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Chapter Text

Twilight coloured the edge of the horizon red as the Witcher kneeled alone in a field. For a moment, he looked over at the crumbling walls of the elven ruin at the edge of the field, watching for any sign of the spectre. When he was certain all was still quiet, he brought his attention back to the blade oil he had prepared, and started to grease his silver blade. His white hair was pulled back in a ponytail and his scarred face looked tense, as if he expected a difficult fight.

At a safe distance, two horses grazed, lazily swishing their tails. Jaskier was just about to sit down beside the horses with a blanket, when he noticed a woman approach from the treeline. Her long skirts trailed over the grass, yet she strode confidently forward, unafraid to sully the gown that hugged her voluptuous body. Jaskier recognised her; she was the person who had paid for the contract. Geralt had briefly talked to her about it back in the village, and Jaskier had watched from a distance, too stunned by the woman's beauty to form words, let alone sentences. Perhaps Geralt's haste to leave the village and find the haunted ruins was meant to prevent Jaskier from embarrassing himself. Jaskier jumped to his feet, excited to have another chance. 

He straightened his coat and tried to wipe the dirt from his trousers as she approached, a feeble attempt to make a good impression. But as she stopped, she didn't even look at Jaskier. Her eyes were on the Witcher's broad shoulders as he sat motionless in the field, the sword lying ready beside him.

"I wouldn't go any closer if I were you…" Jaskier hesitated to call her by any title, and he didn't remember her name. "The wraith is expected to appear soon."

"I know." Her voice was soft like silk, it made Jaskier's heart beat faster. "I've encountered it before. I'm curious to see how the Witcher deals with it."

Trying not to let his eyes stray to her bosom, Jaskier gaped at her. "You've seen it yourself? And survived? That's uh…"

A terrible cry pierced the veiled sky and Geralt leapt to his feet, silver sword ready to strike. Ghostly light flickered in the ruins and he stalked closer to it.

As he wondered whether he was far away enough to be safe, Jaskier's eyes nervously jumped to and fro between the impending danger and the woman standing beside him, who remained surprisingly calm. 

"What… What would a lady… as lovely as yourself… be doing in a godforsaken place like this?" He stammered.

The Witcher pounced over a ruined wall, disappearing out of sight. The clash of metal on stone resounded through the air, accompanied by an inhuman wail.

"I was looking for something." The woman touched the pouch hanging from her belt, as if to check that it was still there. Then she started to walk towards the ruins.

Jaskier grabbed her arm. "Don't go closer." As she pulled herself loose from his grip, he noticed her slender fingers and her long, sharp fingernails. It gave him goosebumps.

"Do you have so little faith in the Witcher?" She chuckled as she continued to the ruins, undeterred even when the walls shook from some kind of heavy impact.

He trotted after her with an uncomfortable smile. "I have experience with…" He shivered when a man's voice groaned painfully on the other side of the wall. "...getting in the way. I wouldn't recommend it."

She gave him a disdainful look. "I see where you're coming from."

Another series of clashes, a ghostly cry and then sudden silence. Only darkness waited beyond the crumbling walls now. 

The woman paused for a moment with her hand on the ancient stonework, listening for the laboured breathing of the Witcher. Something about her presence here and her behaviour made Jaskier uneasy, even though his eyes were drawn to the way her gown hugged the curves of her lower back and hips. She turned the corner and stepped over some rubble and out of view. Jaskier remained in the relative safety of the open field for a little longer.

"Katenka…" Jaskier could hear scorn in Geralt's low, gravelly voice. "I thought you'd have the courtesy to wait until I left before you'd swoop in to steal your treasure."

"I need you to come with me." She replied.

"Oh no no no, sorceress. The Aen Seidhe sealed this tomb. One of them sacrificed his life to become its eternal guardian. He'll be back mere hours from now. I plan to heed his warning. Good luck and goodbye."

