Prologue...

Their journey had come full circle, an auburn fox and a white wolf. It felt like so many years ago and despite their past, the experiences they'd shared, good and bad, had only strengthened their bond. Even when the sorceress, Triss Merigold, had misled him, Geralt of Rivia still could not bring himself to let go of her. There was a sense of sorrow when she was far and joy when she was near. What he felt was never more apparent than during their reunion in Novigrad so many months ago. The threads of fate had reunited them, drawing him closer to the enchantress. Was it love or lust, he could not say, but what he felt for her could be compared to nothing he had felt before. In Triss, the witcher tasted something rare, he found amity, a harmony he'd never known in his long troubled life. Rejecting how others would view her, she offered warmth, love, respect and in the enchantress from Maribor, Geralt of Rivia had found a woman who held him as her equal. Although he would not dare admit it in past encounters, neither had known such deep emotional connection, save in each other's arms. Always willing to place the needs of the others above their own, they'll reach pleasant balance. Since their arrival in Pont Vanis, the two had made it a point to enjoy the simple things. Together, they'd take morning saunters through the city streets and on the narrow mountain paths, then spend their leisure and evenings together in their bed. Geralt would tell her tales of hunts long past, though Triss knew them all from their time together in the witcher's fortress of Kaer Morhen. He'd sit in the parlor, watching as she churned her vials making potions and simple healing remedies. As she had done in the past to his elation, Triss joined his hunts, fighting at his side if only to share in the hardships he'd endured on the path, yet to her displeasure, her duties at the royal court often demanded much of her attention. Geralt of Rivia would hang up his swords had she not insisted he continue to be a witcher, and though she worried whenever he was on the path, his skills were always needed. Like many before, he'd often returned from his hunts with cuts and wounds, all testaments to the monstrous beasts he had slain, yet each time Triss would mend her lover, healing his wounds, then soothing him with verbal lashings that always preceded her heartfelt pleas urging caution.

Chapter 1: A Small Mistake

Geralt staggered into the home he shared with his beautiful sorceress, Triss Merigold of Maribor. Gripping his silver sword in one hand, the witcher slowly made his way through the parlor towards his lover's lab. It had been days since he'd last seen her and his hunt hadn't gone according to plan. He had faced death on the path many times before; every monster, every beast he'd faced, was a brush with death, yet the thought of leaving her haunted his muddled thoughts. Unafraid of what lay ahead, the witcher had but one hope, he clung to life desperately yearning to see her smile, linger in the sweetness of her hair, and stay just a moment longer. He had seen her in tears once before as he lay dying, now Geralt wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms, to kiss her lips and tell her how his heart, every scar the marred his flesh aches for her gentle embrace. On the loneliest of nights on the path, his dreams were of her.

A heavy smile gripped his face, the scent of her perfume filled the air, as he imagined the warmth of her touch, the soft sound of her voice when she whispered her love, so softly he feared the winds would capture what was his. Drifting in his memories, Geralt returned to that place in Kaer Morhen. The sweet mountain air against their faces, as they hid deep in the keep, away from prying eyes and ears. He remembered their climb through crumbled walls to a hidden place, where they'd often find warmth nestled in each other's body. The witcher reminisced of the sound of their beating hearts, his hands on her neck, as each sought comfort on the other's lips. They'd shared many beautiful moments there, on that stage where two hearts entwined. The walls of Kaer Morhen were soaked with the sweetness of her voice when they made love, and he could always find comfort there, even in her absence.

I love you, Geralt... The thought of her voice and stinging pain brought the witcher back.

He took another agonizing step forward. It should have been impossible for any man to move with such lacerations and hemorrhage, but the witcher was no ordinary man. A white wolf, monster slayer, trained at Kaer Morhen, he was Geralt of Rivia. There was a lack of grace in his step, his movements were erratic and slow. It was evident to him that he had sustained grievous injuries; his wounds had reopened once more and potions did little to clot them. His torn armor, and blood soaked fingers, reminded him with each step. Through the window, attached to his mare, were his trophies; the severed heads of two royal griffins. Roach, always his loyal companion, stared and whinnied, seemingly worried about her rider. Barely conscious, Geralt made his way towards Triss' lab. Moving with will alone, determined to reach her, he moved through their home leaving behind a thread trail of blood and droplets. His mind dulled with the pain as he rounded the hall and headed towards her familiar scent, only to learn it was naught, but an apron hanging by the door.

"Triss?" Geralt called out, moaning as he gripped his side. He felt the sickly warmth of his blood seeping from his body, trickling through his fingers.

The witcher needed Triss, her touch and voice always calmed him, but the enchantress' duties in Tancred's court meant she hadn't yet returned to their home. He yearned to hear her soft whispers, to feel the warmth of her loving embrace. As he faded, Geralt longed for her soft lips, the sweet sounds of the songs she sang, her gentle laughter, but most of all, he yearned to see her soft freckled face if only for a final gaze. Overcome by a deep longing; his body slowly succumbing to the wounds he had sustained on his hunt, Geralt finally dropped his sword. He clutched the sorceress' apron from the wall, then collapsed to the floor, mere feet from her workstations. The witcher had always enjoyed and admired her beauty from the parlor while she worked. The sounds of clanking vials, as she practiced her alchemy, always calmed him. Lying in a pool of his own blood, his mind drifted to their first encounter, that bashful, blushing women, then took him to the day he saw her name engraved in stone at Sodden Hill marking those who had fallen there. He remembered the anguish of his heart, the heartache that could not be quenched by the raven-haired sorceress, Yennefer of Vengerberg. He wished to go back to that time, to tell Triss how he felt then, and how much he'd grown to love her. Dying, Geralt remembered how pleased he was when he learned she had survived the Battle of Sodden, their first meeting after and the conversations they had.

I was wrong and stupid, I should've told you so many times, but I kept you waiting. I'm dying. I'll bleed to death soon.

Shifting from past memories to more recent ones, Geralt recalled their time in Novigrad, the plans they'd made to live together in Kovir. Suddenly, overcome by despair, the witcher's worst fears manifested chilling his mind. He swallowed hard, grasping the moment he would truly lose her forever. Memories of the hardships she'd endured flooded his thoughts, her sacrifice against Salamandra, the horror and anguish she'd suffered at Loc Muinne, their separation, the torture she endured at the witch hunter's barracks, as they searched for clues to Cirilla's whereabouts, then finally his thoughts rested on the night he'd almost lost her on the docks of Novigrad.

I wish you were here, Triss... "I need you." He mumbled, then lost consciousness.

The witcher slipped in and out of consciousness, soaring in dreams of an Elven baths and the moment he gave her a Rose of Remembrance. He knew then that their love had bloomed into something real. He reminisced on the stolen kiss in the Vegelbud's garden that rekindled their flame, and the night they shared in the lighthouse. Geralt cursed, accepting he would die before she found him, then sought peace in the love, happiness, and warmth they shared, a love unlike any before. In Triss he'd forged a friendship tethered in feelings so deep, and a bond so strong that nothing, not even death itself would tear him from her without a melee. As he lay wounded, taking his last breaths, the witcher slowed his heartbeat giving him time. With each passing moment, he drew more shallow breaths, then his thoughts began to wander.

Triss will come... she'll find me, heal my wounds... witchers are to be devoid of emotional attachments... or so we claim... but that woman... auburn-haired… those blue eyes captured and holds my heart still.

'Get up, Geralt. Get up and move.' He heard a familiar voice called to him.

That voice... what is that voice? I know that voice... "Ciri?" He called to her, recognizing a voice from his past, the voice of a swallow, whispering softly. 'You have to hold on... for her, for them. You chose this path, and now you need to keep your promise.'

More and more, a sense of rue filled his thoughts. It was as if time itself had stood still, while he slipped deeper to meet his fate, then his dreams were halted by the familiar sound of Triss' portal. He heard her voice coaxing his mare, then the sound of the front door opening. He could hear the softness of her bare feet on the wooden floor, the harsh sound of her slippers hitting the wood. He commanded and willed himself to move, yet his injured body would not obey. Unable to move, or call out to her, Geralt clung to the fading sound of Triss' voice and the whines of his horse. There was a sudden crackling sound of the fireplace, lit by her magic, as he slipped back into unconsciousness, only to be woken again by the sweet lilt of her voice.

Weary, she vococalized her frustration with the politics of the courts, she paced the parlor, pulled the curtains shut, then lit a candle on the table. As she warmed their home his blood trail went unnoticed; it had disappeared into the polished stain on the wooden floor. She pulled her shawl and draped it across the chair; although most sorceresses in the northern kingdoms went to great lengths to enhance their beauty, she did not. Her lips were lined with a pleasant gloss, her cheeks flushed a freckled. Few amongst her sisters stood on par with the sorceress' beauty. She cared not for her looks, though her trends were her own; the cut of her gown, the rarity on her style set her apart. Her smile was a gentle sheathed that held her fierce nature, the allure of her eyes and womanly curves ensnared her lover's eyes. She playfully announced her presence, calling to Geralt, but the sorceress' calls went unanswered.

Over here,… Geralt answered, though his words were spoken in thoughts only and did not reach her.

***][***

Two Days Earlier... March 22, 1274.

It was early in the morning; the gentle breeze of Kovir blew across the city. Their home perched on a hill high above, the city below could be seen for miles. The leaves on the trees moved gracefully in the morning breeze, as the tree branch scratched against the window of their bedroom. Triss strolled in; her eyes promptly focused on Geralt lying, shirtless. The space was dimly lit by the embers of a small flame in the fireplace nearby, as she stared at her witcher's body with lust. She'd prepared their home to greet him and when she was finished, she'd often lay in bed beside him while he slept gazing at his body covered with scars. She removed the dressing to check scars on his chest, just above his left breast, while he slept, admiring the peacefulness on his face.

Fresh scars, he's stubborn as always. Look at him—sleeping like a baby without any care. She smiled, then sat on the bed beside him.

The sorceress straddled his body with her arms and kissed the scars on his shoulder and face. As she pulled away, Geralt opened his eyes to the pleasant touch of her lips. She had a disquiet look in her eyes that was masked by her smile. Her lips were full, temptingly sumptuous and delicately exquisite, like a rose. He stroked her cheeks, gently sliding his fingers down to her neck, and his touch made the sorceress yelp. She slowly lifted her eyes to meet him and the witcher's face held a familiar poised grin.

"Good morning. Forgive me, did I wake you?" Triss whispered, moving her face to his.

"Yeah, but it felt good." Geralt replied, gazing into her eyes.

"Good, here's another." Triss said, as her lips met his. She quickly withdrew, then chuckled. "That's for falling asleep through my story."

"One more…right here." The witcher mumbled, pointing at his mouth.

"I know that look... and the answer is no." She laughed, then pushed herself away from him.

"What look? You look incredible." He replied, without tearing his gaze from her.

"Don't look at me with those eyes. I'll be yours tonight, but now—now you need to get ready. I ran you a bath." Triss said. She placed her hands on her hips and teased.

Refusing to get out of bed, Geralt patted the duvet beside him and invited the sorceress to join him. She gazed at him intently, then rolled her eyes with the faintest smile, knowing she could not resist. Obsessed, neither would pass an opportunity to be alone. The witcher could not keep his hands off her, and Triss could not resist his simple charm. Were it up to him, he would've locked them in a room, threw away the keys and disappeared for a month. They often spent their evenings nestled in each other's arms, leaving their chambers only when they could no longer endure their cravings and hungers. Geralt gestured with a grin, her figure enticed him. Triss hastily climbed into bed, straddled him, then quickly found his lips. She traced her fingers across his body magically pinning him down beneath her thighs, then tormented him with her lips. He knew she was his, yet he could not dismiss his yearning to have her alone in bed that very moment. As she released him from her grasp, he slowly took her hands, brought them to his lips and kissed them. His eyes were tensed, his words direct, the air in their bedroom was almost stifling as they kissed in fervor. A cool breeze crept across her skin as the window swung open, her magic at work while she remained on top of him. The sweet scent of her perfume filled their room, distracting him, but only for a moment.

"I want you here... always. I know you're strong, and you can take care of yourself, but I also know this world, and I am uneasy when you're away. I want to be there to protect you." He mumbled.

"It's nice to feel protected, Geralt. I want to protect you too, you know? It scares me when you're in danger." Triss answered softly into his ears.

