed Somne over her forehead. It had no effect other than stirring her fury. She lifted her free hand and started slurring a spell, but before she could finish her incantation, Criss stunned her.
"She'll be asleep until she sobers up."
"I'll take her upstairs," he said to Margarita. "And when I come back, maybe tell us what happened yesterday at the Church after we left."
As soon as Geralt disappeared from view, Margarita pinned Criss in place with her shrewd gaze.
"No formal training, huh? I believe that's what you once told me."
"Can you blame me? I hardly knew a thing about you."
"You knew I was Yenna's friend."
"Yennefer and I, we're... I don't know if we're friends. I mean, I don't know if she considers me a friend. Sometimes she's as cold as a glacier and other times she's as nice as they come." She sighed. "My point is, I didn't think that was enough to trust you. No offence."
"None taken. But after saving your life yesterday, the least you could tell me is where you learnt to stun someone so well protected."
"I don't think my answer will mean much to you. It's not anywhere you've heard."
"You can't even give me a name?"
She sighed again. "Like many others, it's just a temple where healers train."
Just as Margarita was opening her mouth to press more information out of her, Geralt returned and sat next to Criss.
"The King, I mean Radovid, not Dijkstra... What happened to him?" he asked.
"He's jailed in his own dungeon for now. Dijkstra convinced Adda that there needs to be a fair trial, open to the public, trying to play up the difference between the old and the new. Show that his, I mean their rule will be transparent and just. Although, I suspect his head will end up on a pike regardless."
"Hmm, I'm surprised Philippa and Roche didn't murder him on the spot."
"Oh, it was a near miss on Philippa's part. She already had her dagger out, but Dijkstra assured her that the king would be getting what's coming to him. Frankly, that was the only thing keeping any of us from assassinating the miserable wretch."
"Still, I'm surprised that's all it took to stop Philippa."
"Make no mistake, she was fuming when all was said and done. Her political ambition is nothing secret, and seeing Dijkstra's rise... Let's just say it did nothing to appease her. She's probably off stewing somewhere."
"So when's the trial?" Geralt asked.
"In a few days. Queen Adda wants it done before her wedding."
"And when's that supposed to be?"
"The invitations say it's at the end of this week. The ceremony is to be held at the Church to appease the Eternal Fire believers, and then all the taverns in the city have been ordered to celebrate the event while we partake in the lavish feast thrown by our new royalty."
"We?" they asked in unison with eyebrows raised.
"Yes, all of us are invited, you two included, so you'd best dust off your dancing boots, witcher. Which reminds me, I have an appointment with my tailor today," she said as she got up from her seat. "Perhaps we'll finish our other conversation another time?" she asked, looking at Criss.
Criss nodded in silence, hoping that time wouldn't come too soon.
"What was that about?" Geralt asked once they were alone again.
"She wants to know about my magic."
"So you're that friendly with her, huh?"
"I haven't made up my mind yet. She seems nice, but..."
"But she's part of the Lodge."
"Exactly." She sighed. "Either way, there's not much to gain by telling her anything now. If she ends up sticking around to help Ciri, she'll learn her fill then."
"Don't get your hopes up. With no persecution, they're free to rebuild their influence. Margarita might be more interested in setting up a new school for magic than anything else." He signalled the barmaid to come over. "Let's break our fast, and try to forget about this royal wedding."
"I'm not forgetting anything, I already have a dress."
"You do?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "Were you planning to attend parties I don't know about?"
"Not really. I had it made on a whim. Elihal's work was so good, I couldn't help myself. Let's just hope this dress makes it out of the event in one piece."
"Makes it out? What's that supposed to mean?"
"You really haven't noticed a pattern?" She paused giving him time to think. "I'm starting to have a collection of dresses either splattered with blood, caked in mud or ripped apart."
"Maybe you should consider wearing armour to the event. That's what I'd do."
She made to protest just as the barmaid reached their table and took their order, but as soon as she left, Criss continued.
