The one with the possible decapitation invitation

It was quiet, save for the buzzing and clicking noises of the cicadas. While the days still tended to be hot, the nights had become rather chilly. Kit wrapped the coat tighter around herself.

Unnoticed by all but a certain vampire, who had been sitting on the roof staring into the night sky, she slowly walked to the stables, the environment merely illuminated by the silver light of the moon. Sir Pounce ran circles around her legs before jumping on a stack of wooden boxes next to her, demanding with a meow that she tickle his head. Roach flicked her ears in her sleep.

"Do you always spend your nights like this?"

Kit jerked, startled by the unexpected voice of the man who had suddenly appeared next to her.

"Regis! What the hell?" Kit clutched her chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! Are you always sneaking up on people like this?"

He chuckled. "I apologize, I did not mean to frighten you. But what are you doing out here, my dear?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"What would your witcher say if he knew you left your bed?" he inquired with a mysterious smile on his lips.

Kit made a humming noise. "Not my witcher, not by bed." She looked up to the window of the guestroom where Geralt was still sleeping peacefully.

"No? Are you certain?" Regis gave her a curious look.

"We don't do slavery where I come from. Therefore, possession of other people is out of the question. And the bed is most definitely his." She smiled at him briefly before she focused her attention back on the fat black cat that still demanded her attention.

"I wholeheartedly agree with this. And yet, sometimes people give themselves up willingly. An odd behavior, often appearing as a side effect of an illness by the name of affection, I have been told."

"Do you think I have reason to worry about this?" She avoided his gaze but he noticed the smile on her face anyway.

"Reason to worry? No. Most people take it as grounds for celebration though. Might this be something you want to take into consideration?" The vampire had been observing the two of them for the entirety of the evening with great interest. Geralt had told him that he had nothing to offer her. Kit, on the other hand, had looked at him as if he was all she needed. Regis had noticed every single time they had felt for each other's hands beneath the table. He had also noticed how every time Geralt reached out for her, Kit's heart had started to beat a little faster. And while nothing could agitate Geralt's heart save for some specific potions, Regis had observed the distinct way his crow's feet wrinkled when he smiled because of her, as if his skin was about to crack because it was not used to this sort of movement anymore. While the vampire held the witcher in high regards, in this particular situation he was inclined to agree with the bard. Geralt, it seemed to him, might indeed be a little dense when it came to matters of the heart.

Kit did not answer.

"Again, I apologize. I realize this is a topic perhaps too intimate to be discussed between strangers." Regis lowered his head.

She sighed. "You are only the second person within 24 hours to try to make this your business. If I didn't know any better I'd say you and Dandelion are in need of a healthy dose of reality TV so you can snoop around in someone else's life for a change." While Regis did not understand everything she said, he was able to pick up on the fact that she was joking. His capacity for empathy however allowed him to detect the unease that was hiding behind her mask of pretended airiness.

"I imagine the current situation is rather stressful?" he offered with a worried glance. Her mannerisms differed greatly from what he was familiar with. And yet, her body language concerning the witcher spoke loud and clear, even though she was probably not aware of it, he thought. Working himself through her emotions intrigued the vampire with a predilection for mandrake very much.

Kit shrugged. "I mean, I somehow ended up in a different world and time period, not a big deal. And someone is messing with my mind. Who knows what's coming next? Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow morning thinking I'm Elvis. All in all, it's basically like any other Tuesday, nothing special going on here." Regis smiled.

"Allow me to distract you from your current situation for selfish reasons." Kit shrugged once more.

"From what I gather your time, relative to ours, is in the future?"

Kit nodded. "About 700 years."

"700?" Regis looked at her astonished. "I must insist that you tell me something about the state of medicine in your future. Call it professional curiosity, I am a barber-surgeon by trade."

"What an odd word, don't you think? In my world barbers and surgeons are worlds apart. How funny would it be to go to a hair salon and be like: A cut, some highlights and, while you're at it, would you mind removing my appendix?" She sniggered while Regis only raised an eyebrow, unable to comprehend what was so funny to her.