That's how I felt in Novigrad, as I watched a sorceress burned on the pyre. I feared for your life. He said in his thought, refusing to take his gaze from her eyes.

"Things are looking well, Geralt. We have each other. We'll face hard times… I'm sure of that, but we have experience in that area, don't we?" Triss asked. She lovingly traced her finger across his scar, then pushed her body from his as she whispered. "I know everything will be alright, because we'll be here—together."

"I want to wake up to your voice and your kiss each morning. I'll be here to greet you when you get home, and when I return from my hunts, you'll be there to meet me with that wonderful smile. We can live like this... grow old together." Geralt said, while he fondled her ears.

As she listened to her lover's words, Triss realized they were meant for her heart. Slowly, his heart that once seemed so far away, was suddenly so close. In rare moments such as these, Geralt could voice his true feelings and desires. He was unafraid to share his thoughts, yet he struggled for the words in his longing to show her what he felt inside.

"I'll always be here when you come home, Geralt, no matter how far your travels carry you.
I'll be waiting for you to return to me. We'll grow old together, surrounded by love." Triss whispered back.

"I'm old."

"No, you're still handsome, and your heart belongs to me, as my own is entrusted to your care." She spoke softly. When he inched forward for a kiss, she gently pushed his face back, "You'll never find yourself absent my love, and I haven't a doubt about your love for me. Not anymore."

Geralt grabbed her waist as he sat up in bed, and she gently slipped her arms around his neck, then kissed him. His eyes followed, as he traced his rough, yet gentle, fingers across her body and up her neck. Slowly, he removed the laces to her gown, then peeled her clothes off her chest and exposed her soft flesh to his lips. He ran his tongue across her skin, as Triss moved her body closer to him, then gripped his head and kissed him violently. Her body was warm, and she wanted to be disrobed quickly, but the witcher took his time.

"Hurry, we don't have much time, Geralt." She coaxed him.

"Afraid you'll be late?" He replied.

"I've been late every day this week, and I'm sure the other mages noticed my hair yesterday." Triss smiled, rolled her eyes and pinched his neck. "That was your doing, Geralt."

"I don't care what your friends think, I want you." He mumbled, demanding her attention.

"Come then, witcher. If I'm going to be late again, I intend to make this worthwhile." She answered, then brought her lips to his ears. "I want to taste you, your skin... and everything else."

Geralt grunted, but said nothing. He watched as she moved her tongue across his chest, up to his collar. He held her waist and she pinched his neck.

"Do you like that?"

"Yeah..." He answered.

She swayed her hips and crept lower. His body twisted with each kiss, dancing and tensing to her tongue. Triss traced her lips along his skin, making small circles; she blew her warm breath onto him. She had fallen captive to her witcher's desires. Geralt stared silently, as she moved her lips, gently pleasing him. She quickly unfastened his breeches, pulling them away as she crawled backwards, stroking his legs and thighs. She took her lover's hand and tongued his finger, then gazed up at his parting lips. She was slow, tender, watching blissfully as he moaned and whined beneath her. The enchantress raked her fingers across her witcher's chest, kissing his navel, then she slipped her hand down his stomach, tracing the hard sculpted flesh. Each dip was like a wave across the seas. Her lips curled as she took her time, savoring every part of him, gently warming his senses with magic.

"Magic? Not fair..."

"Fair? No, it's not... ." I know every inch of you, Geralt... and I want all of it. She flicked her tongue and felt the excitement, a flicker as his eyes closed, and his body shivering. Her words muffled, as she spoke in haste. "...it has everything to do with what I desire, Geralt."

He sucked in his breath, hissing when she bit softly. He bucked and she jumped, almost startled by his response. His muscles rippled with anticipation, as he gritted his teeth. His hands came up, then hesitated to touch her head. Geralt curled his trembling fingers tucking his hands at his sides when raised her eyes. Triss felt his heartbeat thump through his skin, then she took his hand, coaxing him to hold her head, relishing his hesitance. She was skilled, well practiced and it wasn't long before Geralt's moans echoed throughout their bedroom. He weaved his hand through her fiery tresses, grabbing a handful, as he closed his eyes growling her name. A sharp pain raced down the sorceress' neck, followed by a pleasurable sensation from his forcefulness. Triss held her lips in place, sensually lifting her eyes, she covered her mouth, coyly avoiding his gaze, but the witcher trapped her with his legs, then forcefully rolled her body and pried her hand away. He kissed her before she could mount her feeble protest and tasted her soft lips, then lifted her up, trailing his mouth against her skin.

"You didn't last." She teased.

"Hmm..." He grunted. "You won't"

"Wait, no—Geralt I—want, umm…" Triss whined as he leaned forward sucking on her neck.

"It will take a moment to make you beg." Geralt boasted, confident in his knowledge of her body.

"Shut up." She hissed, blushing to his kisses.

Triss craned her neck to let him in, but he was gone, Geralt had moved to her chest. Her hands fastened on his back, as his lips moved with lustful determination; each soft bite threatening to drive her insane. Her eyes ogled him with such compassion and love, she bit her lip as he kissed her body, moving down to her stomach. He ripped her gown, dragging the fabric across her skin like feathers, lifting her thighs. She tried to resist, but Geralt pinned her hands against the bed, locking her wrist and pressing his thumbs in her palm. Her flesh felt as though it was on fire, and she leaned her head against the pillow. It was tousled, her lust and anticipation had given way to frantic fervent kisses against his fingers when they slipped into her mouth. His hands and lips moved in sync, as Geralt traced his left hand down to her breast. She winced as his hand slid across her skin, stinging, gently tracing her body. Triss arched her back when the witcher bit her inner thigh. Soft screams escaped her lips. Geralt could hear her heart beating erratically. Hoarsely panting, her hands drifted aimlessly across the sheets as she writhed in euphoria.

"Told you..." Geralt moved his lips, relishing her taste.

"Oh dear Militele!" Triss screamed.

She clasped her legs against his face; Geralt growled, then pried her thighs apart. Lifting his head briefly he listened to her fingers scratching at the sheets. The witcher took her hand and placed it on his shoulder and she slid down to his back.

"I don't want to hurt you." Triss said, short of breath.

"You won't." He mumbled. Her body flinched to his kiss, then he removed his lips, "Like it?"

"I do." Triss answered crumpling the sheets between her fingers.

She quivered, trapping him between her legs, as he held onto her hips. She arched her back, then laced her fingers through his hair. His every touch consumed her twisting, churning body, as her whines pierced the air. When he finished, he chuckled boastfully, then crawled up her still convulsing body.

"Told you I'd make you beg..."

"Bastard, you love that." Triss whispered, opened her eyes, then kissed his lips.

"Mmhmm, you tasted so good." He mumbled, as she twisted her body and rolled him over.

"No, don't say that..." She replied, hiding her face in a passionate blush.

"I'm serious. I loved every moment of it." Geralt mumbled, assuring her. He raised her chin and found her lips once more with a desperate closeness.

Triss gently pressed her body against his and gasped as his hands glided across her bare skin. He slowly slid his fingers across her arms and cupped her fingers, as he moved his hips to meet hers. Both lovers moved in unison, their bodies shaking under each other's touch. Sensing her subtle shivers throughout her body, Geralt gently moved his hands across her thighs and back, causing the sorceress to tremble. She panted, her arms locked around him. Triss pressed her lips against his neck, biting him, as her body ached and lusted for more. He growled, his mouth had moved far, his body ached from her fingers, as she pressed her lips against his, to mask her growing moans. As Geralt made love to her, she held him tight, gripping his body with her arms and legs. She let out a whine, pushed him onto his back, then placed her hands on his chest. Geralt reached for her hips, but the sorceress purposely hexed his body, and caused his senses to become more heightened. The burning sensation from her touch was strong, so intense and pleasurable he cursed aloud, then met her lustful grin.

"Damn... that's new…"

Triss raised her hands from his body, placed her lips to his ears. "Did I hurt you?"

"No."

"So you like it, then?"

"Yes!"

"Good." She whispered, when his mouth grazed her neck.

Geralt reached down, held onto her waist, then rolled her over. He pinned her body against the bed with his and held her there for a moment before raising his head. He searched her skin hungrily with his witcher eyes, then grabbed both of her hands and held them above her head. Like a skilled hunter stalking his prey, he kissed her forehead as her lips frantically searched for his, kissing his chin. Geralt paused briefly, but she quickly protested. Triss raised her head to kiss him, but the witcher slowly withdrew and smiled. She wrapped her legs around him and reprimanded with her fiery blue eyes, then demanded the witcher continue. Geralt obeyed, her breathing grew louder, more tense and strained. She felt him, as their bodies coiled as one. She wanted his kiss, yet he made every effort to starve her of it.

"Don't you dare stop and don't deny me!" She growled. "Stop teasing and take what you want! You don't have to be so fucking gentle!"

"I have no reason to rush." He mumbled, as he ran his fingers over her heart then kissed her chest. "You're mine, forever. I've finally found you…"

"And—my heart—will always—recognize you—Geralt." Triss replied.

She raised her body and gently tipped her lover onto his back, then motioned him to move against the headboard. Her arms around his neck, she kissed him and held on to stave her lustful whines. He held her waist, as their lips joined. She wrapped her hands around his neck and squeezed. Her voice echoed loudly, ringing like a song in his ears, as his movements grew quick and forceful. He tightened his grip on her, then pressed her body into his, climbing off their bed, as she held onto him with her legs and arms. Geralt pinned her against the wall. He raised her legs high with his hands, then moved his body in rhythm to her moans and kisses on his face. Triss clenched her teeth onto his neck, she pressed her fingers against his flesh as they both took quick breaths and rested. Geralt held her as they collapsed onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around the sorceress. The sensation of his bare skin against hers was almost too much to endure, but she refused to let him out of her grasp. Her body trembled, on the verge of screaming, when the witcher covered her mouth with his hand, muffling her screams.

"You alright? Your body is still shaking."

"What do you think? Just shut up, Geralt, and hold me." Triss whispered. She raised her head and gazed into her witcher's eyes realizing he was completely and utterly hers. He'd given his heart and his very soul to her. Triss closed her eyes and returned her head to his chest.

"As you wish." He said, kissing her lips one more time. She folded sighing into his mouth.

They laid naked in bed just a little while until they were able to regain their composure. Their bodies twisted, coupling like two halves of a perfect sculpture. She ran her hand along his arm. His scent, touch, and words always drove her to lose herself, and Geralt found her touch and the warmth of her body irresistible.

"That was incredible. The last time I felt so calm and helpless beneath your lips, and hands, was in Flotsam. Do you remember what you said to me back then? I'd promised to follow you to the ends of the world if you asked, but..." Triss whispered.

"I remember, I said…"

"I remember it so clearly... my heart burned with so much love for you. You said 'you didn't know what the future held for us, and you didn't know what else was hidden in your mind, but whatever it was, whatever happened, you didn't want to lose me…" She smiled, "Those words Geralt... I remember, you said, 'you'd have to be an utter fool and complete ingrate to let me go.'"

"I meant what I said... but when the time came, I couldn't stop myself from leaving you. I'm trying to make it right, Triss, because I want this life. I was wrong, I see that now, I put you..."

"It's alright, you came back to me, remember? We're here, together. That's the only thing that matters. I want to believe that." She mumbled, against his arms. I can't lose you again...

"Flotsam was…"

"Hush, witcher... just hush." I can feel your heart beating, it's hurting because you feel guilt... but you're wrong. You rescued me, allowed me to love you, and then I you... I've given you my undying love. How can that be wrong? Don't torment yourself, it will only break my heart.

"Triss?"

"Yes?" She answered, gently stroking his leg with hers. "What is it?"

Her voice rang like thunder in his ears. Geralt tightened his grip, pressing her back against his chest and squeezing her body. He felt her warmth flowing through him, "Want to take a bath?"

"I'd love to, but just a bath, nothing more. We're already late, and you promised to walk with me." She whispered.

"Mmhmm, I wouldn't miss it for the world." He replied.