"You're not serious, are you? Wearing armour to a wedding? Wouldn't that be considered an insult? Like you were preparing to injure the guests or wedding party."
"Wouldn't be the first wedding where he injured the wedding party," Dandelion commented, plopping down next to them. "Well, it was more like a betrothal party, but close enough. And he wasn't even wearing armour and sword, to begin with."
"Thanks for reminding me. Now I'm considering skipping the nuptials altogether."
"Oh, come on, Geralt! Don't be such a bore! Everyone who's anyone will be there and I'll be performing my superb repertoire the entire evening!"
"All the more reason not to go," Geralt deadpanned.
"You'll make him see reason, won't you?" Dandelion said, looking at Criss. "After all, how often does one see such an unusual alliance?"
"Please! It might be my only chance to see a royal wedding," Criss pleaded with her best puppy-dog eyes. "I don't want to go alone." She leaned in close to his ear. "Promise I'll make it worth it."
"Ugh!" The witcher rubbed a hand over his face. "Fine, you win."
Dandelion grinned at Geralt's glum face. "Nothing like a woman's plea to move a witcher's heart! Or other parts for that matter."
"Don't you have someplace else to be? Something or other to instigate? That preferably doesn't involve me."
"Oh, there's plenty to be done before the wedding! Starting with proper attire!" he said as he got up. "You two have a pleasant meal, and don't get into any trouble."
"What is it with everyone and this obsession for clothes?" he muttered as he prepared to dig into his breakfast.
"It's a wedding, Geralt. Everyone wants to look their best. I bet Elihal is drowning in work."
He just hummed in response, too busy demolishing his plate. As they were nearing the end of their meal, she remembered something Triss said.
"So the queen used to be a striga?"
"Mhm."
"This wouldn't happen to be the one who gave you that scar?" she asked as she trailed her fingers along his neck, over the crescent mark of the bite.
"Same one, yes."
"You really do have your fingers in all the important pots of this world," she mused.
"Not by choice," he replied, setting aside his plate and curling an arm around her waist. "And as a matter of fact, there's only one... pot I'm interested in getting my fingers in."
"You never fail to make everything sexual," she laughed. "Let's go upstairs and see what we can do about that pot. Maybe our neighbours have finished their concert."
"Fuck, I forgot about them." He grimaced, rubbing his chin. "I don't want Yen thinking I'm trying to turn this into a competition. We'd best find some other place for our dalliances."
"You have somewhere in mind?"
An hour later, they were once more in the northern part of Novigrad, in front of its most luxurious brothel.
"The Passiflora?"
"Mhm. Come, I'll get us a room and then you can show me how you can make it worth my while to go to Dijkstra's wedding."
She laughed. "Are all witchers so quick to collect on their promised reward?"
"You're lucky I didn't make you pay while I was having breakfast."
"So gallant of you to let me finish my meal before shagging me."
"Don't fret, love. You'd have been well-fed while I ate."
"Again with the innuendos," she chided.
"Don't play coy, I can hear your heart race in anticipation."
"I did miss you," she said as he led her through the front door.
The brothel was in a similar state of agitation as The Chameleon, but they were still open for business. Geralt walked right up to the madame, Marquise Serenity.
"Ah, Geralt! Always a pleasure to see you in our fine establishment," she greeted the witcher. "What'll be today? Fine dining, Gwent or something more carnal?"
"I want to rent one of your rooms for the day."
"You're in luck, we still have a few vacancies. Nobles have been pouring in from the countryside, eager to see the wedding."
"I want the biggest room you've got, with all the amenities."
She looked over his shoulder at Criss, measuring her from head to toe before returning her eyes to the witcher. "Any other requests aside from the room itself? I can send one of the girls..."
"That won't be necessary."
The madame hummed and handed him a glided key in the shape of a heart.
Geralt gave the key a quick glance and then guided her towards the staircase. As soon as there were up the first flight of stairs, his hand slid from her waist to her ass.
"Hmm, a little impatient?" she asked, turning with a smile.