"Sorry. I can tell you things. Not in detail of course, but the gist of it. Pick my brain, if you like." She smiled, then added with a raised finger: "Figuratively speaking."

"You are not scared of me." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, why would I be?" she wondered, eyebrows raised.

"I am a vampire." He folded his arms across his chest. Whenever he revealed himself to someone, they rarely just shrugged this fact off.

"Yes, obviously. But you are awfully nice as far as I can tell. And Geralt trusts you, so why shouldn't I?"

"Oh, my dear, you should, absolutely. I am afraid I have to apologize for my impertinence yet again: You trust him with your life by trusting me. But you do not seem to trust him with your heart."

"It's complicated." She turned away from him so he would not see how embarrassed she was.

"I simply must ask: What makes you think this?"

She sighed, looking exhausted all of a sudden.

Had it been anybody else, Regis would have dropped the matter. But this was about Geralt, ever grumpy, ever worrying Geralt. And despite the unlucky circumstances, the vampire had seen his friend smile more in a few hours than in all of their years of friendship combined.

While Regis was not someone to meddle, this was the one time he could not resist. Whatever was in the works was going to happen inevitably, there were no doubts to be had. He could feel the pull between them, just as if they were magnets. Confused magnets, but still magnets that, in the end, would obey the laws of nature. Regis would love to contribute to their wellbeing, even if he could only expedite the process by a few days. After all, humans had such a miserably short lifespan.

Kit clutched Sir Pounce to her chest who meowed confusedly, paws raised while the rest of his fluffy, furry body limply was dangling down.

"How about this: You show me your real face and I'll show you mine. Again, figuratively speaking as I only have this face. But I'll give you access to the crap in my head to your heart's content."

This, Regis had not expected.

"I don't think you wish to see this." Now it was him who averted his gaze, feeling uneasy. "It is not a very pleasing sight to the human eye."

Kit said nothing, just looked at him.

"I would hate for you to think of me as a monster," he admitted.

"Trust me that I won't think differently of you. And I'll trust you with my secrets." She offered her hand. Hesitantly, Regis took it. He did not hold it very firmly though, giving her the option to withdraw it quickly.

His face started to transform, his eyes turned completely black. His nose flattened and his teeth shifted and grew in his mouth. Long, sharp claws were protruding from his fingers.

Sir Pounce started screaming and freed himself from Kit's embrace.

She cocked her head. "You do look a little like a bat. Who'd have thought?"

"That's what you have to say?" He realized she was still holding his hand.

"Well, in all honesty, your complexion is a little sickish." She grinned at first, but then her face assumed a more serious expression. "Thank you for showing me. You have no idea how helpful that was."

"Helpful?" That was something he certainly had never heard before. Somewhat perplexed he resumed his human shape.

She nodded. "You should have seen how I freaked out when Geralt fought a ghoul. That was my first encounter with something that doesn't exist in my world." She paused. "I'm pretty sure that there is no way back for me. And that means I need to arrange myself with my new living circumstances. And monsters," she raised her hands to indicate air quotes, "are part of that. I was worried that I would never be able to handle their existence. But," she looked at him, smiling, "it's comforting to know that not everything that looks different is automatically dangerous." He suppressed the urge to point out that he was in fact very dangerous and merely chose not to be most of the time.

"Still not scared?" He could feel that there was no fear and yet he had a difficult time believing it.

"It's hard to be scared of someone who is as polite as you are. And," she sighed, "I do trust Geralt, just like you said."

"Then what is stopping the two of you from riding into the sunset together?" Regis returned to his initial question.

Kit pondered. "This is all moving much too fast. I've only been here for a few weeks. I don't think I have ever grown so fond of anyone so quickly. Not that I would be able to remember… And it scares me. Just a few weeks and the idea of a life without him already seems wrong. That's not… It doesn't feel right. Or healthy. But at the same time, I can't help but think he's been made for me. Which is such a weird thing to say." She turned away from Regis to rest her elbows on the wooden gate of the stable and buried her face in her hands. "I can't help it, it really feels this way. Whatever he does, it's always the exact right thing." She looked at Regis desperately. "And what do I have to offer in return? Nothing. And to make matters worse, since I have less than nothing, I'm afraid he'll think that I'm just using him because I got nowhere else to go. He deserves better than that, the best. And that can't possibly be me."