Together, they climbed out of bed, and Triss walked away wrapping her body with a towel. She turned to face him, and Geralt playfully lifted her off her feet, then carried her to the waiting bath. He unfurled the towel and she climbed into the water waiting patiently for him. As the witcher joined her, she extended her arms signaling him to place his body between her legs with his back against her chest. Triss wrapped her legs around him, resting her heels atop his thighs. He smiled and leaned his head into her shoulder, while she gently poured water across his chest. Geralt closed his eyes; his witcher senses now heightened, he listened to the soft sound of water running across his back, between her breasts and down her sides. Triss reached for a small bottle near the table, then oiled his skin with a sweet smelling ointment. She returned the bottle, then kneaded his chest and abdomen. The enchantress walked her fingers up to his neck, gently massaging his ears, his eyes closed as he relaxed under her skillful ministrations. His hands searched for, and found, her feet. He began to gently massage them, returning the favor, rubbing areas he knew she loved. Triss giggled, her oiled hans wandering across his muscular chest, then sliding languidly down his firm stomach, before plunging beneath the water. He tensed to her fingers and shifted his body to his side, his shoulder now resting between her breasts. Geralt stared, then lifted his eyes to hers.

"You said nothing more than a bath." He grinned, as he gently caressed her legs.

"I know. I'm simply teasing you, Geralt. Returning the favor from earlier." She replied, and bit her lip as she felt a pleasant vibration move throughout her body.

"I don't remember teasing you."

"Oh really? You don't remember staring at me with those gorgeous eyes and that irresistible silly grin?" She asked, then continued to pour water across his body.

"Hmm, I remember waking up to your lips against my body." He smiled, "We made love and now we're here in a bath together..."

"I remember that, lover. I wanted to take advantage of you while you slept, but you looked so peaceful, I just couldn't."

"Wouldn't be the first time I'd hoped a certain beautiful sorceress took advantage of me."

"Oh, Geralt, you're breaking my heart. I'd never take advantage of you... if you didn't want me to." Triss replied, playfully stroking his arms.

"Mmhmm—thing is; I'll always want you. Wait, is this your attempt at flirting with me?" He asked, then turned and kissed her lips.

"Umm—Geralt, stop. We have to get out before I…" She replied, then stopped abruptly, and quickly exited the bath, still wet, as water dripped from her skin onto the floor.

"Before you what?" He asked, curiously, then leapt from the bath and placed his hands on her body.

"Your hands... we have to stop, please... before I decide to stay at home... in bed, with you."

"I like that option better." He replied, then swung a towel around her body and pulled her closer. "You don't know how beautiful you look right this moment."

"I do." Triss smiled, her cheeks flushed with a soft rosiness. She placed her finger on his lips, then took a step back, "Honeyed words and compliments will get you nowhere, witcher."

"What about this?" Geralt said, then kissed her neck.

"Mmm, kisses are nice... very nice." She murmured.

"And this?" Geralt mumbled. Their bodies cool, he let the towel fall to the floor as his hands glided across her skin, taking the water along with them. Her breathing rose, almost anxious. She whispered something inaudible but the witcher covered her mouth with his, taking his sorceress on a cloying, passionate wild trek. His tongue sinking deeper into her mouth as her moans sharpened.

She jerked her body away from his, panting. Her fingers squeezed her aching lips, "That will definitely get you far, witcher. Don't tempt me anymore."

"Admit it, I was close." Geralt said, as they stood just an arm's length from each other.

Moments later, they walked towards their bed and, using magic, Triss got dressed, then sat on the edge of the mattress waiting for him to prepare. He exited their bedroom and returned soon after, having donned his witcher's armor, with swords affixed his back. Unbeknownst to her, he had accepted a contract to track down and rid the southern roads of a royal griffin, who was terrorizing weary travelers. Despite his previous injuries, and Triss' request that he rest until fully healed, the witcher took the contract as a favor to the locals. With four people dead, he could not refuse. He was a witcher, that was his trade, his skill and few could dispatch a monster with such grace as the White Wolf. Geralt had planned to finish the contract, then surprise his sorceress with a romantic getaway. Although he had no desire to take another contract, the request from the townspeople seemed forced upon him. As the sole witcher in Pont Vanis, and a well-known one at that, his refusal would certainly be odd, he concluded. The griffin had moved closer to a human settlement and began hunting both the road and the nearby towns. He had hoped to take his sorceress along on this hunt, but during their intimate encounters, it had slipped his mind, and Triss remained unaware until morning.

Surprised and upset, she asked, "Why are you wearing your armor? Don't tell me you are planning to go out again?"

"I'm sorry, I had to take another contract, but this will be my last before we winter." He grunted, then tugged on her gown.

"Why? It's almost winter now and you said…" She paused with an anxious smile, as Geralt took her hands.

"I know, but I had little choice in the matter." He replied, tracing her body with his eyes, then grinned. "After I finish this job, it's just you and me all winter. I promise."

Triss raised her hand and waved her finger feigning anger, as she pulled away, "Hey, hey, uh-uh, mmm, you don't get to do that. I'm scolding you right now, so you don't get to do that when I'm scolding you."

"Consider me scolded." Geralt replied, then moved closer to her.

"So, when did you plan to tell me about your new adventure?" She asked.

"I wanted to tell you earlier, yesterday, but I knew it would make you upset and I didn't want to ruin the mood, we were..." He replied.

"You're damn right it would! Your wounds from your previous hunt haven't healed fully, and you accepted another monster contract? How could you lie to me?!"

"I'd never lie to you deliberately, you know that, but I need to do this. What good is a witcher when monsters are killing people nearby and he does nothing?" Geralt asked, as her mood changed and her smile was replaced by a frown. "Stop frowning, I'd never do anything so stupid as lying to you."

"Two weeks ago, you returned to me with those cuts to your shoulders and, as I patched you up, you kissed me and said that was your last contract for the season, Geralt. Do you remember that?"

"Mmhmm, I remember."

"Well, darling, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I am a witcher. I didn't want to keep this from you, but it slipped my mind and we fell asleep after... besides, this contract was urgent. Four people are already dead, including a small child." He answered.

"I know baby, trust me I know, but you are my witcher. I am afraid and worried when you are away. I had plans for our evening, Geralt. Special plans. You should've told me and I would've skipped out on the court and joined you today. It's far better than listening to merchants squabble and whine about tariffs and their pockets." Triss whispered, turning her eyes, but he gently pulled her gaze back to him.

"I was wrong." He answered, "Last night we spent the night… you know."

"Yes, I remember, witcher, I was there, remember? It was lovely and romantic, but don't try to change the subject. I told you, this is me scolding you for waiting until morning to tell me about your hunt." Triss smiled, touched his lips gently, then walked away pouting.

He quickly reached for her hand and pulled his sorceress into his body. She resisted, briefly, but gave in as her lover's arms firmly wrapped around her. Geralt took a whiff of her hair and closed his eyes, just as she placed her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest.

"You promised," She whispered, as a feeling of warmth crept across her neck and cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I broke my promise... don't be upset, how could I ever lie to you." He replied, her cheek warm to his touch, as he gently rubbed her arm.

"I know... and I should be the one to apologize. I'm sorry. I wasn't upset, just a little disappointed. I'll have to delay our plans, but I don't want to stop you from doing what you love." Triss replied.

"If you ask me to, I'll hang up my swords and retire from the path. I can sit right there, listening to you practicing your alchemy, vials clinging. You can even wear something more tempting—revealing—or, better yet, just remain bare... I'll just stand there, holding you while you work..." Geralt mumbled, and paused when her fingers touched his lips.

"Stop flirting, witcher, because it's working." Triss said softly. "Mere words can never express my love for you, but I could never ask you to stop being a witcher. So, how long will you be gone and what horrible monster are you fighting this time?"

He leaned slightly and kissed her forehead, then whispered, "I'll be gone two days, no more and the contract said a griffin."

"Hmm, you mean 'griffins'?" Triss asked curiously, knowing said creatures were rarely alone.

"No, they said a single griffin. It must be an old one…"

"Mmhmm, or the contract is wrong, Geralt. Those fools wouldn't be able to discern a male griffin from a female griffin. Be careful! If I remember correctly, griffin's mate for life. That means you could be up against two monsters—alone! I should go with you... I need to be there with you..."

Geralt interrupted, his tone frisky, "I'd mate with you for life, you know."

"Witcher, I'm serious, this is no joking matter. A griffin defending its mate, or it's nest, is very dangerous. Kill one and the other becomes even more dangerous. You know this and, unlike you or I—driven by love to protect the people we love—those monsters are driven by pure instinct. If something were to happen to you... I'd be enraged." She whispered softly, shaking her head.

"You'd be my vengeful mate and I protect you?" He said, cocking an eyebrow and grinning. "Perhaps we're not so different than those griffins."

"Perhaps…"

"How did you get to be so knowledgeable about monsters, anyhow?"

"Stop joking, you are not the only one who's read Brother's Adalbert's Bestiary, and you know I take an interest in what you do. Someone has to patch you up... and stop changing the subject!"

"Yeah, I may have to deal with two... unless the griffin's mate is dead, then it will be easy. Try not to worry, I'll be careful."

"Easy? Perhaps, even easier if I were there with you. I can't not worry. It's easier said than done, love, believe me." I am always worried when you are away and out of my sight. Now that I have your heart, I am unable to let you go, Geralt. "Come on, we are leaving, you promised me a morning stroll through the city streets and I have no intention of allowing you to break that promise." Triss said with a soft chuckle.

She flicked her wrist to kill the flames of the fireplace and candles in their bedroom, then took his arm, gently urging him forward. Geralt coiled his arm around her waist and both lovers held each other as they walked to the parlor. Nearby, the parlor's fireplace burned, sparking and crackling with small flames. The air smell of cinnamon; her doing when she woke earlier that morning. He gazed down at his sorceress on his arm and she smiled. It was their home, and they were proud of all that they'd made together. He gave her a nod, a slight grin, as she drew the curtains on the windows then extinguished the candles with magic. When the sorceress had finished, she released her arms from his, walked to her lab, then quickly sorted through potions she had brewed. Triss collected the vials that lined her table, then returned to the parlor. He stood against the wall, watching as she made her way to him. She raised her head, then froze as his eyes greeted her. Geralt pushed his body off the wall and walked towards her still ogling her, and causing his sorceress to blush.

"I brought your potions. I took special care in making them so use them. They should taste much better, too, but they're still not good enough for what I want them to do for you."

"Mmhmm."

"Why are you looking at me that way? Is there something wrong with my gown? You don't like it? Do I have something on my face?"

"Uh-uh. Love it." Geralt replied, his eyes focused on her full lips, her infectious smile, warming him like a raging fire. The softness of her skin, her freckles across her nose and face, drew his lustful gaze.

"What's going on in that head of yours, love? Do you want to share?"

"Oh, you know, stuff... you... mostly just you. We could stay home you know."

"No, you have work to do and I can wait until you return; makes our reunions sweeter when I miss you. Just a little bit, so don't be too long." She said, moving closer to him.

Geralt tried to kiss her, but Triss placed her finger on his lips, stopping him. He grinned, then mumbled, "How many do I have to carry? Anything new?"

"A few. I've made improvements with some, others I'm still perfecting."

"Vesemir would be proud." Geralt mumbled. She paused, but he hadn't noticed, his eyes were focused down her gown.

"These two are Blizzard, you know what it does—these are Kiss, they increase your resistance to bleeding and should stop any bleeding immediately... It's not perfected yet, so don't take any chances. Why am I explaining this, you know what they do?"

"Nice, and true, but I like hearing you say it. It's nice having you with me on a hunt. Come on."

"Yeah? These two are Maribor Forest. You're familiar with the effects, we've used it before, and what a week that was, Geralt?" She chuckled.

"Mmhmm, you liked how it increased my endurance and adrenalin. We could use more of that later..." He replied holding onto her waist, "Some Tawny Owl too, you know how much that increases my stamina."

"Behave—these are Swallows. I've improved the formula tremendously, it will greatly increase your vitality, but if you suffer a deep wound, or an injury to your organs, it may not be as effective as I'd like. I'm sorry, love I had some difficulties tampering with this to get the desired effects. I promise the next batch should be much better. Honestly, I think I can perfect it, with little side effect to the user. Here are two of those Tawny Owls you asked for."

He kissed her, then withdrew, but Triss took him by the nape of his neck, pulled his head closer and kissed him. Geralt had already consumed a potion and his lips tasted bitter. "I'll miss you." She whispered, wiped his lip, staring into his eyes, as she held his forehead against hers. Triss placed two more vials of potions in the pouches attached to his armor, a Shrike potion and Petri's Philter, then gently pushed away.

