Note: One chapter in three parts, split in very stupid ways.

Of exes, a grape and involuntary vermin – April 1286 (1/3)

"So cold." Kit's teeth chattered as she climbed off Nugget. "That was so unnecessary."

Geralt silently agreed as he cursed the sky and the downpour it had cast on them not even half an hour before they had reached their destination. Now the setting sun shone innocently and as if they were not drenched to the bone. The fresh April breeze bit into their skins.

"Gonna be warm inside. Just a few more minutes," he comforted Kit as they walked through the southernmost gate into Novigrad, their horses in tow.

As old habits die hard, Geralt set his eyes on one of the many noticeboards nearby and quickly glanced over it in search of suitable work before he remembered that these times had long passed. But as it turned out, there was not much to find anyway. Someone had lost their cat, someone else complained about some vegetables having been stolen from their little garden patch behind the house. The vast majority of the board however was covered in missing person notices, most of them related to children. While that was not unusual per se, he wondered if he had ever seen so many at once.

Another cold breeze made him forget his thoughts immediately.

They navigated around the bigger pools of mud that looked like they were about to drown them should they dare to step into them. The muddy streets, not quite as busy as Geralt had remembered them from his last visit, squelched beneath their boots as if trying to suck them in. A ragpicker managed to shower them in more mud when he pushed his cart heedlessly into a puddle right next to them.

Geralt grumbled and would have liked to ask the man to be more careful in a way that only witchers could. But he was not in a mood to make enemies on his first night in the big city.

"Wait a moment," Kit suddenly called out and stopped to rummage in one of her saddlebags. Geralt raised his eyebrows, wondering what for she had fumbled out the gold coins with fingers that, he was sure, were stiff from the cold.

She lumbered away from him and Nugget, the mud trying to pull the boots off her too slender ankles, towards a little girl that was halfway hidden beneath a protrusion in the city wall – one of the few places where one could protect themselves from the rain and that were ideal locations for begging.

Geralt watched as Kit handed the girl the golden coins. The scrawny little thing, probably about five years old, looked up to Kit, one blue eye wide in surprise and brimming with tears, shining from beneath of mop of hair so dirty you could hardly tell that it was red. The other eye, hastily hidden behind some uneven cut bangs, socket empty, had been sewn shut years ago by the looks of it.

Kit said something to the little girl before she turned around and gave Geralt a quick glance, only to lower her gaze and grab Nugget's reins again.

The girl looked at the coins in her hand and then quickly scrambled away.

Geralt eyed Kit curiously but said nothing.

Together they moved on and Geralt led her into the stable behind the Chameleon.

"I can't quite bring myself to like Novigrad."

"Because of the rain?" Geralt asked.

"That too. But mostly for the smells." She wrinkled her nose as she said it. She leaned against Nugget, her cheek resting against the horse's neck, hugging herself, as she watched Geralt removing Roach's bridle.

"Spoken like a true country woman." He chuckled. "It's disgusting though."

The noise, the smell. For some reason he always associated the big cities with the smell of shit. Geralt disliked the cities for what they were. He missed the fresh air of the forests and Corvo Bianco. The stable was not bad though. The smell of warm, dry hay had something comforting about it.

"Have you seen all the children in the streets, begging? Is it always like this? I could have sworn there weren't nearly as many when we were here last time." Sad blue eyes found his. Geralt had wondered whether or not she would want to talk about it after the incident with the girl.

He usually tried his best not to dwell on these kinds of things. But after Kit had involuntarily drawn his attention to the girl with the missing eye and the red hair, he too had started to notice the other begging children.

"It was different in your in your world." Geralt remembered the comparably tidy streets and the handful of people – out of thousands - he had seen begging. Kit had not yet been with him for four years and still had a lot to get used to. Nowadays, it was hardly ever the big things that caught her attention anymore, but the small things, the ones that Geralt himself did not actively perceive most of the time.

"We have people begging for food and money too, but not usually kids." She sighed, hugging her horse before finally proceeding to remove the saddle. "This girl, the way she looked. It's haunting me... I wish I could do more for her."

