The one with the starfish that needed its face
Kit sat in the shade next to an archway at Corvo Bianco and worked on her reed baskets. Sir Pounce was rolling in the dirt next to her.
A large sunhat protected her uncovered shoulders from the afternoon sun. She was wearing a bandeau top and a long, high-waisted skirt made from linen. People looked at her somewhat strangely when they walked by but most of them were too busy to actually question the practicability of her outfit. In her short stay in Toussaint Kit had talked to and introduced herself to most of the people working at Geralt's vineyard. To them she was just an exotic, far-travelled stranger, whose looks and behavior were not questioned anymore.
She did however immediately catch the eye of a newly arrived visitor. His colorful, richly embroidered doublet with a matching hat that he was wearing made it obvious that he was not from around the area.
"Good day to you, fair maiden! You must be new, I don't think we have ever met," the stranger announced himself with a slight bow.
Kit raised her gaze. "Hi there! Only got here a few weeks ago, so you're right." She smiled politely and then looked down again to the basket that she was working on.
The stranger was mildly annoyed as he failed to grasp the woman's attention and decided on another approach.
"Let me admire your unblemished beauty and write a song about you. Skin as white as milk, hair the color of straw and that beautiful, beautiful neck!" he exclaimed while sitting down next to her and reached out for her. Sir Pounce, startled by the sudden movement of the man, jumped and looked at him curiously from a few steps away.
"Thanks, but that's really not necessary." Kit skidded to the side to avoid the touch.
"Are we playing hard to get? You should know that I enjoy a challenge." The man grinned suggestively.
Abruptly, Kit stood up. "And I enjoy boundaries – seems like both of us will remain unhappy today." And then she just marched off.
"Do you not know who I am?" the man called, his voice somewhere between shock and affront.
"Not interested!" Kit called and waived without turning around, quickly marching for the greenhouses where she would probably find Rita and where the obnoxious stranger hopefully would not dare to follow her.
The man headed straight for the main building, pouting. Without knocking he opened the door and announced himself loudly: "Geralt, where are you? Your best friend has come to visit!"
Geralt stuck his head out of the bedroom. "Dandelion, as always unexpected!" He greeted his friend with a hug. "What brings you here? Your desire to be made a head shorter by the Duchess?"
"Do not despair, my friend!" Dandelion exclaimed dramatically. "All is well between Her Highness and me. I wrote her a letter and the little weasel could not resist my charms. It is a testament to her good taste and intelligence that she did so." Geralt only hummed, refraining from giving his friend a piece of his mind. "Unlike that wench out there. She must be utterly insane. I, the renowned poet Dandelion, offered to create a lyrical testament to her beauty. Something others have begged me to do. But she… oh, do you know what she did? She rejected me! Me!" the poet complained, his face assuming a light shade of red.
"Which poor girl did you scare away now?" Geralt critically lifted an eyebrow.
Dandelion shrugged his shoulders and then sat down, putting his feet on the table. "I have never seen her here before. I assume you hired her recently? Big straw hat, braiding baskets or something? You should let her go, she clearly is not of a sound mind." Geralt chuckled and liked the idea that Kit had rejected Dandelion very much. This was clearly proof of a perfectly fine working mind.
"Ts, what an unappreciative creature! Shall some other unlucky bastard claim her!" Dandelion spat. Geralt knew all too well that his friend was horrible at facing rejection. Still, he needed to remind himself of that in order to restrain himself from slapping Dandelion through the wall.
"Are you done venting?" Geralt asked stone-faced.
Dandelion nodded. "So, anyway, can I stay in the guestroom for a few nights?" he asked nonchalantly, his bad mood blown away.
Geralt shook his head. "I don't know about that, the room is already…" But Dandelion did not let him finish.
"Then I will just share your bed, like we've done countless times back in the day." Before Geralt could even think about how he would much rather like his bed to be shared with someone else, Kit entered. She carried a small basket filled with herbs from the greenhouses.
"Geralt, I have got the things you wanted. Also, something strange just happened. There was a weird…" She broke off mid-sentence when her eyes caught Dandelion. "Never mind."
Geralt cleared his throat, finding the situation awfully funny.
"Dandelion, meet Kit. Kit, this is the poet I've told you about. He'll stay with us for a few days."
"Lovely." Kit smiled through gritted teeth.