Jaskier stood still, one hand on the wall, listening intently. He could hear the sound of footsteps devolving into a struggle. Was she going toe to toe with the Witcher? Jaskier wished he could see it, but he didn't dare to move. He could hear Geralt grunt and her voice, Katenka. She spoke with a strange cadence, as if the words were a poem, or a lullaby. 

"I know you are weary. The wraith has drained you, worn you out. Your body aches. You look into the depths of my eyes. A calm comes over you. My magic is soothing. Irresistible. Your breathing slows. Such a relief. You can relax now. Open up to me. I offer you solace. You ache for it. Your heavy limbs obey me. Surrender to me. You cannot resist."

The metallic clatter of the sword falling to the ground startled Jaskier. He had never seen Geralt drop his sword. Jaskier tried to swallow his fear. Should he go in there and try to disrupt her spell? Heroics were not in his nature. Dread formed a cold pit in his stomach as he found the entrance to the ruins and stepped over the rubble.

The sorceress stood in the middle of the ruined building, holding the Witcher's gaze, one hand grasped him firmly by the ponytail, the other caressed his cheek. Geralt swayed on his feet, his arms hanging limply at his sides. The sword lay discarded behind him. His yellow eyes were large and dull, helplessly drawn to hers. And his mouth hung open with such a blank expression, Jaskier froze in his tracks, staring at the scene.

Katenka blinked slowly and Geralt's eyes followed, as her silken voice continued to enchant him. "You are giving in to me. Your thoughts grind to a halt. Singularly focused on me. On the relief of surrender. The bliss I offer you. My power washes over you, and you succumb." 

He involuntarily leaned towards her, his massive shoulders slumping. When she touched Geralt's forehead, his eyes slammed shut, his knees buckled and she stepped aside as he collapsed on the ground.

Alarmed, Jaskier winced. "What have you done to him?" He blurted out.

Katenka glanced over her shoulder at Jaskier. "This is only temporary, unfortunately."

"Did you lure Geralt here for this? Why?" His voice sounded more shrill than he liked; his fear of the sorceress' power made his heart pound in his throat.

For a moment, she regarded the white-haired man lying senseless at her feet. "I did need him to dispatch the wraith. And now you are going with me inside the tomb."

Crossing his arms as boldly as he could, undermined by his high-pitched voice, he asked: "And why would I do that?"

"Because I'm holding Geralt's mind hostage." She bent down to grasp his ponytail, lifting up his head to show off his unconscious face. With a dull thump, his head fell back down when she released his hair.

Feeling light-headed, Jaskier scoffed. "Well, good luck with that. You'll never find anything without Geralt's mind. Mine won't be of any use to you, I know next to nothing!"

Katenka inclined her head as she raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you proposing to trade places with him?"

"I am not!" His eyes wide, he retreated a step, as if that would save him. 

She regarded him for a moment. "What a shame..." She turned away and clapped her hands. "Get up, Witcher! We're going into the tomb."

The Witcher shuddered and groaned. The muscles of his arms tensed before he managed to push himself up from the ground. There was nothing left of his usual air of danger as he sat there on his hands and knees. With a low grunt, he clutched his face and rubbed his eyes.

Despite himself, Jaskier dashed over to help him up. "Geralt, are you alright?"

"Fuck, no." 

He shook his head and leaned heavily on the much smaller man as he struggled to his feet. Jaskier noticed that something was off about the way he moved, about his posture, as if he was not Geralt, but a lumbering husk of Geralt. With bleary eyes he took in his surroundings, until they rested on the sorceress.

"You look fine to me," she said with a smug grin. "We're going inside. Get your things."

Hiding behind the Witcher's broad shoulders, Jaskier managed to sound more defiant now. "Geralt of Rivia doesn't take orders from…" His voice died in his throat when Geralt unwieldily bowed to the sorceress, and collected his sword and other items from the ground.

"Geralt!" Jaskier huffed and waved his hands in an exasperated gesture. "You could at least try to fight it!"