Regis nodded slowly, solemnly. "It's a shame you haven't known him for longer. Because then you'd maybe realize the positive influence you have on him. Sometimes, what you can give to others cannot be put in words nor weighted in gold. You worry entirely too much." He heard the sudden flutter of her heat.

"Unknown forces are manipulating me. I don't think I can worry enough." Still, he noticed, his words had put a smile on her lips.

"Worry about those then but not about your witcher. Don't forget: He's a grown man, he should have a say in this."

She laughed to herself. "I feel silly."

Before Regis could answer, she continued: "Did you know that people in my world on average live up to the age of 85 years? Children born nowadays are supposed to easily become 100 years old," she tried to change the topic.

Even in the darkness Regis could see that her head was glowing red. He decided to let the matter go.

"Fascinating. How is this possible?" he asked instead.

"Better nourishment and hygiene, for once. And then there is the groundbreaking stuff, like, say… heart transplants. But if that's not exciting enough for you I can tell you a little about how humans sent autonomously working machines to other planets."

"Other planets? Those planets?" Regis pointed at the sky, unable to conceal his astonishment.

The sun was already starting to rise by the time Kit snuck back into the house. Geralt, still sleeping soundly, stirred and wrapped himself around her again as soon as she crawled into the bed. She looked at his sleeping face. When she lightly brushed her fingers over his cheek and the small scar on his forehead, she felt strong hands stroking her back through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

"I could do this all my life," she whispered before she cuddled against his chest and fell asleep.

Geralt had been desperate many times in his life. He had dealt with impossible decisions in impossible situations. His current predicament led him to do the perhaps most desperate, most outrageous thing he had ever attempted. In any case, it was certainly the most ridiculous thing he had ever done for anyone.

When Kit woke up late in the morning, she let her hands wander but suddenly had to realize that she was alone in bed. Confused and drowsy she lifted her head and surveilled the empty room. It was then that she noticed the smell of something burned. Quickly she went down the stairs to find Geralt sitting at the dining table, looking grumpily at the source of the smell: Something charred in a metal pan.

"Please tell me that's the bard," Kit said when she approached him. Geralt, arms crossed in front of his chest and slouched into a chair, lifted one corner of his mouth into a smile without raising his gaze.

Only when Kit took a closer look at the pan did she understand what she saw: "Is that a pie?"

Geralt nodded.

"You tried to bake?" she uttered in disbelief, just to realize upon closer inspection: "An apple pie?"

He grunted in a way that he hoped would be understood as confirmation.

"Why? What did the pie do to you?"

Geralt sighed. "You said your friend always made apple pie for you when you were sad. I asked Marlene to help me make one. But I left it in the oven for too long." To say that Geralt was unhappy would have been a massive understatement. Not only had he left the bed early instead of spending the morning huddled up to Kit, making sure to breathe in her smell, touch her soft skin and enjoy the shudders she sent through his body. He had also failed to make this one thing for her to make her feel better, ironically because he was daydreaming about still being in bed with her.

"For me?" Only when he heard how shaky Kit's voice was, did he look at her. Tears started to well up in her eyes again. That was not how this was supposed to go, he thought. I wanted to make her happy, not make her cry about a damn pie.

"Sorry, thought it was a good idea, should have known…" What he should have known, Kit never found out. Because when she approached him, placed one knee on the chair between his legs and cupped his face, he immediately forgot what he had wanted to say.

"Thank you," she whispered. Kit left him exactly enough time to register that she smiled, that any tear would be a happy tear, before she pressed her lips on his. It was a chaste kiss and she pulled back immediately. But it was more than enough to make Geralt long for more. He could feel her energy lingering on his lips like an afterthought. He pulled her onto his lap, kissing away a tear on her cheek.