Dandelion shot Geralt a telling glance and wrinkled his nose.
"Well, I have things to do. I'll leave the two of you alone." Kit put the basket on a nearby dresser and left.
In his mind Geralt saw an ever-growing stack of crooked reed baskets that was threatening to take over the whole vineyard. Weaving baskets was not something she was good at. He dreaded the day when he would have to tell her in order to avoid having to deal with their increasing numbers.
Dandelion was about to say something but Geralt cut in: "Not another word about her. You become awfully boring when you whine. Instead, tell me why you're here." For a moment it seemed like the bard wanted to protest before he thought better of it.
"My presence has been requested at the wedding of Erasmus Morel. Have you ever heard of him?"
"Yes, he's a well-known trader. Usually spends the summers at his estate not far from here."
"Well, this summer it's him and his betrothed who, as I was told, is an admirer of my art. They pay handsomely. But, anyway, since I was in the area I thought I should come by. It's about time we visit a tavern, get drunk and make a few ladies very happy. Just like back in the day. What do you say? And, just so you know, I will not accept 'no' for an answer."
And so they went. They only returned in the middle of the night. Dandelion very drunk, Geralt very annoyed. In his usual manner Dandelion had attracted everybody's attention by playing a few of his tunes and then started to flirt heavily with a young woman who was very much taken in by his advances – unlike her husband. The situation caused a brawl, furniture was broken and everybody was unceremoniously kicked out of the tavern. Dandelion, as drunk as any human could possibly be, relied heavily on Geralt's shoulder because he was not able to walk on his own anymore. Geralt mentally prepared for the laments that he would have to endure the next morning as soon as Dandelion discovered his black eye and split lip.
The bard fell onto the bed like a bag of potatoes and started snoring immediately. Geralt tried to sleep next to him, in the small corner of the bed that was not occupied by the starfish formerly known as Dandelion. But thanks to the heavy snoring of well-trained vocal cords, sleep would not come for him.
Annoyed Geralt got up with the intention to grab some leftovers from the kitchen when he noticed that Kit was sneaking around the bookshelf in the dining room, apparently looking for something that intrigued her.
"Can't sleep?" he asked.
"I did. But you guys woke me up," she stated matter-of-factly. There was no accusation in her voice, just weariness.
"He won't let me sleep either. His snoring is out of this world." Geralt slumped into a chair, exhausted.
Kit sat down next to him, propping up her head with one hand, eyes half closed.
"I figured he was kind of a nuisance," she mumbled.
Geralt smiled. "He told me about your encounter."
"This man has no boundaries. None." Kit yawned.
"Don't want to defend him, but he's used to being known by everyone and adored by every woman. His perception of reality is a little warped. But I'm sure you gave him a piece of your mind."
Kit rolled her eyes. "Not so much. I just ran away. I mean, I was fairly convinced that he was some sort of psychopath. I might have had a few choice words for him had I not been so startled – I really don't like to be touched by strangers. People here just act so weird sometimes, I'm still getting used to that."
"If that's any consolation: You damaged his pride." Geralt raised one corner of his mouth into a half-smile.
"Really? By walking away? That's some fragile ego." She paused. "He is very unlike you. May I ask how comes you're friends with him?"
Geralt thought about it for a moment and shrugged. "We've been friends for so many years now. He's a prick but he also has a heart of gold. I know, it sounds strange but he'll always show up when you need him. And I guess… sometimes it's just nice to surround yourself with happier people."
Kit nodded but her face continued to show doubt. "I get that. Though the price seems to be a bit high."
Geralt hummed in agreement. "Tell me about your friends."
For a moment an all-encompassing sadness seemed to surround Kit before she smiled it away. "They're chaos personified. Most of my friendships thrive off inside-jokes that are over a decade old. If I didn't get to see any of them for a year or two it wouldn't matter one bit. Because I know for a fact that, whenever I'd meet them next, it'll be as if no time has passed at all. Some things just never change. Whenever I'm sad my best friend is baking an apple pie for me." She sighed and stared into the emptiness dreamily. "No matter what happens, I feel like they will always be there."
Geralt wondered who these people might be. Were they as unpredictable as she was? Her entire world was still an enigma to him.
"What about your friends? Will I get to meet more than that snoring lunatic?" Kit asked, nodding in the direction of the bedroom.