"Later. Nobody's gonna save the world in one day, you keep telling me that." He pried her away from Nugget and put his arm around her shoulders. "Come on. You can bemoan the state of the world once you're dry. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold." He placed a kiss on the crown of her head as they left the stables.

It was not that he did not care – the witcher always did. But long ago he had decided to focus on the monsters that he was able to fight. And poverty was not one of them.

When they entered the Chameleon, it was empty save for Dandelion, who mulled over a ledger on one of the tables, and a maid cleaning dishes behind the bar. The poet lifted his head as soon as the wooden door fell shut behind the visitors.

"Geralt! Kit! You made it, finally!" He got up to greet them with a wide smile and hugs. "I see, your timing is impeccable, as always," he assessed as he felt their wet clothes. "But don't worry, I had them make a fire just a few hours ago, your room should be cozy by now. And yes, before you ask, the tub has already been filled."

"Oh Dandelion, you are my favorite pain in the ass, have I ever told you that?" Kit smiled, seemingly having left the thought of the girl behind, as she gave the poet a quick kiss on the cheek.

"The things I do for women with horrible taste in men," he answered, accompanied, as always, by a sarcastic eyeroll.

"Hey," Geralt interjected indignantly.

Dandelion and Kit grinned before she added: "While I do enjoy our bickering very much, I enjoy it much more in dry clothes. Maybe we can continue this later? Or tomorrow even? I'm not sure I have the energy to dress again and pretend that I'm not completely done for."

"First floor, last room on the right. I'll have someone bring up some more fire wood. That is, if I can find the personnel I hired for that job," he snorted. "Good staff is so hard to find nowadays."

"As are good bards, and yet, we make do with what we have," Geralt shrugged.

"Uh, no, my dear witcher, you don't get to make these comments. That's between me and the ice queen. You are supposed to be my friend. So, stop it."

"Someone's getting touchy with age…" Kit murmured.

Geralt raised his hands in defeat. "I don't understand why she's allowed to do this but I'm not."

"The world isn't fair, my friend."

Once they had reached their room, the warmth of it engulfing them and making Geralt's frozen muscles scream in frustration, he carelessly discarded their luggage on the floor. Kit immediately started to peel out of her soaked coat and everything beneath it, teeth still chattering. Before she could do anything else, Geralt had grabbed her and sat her on a table, immediately wrapping a big towel around her. She sighed in relieve, eyes closed, as Geralt carefully rubbed it over her damp, ice-cold skin.

"Water?" she suggested.

Geralt took a moment to cast igni towards the bathtub right next to them, before he continued to rub some warmth into her. Kit lowered one hand into the tub but withdrew it immediately, hissing.

"I think this temperature works just fine for cooking lobsters." Geralt shuddered as she held her hand, heated up by the water, against the side of his neck. "For you it might be just about right."

He hummed in agreement. Unless the water was actually boiling, he was fine.

"Guess I was too excited and overshot the mark a little."

"A little? You overshot by at least," she quickly measured the size of the tub by eye, "50 lobsters."

Geralt smiled and continued drying her off to make up for his mistake. "We'll just wait for the water to cool down a bit."

"You should get out of your wet things, too," Kit suggested after a while, her voice barely above a whisper as she had started to melt under his ministrations.

"Your wish is my command," he answered as he clumsily started to remove everything but his pants. The soaked leather pants were a nightmare he intended to deal with once he deemed the lovely woman in front of him sufficiently dry and warmed up.

He returned to carefully padding her hair dry with the towel as he felt her sag against his chest. Her now warmer arms wrapped around him, her rosy cheek resting against his chest, her warm breath tickling his skin - such a welcome change from the cold that was so ingrained in him, it seemed to emanate right from his bones. Kit's energy rushed over him in waves, the feeling so heavenly that he nearly forgot that he was freezing. He closed his eyes. From where she touched him, warmth spread through him, wonderful but slow like molten iron.

He noticed how she twisted her head, her lips suddenly grazing the skin of his throat before she placed a kiss on the side of his neck and then another, nipping at him ever so tenderly.

Geralt used the towel to pull her closer to him until her upper body was flush against his. So warm, she was so wonderfully warm, he thought as the feeling slowly spread through his body.