"Let's go, I don't plan to break anymore promises." He replied, then pulled and kissed her lips again.

"You've become quite the romantic, witcher."

His eyes were dull, yet it held a warmth she recognized. He teased her with his fingers then replied, "I never thought it would be this easy, or feel this good—this natural—with you. I've never gone for quiet, but then our life together has never been this quiet. What I feel for you... it's easy—it's—"

"It's good."

"No, it's great. This is where I'm meant to be, and I should've made you mine long ago."

"Stop that, Geralt, I was always yours and you knew it." She answered.

***][***

As the lovers left their home, they headed down the road towards the main city of Pont Vanis. Triss placed her arm through his and gently held on to his forearm. They strolled down the street and admired the countryside as the morning sun warmed their faces. The wind blew at a cross from their path and gently blew the sorceress hair into Geralt's face. He turned his eyes towards her and stared intently; surprised, and pleased that she had let her hair down naturally.

"I can see you staring at me. What are you thinking?" She whispered.

"Do you really want to know?" He replied, then placed his hands on her hips.

"Well, I could read your thoughts and get my answers without your consent, but that's rude and, not to mention, unromantic. Maybe someday, when you are ready and I'm ready, we'll share our thoughts freely. Right now, I'd rather you told me what you were thinking. When I ask, it's because I am honestly interested in your feelings. I am always interested in your thoughts." Triss answered.

"I am thinking about how beautiful you look and wondering what made you decide to let your hair down. It's been awhile since you wore your hair down publicly."

"Well, after you ran your fingers through my hair, I decided to let it down today. What's wrong, you don't like it?" She asked.

"No, I like it a lot."

"Really?"

"Really—everything about it. It's been so long since I've seen your hair down... well except you know. You should let it down more." Geralt replied, as she leaned her head against his shoulders.

"Oh, so you don't like my hair?"

"No, I didn't say that... umm, your hair looks great down or in a bun." Nice recovery.

"Mmhmm. Too late, witcher, it's not working. Keep trying, I want to know how much you like my hair."

"I like your hair no matter how you wear it, I like it long, short, buns, no buns, no hair, I just like your hair." He grinned awkwardly, I hope this is working, "I find your braids and buns... tempting, but your hair down and loose is seductive... wild..."

"'No hair'? I'll look strange..." Triss whispered, "So, I'm 'tempting', 'seductive', 'wild' and you are turned on by my hair... not my body?"

"Umm, no—I mean yes, and no! Everything about you is beautiful—and I…" Geralt mumbled, then took a deep breath and sniffed her hair.

"Well, that's interesting, are you trying to tempt me again? Keep it up, witcher, and I'll have you right here." She giggled.

He raised an eyebrow and grinned, then grabbed her waist and tried to kiss her neck, murmuring. "Home, now! We'll drop everything and get in bed."

"Hey, Geralt—Geralt stop, we have work to do. You have a contract, I have to actually be an advisor and I…ohhh" Triss said quietly, then grabbed his armor and pulled him closer, as he slipped his hand into her gown, kissed her neck, cheek, then cupped her mouth with his own.

He moved his fingers along her navel, down to her thighs, inching up her gown, as she clenched her knees together and pressed herself against him. The cool breeze blew at his back blowing her hair away from him, as Triss tried to push him off but failed. Geralt showered her lips with kisses, then moved to her neck as he raised her off her feet. Alone on the trails, with Pont Vanis at her back in the distance, the sorceress was shy about her lover's overt action. Why is he doing this now? It's so hard to resist when he's passionate like this. Not there, Geralt, don't kiss me there... He kissed her neck just below her ears, then her lips, passionately. Her thoughts protested even as her body yearned for him. Her hands pushed him away gently, then pulled him back as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, sweeping hers aside. Triss closed her eyes, then brought her hand to his neck and hair. How does he do that? I know I have to show some control, but I just melt right into his arms each time. She thought. Geralt noticed her struggling had ceased and he released his hold, then ran his hands beneath her dress. He slipped his fingers deeper touching her bare skin, but her soft moans were soon muffled. He separated their mouths, then removed his hands from her body as her eyes remained closed.

"What—what is it?" She whispered, hazily.

"I'm losing myself, completely." Geralt answered, then touched her face, brushing her head aside.

"You're supposed to warn me, now I won't be able to focus until you return. Does the offer to return to our home, drop everything and lock ourselves away still stand?" She asked flirtingly.

"Of course, but shouldn't you be in the court?"

"I'm just teasing you, love. That was amazing, unexpected, and you caught me by surprise." Triss replied as she composed herself, then took his hand and continued their walk.

What did Foltest say? She's enamored with me, "It's hard... to restrain myself when you're near I mean."

"Hmm, I've been meaning to ask, what are your plans for the winter?"

He frowned, "Don't you mean 'our plans'? Winter will be brutally cold, but I don't care much about that. I have a sorceress to keep me warm with her fire. Maybe we can hibernate, we could spend months locked up in our bedroom just the two of us."

"I have no doubt, but you can tell me if you hate it here. We can go to Lan Exeter for the winter. I just want you to be happy and comfortable."

"You make me happy and comfortable. It's no Kaer Morhen, but I like Pont Vanis. Maybe we could take more trips, but we should spend the winter here, I'd get more time in bed with you."

"Do you want to visit someplace warmer for a while? Perhaps you are tired of this cold or just bored?" She said.

"No! I don't want to be anywhere else, and how can I be bored when you're right here at my side?"

"I like it here, lover, but only with you. Without you, Kovir would be a cold and lonely place." Triss whispered.

"We have a great plan. I am always yours, m'lady. I don't plan to hunt during the winter months, unless I absolutely have to. I want to play all winter…" He grinned.

I'm sure you do, Geralt. Triss returned a soft smile, then leaned her head on him, "To play in bed, you mean? Of course. Don't worry, we will. I have some surprises and tricks just for you."

A short time later they approached the outskirts of the city. Triss continued to rest her head against her witcher's shoulder as they conversed about their plans for the coming winter. They were greeted politely by nobles and commoners alike as a crowd began to form. More and more, people stared at the lovers as the walked by, their morning strolls had become, and remained, the talk of Pont Vanis, as all the townspeople wanted to get a glimpse of the famous sorceress of Maribor and the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia, as they strolled down the street toward Tancred's palace. The familiar smell of the city and early morning bakeries put the lovers at ease. Noblewomen ogled Geralt and she smiled at their envious stares. Young girls admired the sorceress. Her elegant style—her fashion—always strayed from the usual, screaming her fierce independence. The sorceress' arms entwined with her witcher's told a tale; charming, passionate and beautiful in its making. Triss gently tore her body away, then playfully turned to Geralt, who stood surprised. Before the witcher could speak, she slipped between the buildings, through the winding maze of brick structures, as she playfully called to him. Townspeople laughed at their games, then urged him forward. He followed, turning the corner to briefly catch a glimpse of her gown and fiery hair, as she slipped behind a second building.

"Maze..." Geralt mumbled.

The cries of a young girl drew Triss' attention. She slipped past a group of townspeople, following the sound of the child's voice, then rounded the corner, and paused to observe the little girl who stood there, crying as she clutched a doll in her arms. The girl's sad, dispirited weeping tugged at her heart. As the sorceress watched, her smile faded, a strange feeling gripped her. Unusual… She thought, because she shared no connection to the girl. She was well-kempt, but hinted nothing of nobility, just her parents love and mother's touch. Her curly dark brown hair hung down her back and face, partially concealing her eyes. She raised her head as Triss' movement cast a shadow, diming the morning sun. Her teary eyes were a piercing, beautiful green, fireflies in the night, striking, yet those orbs could make the hardest of hearts flutter. The girl was beautiful; she wore a long dress down to her ankles. It was strange, unlike the other young girls who wore clothing more suited to their age. She hugged her doll tightly, as Geralt approached and touched Triss' waist, then slid his hands down to her hip.

"Give me a minute, Geralt." Triss said, then knelt down and touched the young girl's cheeks.

"Mmhmm," He replied, then squatted low beside the sorceress and the child.

"What's the matter, little one? Why are you crying? You have such a beautiful face. That's a beautiful doll you have there." Triss said, as the young girl backed away.

"It's my Lady Merigold doll and you can't have it." The child said.

Triss raised her eyes, then grimaced, "That's a Triss Merigold doll, huh? It's…well, I don't want the doll, sweetie, I am simply curious as to why you are crying."

Geralt took a knee, then moved closer to the girl, "Let me try." He said, "What's your name, kid?"

"My name is Emily, but my mommy calls me Emi. What's your name?"

"Geralt... Geralt of Rivia. Why are you crying?"

"I want the new dolls." Emily smiled, then stepped forward closer to him, "Is she Triss Merigold then? She is much prettier than the doll, is that why you love her so much? My mommy tells me bedtime stories. She said the witcher Geralt loves the Lady Merigold. Is that true, witcher?"

"Mmhmm, like no one else."

"Oh my! Wow! How old are you, girl?" Triss said.

"I'm seven and my name is Emily." She replied, pushing out her face and creasing her lips.

Triss chuckled at the girl's answer. She was lively and polite, yet feisty, and the sorceress found her attitude refreshing. She touched Emily's face and gently wiped her almost dried tears away, then played with the child's hair. People gathered around, and soon a crowd had surrounded them. Emily stepped forward and touched Geralt's cheeks, then smiled as his eyes focused on hers. The witcher was unsure what to make of the young girl's actions, so he turned to his lover kneeling beside him, as young Emily also touched Triss' hair, then slid her hand down the sorceress' face.

She covered the child's hands with hers, then whispered, "You are such a beautiful little girl. Would you like to be my friend?"

"Mmhmm, yay... I have a witch for a friend." Emily said with a smile, then froze as if in a trance state. Her voice deepened, her tone shifted, as though she was speaking through another's voice. Her beautiful green eyes had turned a milky white. She was unlike a child, almost prophetic, "You have each other, naught else matters. A precious gift she'll give you, witcher, but you must share the other's pain—when the time is right, you and you alone will bring her back to you. Your gift to your witcher is more precious than you know, and his to you will always be cherished. Witcher! Calm your mind... and see the woman before you. A wolf does not play with the crow in the presence of a fox. Remember, you are strongest together."

Emily fell into Triss arms, in a trance, the crowd hadn't changed. Divination, foresight. Triss... thought, "Geralt."

"Yeah, my medallion is vibrating; magic."

"Behave yourself, child, I told you to stay close to me. Why did you run away?" A woman said, then grabbed Emily's hands snapping the girl from her trance state, "Forgive her, m'lady."

"No need, she's lovely." Triss said. 'You have each other, nothing else matters'? 'A precious gift she'll give you, witcher... what does that mean? We will share our pain—when the time is right, he and he alone will bring me back to him'? Gift? What gift? See the woman before him, does she mean me? 'A wolf does not play with the crow in the presence of his fox'? What was that?! 'Be strong'? What an odd thing to say... Who is this girl?!

"Mommy, I made a friend! Please, mommy, may I have the new dolls?" Emi pleaded. Unaware of her own gift, she'd remembered nothing and returned to the sweet innocent child at the sound of her mother's voice.

"No, Emi! You have a doll already. Come on, your father is waiting." The woman said.

"I have the Lady Merigold doll, but the other girls said it's old and torn... not like your stories. They say my doll is like an 'ugly witch. It's torn to rags' and I haven't a witcher doll to make the pair. It's true mommy, my doll looks like an ugly witch, but she is so pretty, like the dolls made by the man there and I want it." Emily said, as she pointed her finger towards Triss.

"Yes Emi, she's beautiful, not like the doll, but…"

"I know... the doll maker said, two thou…" Emily counted on her hand mumbling, then raised her fingers, "He wants two and this many coins for a Lady Merigold and witcher doll."

"Yes, dear, he wants two thousand bezants. It's much too high for the doll, Emi."

"Then ask papa to let me keep the witcher. Can I marry him when I'm older, mommy? He'll make a pair with this dolly."

"Child! You are too young to speak of such things." Her mother replied.

Triss smiled, then touched the girl's cheeks again, "Sorry, Emily, he's mine, but I tell you what, if you let me keep him, I'll get you the dolls."

"Will you, truly? Wow! You are really a nice witch like my mommy said. Did you hear that, mommy? The witch said she'll get me the dolls, and then I'll have a beautiful pair, just like your stories."