The witcher tried to think of his friends but felt like he had no friendships of his own to compare to besides Dandelion. The other witchers were more like brothers to him and other than them, hardly any people in his life stuck around. He could not imagine Regis baking him a pie regardless of the occasion, even less so Zoltan.
"I wonder what they would make of you…" he thought aloud.
"What do you mean?"
"You are hard to grasp. I can't predict you. I wonder if they could."
"I'm not the weather, I'm not supposed to be predicted," she laughed. "And if I'm so confusing to you, then just ask me whatever is bothering you." Geralt could think of a lot of things he would like to ask her. The ones concerning her thoughts about him kissing her being by far the most chaste of them all.
Suddenly Dandelion snored into the silence again. "Boy, he's loud," Kit exclaimed, pulling Geralt out of his thoughts. "Isn't this torture to your ears?"
Geralt nodded. "You have no idea." He looked at the ceiling for a moment to allow his tired brain to gather some thoughts. Here is one question for you, he thought. "Would you mind if I spend the night upstairs with you? Otherwise, I don't think sleep will be happening for me."
Kit shrugged. "This is your house after all. But I might be snoring, too. Or maybe I don't, I don't actually know."
"You didn't snore last night," he remarked with a smile that she did not see.
"Well, I didn't sleep very much last night," she said yawning, her eyelids drooping. Her face remained neutral but Geralt picked up on her slightly elevated heart rate.
"Why not? Did the thunder keep you up?"
"No, I like the sound of rain and thunder."
"Then what was it? Did I snore?"
"No, you didn't." He heard hesitation in her voice.
"Was it the place? The bed?" he inquired.
"No."
"So it was me after all?" He felt a little guilty but curious at the same time.
"Never mind, it's not important."
"It is to me. If you feel uncomfortable, I won't bother you."
"Geralt, don't be silly. I have never felt safer and better taken care of than whenever I'm with you." There was that beautiful blush again. Geralt felt something in his stomach flutter at this unexpected confession. This might have been the nicest thing anybody had ever said to him and he had no doubt that it was sincere. But whether the interest behind it was of the nature that he desired, he still did not know.
"But that doesn't change the fact that I'll turn into the Grinch, if I don't get enough sleep," she added. Geralt did not know what a Grinch was but he had a rough idea what she meant.
"You'll be as insufferable as when you're hungry?" he guessed, remembering an excursion they had made, when all will to live seemed to have left her once she got hungry and there was no food to be had immediately.
Kit just nodded. "It seems you are finally starting to understand me."
"So how many hours of sleep do you need every day?" he wondered.
"I'd say one or two." Kit paused at Geralt's surprised expression. "But ideally I'd have to get another eight at night."
Geralt shook his head, smiling.
"Well, I'm tired." She yawned again. "You are welcome to join me in your guestroom." With that she got up. Geralt did not linger around much longer and followed her. For a moment he stood in the middle of the room indecisively, as he did not know whether to try and find a comfortable position in the armchair or maybe just follow her to the bed.
"Is sleeping while standing a witcher thing or are you eventually coming to bed?" Geralt was relieved that she took the decision from him and cautiously crawled into bed next to her.
Her behavior confused him greatly. After her silence this morning, he had not expected her to be willing to share a bed with him any time soon. But maybe her silence had had other reasons, he thought, something that he was not aware of at all.
"Is this acceptable in your world?" The question had left his mouth before he had been able to stop himself. But then again, he enjoyed coaxing a little more intimate information out of her.
"What do you mean?"
"Sharing a bed with a man who's not…" Geralt was not sure how to end the sentence. He had been curious ever since the previous night in the palace when she had not even mentioned the fact that they had to share a bed. Sorceresses and other exceptions aside, this type of behavior was rather unusual among women.
Kit turned towards him, eyes closed, hands folded under her cheek.
"My country isn't very religious, if that's what you mean. A person's value isn't depending on what they do, with whom they do it or with how many they've done it. In my social environment at least." She turned on her back and spoke to the ceiling. "Consent is key. The rest is a matter of negotiation." He noticed how, despite her unconcerned tone, her heart beat a little faster than it usually did. "But if it helps you sleep better you can have a priest come by tomorrow. Either to exorcise me or to have us married – it you're that worried over your virginity." Geralt saw her smile at her own joke despite the darkness.