The tip of his cold nose followed the contours of her face, eyebrows, nose, cheek until he finally placed his lips on hers. Kit tightened her grip around his back, straightening her spine so he would not have to bend down so much.

"You're still too cold," she remarked briefly, not removing her lips from his but instead wrapping her naked legs around his hips, pulling a surprised grunt from Geralt.

"How about you warm me up?"

Kit could not see the spark in his eyes but the way he nibbled at her ear and pushed his lower half against her was hard to ignore. He noticed her accelerated heartbeat and the goosebumps on her skin as he let his fingers trail over her upper arm, the towel slowly slipping away.

"Cold and stiff," she corrected herself as his lips wandered over her throat, nipping at the delicate skin, whereas his hand trailed over the valley of her hips.

"I'm sure I can be warm and stiff in no time if you prefer it that way," he mumbled, lips pressed against her ear. Another shiver. How he loved getting these reactions out of her. They were all the confirmation he needed to know that the strange, beautiful creature from another world adored him as much as he adored her.

"Come on, white lobster, get into the bath. I feel like I'm trying to make out with an ice cube."

A while after the newly arrived visitors were headed to their room, the door to the Chameleon opened again.

"What a sight for sore eyes, as always radiant as the sun herself!" Dandelion gushed when the woman removed the hood of her cape and revealed the shiny red hair beneath.

"Dandelion! How good it is to see you!" She hugged the poet.

"Your visit, while most welcome, is unexpected. Say, Triss, what brings you here?"

She chuckled, all too familiar with the bard's peculiar mix of curiosity and impatience.

"Nothing in particular, just a few errands. I happened to be in the area and decided to make a little detour, see if you are still doing fine or if your creditors already got to you."

"Believe it or not, but those days are over," he replied somewhat huffy. "I have, as they say, diversified my portfolio. I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

"Is there room for a drink with a friend in that… diversified portfolio?" Triss asked with the sweetest smile on her lips that both she and Dandelion knew he would not be able to resist.

"Always. So much room actually that we're not going to drink alone. You are not my only visitor today. Geralt and-"

"Geralt is here?" she sorceress cut him off, clearly surprised by the unexpected news. Dandelion saw the sudden spark in her eyes. She has not quite given up, he thought and nodded.

"The white wolf in the flesh."

"What a nice surprise. I haven't heard from him in a few years." She clapped her hands excitedly. "I wish the others were here too. Just like in the old days."

The poet nodded yet again. It had been a while since all of them had been gathered around a table, sharing stories, hopes and dirty jokes.

"Where is he anyway?" Triss interrupted his thoughts.

"Upstairs, just arrived. Got into the rain, probably still drying off."

"I think I'll quickly say hello."

"I don't think now is a good time…"

"Hogwash! Now is a time as good as ever," Triss insisted with a big smile on her face.

The back door opened and a young girl in a tattered dress entered the room. The only part about her that did not seem to be caked in dirt was the light blue scarf she was wearing in her hair, something that Dandelion had repeatedly marveled about in the past few days since he had hired Delilah.

"Master Dandelion, I got the firewood you asked for. Shall I bring it upstairs to the witcher's room?" the girl asked with a squeaky voice while struggling with a basket full of logs that threatened to make her topple over.

"Let me handle that, little one," Triss said sweetly as she rushed to grab the basket from the girl's hands.

"First floor, last room on the right, my lady," the girl mumbled, too shy to look the pretty sorceress in the eyes. "Thank you," she added, bowing a little.

"Triss, you really shouldn't…" Dandelion tried to stop her but the sudden sound of breaking glass near the bar caught his attention.

"Can't wait," Triss called smiling as she took the stairs.

Dandelion pinched the root of his nose. "That surely means we are off to a good start." He sat down again and buried his face in his hands, anticipating… Well, he did not quite know what he anticipated.

Had Triss been less excited and had not her blood rushed in her ears, she might have noticed that her timing was less than stellar. But she was not and she did not. So, when she opened the door without knocking, she found herself quite surprised.