"One word from you, and I'll burn as many pies as you want," he said earnestly, still a little befuddled about the fact that burned food seemed to be the appropriate gesture of fondness that would elicit a kiss from her.

She laughed briefly, as she rested her forehead against his and then kissed him again.

The storm that suddenly raged through Geralt's body was divine. The way she sucked at his lips sent shivers down his spine even though he felt like he had lost his form, felt like he melted into her mouth completely, without spine, without bones. The light caress of her fingertips on his neck drove him nearly insane, it was just too much to handle. When he tasted the salt of another tear on his tongue, he finally woke from his rigor and wrapped his hands around her back, holding her tightly against his body. He invaded her mouth, bit her lips and moaned quietly when she did the same to him. That small part of him, that had not drowned in the flurry of her energy, wondered if he was too rough, too demanding. But he could not have stopped himself even if he had wanted to. And by the way her hands were buried in his hair and how she was arching against him, he was certain that she did not want anything to stop.

He enjoyed looking at her with her flushed cheeks, breathing heavy, lips a little swollen.

"Had I known, I would have burned that damned pie ages ago," he said, looking at her in wonder.

She pressed one more kiss on his lips before she buried her face in the side of his neck. Then she started to chuckle.

"I don't even like apple pie."

"But didn't you tell me…" Geralt was confused.

"That my friend made it for me? Yes. But she was never able to remember that I don't like pie. I never ate it, always gave it away." She looked at him, rubbing her nose against his. "It's the thought that counts."

"So," he looked to the ground awkwardly, "do I need to burn more food whenever I want to kiss you or how does this work?" His question was serious because he truly did not know. After all, her world seemed to be such an odd place.

Regis returned to Nilfgaard later that day with a promise to return should he find out anything that could potentially be helpful. He made Geralt swear to keep him updated on how things evolved. Before he left, he pulled Kit aside.

"You, my dear, are handling yourself very well," he whispered. "Remarkably well."

"I assume of all people here you are the one who has the experience to judge," she said with a half-smile.

Regis chuckled. "I hate to admit it but I managed much worse at times. And unlike you I was not the only one of my kind to be stranded here, my situation was much better than yours. Technically, I have never even been to my home world, I was born here. But being surrounded by its energy in the form of all those vampires who came from there… It was tough." His face assumed a serious expression. "From one involuntary world-traveler to another, let me give you a piece of advice: Rely on the people around you. Don't make this so hard on yourself."

Her lips twitched. "I'll have to stand on my own feet eventually."

"Eventually, you will. But, as hard as it is, try to find happiness when you can. Nobody is expecting you to figure things out within just a few days. I'm not going to lie to you, it's hard. Even after all these years I still miss the place that should have been my home." He held out his hand and she took it. "There is beauty to be found everywhere. Don't be like me, don't close your eyes to it for too long. It unnecessarily prolongs the suffering."

She nodded and gave a small smile. "I'll try. Thank you, Regis."

To his utter surprise, she hugged him.

"And remember your promise: I expect letters from you. We stopped at x-rays yesterday. And, of course, any news concerning you will be gladly received." He bowed before he dissolved into smoke. Kit rubbed her eyes in confusion when the smoke wafted away rapidly.

Dandelion had decided to stay for a while. "The weather in Novigrad at the moment is dreadful."

Much to Geralt's surprise he offered to help with the harvest. "Are you all right?" he asked with a doubtful glance at his friend when the bard exchanged his colorful doublet for something sturdier and put on a hat to avoid being sunburned.

Dandelion just shrugged his shoulders. He did not care for the harvest the least but he still felt awful for the interrogation that he had put Kit through. It was no coincidence then that he found himself opposite of her, cutting the grapes off the vines and dropping them in to a basket at his feet.

"How much do you hate me?" he asked, not looking at her.

"Less than you think, probably," she replied after a short moment of silence.