"I'll take the risk," he decided with a chuckle. "But you're alright?"
She hummed. "Only if you finally let me sleep."
"You are a strange woman," he mumbled.
"I'll mostly be an angry woman, if I don't get to sleep now," she said, while turning her back to him again.
The only reason Geralt knew Kit had slept that night was because this time he woke up long before she did. Her head rested on his shoulder and her left hand lay on his stomach just above the waistband of his briefs. Wherever they touched, Geralt's skin tingled in the most pleasant ways. He imagined what else would do what if she had placed her hand a little lower.
It had been too long, he thought, if simple touches were enough to drive him crazy. For now, he would have to be content feeling her calm breath on his skin and playing with her silky hair. He relished feeling her weight on him and wished that she had not just nestled up against him in her sleep but that it had been a conscious decision to seek his closeness.
While Geralt was still marveling at how they always ended up in an embrace after the night, a squeal and a growl sounded from downstairs, telling him that Dandelion had woken up and possibly discovered that his face was not in the best state. He tried to leave the bed without waking Kit and made his way to the stairs.
"How am I supposed to appear at the wedding, looking like this?" When he noticed Geralt on the stairs, he begged: "Do something, Geralt! I need my face!"
"Dandelion, really, that's on you." He rolled his eyes.
"What's going on?" Kit suddenly appeared on the stairs behind Geralt. "Just because beauty sleep isn't working for you doesn't mean you get to disturb everybody else around here." She looked somewhat intimidating despite her eyes being half-closed from the sleep, yet she managed to shoot a deadly glare in Dandelion's general direction.
The bard was about to answer back when he suddenly realized that the two of them had come out of the same bedroom. "Oh," was all he said. Then he excitedly exclaimed: "I knew there was a reason for why you rejected me. No woman can withstand my charms, ha ha!"
"It's gonna be easier for everybody if you just let him believe that," Geralt whispered to Kit.
"Believe what?" Kit cocked her head and sighed. "Ah, never mind. The things I do for peace and quiet," she hissed while smiling at Dandelion who seemed to have already forgotten about the previous drama.
"Geralt, really, you should have told me. You finally letting a lady back into your heart and bedchambers, such great news!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. And this was, Geralt reminded himself, why Dandelion despite his sometimes rather annoying nature was his best friend. The fact that he was so obviously and truly happy for his friend was one of his best character traits.
"Okay, I'm not sure what's going on but I'm going back to bed, I can't deal with so much energy in the morning," Kit said and turned on her heels. Geralt looked after her longingly but descended the stairs anyway. Breakfast had already been prepared and he was hungry.
Dandelion joined him and was able to not ask the questions that were burning on his tongue for exactly five minutes.
"Tell me. Where, when, how? I demand to know!"
Geralt pretended not to understand. "How what?" He dreaded trying to explain what was happening as he himself did not quite understand it.
"How did you meet her? It seems she's not from around here," Dandelion pondered while gesticulating with his croissant.
"You have no idea." Geralt rubbed the left side of his face. He had been experiencing a weird tension in his lower jaw ever since he had gotten up.
"Then give me one."
"It's strange."
"Nothing with you is ever not strange."
Geralt skipped over any explanatory context. The bard had been with him for so long, they had had so many adventures together. He knew very well what was out there.
"Found her in a field. She doesn't know how she got there and, you are right, she is not from around here. She's from a completely different world. I suspect that some sort of small-scale conjunction brought her here. But that's nothing more than a guess. I have no clue, no evidence whatsoever." Geralt wished that Ciri was here so he could ask her. A lot of the things Kit had told him sounded as unbelievable and made up as the things Ciri had told him in the past.
"So, a conjunction dropped her in a field and then you happened to find her?" Dandelion managed to be unimpressed and skeptical at the same time. They had been dealing with travelers between worlds in the past to an extend that one more was not adding much excitement.
"In the middle of the night."
"Do you think it's maybe another bout of destiny?"
"Hope not. I'm sick of destiny." And I want something real, he thought, nothing that has been decided for me. To hell with fate.
Geralt's tongue started to feel around in his mouth. His gums felt a little swollen around the gap where there used to be a tooth that he had lost decades ago in a fight when his main concern had still been to protect little Ciri.