As the Witcher strapped his sword sheath to his back, his yellow eyes stared off into the distance. "I cannot resist." His voice sounded hoarse.

Jaskier gaped at him, his eyes wide, his hands jittery. "Oh no…" he muttered.

"The entrance is here." Katenka waited for them at the top of a stone stairway leading down. "Are you coming? Or is it just me and Geralt?"

The Witcher drew up next to her and closed his eyes, his head drooping, looking as if he were sleepwalking. 

Jaskier swallowed and hesitated. He couldn't abandon his friend, but what could he possibly do to free Geralt from the sorceress' influence? Even if he did manage to physically overpower her, which was unlikely, would that help? He looked at Katenka, at her curvy figure and her elegant hands. Wrestling her to the ground would not be unpleasant, it was worth a try.

"I apologise profusely, but…" and Jaskier lunged at the sorceress with his fist.

However, Geralt stepped in front of her, absorbing the blow with his arm. In a reflex, he shoved Jaskier to the ground. All without even opening his eyes.

Katenka chuckled as Jaskier scrambled to his feet. He cautiously approached them, looking up at his friend's closed eyes. "Geralt? Are you awake?" 

The Witcher jerked, as if trying to shake the magic out of his head. His fingers curled into fists and a growl rumbled in his throat. "I'm awake. Just not…" He finally managed to wrest his eyes open to look at Jaskier. "...in control."

"Right… So, no attacking the sorceress unless I want my skull broken open. Got it." Jaskier muttered.

"Why don't you go down first?" Katenka stepped away from the stairs to let Jaskier pass with a self-satisfied look.

The stone steps were worn down in the middle and caked with dirt and dust. Jaskier's knees felt weak as he descended into the ancient cellar. There were a million places where he would rather be, including the dungeons of Oxenfurt. When he accidentally stepped on a pebble, he stumbled against the rough wall and whimpered. "It's awfully dark down here."

The sound of heavy footfalls announced that Geralt came down the steps behind him, carrying a blazing torch. The torchlight revealed a narrow, winding corridor and another set of steps leading further down.

"What is this place?" Jaskier asked in a hushed voice, looking up at Geralt.

His jaw clenched, as if he was still trying to fight the mind control, to no avail. A low grunt escaped his lips, but he didn't reply. 

Katenka clapped her hands behind them, the sound echoed through the underground passage. "Keep going."

The effect on Geralt was immediate; he shuddered and his body strode down the stairs while his head slumped forward again. It startled Jaskier and he backed away against the wall. As he stared at Geralt, he found himself wondering what it felt like to be a helpless passenger in one's own body. Could he still trade places with him? Geralt at least stood a chance at opposing the sorceress…

Suddenly, her hand grasped his shoulder, and Jaskier froze. "What's on your mind, boy?" Her breath was warm against his skin and her scent was intoxicating. His mouth opened, but only wordless stammering came out.

Her hand moved to cup his jaw. "You have such beautiful, bright eyes. Perhaps I should have enthralled you instead of that gruff brute. Does he care for you at all?"

He gasped, paralysed. It was so easy to imagine how her piercing look could invade his mind and overpower him. How her silken voice could wrap around him and trap him. What could he possibly do to stop that from happening?

"I like you." With a grin, she let go of him and followed Geralt further down the stairs.

As Geralt and the torch moved away, Jaskier stood in the growing darkness, leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Perhaps it was not too late for him to trade places with Geralt. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that was the only way to save his friend. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself: "Jaskier, you're short of a marble..."

He scampered after the sorceress and grabbed her hand. "Now, you see… I may not be of much use to you when it comes to monsters and wraiths and ancient elven ruins." He gave her a mischievous look and even managed to summon a twinkle in his eye. "But I know how to please a woman." He bowed and kissed her fingers.

She giggled as she freed her hand from his grip. "Silly boy, not here."