Geralt was there – which was to be expected. Triss however froze in place when she realized that he was not alone but with a woman. The woman, partially covered with a towel that was draped around her neck, was sitting on the edge of a table, her legs dangling in the wooden bathtub right next to it. Geralt, sitting inside said tub, leaned against its frame in between the womans' spread legs, his head tipped back and resting on her belly as she washed his hair, one muscular arm slung around her naked thigh. He hummed and moaned, eyes closed, as the woman ran her fingers through the familiar white strands.

"… wouldn't call you white wolf anymore if they knew you purred like a kitten." The woman chuckled as she said it.

"Call me kitten, call me whatever, just don't stop," the witcher sighed.

Triss took all of this in in just an instant. Neither Geralt nor the woman had noticed her but once the sorceresses' brain had caught up with the situation and she realized the degree of her intrusion, she quietly closed the door and carefully placed the basket in front of it. She breathed out, then suddenly, had to fight against the urge to laugh out loud. She was not entirely sure why.

Triss did not quite grasp that and when she had started to descent the stairs. When she arrived at the base, she looked through the taproom slightly disoriented.

"I tried to warn you," Dandelion informed her without looking up from his ledger.

"Couldn't you have warned me a little more… intensely? Even by Geralt's standards that was quick. How did he manage to pick up a harlot between here and the gate?" She plopped down on a chair next to him and lowered her forehead onto the table. "So embarrassing."

She turned her face towards the poet, an air of defeat surrounding her.

"I don't think they noticed me. But maybe I should just leave anyway. Please don't tell him!" she pleaded.

Dandelion sighed and shut the heavy book with an audible clap.

"Triss, my dear, you need to stay. This is much too funny not to see it play out." When he saw how the sorceress tried to hide within herself, he continued: "Don't worry. It's certainly not that bad."

"They were… taking a bath."

Dandelion patted her shoulder.

"I'm sure Geralt doesn't mind some audience. If his stories are to be believed, he must be rather used to it. And Kit's quite forgiving."

"Kit?" Triss raised her head, her pretty brows elevated in surprise.

"That's her name. And for your own sake I suggest you don't refer to her as a harlot in the future. I know Geralt has a soft spot for you but I have an inkling that that could change quickly if you insult his fiancée in front of his eyes."

"Fiancée? As in…"

"Committed relationship."

Triss seemed to have trouble to wrap her head around this new piece of information.

"Our Geralt… in a relationship with a woman who is not Yennefer?" she finally asked, her face somewhat paler than before.

Dandelion nodded curtly and cursed Geralt silently. Why did he have to be the one to break the news to his ex who they all knew would never give up on him?

"It's been nearly four years now," Dandelion added to make sure there were no misunderstandings.

"That doesn't sound like Geralt at all…"

Dandelion knew Triss well enough to understand how this new piece of information would affect her. For years she had tried and failed to bind the witcher to her. And now a stranger had taken the place she desired. But there was no way to soften the blow and while the poet was very endeared with the sorceress with the fiery red hair, he did want to make sure everything was as clear as possible so that no false hopes were fueled.

He chuckled, trying to overplay the severity of the situation. "That's what I thought too. I was absolutely certain she had bewitched him."

"She is a sorceress?" Triss' eyes widened in surprise. Geralt really had a type, she thought.

"No, she's not," a familiar gravelly voice interrupted their conversation. "Hello Triss."

"Geralt," the color had drained from Triss' face. Still, she got up to greet him. When she looked at him, a soft smile had returned to his features. His still damp hair was dripping on his shirt, reminding Triss yet again of what had just happened.

"You look good." The sentence had escaped her mouth before she could stop herself. It was only then that she noticed that he actually did look exceptionally good tonight. Younger somehow, if that was even possible. His facial scars seemed to have faded a little and even the creases on his forehead and around his eyes, those eyes that still radiated the familiar warmth and gentleness, seemed less pronounced.

"So do you."

Geralt was woefully unprepared for this meeting. He knew it would have happened at some point but he had not anticipated that it would be this soon.

"Hadn't expected to run into you here. How have you been?" Geralt asked as he sat down on the table next to Dandelion. The poet waved for a maid to bring them some beer.