"Lucky bastard! You are the only one I can think of who attracts all the interesting women out there." The bard's voice had an accusatory, possibly jealous undertone.
"Attractive and complicated, as a rule of thumb," Geralt said, shrugging his shoulders. "I could do without any drama for once."
"Let's just stay the hell away from djinns, then," replied Dandelion who immediately understood what Geralt was hinting at. When Yennefer and him had, after all those years, finally broken things off for good, Dandelion had been short of throwing a party for he was happy that his friend would not suffer through that relationship anymore – that, in his humble opinion, never was enough to be called a relationship in the first place. But then again, he did not want to complain as a lot of creative energy could be drawn from that unsuitable couple. "How is she, generally speaking? She's obviously lacking appreciation for good men, that much is certain."
"You meant to say she has actual taste?" Geralt teased his friend whose pride was still hurt. Before Dandelion could retort, Geralt reassured: "She just doesn't like strangers. If you got to know her you'd see that she is kind and smart – I don't think I have ever met anyone like her." Dandelion stared at the witcher with wide eyes.
"Now I'm worried. What kind of spell did she put on you? I don't even recognize my friend anymore."
Geralt shrugged. "No idea. I just know that one touch of her, no matter how small or accidental, is enough to make me forget the world around me. I have rarely felt such a connection to someone I hardly know."
Dandelion critically raised an eyebrow. "You did make sure that she's not bewitching you though?" he asked.
"Don't be silly," Geralt spat. "There is nothing magical about her. And yes, I did check," he added with an eye-roll.
The bard relaxed a little. "Then all is well, I presume? You finally found yourself someone?"
"Did you forget about the part where she is from another world? She obviously has no intentions of staying here. And I will not keep her against her will. I've made inquiries to some old friends to see if any of them can help out." He breathed out in frustration. "And I'm not even sure she likes me, to be honest." He told his friend how he felt that, every time they got a little closer, she seemed to pull away right after, while recounting some of the recent events.
"I don't know if that is just the way people in her world are, or if it's me. Maybe she's only staying with me because she's got nowhere else to go." The frustration had been eating away at Geralt and he was glad that he had somebody to talk to about it.
"Don't be silly, old friend." The bard smiled knowingly. "You know there are all these women who'd gladly spend their time with you. Why wouldn't she?"
"You know that most of them only want me for one night and besides that couldn't care any less about my existence."
"Back in the day that didn't bother you," Dandelion reminded him.
"I'm older now. Old. She is too young for me anyway," Geralt said, mostly out of obligation. She might have been much younger than him but somehow there was no apparent lack of knowledge or experience. Whenever they talked he always had the impression they were equals. Sometimes she even made him feel like he was inadequate, despite his older age.
Was everybody in her world like that?
"Funny that you should say that. Just a couple of minutes ago I thought you actually looked somewhat younger than in my memories. Fresher, somehow. Have you treated your scars? They seem a little faded."
"You know me too well to be asking this kind of question," Geralt hummed.
"Mh, I guess only time will tell. How long has it been anyway?"
"About three weeks."
"Just three weeks?" Dandelion looked at him in surprise. "Sweet Majoran, give that woman some time to adjust! If she really is from another world then being here must be quite the shock. Even I might not prioritize a romance in such circumstances if it were me who happened to stumble into another world." Geralt admitted to himself that Dandelion's general loudness often made him forget that his friend could be compassionate and empathetic if he wanted to.
"It's hard. Her presence drives me crazy."
"There are soft solutions for hard things," Dandelion suggested. "Or have you lost your taste for the working girls?"
Geralt grunted. He had indeed long ago lost the taste for them and he severely doubted they could give him what he needed.
"Anyway, the wedding is tomorrow. The two of you should come so I can… evaluate the situation."
"What's the point? I already told you she won't be staying. If all else fails, I have to wait perhaps a year or so for Ciri to visit the next time but eventually she'll return home." Geralt already dreaded that day.
"The point is to have fun and live a little. And you don't know if Ciri can actually bring her back. She told us about the countless worlds she has visited. How is she supposed to find that particular one? To my knowledge she still doesn't have proper command over her powers. And anyway, nothing that ever came through a conjunction went back home." When he saw the tortured expression on Geralt's face, he added: "Make the best out of what you are given. There is always time to grieve later on."