The girl's mother smiled and held her daughter close, "She's a sorceress, Emi! You mustn't use such names! It's not nice to call a sorceress a 'witch', and when you address the Lady you'll speak as your father and I have taught you. Forgive her, m'lady, and thank ye for your kindness. You don't have to get my Emi more dolls, she already has one."

"It's alright, truly... I just made a new friend and I insist. Please, have the craftsman make the dolls and send the invoice to Triss Merigold of the royal court." She said, then turned to Geralt, "We have to go, love."

Emily smiled, then crossed her hand at her back and asked, "Could I be a sorceress someday, m'lady?"

"No, child, you have to possess a special gift." Her mother replied.

"She's a special child and someday, when she is old enough—and ready—you'll see it." Triss whispered softly.

"Thank you, m'lady sorceress. You can keep your witcher, my papa would never let me marry him." Emi replied.

"Call me 'Triss', Em." She replied, "And tell your friends, this, a person's beauty here—" She pointed to her face, "—is superficial, but beauty in here—" She pointed to Emi heart, "—is lasting."

"Mmhmm." Emily nodded, then turned to her mother, "She called me 'Em', mommy."

"Yes, Emi, now come along. Your father is waiting for us." Her mother said as she held her daughter's hands pulling her away. "Good day, m'lady."

"Farewell." Triss whispered. What an odd child... I have no doubt she's gifted. I will have to keep an eye on her... such talents wilt, absent proper care. She thought.

Emily pulled her hands from her mother's and ran back to the sorceress and witcher, both still kneeling on the ground. "Do not argue today or it will bring you both misfortune. He loves you above all, and Emi will always be your friend."

"Come on, Emily!"

"Yes mother." Emily replied.

"We won't Em, I promise." Triss replied, frozen, as Emily turned and ran to her mother's side.

"You are concerned about what the little girl said?" Geralt mumbled, "I don't understand it, but I know this, I'll never leave your side again."

"I know that, but I am deeply troubled. That child is gifted with foresight, a rare gift, yet some of her words were too cryptic to discern." Triss whispered, "What precious gift have I given you, except my love? I am committed to you, witcher, I was always committed to you and I can love no one else."

You've given me more than you know... "I don't think her mother is aware of her gift." Geralt said, then rose to his feet. He took his sorceress hands, and lifted her to meet him.

"No, she doesn't, but the girl is a source. With Aretuza gone, others will have to take to her training or her gifts will be lost with age. Mages become barren when we undergo our training and become sorceresses. Maybe someday we could make the journey less traumatic for young girls. Taking away a woman's gift to bare children takes a toll on her mind, when you see such beautiful babies." Triss replied, gently brushing her gown, then took Geralt's hand as they continued their walk to the court.

"Hmm."

"I'm sorry, we didn't finish our game. When you return, will you take a walk with me to the cliff?" Triss asked.

"Mmhmm." He said softly.
They walked back out onto the main street and continued their morning stroll. Geralt stared into the distance for a while, then with a strange, proud, almost whimsical, smile, he spoke, "You always leave something good when you meet people, that little girl will never forget what you did. You were good with her, you know?"

"Geralt?"

"Mmhmm, like you were with Ciri, all those years ago. Little girls take to you. Those dolls, she had one too."

"Mmhmm, little girls and a certain witcher. I am pretty gorgeous."

"Won't deny it." Geralt mumbled. "You look good."

Triss stared, holding a faint smile. "So, who had one? The dolls are... um, different."

"Barons daughter had a doll, yeah, it looked nothing like the real thing, but children can imagine anything. You're a natural mother, Triss."

"Unfortunately, fate had other things in store for Triss Merigold."

"Don't be so certain, witchers are unable to sire children after the trials, but I have a daughter in Ciri. Life is full of surprises, some pleasant and some not so pleasant."

Why would he say such a thing? Hmm. "Geralt, on that matter, for me, life was cruel..." Triss answered in a resigned tone, staring quietly at the shop fronts as they walked by. Geralt looked down at his lover, his eyes fixed with concern, then the sorceress continued, "Speaking of Ciri, I wonder where she is…"

"Doing everything she ever wanted to do."

"It's better, the way things turned out. Ciri deserves to do what makes her happy. I hope she comes to visit us soon... or I'll have to go and get her. I miss her, you know?" Triss said.

"Yeah. If you try to get her, though, you know she'll only come kicking and screaming."

"I know, I know…she'll come when she's ready, and not a minute before."

"Mmhmm." He mumbled, grinning at her laughter and words.

"Do you think she misses…"

"Mmhmm. Ciri talked about you every day when we hunted together before Toussaint." Geralt replied, then paused as Triss halted her strides with a smile. She gently pressed her dress, then rested her hands on her stomach, taking a long deep breath, "Ciri asked about us, so I told her everything, from the day I saw you again at Kaer Morhen, to our reunion in Novigrad... , then she asked why you didn't go to Kaer Morhen where it was safe... why I allowed you to endure Novigrad alone."

"What did you say to her?"

"I had no answers to satisfy her, so I made no excuses. Her questions can be direct and harsh." Geralt mumbled.

"True, she isn't one to mince words." Triss replied, "Come on, let's take our time, I enjoy these moments together."

Oblivious to the crowd, Triss shook her hair and let it fall over her shoulders, as Geralt wrapped his arm around her waist. They continued their walk, hand in hand, and the townspeople continued to bow and greet the sorceress and witcher. It was an odd, yet romantic, sight; her head leaning on his arms. He could hear the mumbles of the people as though they were thoughts. Their tongues wagged about him and the lovely sorceress at his side. Surprised by the sight of a witcher, but mostly amazed at the sorceress' beauty—her glow—more townspeople gathered along the street to gawk. Many of them had never seen a witcher in full armor, least of all with a beautiful sorceress on his arm. Fewer people in the city had seen Triss Merigold since her arrival to Pont Vanis. Rumors had spread across the Kingdom of Kovir and Poviss about them, and her smile said it all, it was the expression of a woman deeply in love. The witcher Geralt of Rivia and the sorceress Triss Merigold, walking hand in hand through the streets of Pont Vanis, each absorbed with the other, remained the talk among the city's residents. Soon they had arrived at the palace gates, a group of five noblewomen approached the couple, one woman shot her a glance that, unless being very naive, was evidently one of jealousy, then greeted Geralt with a daring smile. The rest gathered around interrupting the sorceress' conversation, as a young noblewoman brazenly flirted with the witcher.

"Greetings, sorceress—witcher. So the rumors are true after all? The witcher is very appealing..." One woman said.

"My, my, ladies, isn't he ravishing?" Another asked, as the others smiled, and then quickly retreated as Triss shot them an unwelcome stare.

"Good morning, ladies." Geralt replied.

"Oh, such grace, a real gentleman." A younger woman said, as the others giggled.

"There is much more to a witcher than meets the eye." Geralt replied with a grin.

"Oh my…you're—you're so funny, Master Witcher. I must say, it does make you more attractive. Perhaps I could sample the hidden pleasures of a witcher in my bed someday?" The young noblewoman continued to ogle.

"Simply 'Geralt' or 'witcher' would be fine."

As the witcher replied to the flirtatious advances of the noblewoman, Triss' eyes scolded her, but the women defiantly moved closer. She soon became distracted by the women's lecherous thoughts about Geralt, then tightened her grip on his arms, as the young woman's thoughts flooded her mind. The situation had grown even more tense. Triss instinctively pinched his arm and gently nudged her elbow into his side to stop him from speaking, but Geralt hadn't noticed and remained unaware of the girl's disrespect towards his sorceress while he continued to flirt.

He must be very good to have the sorceress cling to him so. Interesting... it must be true that witchers are vigorous... um... in bed. And this Geralt has a reputation. I must have him.

With her eyes narrowed and fierce, Triss finally spoke, "Don't you hags have somewhere else to be? Perhaps wagging your tail in the court for your new coin purse among Kovir's nobility?"

Surprised but defiant, the young women bowed and warmly said farewell to Geralt. Annoyed by his actions, yet unwilling to confront him publicly, Triss grabbed the collar of his armor and forcefully brought his lips to hers. She kissed him passionately, as the young woman stared in anger then quietly departed with the others.

"What were you doing?!" Triss asked, and gently wiped her lips.

Geralt could see she was upset, but the witcher had no idea why, "Triss?" He replied, curious yet cautious.

"I'll see you when you return. Good-bye." She answered quietly, then tried to walk away but halted. "Be careful..."

"Wait, I don't understand, why are you so angry?" He asked. His question was vexing, a rarity in their deeply affectionate affairs, yet the candor in his voice begged her response.

Triss paused, turned to face him, and then answered, "Please drop it. What that woman did was offensive, and I'll address it later—right now—right now, I wish to say my farewell on a positive note. I—I can only offer you what I am now, dammit!" She bit her lip, "Please... we'll discuss this when you return, alright? I want to give you everything, I want you to be happy, here with me, because I am in love with you, but I will not be insulted... not by these pissy nobles who feel they can take whatever they want! Am I not enough for you?"

He stood, stunned by her question; his eyes fixed on her face, and the absence of her sweet smile that always saw him off. His usual grin was replaced by a befuddled look in his eyes, "Why would you ask me that? I was trying to be nice, that's all."

"'Nice' to who?! Was it 'nice' to me? No! We'll finish this when you return, Geralt. Please..."

"No! We will finish this now."

"Alright then!" She raised her voice ever so slightly, with her hands by her side, "That was rude and hurtful! Why would you flirt with another woman in my presence?"

"Triss..." He mumbled.

"That woman was vile. I didn't like the way she looked at me, and her thoughts about you... Her thoughts were rude and arrogant. And you! You encouraged her!"

"You read her mind?"

"No! Yes, but it wasn't my intent, besides... I didn't have to read her mind to know what she was thinking." Triss answered.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" Geralt replied. She doesn't like it when I flirt with other women. A bad habit I've got to end.

"Your eyes should gaze at my body—just me—as my eyes search for you and you alone." Triss whispered.

He placed his arms around her and kissed her forehead, "Do you think that woman can compare to you?"

"Absolutely not!" She answered, without hesitation or the slightest pause.

"Good. You are the only one, and there is no one else I want."

It was their first disagreement since they moved to Pont Vanis, and it felt strange. Geralt had unintentionally placed the sorceress in an awkward position, but her reaction was even stranger and unexpected. Oddly enough, the witcher found her reaction, her possessiveness, appealing, and had they been somewhere private, secluded, he'd rip her clothes off and made love to her. He wanted to kiss her lips, yet he feared rejection. Their spat was trivial, and such a rarity, nothing like the bitter fights followed by long separations he was accustomed to from his past experiences with another. His lips parted as she spoke, his eyes followed her soft lips, even her angry voice the witcher found sweet, yet he was hesitant to kiss Triss publicly, without the sorceress' permission. Had he been capable of reading her thoughts, he would've known she wanted just that, yet he feared embarrassing her, or being ridiculed. It was an irrational fear with Triss, and he knew that, but it was something long drilled into him, ingrained.

She kissed me in front of everyone, but she's so upset... if I kiss her now, what will she do? She's not ashamed to kiss me here, or did she do it to spite that girl? I doubt she let me kiss her right now. His fears were unwarranted, as the look in her eyes said the opposite, the sorceress wanted just that. As she faced him, she bit her lip in frustration, hoping he'd make a move, any move. Her mind raced, her hand trailed her gown and she pinched against the fabric. Kiss me, Geralt, just kiss me. Arrrh, I shouldn't have to ask... ..Stop looking at my lips witcher if you refuse to act on your urges. "I don't want to leave your side. Be careful, please!" She whispered.

Beautiful, even when she's upset; her freckles, her nose, those eyes... "I will." Geralt growled, as her hands slipped from his. I should have kissed her.

"I love you, witcher." Triss murmur, then took a few steps away from him. She paused each step felt unfamiliar, unwelcome.

"Love you too." Geralt replied, as she walked away.

He stood for a moment watching his sorceress slowly drift farther from him. She had seen him off many times, yet their departure had never been so solemn. He turned and took the reins of his mare Roach, who had followed the couple as they strolled. The witcher climbed into his saddle and ordered Roach forward. A quick lurch from his mare and he was in a full gallop, racing through the courtyard towards the palace gates. Triss stopped at the sound of Roach's whinnying. She spun to watch her witcher disappear from her sight, she held her fluttering hair, then covered her face against the breeze. Please take care of yourself, Geralt. I can't imagine what will happen to me, what my life would be, if I lose now. She thought to herself, then took a deep breath and confidently walked towards the noblewomen who had so boldly flirted with him in her presence. She singled out the young women like a panther stalking her prey, her strides were deliberate and relished, just as a guard broke her concentration and gaze.