"Again, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said any of these things but…"

"Oh, please stop it! You're making me feel uncomfortable. I'm not going to eat Geralt, okay? He will remain in one piece, unhurt. By me at least, I do not guarantee for what's happening to him on the job."

Dandelion chuckled. "Am I forgiven then?"

"Only if you stop pestering me with apologies. And stop staring at me like a beaten dog. You have been doing that for far too long now, it drives me crazy." Dandelion could see her smile through the vines. He liked that she accepted his apology without him having to actually say the words. Not at all like Yennefer, he realized with relief. Who knew, maybe Geralt had finally done something right.

"Will you allow me one last piece of advice? Please?" Silence.

"Are you going to tell me or are you going to make me guess?"

"You do like him, I know that." Silence. "But if you don't tell him he'll never understand."

"I actually told him just this morning."

"You did?" The bard eyed her through the greenery between them. "So, you're good now?"

"I think…"

"You think? Our dear witcher is a little thick at times. You should make sure he really understands, otherwise this isn't going anywhere." Dandelion sighed dramatically, thinking back to all those moments they had touched and looked at each other. While initially he had been worried, his doubts had been sufficiently dispelled. "The two of you are fun. You are equals when it comes to hiding your emotions. You are a perfect fit actually. You are so emotionally challenged and insecure… It's not quite fun, not quite torture watching you dance around each other. So, in the name of all the gods, make sure he understands. You need to be loud and clear."

Kit coughed. "Do you think putting my tongue in his mouth was clear enough?"

Dandelion choked on the grape he had popped into his mouth just a second prior to hearing this.

"When did that happen? How comes I didn't know?" he asked while still coughing, his face beet red.

Kit rolled her eyes. "Are you sure Geralt's the one who's a little thick? I just told you, it happened this morning."

The bard scratched his head. "You are very hard to read, do you know that?" Nothing about her had given him as much as a hint that something had changed. And Dandelion prided himself in sniffing these things out faster than anybody else he knew.

"Well, I'm not a book, I'm not supposed to be read," Kit huffed.

"Huh. That was unexpected," he murmured. "Unexpectedly fast. I thought I'd have to watch you guys torture each other a bit longer."

"Well… It seems like everybody's favorite hobby here is to get involved in things that are not at all their business. So, I decided to take up some advice."

"About time," Dandelion agreed. "It was painful to watch."

Kit poked her head through the vines. "I would love to see how you handled things in my situation. How would it go for you? You are stranded in a new world and do what? Write a song about your little feelings?" And for some reason the two of them started to laugh.

After dinner, Kit had made it a habit to withdraw into the bedroom with a few books. "I need to learn more about what's out there," she said. Geralt had noticed how the sadness and despair, that had surrounded her, seemed to disappear rather quickly and were replaced by newly strengthened resolution. He was not certain if she was actually feeling better or if she just got better at hiding her sadness. But for now, he decided, he was not going to bother her.

In the evenings, when the sun had set and he was done with all the heavy lifting and fixing equipment to make sure the harvest would go off without a hitch, he always returned to find Kit having fallen asleep over her books. He would then pry whatever book she was holding out of her hands to put it aside, and then pull her into his arms. It made him genuinely happy when she held onto him as tightly as she had onto her book.

It was just a few days into the harvest when Kit returned for a midday break to Corvo Bianco. The sun had reached its devilish peak again and all the workers postponed their work until the afternoon. She, Dandelion and Geralt were having a quick lunch on the small terrace next to the house when Barnabas-Basil caught their attention with a slight cough.

Geralt gave him a quick look. "News from the palace?" he assumed.

"Indeed, Master Geralt. Not for you though, for Miss Kit."

"Me?" She stared at him in shock. "Shit, what did I do?"

"The Duchess wishes to invite you for tea. Preferably at your earliest convenience."

Kit looked at Geralt. "Maybe someone informed her about my rants about democracy? Is this the usual procedure here? A tea with the Duchess before your execution?"

"Believe me, if you had angered her in any way she would not waste time with tea," Dandelion commented drily.

"And you know that because?"

"She sent me to be executed about… Mh, how many times, Geralt? Five?"