"More than a little. We got two more flights of stairs and I'm fighting the urge to throw you over my shoulder and run the rest of the way."
"So you're coping a feel to compensate?"
He caressed the curve of her ass before slipping his hand between her thighs, rubbing his fingers over the inseam of her trousers. She gasped at his touch, before it turned into a moan when the energy coming off his hands permeated her clothes. A pair of customers passed by, giving them a furtive glance.
"If you grope me like that in public, people will think I work here," she said without pulling away.
"And if you moan like that, people will think you enjoy your work," he replied with a sly grin.
"So is that it? You want me to be your lady of the night while we're here?" she asked when they were in front of their room. "That could be an interesting experience."
He unlocked the door and ushered her in with a kiss. His lips moved over hers, soft and sensual, while his hands firmly grasped her behind. She hummed into his mouth and pulled away.
"Mmm, not so fast lover boy. You've sampled the goods, but payment's upfront for anything more."
"You're serious about this?" he asked with raised eyebrows.
"Wouldn't be fair otherwise," she replied caressing his chest, slipping effortlessly into her role. "If I'm to be all yours, you have to make it worth my while."
"Alright. Then this is all yours," he said, handing her his entire coin purse.
"All of it?"
"Mhm, but you'll need to earn it."
"Mmm, don't mind working hard," she said, biting her lip with a raised eyebrow.
"Good, 'cause I'm not going to take it easy on you. You can start by shedding some of those layers you have on. You're overdressed for your profession."
She gave him a crooked smile as she unlaced her shirt, then her trousers, leaving all her clothes and boots in a messy pile on the floor.
"Satisfied?" she asked with a hand on her hip.
"It's a start," he deadpanned, but a fire burned in his golden eyes.
"By all means, tell me how I should continue."
"Get yourself wet and ready for me."
Her eyes swept across the room, ignoring the large bed and focusing on the dining table next to the tub. She walked up to it and sat herself on the tabletop, opening her legs. Her index and middle finger drifted up and down, over her nether lips, before putting them in her mouth to taste her wetness.
"I wouldn't mind it if you gave me a hand with this," she said, sucking her fingers suggestively before sliding them between her legs again.
He drank her in from across the room, trying to keep his composure.
"I thought you said you don't mind working hard," he teased as he came up to her, placing his hands on the tabletop on either side of her thighs.
"I don't, but just a little while ago you were so eager that you wanted to run up the stairs. Just watching me must be boring."
"You are anything but boring to watch."
"Still, there must be something more satisfying you'd rather do," she said, tugging at the laces of his trousers, slowly easing them so she could slide her hand inside to stroke him.
He leaned into her touch as he grasped one of her breasts, then slid his hand up along her neck until he cupped her cheek, resting his thumb against her lips. His eyes fixated on her mouth, so she nipped his finger and gave it a small lick.
"Mm, so you want me to blow you."
He pulled his hand away and moved his eyes to hers.
"Only if you want to."
"This is a whorehouse. It's not about what I want. You get what you pay for, and you paid enough to get anything you want."
"Put the role-play aside for a moment," he said with a sigh. "I'm seriously asking if this is something you're comfortable with."
"Come on, Geralt, you're asking as if this would be the first time I've sucked you off. Of course, I'm comfortable doing it. Why would you even think twice about it?"
"Because you haven't in a while."
"I haven't? Really?"
"Mhm. Not since before I left with Ciri."
She had to think about it for a second, but he was right.
"It wasn't on purpose if that's what you thought. Why didn't you say anything until now?"
"I couldn't think of a way of asking without sounding like an asshole. I still feel like an asshole for bringing it up and I don't want you to do anything you don't want."
"Then let me put your mind at ease," she replied, slinking off the table, and going down to her knees in front of him.
She caressed his thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath, before unlacing him completely and easing his cock free. Her tongue slowly licked up his whole length, her hand following with a stroke that spread the spit all over. She looked up to see the barely contained lust in his eyes.