Geralt cleared his throat to get their attention. He was standing at the bottom of the steps with the torch, facing a blank wall. For a moment, as they looked down the steps at him and the wall, all was silent. Then, Geralt leaned forward, pressed his face against the wall, and groaned. He rolled his shoulders and tensed up, craning his neck. "Release me!" He howled.

Katenka rushed down the steps to grab him by the shoulders and make him face her. "Look at me, Geralt. Look into my eyes. You want release? Surrender to me. Stop fighting me. It will only wear you down. You cannot resist. You cannot break free. Struggling will only consume your strength. Your only path to relief is to succumb to my power. To obey me."

"Oh... Obey..." His voice was hollow as she held his gaze, and he swayed on his feet. The tension melted from his body and his mouth sagged open.

Jaskier gasped at the sight. Geralt, with all the strength of a witcher, was powerless against her. Would throwing himself at Katenka give Geralt any sort of meaningful reprieve? He stared at her mesmerising eyes, trying to come up with a way he could convince her to enthrall him instead. 

When the sorceress reached up to touch Geralt's forehead, he slumped forward, face-first into her bosom. His arms dropped to his sides and the torch rolled onto the floor. "Pick it up, pretty boy." She said to Jaskier, as she struggled to hold the Witcher's bulky body upright.

He managed to pick up the torch before the flame died, and he looked at the blank wall at the bottom of the stairs. It was different from the other walls, the stones were smaller, and more lopsided. It didn't look very sturdy. How long ago was this hastily plastered shut? Jaskier pushed that thought away and stared at Geralt, wishing it was him sagging against Katenka's body, his face in her bosom, her hands touching him. In order to save Geralt from this awful fate, of course!

The sorceress slapped Geralt's cheek. "Awake! Put that indomitability of yours to use and find a way to open that wall."

Like a magically controlled golem, the Witcher lumbered towards the wall, and again Jaskier backed away, unnerved by the way the mind control changed his friend. His scarred face was somehow more cold and expressionless than before, and his eyes were like deep, hollow pits. He rested his hand on the stonework for a moment, checking its thickness. Then, he took a step back, and with a strange magical gesture, summoned a strong burst of wind that blew the stone and mortar apart. With his boot, he kicked and shoved some of the rubble aside, to clear the way.

"After you." Katenka smiled at Jaskier.

He carefully stepped through the hole, carrying the torch. As he passed the Witcher, standing there motionless, waiting for the sorceress, Jaskier dawdled for a moment.

"Geralt? Can you hear me?"

The yellow eyes stared blankly ahead, there was no reaction whatsoever, not even a blink.

Jaskier patted him on the arm. "Save your strength, my friend. I'll distract her somehow."

The short corridor, now scattered with dust and rubble, led to a large, heavy oak door. Jaskier stopped to examine the ornate lock, but the torchlight didn't let him peer through the keyhole. 

The sorceress and the Witcher came up behind him and he turned to tell them: "Well, this doesn't look like you could blow it apart quite so easily."

Katenka reached into the pouch on her belt and gave Jaskier a large key that would fit the keyhole. "Try this."

As he moved toward the door with the key, he noticed that she withdrew behind the Witcher, who still stood there, frozen, his eyes dead. Jaskier cringed, closed his hand around the key, and turned around to face the sorceress. "Let's think about this for a moment. Why am I doing this for you? Because I may want to please you, you are a very attractive woman, but as you said yourself, we should be doing that in a plush bedroom somewhere. Not here. So why am I here, holding this key, getting the distinct impression that you want me to do it, because you think something horrible will happen when that door opens, and I'm expendable?"

Katenka chuckled. "I like you. You're smart. You are doing this because if you don't, I will harm Geralt, who is completely at my mercy right now." She gave Jaskier an intense look while she stepped up behind the Witcher, wrapped her arms around his chest and groped his crotch with one hand, as her other hand closed around his throat. No reaction from Geralt, he stood still as a statue.

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at her. "Would you though? Harm him? You seem to like him an awful lot."