"Life is good," Triss answered after short consideration. "Kovir is going strong, no power struggles for once. Life at court is… well, exactly what it always has been." She hesitated briefly. "But you… you settled down." She had to know, she just had to…

Geralt noticed how her heart had started to beat faster and was only too familiar with the expression she wore. After he had broken up with Yennefer, he and Triss had met up repeatedly, sometimes even spent a few weeks together. But there had never been anything that drew him to her enough to follow her to Kovir. A voice in his head reminded him of her betrayal in the past and he could never shut it out completely. Hence, he had broken her heart every single time he had sent her back to court alone. He had never enjoyed it though. While her behavior had been despicable, he had forgiven her a long time ago. There was no point in holding a grudge, especially since she had changed for the better. But holding a grudge was very different from feeling unable to trust someone completely.

Geralt only nodded. There was no need for further elaboration.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

He nodded again.

"It's good to see you," Geralt added, trying to distract from the topic at hand.

Triss smiled but despite her best efforts it did not reach her eyes.

"I had been thinking about visiting you for a while."

"You're always welcome."

"Talking about being welcome: Do you have a room for me?" Triss asked the poet in order to change to another topic.

"You are in luck, I'm only expecting rooms to fill up next week. I just wish you had told me sooner; the rooms are dreadfully cold as of now." Dandelion looked around, searching for something.

"You do realize that I am a sorceress or have you forgotten about that?" she deadpanned.

"Of course not. But what a host would I be to expect you to magic warmth into the room that I'm offering you as my guest." He looked around. "Delilah? Girl, where are you?"

No response. "I'm telling you, good staff is so hard to find," he bemoaned the absence of his personnel.

Triss looked at the young girl behind the bar, giving Dandelion a critical stare. "Have you ever considered not to hire children?"

"I don't have options at the moment." Looking at the two clueless faces, Dandelion explained:

"Emhyr has been drawing men from all over the country, trying to strengthen the borders. No one is safe, not in the cities, not in the countryside." Dandelion sighed. "They get a salary but it appears most use it to drink away the fear. Either way, it doesn't reach their families, leaving their wives in charge to take care of everything. Meaning many can't work and sent their older children to beg or to work. I swear this city has never been as miserable as it is now." It was rare for Dandelion to complain about the state of the, in his opinion, greatest city in the world. That alone made it clear that the situation was dire.

"This would never have happened if Ciri was here," Triss interjected. "Has any of you heard from her recently?"

Geralt shook his head. "Haven't heard from her in years. Wrote a few times, never got an answer." He pressed his lips together into a thin line. Surely, she was fine, she could look after herself. The fact that no news about her had reached anywhere recently surely meant she was travelling outside of this world. At least that was what Geralt told himself. But there was no way for him to find out. And he would always worry for his little girl.

"No, haven't seen her in ages," Dandelion agreed.

"Me neither," Triss added.

"You don't happen to know a spell to locate or contact her?" Geralt asked, pretty sure about the answer already.

"If only it was that easy…" She shook her head. "But talking about people being in different places: To what does Novigrad owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Geralt sighted, thankful for the change of topic.

"The golden grape."

"I'm not sure I understand." Triss cocked her head.

"The witcher has become a vintner and will attempt to partake in Novigrad's first annual wine competition with his very own White Wolf," Dandelion explained. "By the way, how comes Eskel and the wine got here two days before you?"

"Made a few little detours, to show Kit some stuff on the way," Geralt lied without missing a beat. Of course, they had done nothing of the sort, unless his excited cock counted as 'stuff on the way'. They had gotten stuck in a cozy inn for a few days and a very naked and otherwise convincing Kit had gotten him to agree to extend their break. For two days they left their room only to eat, the constant heavy rain drowning out most of their sounds.

Had it not been for the presence of Triss, surely Dandelion would have gotten the truth out of him. But instead the bard contended himself with raising an eyebrow and then nodded.

"Did I understand that correctly? There is a wine competition and you'll be participating?" the sorceress asked.

Geralt nodded. "It seemed like a good opportunity: advertise our wine and travel, show Kit something new."

At the sound of the unfamiliar woman's name, Triss' smile wavered for a moment.

"Where is Eskel by the way?" Geralt wondered suddenly.