"Let's see if I can give you your money's worth," she said just before wrapping her lips around his girth.
A low moan escaped him as she sank his entire length down her throat and stayed with her lips pressed against his groin for a moment. She pulled back, running her tongue over him before sinking back down. Her hands worked in tandem with her mouth and soon he had to lean against the table to keep himself upright.
"By all the gods, I've missed this!" he moaned. "I'm barely holding back from fucking your mouth."
She pulled off, a string of spit tying her lips to the tip of his cock.
"So don't hold back," she hummed, licking up and down before taking him in once more.
"Fuck," he cursed as her lips touched the base of his cock. "If it's too much, tap my thigh and I'll stop."
His hips bucked forward and his fingers tangled in her hair, drawing her closer, keeping her in place so she could throat every thick inch of cock. She relaxed, letting him in as deep as he pushed while her hands wrapped around his hips, grasping his buttocks, encouraging him to let loose. The way he lost himself in her thrall was delicious to watch and slick pooled between her legs. He fisted her hair and grunted while a final deep thrust sent ropes of cum into her mouth.
"Satisfied with my service?" she asked, pulling back and swallowing the last drops off her lips.
"Worth every godsdamned crown," he grunted, looking at the ceiling with his fingers still threaded in her hair. "Only problem is this transaction left you wanting and we can't have that. Even at a whorehouse, a lady has to get hers. Get on the bed."
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Won't it be uncomfortable if you go again so soon after coming?"
"It would be if I intended to fuck you... Which I won't... Yet. Now get on the bed."
She got off her knees and walked up to the bed, giving him an over-the-shoulder smile.
"On my knees? Or..."
"On your stomach, eyes closed," he replied, stripping off his shirt.
She laid down, with her cheek to the sheets, aching with anticipation and listening.
Fabric crumpling, the clinking of a buckle - he was undressing. A thud – probably his boots.
The slap of bare feet over the floorboards, but they were getting further away. Her brows furrowed.
The scraping of wood on wood. A drawer? A creak. A door? Is he looking for something?
A pleased hum and then footsteps approached the bed. The mattress shifted underneath and her heart raced, eager for whatever was coming.
"No need to be so nervous," he said.
"I'm not nervous, I'm excited. And curious."
He chuckled. Something warm touched the outside of her hip, the mattress moved again and something heavy settled over the back of her thighs. Liquid dripped over her back and the scent of jasmine overpowered everything else in the room.
"I'm just going to give you a massage," he said, rearranging himself over her so that his hard length rested in between her buttocks.
"This better be the kind of massage that has a happy end or I'll be very angry and frustrated."
He huffed a laugh. "We'll see."
His hands spread the oil over her back and ass, skillfully releasing knots she didn't even know she had before moving up to her shoulders and arms. Each time he moved, his cock brushed back and forward, sliding on her slippery skin; this was more teasing than she could take.
"Geralt, this is torture. I need you inside," she moaned. "If not your cock then at least your fingers."
"Mm, alright," he hummed, gripping her ass to spread her.
His cock brushed through the mess between her legs, then slipped in as he continued to massage her. He stretched and filled her, lightly thrusting in time with the movement of his hands. She tightened around him as the pressure in her belly built. His fingers over her skin sent her nerve endings alight and she moaned uncontrollably under him. If he continued his slow tease, he'd drive her to the edge of madness.
"Turn on your back," he said, pulling out of her and moving away.
With eagerness, she turned, but instead of lying back, she climbed onto his lap, reaching in between them to guide him in. She sank onto him with a satisfied moan and he chuckled.
"I'm not done massaging you," he chided.
"Mm, this is the only part of me that needs a really fucking deep massage," she hummed, rocking her hips slowly and nuzzling his neck.
"I was going to get to that... eventually."
"Eventually is not soon enough," she said, picking up the pace. "I need it now."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders to gain support as she rode him. His hands wandered, one grasping a breast while the other went up from her thigh to her ass to land a slap over an asscheek. She gave a wanton moan and sped up.