"Good morning, Lady Merigold." The man's voice sounded through the faceplate of his helmet, a deep raspy growl. His armor clung, and the chain mail beneath his breast plates rattled as he turned and greeted the sorceress.

"Good morning, Das," Triss replied, and continued her confident stride towards the group of noblewomen.

Everyone fell silent as the guard mentioned the sorceress' name. That smug face I won't forget. she frowned, making her way towards the young noblewoman and her companions.

"She is Triss Merigold…?" One lady whispered softly and lowered her eyes. She was younger, much younger, her hair concealed beneath a veil similar to those worn by the other noblewomen.

"Come here, little girl!" Triss ordered, gesturing with her finger, not concealing the disdain in her voice.

The young woman slowly walked forward with arms folded across her body. Suspecting the reason she was forcefully summoned, she answered, "Yes, m'lady, you wish to speak to me?"

"Do you wish to know who I am? I stood next to that 'vigorous witcher', held his arm and kissed him." Triss said, as the young woman raised her head surprised, she had not said the word 'vigorous' aloud only in her thoughts.

"No, m'lady, I know who you are, and I've heard rumors about you and the witcher Geralt of Rivia." She replied, as her eyes gazed at the floor.

"Look at me, girl, and explain yourself! If you know of us, why did you show me such disrespect?"

"Forgive Lady Yvette, m'lady Merigold, she is young and eager. She's not felt the warmth of a man." Another noblewoman said. She was older, strands of her brown hair were visible against the side of her face as Triss glared at the woman.

"If I wish to address you, I will look at you." Triss replied sharply.

"Excuse my intrusion, m'lady." The noblewoman said, as she backed away hastily.

"Yvette is it? Explain yourself, girl!"

"Forgive me, Lady Merigold, I meant no offense. Mere talk, nothing more. I meant nothing by it…" The young woman replied, her voice shaking as she spoke.

"Oh no, 'This witcher has a reputation. You must have him.' Those were your thoughts, as I stood beside him, in his arms, and you dare trifle to think such things?"

"No, Lady Merigold—I mean, yes—I find your witcher appealing, but…" Yvette stopped and lowered her head as she noticed Triss' scathing eyes.

"You will do well to know that Geralt is mine. I love him, I care deeply for him—all of him. I have no reason to tell you this, you silly girl, but I will. I am in love with that witcher, not for his prowess, not for his looks, though he is dashing, but for everything else you fail to see. Like me he isn't perfect, but I love all his flaws and most of all willingness to stand for those who cannot defend themselves, he is more noble than any man you can put forward. He means the world to me, do you hear? I saw in him what others would not." Triss said, as the woman stared unable to speak, frightened by the flinty gaze in the sorceress' eyes.

"Love him? Noble? M'lady, he is but a mere witcher. A scarred mut..." A noble woman gibe, then fell silent as she quickly drew the sorcerer's eyes.

"I dare you to finish your statement. You would have him warm your bed, yet you think of him as nothing more than a plaything. You lack the decency to show him the slightest respect—" Triss sneered, scoffing mockingly, desperate to conceal her growing anger. "—people like you sling insults as he walks by, yet you cower at his feet when monsters come calling."

The noblewoman curled her lip, "Cowards?! How dare you? We are no cowa…"

"Shut up! I'll tolerate no one treating the witcher any less than he deserves to be treated—no more! The day I drive him into the arms of such despicable creatures as you five, is the day I deserve to lose his love. I've known women like you, bitter, resentful, unable to truly love him, yet you lay with him, feigning affection to get what you want, then he's discarded. He's not your fucking plaything."

"How dare you speak to us this way! You are a mere advisor to our king, we are nobility!" One woman shouted.

"Do not speak while I am speaking! I pay you the respect accorded you by your words and deeds, which is more than you afford him or I. Interrupt me again and you'll see the extent of my disdain for you. If you knew all Geralt's done, all he's endured, for people like you, you'd dignify him a hero. Instead, you treat him like an animal. Well, I know—deep in my…" Triss whispered, and drew the attention of the silent crowd. She tugged at her chest, her heart, as she moved closer to the noblewomen who backed away in unison.

A quiet young sorceress, stood silently watching Triss' exchange with the woman, she was a mage in the court, one of many yet held no position of significance and they had never spoken. She turned her gaze to a guard, his face coldly concealed behind his visor. He snapped a sharp posture, stood straight as she spoke, "Das? What did they do to anger her?"

"The nobles were rude to the lady and her witcher, m'lady sorceress." The guard replied without turning to look at the sorceress.

She is fearless. "It's way past due someone put those five in their place." The sorceress whispered, then continued toward the palace as Triss continued her tongue-lashing.

"You know nothing about us, you could spend a lifetime thinking about us and you'll never understand the depth of my love for that man and as for you little girl!" She turned her attention on Yvette, the young noblewoman, "If you so much as look at him with such thoughts, as if he's your plaything, or show such disrespect toward me, your face will not be fit for public viewing! Have I made myself clear enough?"

"Yes, m'lady." Yvette answered quietly.

"You are no threat to me when it comes to his love, but that doesn't mean I'll let you, or anyone else, just waltz up and disrespect me. We would've politely greeted each other this morning, ladies, instead you chose to try my patience in your attempt to humiliate me. I don't know who you believe I was, but let this be a lesson, a warning to you and others like you. I don't want to see your faces anymore." Triss said as she turned and walked away. The noblewomen looked mortified, as courtiers, mages and guards stared at them, whispering in disapproval. "And yes."

"M'lady?" Yvette mumbled hoarsely.

"You were wondering; the answer is yes. He is insanely amazing in bed—my bed! Triss replied.

She felt a warmth creep up her body as she turned, a strong gust blew her hair and gown forward, nearly blowing her shawl from her neck as she gathered herself. She made the short stroll up the stairs and through the wooden doors into the palace. Her days were full, the lure of being a reasoned, moral voice in politics, with all its duplicity and dealings, appealed to her. Triss could get lost in her work, and often did. With her man gone, she would have to now. Determined to regain what the mages had lost in Novigrad during the witch hunts. She quickly made her way to the council chambers and sealed herself in, hoping to immerse herself in work and take her mind off her wolf, but the sorceress' efforts were in vain. Dreading the days ahead, absent Geralt's touch, her thoughts began to wander and already she'd begun to miss him. She could never focus whenever Geralt was away. Since their move to Pont Vanis, after leaving Corvo Bianco in Toussaint, she had kept a close, worried eye on him. He took more contracts than she liked and often returned to her arms with injuries and cuts to his body, leaving her to patch him up. She scolded him, to no avail, yet never refused him his requests or demands. Triss had planned to spend the evening with her witcher in the hills; a candlelit dinner, a nice bottle of Sepremento from their vineyard, but his monster contract had foiled those plans. Inside the empty chamber, the opened door leading to the balcony overlooking the city called to her. It was windy as she walked out with her hands longingly wrapped around her body, her sweet dainty waist, smooth stomach and beautiful curves reminisced, aching for her lover's caress. Triss felt a slight guilt. Her reaction, and how she handled Geralt, was harsh. She knew discretion was warranted when handling such matters, however such blatant disrespect from the young women had to be dealt with, she thought. Now her witcher was gone, and she could not remove her thoughts from him.

I was upset and harsh with him, and now he's gone... No, he deserved it, flirting with her like that! She sighed Two days before he returns, two days of worrying, before I can see and hold my witcher again. I have to make it up to him when he gets back.

Triss touched her lips, biting her fingernails as she smiled, then smelled her shawl; the leathery scent of his armor remained on her clothing still. The voice of the other mages entering the council chamber interrupted her daydreams. It was time for the sorceress to return to her duties. The mages were all hard at work. Most had taken back to their craft, but all in all they were all working for the good of the kingdom. It had been some time since they all gathered. She peered from the balcony, as the other sorceresses and mages took to greeting each other with the normal pleasantries of such gatherings.

***][***

Meanwhile on the hunt…

He arrived at the local town, far on the outskirts of the settlement southwest of Pont Vanis. No one had seen the griffin in days and none could say for certain if the witcher had to face a pair of griffins or a single monster. Remembering his sorceress' warning, he prepared himself to face a pair of monsters. Geralt spoke to the local magistrate about the contract, and they agreed-upon a sum of six thousand Koviri bezants. The witcher complained that the sum was too high; he didn't need the money, but the magistrate simply wished the problem solved, so he accepted. These type of contracts were the usual on the path, yet he had taken down monsters far worse than a pair of griffins. He gazed at the magistrate's awkward arrangements of roses, then fixed his eyes on the man as he mumbled to himself.

Strange... Geralt thought. The man cared more for his roses than the people in his charge.

The magistrate stood, his belly pushing against the table as he shifted his chair, "If there's nothing else, witcher, the guards will see you out. Take the coin, I trust you will dispatch the monster."

"Hmm, first, where was the site of the last attack?" Geralt asked, shifting his body awkwardly as he gazed at the man tending his roses.

"Ah, yes, a witcher must investigate, due diligence I suppose. Well, the monster was last seen on the southern roads, just north of the old windmill. I sent my guards to search the area. Four returned, the fifth was killed."

"Any idea where the griffin nests?"

"No, but the first attack happened in the tall bushes, near the southern roads." The magistrate answered, then returned to plucking the stem from the odd looking plants.

I'll start there. "I need bait—a sheep—and I also need to find some buckthorn. Herbalist, any nearby?"

"The local herbalist is in the town to the north. He's old and difficult to comprehend. A loon if I've ever seen one. There, girl. I pluck a few leaves and you are as beautiful as ever." The magistrate mumbled.

"Hmm, I'll manage." Geralt replied. I should have bought the buckthorn in Pont Vanis. This magistrate is insane.

Geralt walked out of manor, flanked by two frightened guards, then walked between the buildings until he'd had reached the edge of town. He then mounted his mare and rode out towards the northern town to find the herbalist. His journey cost him precious time. The witcher arrived at the herbalist's just past midday, and cautiously approached the small hut. Before he could announce his presence, the door opened and out came an old man. He was well-aged, unkempt, his garment was covered in dirt, fingers stained by plants, and the scent of potent mixtures hugged the air and stung the witcher's senses.

The old man stared for a moment as if he'd seen a monster or a wraith, then moved about frantically, pausing only to shout. "A witcher—the witcher—the White Wolf of Rivia himself."

"You know me?" Geralt asked.

"Know you? No... no, I don't know you, White Wolf, just stories of your deed, but the portrait fits. You are Geralt of Rivia."

"And you are the herbalist?" Geralt replied.

"Herbalist, yes. I was but a young man in Temeria when the folks told stories of your deeds."

"I need buckthorn, got to bait a griffin."

"Buckthorn—buckthorn, yes." The man said as he retrieved the buckthorn and handed it to Geralt. "The river holds buckthorn, but the water is cold, so no one dare enter."

Damn, the smell. "This will do. Are you alright, old man?"

"White Wolf, I haven't seen a member of your order in years, yes... years. You must stay. Stay and share your knowledge. Where is the sorceress from Temeria, is she here?"

"Triss is in Pont Vanis and she makes her own potions." Geralt replied and left the coin in the man's hands. "Sorry, I can't stay, maybe some other time. Farewell, old man."

He walked out, quickly mounted Roach to continue on his journey. Geralt rode through the Koviri countryside, admiring the scenery, yet eager to return to Pont Vanis where his sorceress waited. Later that day, he arrived at the site of the monster attack. It was early afternoon and daylight was fading fast as he carefully searched the site for clues. There were signs of a struggle nearby: a wagon smashed against the tree, a dead horse still attached and half eaten. The witcher carefully checked the rotten carcass taking care not to disturb the scene. There were deep claw marks on the horse and the creature's entrails were exposed. Crows and ravens had pecked on the rotten flesh, one eye was missing, the other was glazed, covered with flies, yet opened and bloodshot as though the mare was eaten while it still drew breath. He searched for the wagon's owner but the smell, and dried pools of human blood on the horse and wagon left naught to hope. The owner was dead, carried away by the griffin to its nest.