Katenka paused, frowning at Jaskier over Geralt's shoulder.

"No, wait, don't answer that." Jaskier took a deep breath. "I've reconsidered and I do want to trade places with Geralt. You see, I still think my mind is not much use in a situation like this, I have no skills whatsoever that will keep either of us out of harm's way. On the contrary. But Geralt, he has oodles of survival skills. And instincts! He can see it coming from miles away. So if you make me your mindless thrall instead, he'll make sure we all get out of here alive. And, bonus, I'll finally shut up. I'm sure Geralt would agree that's a plus."

Jaskier wasn't certain, but for an instant, it seemed like a corner of Geralt's mouth twitched. There was life somewhere behind those dull eyes.

Katenka let go of the Witcher and stepped out from behind him. "Let's imagine for a moment that I would enthrall you, boy, and free Geralt. Who is to say that he wouldn't leave? He didn't want to come in here. Does he care enough about you to ensure your safety?"

"Of course! I'm his best friend in the whole wide world!" Jaskier exclaimed, but he could see that she was not easily convinced. Quickly, he continued: "Let me tell you another thing, Sorceress. Geralt would not just stay for me. He has a weakness for beautiful sorceresses. He would never leave you here in this tomb where you could unleash some ancient evil that might devour you whole. You are a damsel and he will not rest until he's saved you."

Another twitch across Geralt's face, but Jaskier couldn't see much of it, he was intent on keeping eye-contact with the sorceress, now that he got her attention.

With a wicked smile, Katenka drew up close to Jaskier and laid her hands on his shoulders. "It sounds like you've really thought this through. Are you ready?" 

Jaskier quivered under her piercing gaze. "Wait, wait! Don't you want the key back? And the torch! Shouldn't I give the torch to Geralt first?" He tried to wiggle out of her grip, but she seized him by the chin. Something strange happened to his vision, as if the dark corridor around them swam out of focus, and her eyes grew larger, drawing him in.

"Take a deep breath, boy," her silken voice cooed, smothering his thoughts. "You asked to be enthralled. Look into my eyes. You cannot resist. Geralt couldn't, so how could you? Feel my power overwhelm you. Surrender. Give in to me. No more thoughts. No willpower. Only blissful obedience."

It was a strange sensation, heavy, with a sinking feeling in his gut, as if he were falling. His eyes crossed until he was unable to see anything. He felt as if his body and his limbs were distant and out of reach, unable to move, but much to his own surprise, the torch remained upright. What surprised him the most, was that feeling of calm. The reprieve of thought, of action, of responsibility. Blissful obedience, indeed.

When Katenka gave him a little push, he took a step backwards and stayed there, still holding the torch. She said: "Now give me the key." And his hand immediately opened to offer it to her. It was strange to be so aware of his own helplessness. He couldn't turn his head, or blink or even close his mouth. Not unless she told him to.

With a heavy groan, the Witcher leaned against the wall and shook his head. When he had taken the time to rub his eyes and roll his shoulders, he turned to scowl at the sorceress.

She leaned her arm on Jaskier's shoulder, smirking at the Witcher. "Well? Was it true what he said? Are you coming with me and my mindless thrall? Am I a damsel?"

After a moment of stunned silence, Geralt hung his head. "Fuck…"

Chuckling to herself, Katenka examined Jaskier, groping him through his clothes. "I think I'll take this boy home with me for a few nights when this is all over. He's young and beautiful. And so very willing… I like that."

It felt strange to be unable to react, her touches still affected Jaskier, the arousal was clearly growing in his trousers, he felt hot and sweaty. His neck moved when she cupped his jaw to examine his face, and his arm moved when she groped under his coat. But still he couldn't move of his own accord. When she suddenly kissed his lips, his eyes rolled up into his head and he felt like he was going to faint, but his body remained standing there, until she commanded otherwise.

Geralt sighed loudly and walked up to her, back to his old, cat-like grace. He held out his hand. "Give me the key."