"That's right, work for it," he said, landing another slap. "You need to earn that fat purse of coin."
"Mm, fuck, Geralt," she moaned with her nails digging into his traps. "I don't give a shit about the coin."
"That's not something I often hear in a whorehouse."
"Fuck," she cursed again, almost losing her rhythm. "Your cock is so good, I forgot we were role-playing."
She hummed, drawing his head towards her breasts until he obligingly kissed and suckled on them. The heat between her thighs turned into a fire that burned bright as she clenched around him, overcome by her orgasm. He flipped her onto her back as soon as the waves of her climax receded. His hands grasped the back of her thighs and pushed them towards her shoulders.
"Does that mean I'll get my purse back?" he asked, thrusting hard into her.
"Make me come again like that and I might consider returning it."
He hummed and adjusted the angle of her hips. She arched her back and cursed; he was hitting the perfect spot at exactly the right cadence. His thumb gently brushed against her clit and her toes curled. He kept the pace steady and firm although his eyes burned bright with passion. He sent her over the edge once more then chased his own release with wild fury. His body pinned her in place, resting on a forearm while he cupped her ass and lifted her off the mattress, plunging into her hard and deep until his hips stuttered. He sealed her lips with his as he pulsed inside, filling her.
"Satisfied?" It was his turn to ask between deliciously slow kisses.
"It's a start," she teased.
"So I'm not getting my purse back?" he asked with a wry grin.
"We'll see."
"Hmm, then I'd better go check the noticeboard for some witcher contracts, so I can pay for dinner."
"Oh, I'm sure I can find something for you to eat."
"Now who's using innuendos?" he huffed. "Maybe we should have played the roles in reverse. They also have male workers in this establishment."
"We can always switch up if you don't mind selling your services."
"I'm a witcher. Selling myself is what I do, just without the sex part, but for a lovely lady such as yourself I'd be willing to whore out that part as well," he said, kissing her again.
"I never thought I'd be saying this about a brothel, but I'm sorry to leave," she said, handing him back his purse after getting dressed.
"I bet most customers feel that way. Although you did end up playing the part of both service and serviced."
"And I enjoyed both roles. By the way, you'd make a killing if you ever decided to change your line of work."
"I had to make my money back somehow, but I'll keep that in mind in case all monsters die out and I'm left without a job."
"I hope you don't think I'd have actually kept your money."
He shrugged with a crooked smile.
"Seriously?" she gasped, slapping his shoulder.
"Hey, I wouldn't have minded if you did. I might have had to borrow some crowns from Dandelion, but it would have been worth it."
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, but when he gathered her into his arms and kissed her, she melted into his embrace.
"You know I'm only teasing," he said once he pried his lips from hers.
"You've been doing that a lot lately."
"Only cause you love it so much."
"Yeah, right. Like I don't see that smug grin you get when I end up begging."
"What can I say? It's a real turn-on to see you flustered and blushing. Besides, what man wouldn't want to have a gorgeous woman beg for him to screw her?"
She rolled her eyes again and made to pull away, but he held her tight and gave her another deep kiss before whispering a soft "I love you."
"I love you too, damn smug witcher," she said with a smile. "Now let's get back and see what fresh trouble awaits at the inn."
"You think there'll be trouble?" he asked as they descended the stairs.
"When is there not trouble? If it's not spectral riders, then it's a coup, or someone imprisoned in a dungeon, or an elven sage who fell into a volcano..."
"Or a wedding," he cut in.
"Wow! You really don't like weddings, do you?"
"Nah, it's not all weddings I have a problem with. Just the royal kind. Getting skinned alive again sounds more appealing than having to go to one."
"Still, you'll keep your word and be my date to Dijkstra's wedding?" she asked, curling her hand around his.
He stopped as they crossed the square in front of the brothel and twirled her around before cupping her cheek.
"I promised, didn't I?" he said, low and soft.
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed the story, I encourage you to leave a comment. Promise I'm nice and I won't bite :)