"Hmm, powerful creature, smashed the mare, deep claws marks. Didn't feed on the horse, revenge killing maybe? Took the owner." He said aloud. "I can follow the blood trail and track it into the woods."

A few steps into the brushes he paused, "The creature fed here." More trail leading away.

The witcher mounted his mare and slowly followed the faint trail of dried blood. Further into the brushes, he stumbled upon the griffin's nest. He approached it cautiously, but the creature's nest was empty; decomposing corpses strewed the ground.

The merchant. Shame, He thought. No signs of the griffins.

After inspecting the week-old corpses, Geralt concluded the creatures had abandoned their nest. Something drove them away, something big. He searched the area and found a large monster track and signs of a vicious fight, but no bodies or blood.

Griffin was wounded... if I'm lucky, one is already dead. Another monster competing for territory? Not my contract, and this one didn't seem to bother with the local towns.

It was late afternoon when the witcher finished his search, and the remnants of daylight hugged the horizon, so he decided to spend the night at the local inn. He strapped Roach and his bait in the barn, paid the innkeeper to water and feed both animals, then retired to a small uninviting room soon after. Normally, he'd bed down outside under the night stars, but with the town so close to the creature's hunting grounds, Geralt chose the inn over the frigid night air. He missed the warmth of his lover's bed though he'd hoped to get a good night's rest before his hunt. Alone with his thoughts, he found it difficult to close his eyes. The bed felt empty, cold lacking a certain warmth. He sat on the straw filled bed thinking about the day's events, to his surprise, he'd had an argument with his sorceress. Normally, Triss would simply brush him off with a kiss to avoid conflict, and Geralt always welcomed such action from his sorceress. Neither had a lasting taste for bickering, though their relationship was not without its trials. Her words were stinging, yet honest, lacking insults or any hint of patronizing remarks. He chuckled, her willingness to fend off would be courters was deeply appealing, yet he knew he had to face his actions and make amends when he returned to their home in Pont Vanis. Triss had raised her voice, she even called his actions 'rude' and 'hurtful'.

"She deserves better." Geralt mumbled, searching for a way to apologize, to make it right when he returned.

He removed his armor and swords, then placed them against the wall as he lay on the bed, while his thoughts raced. To calm himself, and clear his mind, the witcher decided to meditate for a while, but meditation proved useless.

Damn! I screwed up. I've never seen her react so angrily. Maybe the trip to Velhad will calm her down. I hope. I have to sleep. Kill two griffins in the morning, then head back to Pont Vanis. Damn! This bed is itchy. Mmm... her face, those freckles... gets me even when she's upset. She is so beautiful. He thought.

As the moon rose high into the night sky, he leaned against the wall, clutching his sword in hand, then slowly drifted to sleep. His short dreams were filled with a certain sorceress, Triss Merigold. His mumbled words throughout the night were of her. He dreamt of the sweet kiss of her lips each night before they slept and the softness of her fingers each morning as he woke, the sweetness of her voice, then his dreams well soured by the sadness on her face as they separated. He churned through the night, waking at the crack of dawn. Geralt donned his armor, then quietly slipped out of the inn. The witcher entered the barn and noticed the bait sheep had gotten loose during the night and escaped. His mare Roach has also chewed through the rotten post and fled the barn. Leading outside were two sets of tracks, a sheep closely followed by a horse. Geralt slammed his fist against a large beam, knocking over a second wooden post as he raised his head to the creaking building. He'd had a restless night and his thoughts were still with his sorceress back in Pont Vanis. He squatted to check the tracks on the ground, then rose to his feet.

Animals escaped. Roach is nearby, I can hear her, just follow the whinnying. Sheep, too.

He followed both sets of tracks out the barn, past the inn, and around a second building. Around the bend, he noticed the sheep slowly moving in the field with Roach following close behind, guarding, tracking the animal. Geralt cast Axii on the sheep, strapped the animal across his saddle, then mounted his horse and rode for the site of the last griffin attack.

I need to hurry, I'm already a day behind. "Faster, Roach, faster!" He barked, as the mare raced across the open field, "Yeah, quit whining and go faster. I know what you're thinking. Let me guess..." Look, Geralt, I may be a horse, but if you say 'faster' one more time I will throw your ass off. Idiot... you were talking to another woman with Triss standing right there next to you. All these months... didn't I teach you anything about women?

Sometime later he arrived at the site of the griffin's attack. The road had been abandoned for some time, and it was perfect for his trap. Geralt moved to the nearby clearing and emplaced the sheep, fastening the creature to a post, then baiting it with buckthorn. The witcher retreated to a nearby brush just as he had done with Vesemir the last time they hunted together, then waited for the griffins to appear. He waited for an hour with no signs of the griffins. It was already midday, the hunt would last another day if the monster pair failed to appear. He sat resting his body against a boulder, but before he could get comfortable and relax, he heard the sounds of two large wings in the distance and the unmistakable screeches of griffins as they approached the bait.

"Sorry, sheepy, but I have to let them eat you." Geralt mumbled, as the griffin slammed into the sheep, ripping it apart with claws and beak. A second griffin landed just beside the first and the witcher stood silent as the first creature tore the sheep's flesh and fed it to its mate.

"Time for work." He said, then raised his sword as a lone griffin gave a piercing cry and turned to face him. The second, a female, took to the skies. A strong powerful gust hit him as she flapped her wings, screeching. "Come on!"

He cast Quen and slowly moved in for an attack, but the creature raised its wings and shielded its neck and head. "Damn, it's strong..."

The griffin raised its wings, hitting him with a strong gust of wind. Geralt stuck his sword into the ground to brace himself as the creature attacked. He rolled backward then jumped to his right, and struck the monster behind the neck. It screeched in pain, staggered backwards, then took flight and circled overhead. He moved slowly, stepping backward glancing at both griffins circling high above. He had gravely wounded the male royal griffin, but the creature suddenly flew down towards him in a desperate attack. The witcher easily dodged the charge, as the griffin crashed into the ground, then slowly turned to face him. Off balance, agitated and bleeding heavily, it attacked while its mate continued to slowly circle above, keeping her distance. It was strange, too easy. The male griffin was slow, weak and its movements lacked the ferocity of any previous bout with a royal griffin.

It was wounded by the other monster competing for territory, and didn't recover fully. I'll finish this with my next swing. Geralt thought, slowly side-stepping with his sword raised high.

He cast Igni, releasing a stream of fire burning the creature's face, then quickly climbed on the griffin's back and severed its head with a single swing of his sword. He jumped down and quickly turned his attention to the second griffin now screeching angrily as it circled high above. The gust of wind against his face, a familiar scent... Triss' scent from his armor.

His mind drifted to his lover's words. That was rude and hurtful. And you! You encouraged her! Good-bye. "Damn! Not now!" He said aloud as the griffin crashed into him and knocked him off his feet.

His Quen shield cracked and faded. He quickly rose to his feet only to face the griffin as it rushed forward towards him. He swung his sword at the creature's neck, but the monster grabbed hold of his blade with its mouth and violently clawed at his body. It's long sharp claws tore through his armor and caused a large wound on the witcher's back, just as he pulled his sword free slashing the creature's jaw. Together, both witcher and monster screeched in pain. The griffin's tongue hung out and to the side, blood sprayed with each agitated step. It was relentless, unafraid, seeking vengeance for its mate. Geralt moved in for the kill, but the wounded creature lunged at him clawing at his arms, then buried its claws into his chest. He staggered back briefly, then lunged forward ignoring his wound and pain.

Shit! I'm bleeding badly! Got to end this quickly... "Let's end this." He muttered.

His movements were much slower, the wounds on his back and chest bled profusely, but Geralt easily severed the creature's head in a single blow. This one is pregnant…and I killed her mate, that's why she was so aggressive.

He peeled open his armor, sticking his hand against the opened wound, then tightened his armor, applying pressure. Using the hook from his belt, he attached both heads to his saddle, then retrieved a witcher's potion brewed by the sorceress.

Kiss, Triss made this. He thought, then consumed it to slow the bleeding, as he mounted his horse and rode for Pont Vanis. Should stop the bleeding. Damn, she'll be upset I let this happen again.

Geralt tapped his mare gently and the horse, sensing his distress, jumped then sped away. His hand was slick with blood as he felt his wounds. His vision blurred as blood poured down his armor, down the side of his horse. Roach whinnied as he kicked his heels. Geralt had lost his grip on the reins, his hands went numb as he slumped, then fell off his mare and crashed onto the ground. The violent fall tore open the wound on his body and the pain snapped him back to his senses. He hurried to his feet and continued the slow trek towards Pont Vanis, with Roach walking by his side. He consumed a second Kiss potion to stop the bleeding, but felt nothing.

"I have to get back to Triss..." The bleeding slowed, I have some feeling in my hands. Come on, Roach, take me home, you know the way." Geralt muttered, then mounted his mare once again and continued towards Pont Vanis.

The journey was rigorous and the witcher lost consciousness many times along the way, only to be aided by his trusted companion Roach, as the mare raced through the brushes. Always a loyal steed, Roach bypassed the city center and made good time for their home perched in the hills. Exhausted, she galloped faster as he slipped deeper into unconsciousness and leaned against her back. Blood poured through his armor and down the horse's mane and forelegs. His heartbeat slowed as daylight began to fade. It was late evening when Roach rounded the bend and raced towards the home Geralt shared with his lover, Triss Merigold. Panic-stricken, the mare came to a sudden halt some distance from his home and whinnied as he slid off her back onto the ground. The witcher was unfocused, delusional from the heavy loss of blood. He slowly rose to his feet, unsheathed his silver sword with a surprising quickness, gripping it tightly, and then slowly walked toward the door.

"Monster on your back, Roach, run, I'll handle this." He muttered, then pushed open the unlocked door and entered.

Roach neighed and followed closely, then ran across the yard as Geralt closed the door behind him. The mare was restless, and continued to neigh as he disappeared into the darkness. Stumbling through his home, searching for his lover, the scent of pastries and cakes filled the air. Beneath that, the subtle hint of witcher potions from her lab, but he was attuned to her scent; her sweet fragrance captured his senses. Though he could not see or hear her nearby, Geralt called out to Triss, as Roach peered through the open window, then continued pacing frantically across the yard.

***][***

The Present…

Earlier that day, Triss had felt a slight shortness of breath as she sat during a council meeting, her chest ached as she rested her hand against her body. Attributing the pain to stress and worry, the sorceress calmed herself and continued with her duties in the court. As night fell, she was anxious to return to her home and see Geralt. Normally, she'd just open a portal to her lab, but today the sorceress decided to surprise her witcher and open the portal outside their home. She stepped through, then emerged in the yard, just a short walk from the porch. She was greeted by Roach's whines, as the mare frantically pranced about. The horse' behavior was odd, although it wasn't the first time Triss had seen the mare so frantic. The strong acidic smell of monster blood hugged the air, almost masked by the strong evening breeze. She tried to calm the creature, but Roach retreated into the shadows, just out of her reach. In the dull light, she could barely make out the severed heads of two griffins hanging from either side of Geralt's saddle. A frightening sight, yet she was in no mood to tend to the horse before seeing him.

He did it again... Geralt! "Sorry, Roach, I asked that man not to leave trophies hanging on you... I know how you feel, I wouldn't want those hideous things attached to me either." Triss mumbled quietly, as the mare snuffed and backed away. Well, I'm not touching those... He'll deal with it later. Right now, I need to get my hands on him.

Neighing Roach snuffed, galloping back and forth.

"Not now, Roach! I need to see Geralt. I promise, at daybreak, I'll make him clean you up…I'll watch him and make sure he's nice to you. Sorry, girl." Triss replied, a slight frustration in her voice, he had left his trophies attached to his mare.

She ran her fingers through her hair, ruffling her locks, then tucked the right side of her hair behind her ear. The enchantress shifted her gown, then adjusted her breasts, attempting to make them larger than they were. The cool breeze gave her gooseflesh; her body ached at the mere thought of her lover's hands rummaging down her sides, beneath her gown. Having been absent from his touch for days, Triss moistened her lips, then straightened her posture. Her strides were slow, deliberate, anticipating his reaction. In her excited state, the sorceress had missed the subtle clues hinting something was desperately awry. She continued towards their home, ignoring Roach's whines, sliding her hand along the door as she reached down to remove her slippers. She dropped them beside her feet, then took two long strides making her way into the parlor. The fireplace hadn't been lit for some time. The air smelled stale, of monster blood and witcher potions, though that wasn't unusual after each hunt. In truth, she loved the aftertaste witcher potions left on Geralt's lips. She lit the fireplace from afar, then each candle, one after the other, starting above the fireplace and working her way to the door.