Geralt shrugged. "I stopped counting after the third time."

"How are you still alive then?" Kit stared at him in disbelieve.

"What can I say? I am irresistible." Dandelion smiled, wallowing in his narcissism.

"Geralt?"

"Temporary insanity. On the Duchess' side I mean. Otherwise she would have pulled through. Which you'd think she did after all these times he cheated on her…"

"Don't cheat on the Duchess, noted. But I'm getting strong Queen of Hearts-vibes from this." She made an unhappy face. "Off with her head!" she mumbled to herself.

Geralt hummed unhappily when he chewed on the crust of some bread. The pain in his jaw had returned, his gums were swollen again where there used to be a tooth. He tried to keep himself from feeling the spot with his tongue but to no avail.

"What's wrong?" Dandelion asked.

"Must have inflamed gums or something." He kept feeling around. "Feels like I cut myself, it has opened up. Something doesn't feel right."

"The witcher needs a dentist," Kit remarked with amusement in her voice. "Show me, open your mouth."

She put one hand on the side of Geralt's face and turned his head to the sun to inspect his mouth.

"Hm." Her face assumed a confused expression.

"What?"

"The books must have skipped over this." Kit chuckled. "Didn't think I'd ever say this to someone who is older than 100 but… congratulations, baby, you're teething."

"Baby?" Geralt looked at her in confusion.

Kit shrugged. "Only babies start teething. By that logic… Seems like we'll finally figure out what life is like with a witcher baby after all." She chuckled.

"There is a tooth growing? In his mouth?" Dandelion had accidentally spat his wine over the table.

"Well, it's not growing out of his ass… so, yes."

Geralt massaged his jaw. "I lost that tooth in Oxenfurt, back in the day when we were hunting Rience. Do you remember?"

Dandelion nodded. "Eventful night."

"You knocked out a tooth?" Kit asked.
"No, I broke it when one of his spells threw me against a wall. It was inflamed and I had to have it removed later on."

Kit shuddered. "When was that?"

"20 years ago? Maybe more."

"So, is it normal for witchers to grow back teeth?"

Geralt sighed. "I'm leaning towards no. But really, who knows? I have no idea what experiments they did on me back in the day. Maybe soon I'll be growing third teeth all around?"

"Guess we'll be feeding you soup and mush for a while." Dandelion laughed. Kit tried to retain a serious face but was not quite successful.

"Poor baby," she whispered and then pressed a quick kiss on his lips.

When the time came they rode to the palace. While Geralt bowed to the Duchess as was customary, Kit just stood there dumbstruck. Anna Henrietta however was in a good mood and did not mind.

"Master Witcher," she greeted him before she focused her attention on Kit. "What's your name, my dear?" she asked.

"It's Kit, your… grace?"

"Kit? What a peculiar name." She eyed her curiously while she walked around her in a circle with an implicitness that was common only to people in power. When the Duchess seemed satisfied, she asked them to sit down at a little table that had been prepared with a tea set and an assortment of biscuits.

"You are probably wondering why we called for you."

"Yes, that's one way to say it." The Duchess was smiling warmly but after all Kit had heard about her, she was not easily reassured.

"Well, the matter is the following one. I am about to marry again."

"Congratulations?" Kit asked more than said. "But what does that have to do with me?"

"I am looking for a few dresses to wear for the occasion. I saw you at the wine festival. Your gown was very… peculiar. Much too simple, I thought. But the longer I looked at it, the more I liked it." In fact, it had been some women of her court who had drawn her attention to the dress. And if there was a new fashionable style, the Duchess certainly would not be the last one to pick up on it.

"Oh." Kit's eyes grew large. "It's just that I don't like dresses that take a lot of effort to put on and take off." Anna Henrietta chuckled.

She must be in love, Geralt thought, who had never before seen her this even-tempered. Then again, who could resent her for that? Being the Duchess of the dreamiest state on the continent put her under a lot of pressure, even in times without a massive, coordinated vampire attack.