"Investigating. The captain of the city guard posted a contract."

"What about?"

Dandelion shrugged. "Personal vendetta, I think. Some practical joker going on a rampage, smearing unwanted art all over the place."

"And why exactly does the captain of the guard concern himself with that?"

The poet grinned. "Because the common theme of the artworks in question are unflattering descriptions and measurements of his manhood."

"Sounds more like a scorned lover than anything of interest for a witcher," Geralt scoffed.

"I'm betting five crowns that Eskel has already found her and is on his way to become her next street art project," Triss joked, having regained her composure.

Geralt chuckled, whereas Dandelion raised his tankard. "Certainly not betting against that!"

For a short while they relieved the old memories before Geralt revealed the reason why he had come downstairs in the first place.

"Dandelion, do you have something dinner-like that I can take upstairs? She's hungry."

"The ice queen is always hungry. Deli- Ah, never mind. I'll do it myself."

The poet turned host scuttled off towards the small kitchen. He cursed something about the bane of his existence under his breath as he disappeared behind a swinging door.

"Geralt, before you leave… Can I ask a favor?" The shyness in her voice surprised Geralt. Something was different about his old friend tonight.

He raised his eyebrows.

"I have some business to take care of in Putrid Grove. Any way I can convince you to come with me? Ever since that incident with Menge, it seems I have acquired a certain reputation and, well, I would feel better if…"

Geralt nodded. "Of course." After all he was the one who had gotten her involved in that whole mess. "Can it wait until tomorrow?"

"It's not urgent."

Their conversation ended abruptly when Dandelion returned with a small tray, containing all sorts of food.

"Thank you."

"Wouldn't want the queen to go without food. I remember her to be unbearable whenever she's hungry."

Geralt said nothing and grinned. And with that he wished them a good night and returned upstairs, looking forward to crawling into a warm bed.

"Are you alright?" Dandelion asked once he and Triss had settled down again at the table.

"Is it so obvious?"

"Not to an emotional cripple like Geralt but to me, yes." He put his hand on hers and squeezed it lightly.

She sighed. "I have always known that I'll never be to him what he is to me. I know it sounds horrible but I've always taken solace in the thought that, even after he ended things with Yennefer, he'd never move on. But he has, hasn't he?"

Dandelion nodded. He swallowed before saying: "If it is any consolation: there were higher forces involved here."

At Triss' confused stare, he recounted the events of the summer of Kit's arrival – or rather an embellished version of what Geralt had told him in his usual no nonsense manner.

When Geralt returned to Kit, the crackling fire illuminated the room, leaving it cozy and warm. Kit was curled up in bed and had nearly disappeared under the heavy duvet with only a part of her face poking out.

"Food?" she asked.

"Food," he confirmed as he set the tray down on the bed. "Eat."

Kit started to munch enthusiastically while Geralt undressed before he crawled into the bed as well. He put one arm around her while she fed him bits and pieces of everything available.

"This was nice," she sighed. Kit smiled, calm blue eyes looking at him lovingly as she lifted one hand to caress his face, fingers trailing over the short hair of his beard. He closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against hers before he planted another soft kiss on her lips.

"I love you," he whispered, as always finding it hard to believe his luck.

"Love you," she mumbled as she cuddled against his chest. Geralt smiled into her hair as he began to fumble her braid apart and brush his fingers through the soft, long hair.

"There is something you should know," he started after short consideration.

"Huh?"

"When I went to get dinner, I met Triss. She'll be staying here as well."

There was no immediate reaction. Then: "The Triss?" Kit bent her neck to look up to Geralt.

He nodded.

She leaned her cheek back against his chest. "I guess I was going to meet your exes sooner or later."

"You're alright?" He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly.

"Just make sure that, if she magically turns me into something, some animal or whatever, that it is something cute."

Geralt chuckled. "You're always cute."

"Not if I get turned into a slug."

"Even then I won't let go of you."

"Are you sure? Even if I leave a slime trail on your face?" She painted an imaginary path on the witcher's face.

"Not even then. But she won't do that."

"If you say so." Geralt thought he detected an undertone of doubt in her voice.