Chapter 22: Letters and Contracts

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The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the fire casting shadows on the stone walls. Triss Merigold sat on the edge of the bed, the silk sheets pooling around her. She pulled her robe tighter around her shoulders, staring into the flickering flames. The man next to her—a sorcerer with sharp features and a calculating gaze—was getting dressed, his movements fluid and practiced.

There was an air of familiarity between them—sorcerers and sorceresses had long abandoned the conventions of attachment. But even as she lay there, feeling his presence fade from her side, a pang of guilt welled up in her chest. She knew what this was: an attempt to fill the emptiness that had been growing inside her since her time with Harry. It was supposed to be simple, something casual, but the comfort she sought felt hollow.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his tone neutral as he fastened the buttons of his shirt. His eyes met hers, but they held no concern—only the practiced politeness of a sorcerer accustomed to fleeting affairs.

Triss forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm fine," she replied, running a hand through her tousled hair. The lie tasted bitter, but she was used to it. "I just… have a lot on my mind."

The sorcerer shrugged, brushing off her response with a casual wave of his hand. "You know how it is—intimacy is a momentary thing for people like us. No strings, no attachments."

She nodded, but the guilt gnawed at her. She knew the rules, had lived by them for years. Yet, the connection she shared with Harry had always been different—a fire that burned brighter and hotter, but one that threatened to consume her entirely. It was as if he brought out both the best and worst in her, and she wasn't sure which scared her more.

As the sorcerer left the room, Triss's eyes remained fixed on the door, her thoughts a chaotic tangle of regret and longing. The peace she found in these brief encounters paled in comparison to the intensity she had shared with Harry. But perhaps that was the problem. The passion between them was like a storm—uncontrollable and destructive.

She sighed, her hand clutching the sheets as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill. How had things gotten so complicated? Why did it always have to feel so heavy with him?

Pulling herself together, she reached for the small desk by her bed. Her hand hovered over a piece of parchment, hesitation freezing her in place. She knew she needed to write to Harry, but the words felt stuck in her throat. How could she explain what she was feeling? How could she tell him that, even though she missed him, the darkness between them was too much?

But she had to. She needed to give both of them a chance to move on, even if the thought of it tore at her heart.

Dear Harry,

I've thought a lot about us and what we went through. I want you to know that I'm sorry. I was in a bad place, and I took advantage of your kindness. It was wrong of me.

I know the fire between us—it's something I've never felt before, but it's also something I can't control. It brings out the worst in me, and I fear it does the same for you. It's dangerous, Harry, and I don't want to drag you into that darkness again.

I care about you, but I need space. I need to find out who I am without you, and maybe you need to do the same. I don't want to hurt you, but I think it's for the best if we keep our distance.

Please take care of yourself. I'll always be grateful for what we shared, but it's time to move on.

Triss

She folded the letter carefully, her hands shaking. She knew the words she'd written were vague—part of her wasn't ready to let go entirely. But she needed to give both of them a chance to move on, even if it meant leaving the door open just a little longer.

As she sealed the letter, she felt a tear slip down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, not wanting to let her emotions get the best of her. This was the right decision—it had to be.

The roads were long and winding, each village Harry passed through blending into the next. Since his arrival in Cintra, he had taken on contract after contract, immersing himself in the work. His name spread across the lands as the Black Swordsman, a witcher whose fearsome reputation preceded him. Villagers spoke of a warrior whose eyes were as cold as ice, who dispatched monsters with ruthless efficiency.

Harry knew the stories were exaggerated. They always were. But he didn't mind the image they painted of him. The distance it created between him and the rest of the world was a welcome barrier—a way to keep the darkness inside him from spilling over.

His latest contract had taken him deep into a forest where a leshen had been terrorizing a small village. The fight had been brutal, but swift; Harry's swordsmanship, honed under Geralt's training, made short work of the beast. As he cleaned his blade by the edge of a quiet stream, his mind wandered back to the letter he had sent over a month ago.

The silence from Triss had been deafening. He told himself that she had moved on, that she had found another. The thought stung, but it was easier to accept than the possibility that she no longer cared. It was easier to bury his feelings beneath the weight of his duties than to face the uncertainty that gnawed at him.

Just as he was about to sheath his sword, a rider approached, galloping up to the stream's edge before dismounting swiftly. The young messenger handed Harry a sealed letter, bowing low before mounting his horse again and riding off.

Harry's hand tightened around the parchment as he recognized the familiar seal. His heart quickened, but as he opened the letter and read her words, that flicker of hope faded, replaced by a cold, consuming anger.

She had moved on. Her words—though polite—were laced with rejection. She spoke of space, of needing time apart. It was clear she was distancing herself, and despite the vague apology, Harry could see the truth behind her words. She wanted to let go.

He felt a surge of anger rise within him. "Damn it," he muttered, crumpling the letter in his fist. The rush of fury burned in his veins, and the darkness he had tried so hard to contain threatened to spill over.

He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to calm himself. But the bitterness remained, settling like a stone in his chest. The ache was worse than any physical wound he had suffered as a witcher.

Later that evening, as night fell and the fire crackled before him, Harry pulled out another piece of parchment. He knew he needed guidance, and there was only one person who could offer the advice he sought—Geralt, his mentor and the closest thing he had to a father.

Dear Geralt,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know I've been away for a while, and I appreciate you giving me the space to figure things out.

I've been trying to find my way here in Cintra, but things have gotten more complicated. I reached out to Triss, and she responded, but… it wasn't what I hoped for. She's pushing me away, and it feels like everything we had is falling apart. I know you warned me about the dangers of getting involved, but it's hard to let go.

I'm not sure what to do. I feel lost, and the darkness I thought I'd left behind is catching up to me. I don't want to become the monster I'm trying to fight against.

I need your advice. How do I keep moving forward when it feels like everything I care about is slipping away?

Harry

Harry folded the letter, his hands steady despite the turmoil inside him. The flames danced in the night, casting long shadows over his face. He stared into the fire, hoping that Geralt's words would provide some clarity—some way to navigate through the storm.

As he watched the embers glow, he knew that the path ahead would not be easy. He would continue taking contracts, continue living as a witcher. But a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how far he ran, the darkness inside him would follow.

For now, all he could do was wait for Geralt's response and hope that his mentor's wisdom could guide him through the uncertainty that lay ahead.

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Hey everyone, so for those who haven't read the books and are feeling annoyed and confused by Triss's actions i can explain, as stated numerous times by multiple people, ( Yennefer, Geralt, Fringilla, among others ) sorcerers and sorceresses view being intimate very differently to others, they view it as being essentially just casual humping with no strings attached, ( as crass and rather embarrassing that may be ) In the books triss has been known to sleep with many people both before Geralt and after him, ( she always felt empty afterwards which i tried to capture, ) she literally says that though she may not be as "experienced" as Yennefer, ( known throughout the books to be very promiscuous, ) she's still slept with more than her fair share of people, I don't personally agree with it, ( being a Christian and all ) but i felt i wouldn't be doing the story justice if i didn't include the fact that they're all very flawe characters, just as we humans are, their will be character development and rest assured, Triss and Harry will be back together soon enough, but certain events need to cime to pass first, as always thank you for the support and God bless.