"It took us a while to figure out who made it. Imagine our disappointment when we learned that a local tailor had made but not created it. But then again we were not much surprised to find out that the creator was the woman who tamed the White Wolf."

"I don't think anybody or anything has been tamed." Anxiously Kit looked at Geralt who said nothing, just watched the situation with a sly smile on his face.

The Duchess smiled knowingly. "Maybe that is better," she mused. "Either way, I invited you to make you a proposal: Come up with a few options for my wedding. My personal tailor will make them according to your designs. Regardless of whether or not I end up wearing one of your dresses, I will pay you handsomely. And if this turns out to be working for the both of us, I would like you to create dresses for me on a regular basis."

Kit stared at her dumbstruck again. "Are you… Are you offering me a job?"

"Yes. I realize that with Geralt by your side you don't need to work but I think it would be a shame if you kept your talent to yourself. The wedding will be in November, that doesn't leave you much time, hence my invitation on such a short notice. But I was hoping that you would be able to work something out nevertheless."

Geralt was about to interject, but Kit forestalled. "Absolutely."

And that was that.

Slightly shaking Kit slumped down on a bench after they had crossed the bridge away from the palace. Geralt could hear her heart beating frantically.

"Everything all right?" he asked when he sat down next to her.

She laughed. "All right? It's more than all right, it's perfect!" She let herself fall to the side, so she could rest her head on his shoulder. "I'm so relieved! You can't even imagine… I can't believe my luck!" She laughed excitedly.

"Because you get to keep your head and fantasize about, what was it, heads of state that are elected by the people?" He smiled at this silly notion.

She looked at him in confusion and shook her head. "No. Because I've got a job now. Kind of, at least. A job that I'm not at all qualified for but nobody will know because I have centuries of fashion history to fall back on to make this work. I'm already feeling bad for stealing all those ideas but… Hell, I don't care. I'm just so… so relived!" She smiled. "It feels like I'm getting a part of myself back. Taking care of yourself as a woman is normal, for me, my world, I mean. But I was always proud of not having to rely on anyone. And now I feel like I can be that person again."

Geralt could practically feel the relieve and happiness washing over her. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, trying his best to fake a smile. He was not quite sure what to think. He, too, was relieved to see her happy. She wanted independence from him, probably needed it. And now that she had secured an income, there was no reason for her to be afraid anymore that he might kick her out.

The witcher sighed. It was him who was afraid now. Afraid that she would just leave now that she could afford to. While he certainly only wished the best for her, the idea pained him greatly. Magic touch or not, he had gotten used to enjoying her presence. Her understanding. Her unconditional acceptance of him and his nature. It seemed unlikely to him that the hole she would leave could be filled easily. Or at all.

"Why are you looking so glum, White Wolf?" she baited him, raising her head, putting one hand on the side of his face so he would look at her.

"If you work for her that probably means even more festivities with uncomfortable clothing for me in the future," he lied. She smiled but he had no idea why.

"What?" he asked.

"Does that mean you'll be there with me?" She was practically glowing with excitement. He was not quite sure what he had done to spark this happiness, but he was glad anyway.

"Where else would I be? You still won't ride by yourself, so…" He stopped when he felt her thumb caressing his cheek before she pulled him closer to kiss him. She wrapped her arms around this neck and pressed her body to his. He willingly gave in, forgetting whatever he had been about to say. Her soft lips and her silky tongue turned him into a willing recipient for her affections. He ran his fingers across her back, always making sure her lithe body was pressed flush against his as he wanted nothing in between them. Geralt even managed to coax a little moan out of her which made him shudder, made him want to give her everything he had to offer. He relished all their kisses during those past few days, remembering every single one of them. Tempting as it was, he had never pressed her for more. He wanted her with every fiber of his being but it had to be her call – something he was adamant about, no matter how straining the attempts to control his lust had become.

But this one feels different, Geralt suddenly thought. Her energy whirring around and through him, though strong and, weirdly, liberated, brought a tension with it. A tension, that demanded a specific type of relief for all of that had built up between them.