Triss unfastened her cloak and hung it on the chair. Where is he?! "Witcher, I'm home! Come out and let me greet your lips! I've been waiting days to kiss you, so stop playing games and come out. I have a surprise for you. Geralt… Lover?"

Roach jumped across the yard, then poked her head through the open window, desperate to alert Triss to Geralt's injuries as she snuffed and scuffed, 'Neigh... neigh.'

"You won't believe those fucking nobles... the gall of those rich imbeciles. They complain about their pockets and do little to help the people. I'm so exhausted... and I intend to snug myself in your arms. I missed you, you know? I've seemingly read every tariff document in existence and I don't wish to ever do that again. I listened to the nobles bickering all day and then the King asked me to mediate their disputes... you'd think I was their mother." She chuckled, "Your mare is out of control, I asked you not to leave monsters heads on her." Geralt, if you're trying to startle me again…

'Neigh!' Roach snuffed again, this time scratching her hoof against the home, as she peeked through the window.

"Dammit, Roach calm down. What is the matter with you? I know you are home, Geralt. Roach is outside with monster heads still attached to her saddle." Triss shouted as she stared at the whining mare. She rested her hand on her hips, as her thoughts ran wild.

Hmm, he normally takes care of the fireplace, at least... what's going on? "Geralt, I want to see you and hold you—now! I've really missed you and I am in no mood for games, so come out."

The glimmer of candlelight and flames from the fireplace slowly lit the room as she tousled her hair once more, eager, almost angry that he hadn't appeared, then she felt a soft stickiness under her feet. There was something unusual on the floor and Triss reached down to take a closer look. Her eyes widened and her mind raced with fear as she recognized the pool of coagulated blood.

She touched it, almost hesitantly, then rubbed her fingers together, the texture, the feel. Blood?! Geralt's blood?! "Oh shit! No! Ger... Geralt?!"

She raised her body, a sudden faintness gripped her. Panic and hysteria held her hostage as the sorceress fell over, rushing to stand. Now fully aware that something was amiss, her demeanor quickly changed from playful, to that of a deeply concerned lover. She rushed towards the hall following the droplets of blood, then rounded the corner and froze, clutching her chest, at the horrid sight of Geralt curled on the floor just inside her lab. He was face down in a pool of his own blood, unconscious and unresponsive, clutching her apron as she rushed to his side, crashing against the door to get to him. Triss dropped to the floor, rolled the witcher over and held his head against her knees. He had small lacerations to his arms, a deep wound on his back and signs of injuries to his chest and shoulders.

"Ger…Geralt! No-no-no! Please answer me... wake up! Open your eyes please…please…please!" She pleaded, rubbing his forehead, smearing blood across it, "Wake up, baby! Don't do this to me!"

His hand fell to the floor limp, his armor slid against her hand, slick with blood. She pried his eyes open, the pupils had rolled back into his head. She screamed, then pulled his head and tucked it into her chest, her eyes swelled.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" You can't do this now, Geralt... "Don't you fucking leave me alone in this world, again... I won't survive if you die... please don't leave me." Triss continued frantically rocking her body as she hugged his head in her lap.

She ran her bloodied fingers through his hair, then kissed his lips. Thick dark blood rolled down the sides of his cheeks. Triss desperately applied her magic to save him, she used her healing abilities without fully knowing the extent of the witcher's injuries. Risking her own safety, she cast a powerful spell holding him as he was, stabilizing him, while she frantically assessed his injuries. The spell had taken a heavy toll on her body; it was dangerous to attempt such powerful incantations on her own, yet in her state she cared little about her own safety. The sorceress used magic that had once been applied to heal her wounds, daring such dangerous feat out of pure love for him. Unable to contain her emotions, she recalled the horrid memory of seeing him die in the distant past and vowed never to relive that experience. She conjured another spell and used her magic again, unrestrained, to stop his bleeding. She wiped the sweat off her brow with her forearm, kissed his lips, then quickly removed his armor to expose the wounds on his chest and back. She retrieved an enhanced witcher's potion she'd brewed at his request, then tenderly held his head as she poured it into his open mouth, though Geralt could not swallow. Risking injury and death, Triss took the second vial of potion into her mouth and fed it to him cupping his lips with hers. In her desperation, she had ignored her own sensitivity to potions, she shunned the knowledge that witcher potions were deadly if consumed.

She lifted Geralt's body hugging his bare skin close to her chest, to guard his wounds. He was heavy, limp. Triss dragged him part ways into her lab, with magic the sorceress could've easily moved him, but all her spells had fled her mind, save one, while she carried his heavy body in her arms. She felt numb; her muscles ached as she summoned all her strength struggling to hold him. Her gown was slick with blood, her hands slipping from his body, Triss voiced her frustration with her inability to lift him onto the table. She was weakened from her use of healing magic, and more could certainly harm her yet his condition left her panicked. Her eyes were blurred with tears, as she kissed his lips and forehead. Geralt's blood smeared across her face and lips. She was crouched on the floor hugging him tightly. She kissed him again and again, then tried to move him once more. As gently as she could she, placed him on the table retrieving her surgery kit, a small leather pouch. With the urgency of a devoted lover, and a skilled healer, Triss went to work stitching the wounds on his chest, arms and back. Using more of her already weakened magic, she did her best to heal the deep wounds on his body, but she could only do so much. Close to losing herself, the enchantress applied her magic until she had reached physical and mental exhaustion. Though losing consciousness, Triss stubbornly continued her frantic attempts to heal him, but Geralt's injuries were too severe. Only time and her care could heal such wounds.

Dazed and weakened, she stumbled across her lab, retrieved a bowl of fresh water and a washcloth, then gently wiped his body clean. Triss skillfully applied dressing to his wounds, then checked her witcher once more, making sure she hadn't missed anything. She rested on the floor at his side, caring for him late into the night, then placed him in their bed with magic. Sleep would not come to her, while he lay wounded and unconscious, so she laid her head on the bed beside him during the night, whispering to him until morning. As dawn broke, the sorceress dispatched a handwritten letter to the royal court informing King Tancred of her leave of absence for personal matters. Regardless of the king's approval, Triss had already resigned herself to nursing him back to health, vowing never to leave his side.

Four days passed, and she continued to care for Geralt day and night. As he laid in bed, injured and unresponsive, she knew he should have awoken to her by now. She was alone and found it hard to breathe. Her heart ached to hear his voice, and feel her witcher's breath upon her cheeks, as he whispered into her ears each morning. There was a sigh of emptiness as she cared for him; he was beside her yet so far away. She placed her tiny palm flat against his wide firm hand, then laced her fingers with his, squeezing tightly. Her eyes had swollen, moist with tears, as she placed his hands against her cheeks, yet they lacked his gentle touch. Triss longed to feel his hands on her body, and gaze into his eyes at his awkward smile. She sat on the edge of their bed, then leaned her head on his chest and wrapped his arms around her body. The next morning, Triss brought a small tray of medicines and fresh bandages from her lab and gently placed it on the nightstand beside him. She turned her focus to her lover, lying motionless. His breathing was normal at times and other times he struggled. She grew more concerned each day he remained bedridden. She stayed at his side and whispered to him, with her head resting on their bed beside him. His injuries had mostly healed, however Geralt remained unresponsive and her words had failed to reach him, or so she believed.

His body is warmer than usual. Fever? This can't be happening; the treatment must be working. His wounds are healing nicely! She thought to herself.

Sitting by his bedside, Triss gently touched her lips against his forehead and whispered into his ears. She placed her hands on his cheeks and smiled, as she recalled his actions each morning when he opened his eyes to her kisses. Hopeless, she kissed his lips again, wishing he would open his eyes, but Geralt remained still.

"I miss you, Geralt. I miss you so much, you need to wake up." Triss whispered to him, "You promised, you promised me a happy ending, remember? You said, 'Don't worry, Triss, we'll have our happy ending someday.' Well, I'm here now, and I want you back. I want to have a life with you…please..."

I've waited so long for you to be mine... I can't lose you again, witcher.

"I have no one in Pont Vanis, just you. How did this happen? I'm so damn stupid... I let you go alone, while I play the 'good advisor'. I should've been at your side where I belong." She whispered. Ciri, I have to tell Ciri. I don't know what to say to her, I don't know how to face her, I let everyone down, I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry.

It had been days since the sorceress rested her eyes. She cried herself to sleep at his side, then woke during the night, frantically lifting the bedspread to check his body. Triss removed the blood-soaked bandages and carefully inspected the wounds on his chest just below his clavicle. She had given him a regular dose of witcher's potions, and the smaller wounds on his body had already healed. The lacerations on his stomach and back had also healed surprisingly quick too. Gently, she replaced Geralt's bandages with fresh ones. Although exhausted, and drained, Triss used more of her magic to aid his recovery and managing to accelerate the healing of the wound on his chest. She kissed his lips, and hoped he'd wake to return her kiss, but Geralt's lips were cold, absent feeling. She closed her eyes, tears rolled down her cheeks, as she recalled in the distant past when her kiss went unanswered by those very lips.

"How could you do this to me? I want you back, I need you back. Just say something!" Triss cried silently.

She placed her head on the bed and rested his hand on her neck, "I can't do this without you, so why won't you wake up and come back to me? I'm a sorceress, but I am nothing without you by my side. You're the only one I want to spend this life with." Please, please, don't leave me again! My heart is too fragile witcher, too weak... and I refuse to let you go.

In her thoughts, she played every possible outcome of his fight with the monster. Had the griffin's strikes landed just a little farther right on his body, Geralt would have certainly perished in a distant field, alone. She clutched her chest at the thought, and struggled to clear her mind. Unable to focus, and exhausted, she whispered into her lover's ears "Get some rest and come back to me." Triss whispered, then rested her head on his chest. Sleeping by his side for a little, while she woke just before morning and spent the remainder of her day caring for him. As night approached, she gently washed Geralt's body, replaced his dressings, then took a long hot bath. That night, Triss nestled her body next to him in their bed, but stayed awake to care for him. She told him stories and ancient legends, all the while lovingly stroking his skin. As mornings broke, she woke early and treated their home to the sweet-smelling scent of roses, and then spent the day at Geralt's side s she had done each day since she discovered her wither wounded. She sat at his bedside, drifted between lectures and memories of their past together, then voiced her plans for their future in Kovir. Triss moved her hands across his cheeks, then climbed into bed and hovered her face just above his.

"Do you remember when you first truly confessed your love to me? You told me you loved me before, but on that dock you were Geralt, my Geralt. You had your memories back and you chose me. It was beautiful, a perfect place for a confession and when I heard those words, I knew my long wait was over. I knew then your heart belonged to me. I waited so long to hear you say those words, and now I'm waiting for you to say them now." She whispered softly.

"I was so determined to start over, but I couldn't leave you behind. Your words shattered the walls I built to protect myself from the many heartaches."

I am in love with you, Geralt. That silly smile and your unromantic jokes… "As you stared at me with those eyes, you completely tore my heart apart. I couldn't believe you actually said it. I thought I was in a dream, a dream I hoped they would never end."

Say something, witcher, anything, just tell me you love me! "You remember the lighthouse, don't you, Geralt? Of course you do. We talked about our life together, here in Kovir. I had only dreams back then, but our life here is so much more than I imagined..."

Come back to me. "I need you, just you, and no one else. Come back..." She whispered softly into his ear, kissed his lips and held her lips against his for a while. "You're breaking my heart…"

Sometimes the journey is rocky, and you encounter bad things along the way. Just remember, even if the journey is full of grief the destination can still be wonderful. If you hope for a beautiful romantic story that explores Geralt and Triss intimately, then keep reading and follow (I will do my best). If you want a boring story where everything is made of sugar, I'm sorry. I am a Triss fan, enough said.

This quote is for all the Triss lovers in the house:

"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death."

-Robert Fulghum-

Remember:

"Everything you can imagine is real."

-Pablo Picasso-

Thanks for reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think I am always looking forward to improving my writing and ideas.