"Are we suddenly in a hurry now?" She asked as she handed it to him.

"Have you ever touched anyone without bespelling them first?" Geralt turned away, not actually interested in the answer to his question. "You realise that he'll never speak to you again as soon as you release him from your spell?"

Katenka crossed her arms with a grin. "Oh, I don't know about that. You keep going back to Yennefer. Some people just love being at a woman's mercy."

Jaskier wasn't sure he agreed with either of them, but in his current state, paralysed and controlled, unable to even blink or close his mouth… He squirmed and a whimper escaped his lips.

"The boy practically begged me for it." She giggled.

Geralt growled at her, showing his teeth. "I will not discuss my relationship with Yennefer with you." And he thrust the key into the lock and swung the door open. Only to reveal an antechamber with another door, this one barred with thick wooden beams. On this side.

With another sigh, Geralt grumbled: "At every door, I want to ask you whether you really want to let out what's in there."

"I don't, actually." Katenka coaxed Jaskier to follow her into the antechamber with the torch. "If I'm right, the first seal has never been broken. So I want to study it, to be able to recreate such a powerful magical ward."

Jaskier tried to speak, or even moan, but no sound passed his lips as his body stopped walking and just stood there, nothing more than a stand for the torch. He was getting light-headed, and there was another feeling he couldn't place. A need to be looked at, touched, acknowledged in some way, but they just argued with each other as if he wasn't even there.

"If you want to go in there, open it yourself." Geralt's jaw clenched and he gave her a cold look.

"Would you be so kind?" Katenka took the torch from Jaskier, and he moved inexorably towards the door and started to lift the bars. He could hear how serious Geralt was about the danger on the other side of that door, yet he couldn't prevent his arms and legs from opening it. Strangely enough, he didn't feel concerned. He was grateful for her attention and her kind words. He wished he could stare at her while obeying her orders.

Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the scruff of the neck and dragged him away from the door. "I said open it yourself."

The bar fell back into place. Jaskier flailed and faltered. Confused by his inability to obey, he shut down. His knees went weak and his eyes rolled up. The collar of his shirt slipped out of Geralt's grasp and Jaskier crumpled to the floor as a result. He lay there, face down on the cold flagstones, heavy and limp.

Katenka huffed. "I would only do it myself if you were both on the ground."

"I dare you." Geralt growled.

She dropped the torch and darted towards him. Her hand grasped his hair once more and she pulled him closer, holding his gaze. Her voice was no more than a menacing whisper. "I have been nice to you both, so far. Do you really want to feel what I'm like when I want to hurt you?"

Geralt should have been able to free himself from her grip, he had fought creatures much stronger and bigger than her. But those mesmerising eyes… Suddenly, he craved to be under her spell again, so heavy and still. Only that sinking feeling and those eyes staring him down.

"Notice how quickly you revert to that blissful obedience. That is my power over you, and you secretly love it, don't you? But I could very easily make you feel…" Her fist pulled on his hair, making his head jerk. "Pain. The worst physical agony you've felt in your life is but a memory, a memory that I can summon back to your mind. Right now."

Visions of long ago flashed before Geralt's eyes, brushes with death and injuries, and the horrific ritual that turned him from a boy into a witcher. He quivered, his breath quickening, spasms running through him. He tried to clench his mouth shut, but sobs came out despite himself. His eyes grew large and his head started to shake slowly from side to side. The pain was too intense. "No… Please…" His voice was ragged.

She glowered at him for a long, sadistic moment. Then she licked her lips and told him: "The pain stops as soon you kneel before me, Witcher." And she let go of him.

He dropped to his knees and leaned heavily on his arms, gasping with relief as the pain instantly dissipated.

With a shrug, Katenka crossed her arms and looked down on him. "Do not dare me again."

The gasping turned into coughing before Geralt was able to calm down again. 

Meanwhile, she prodded Jaskier with the tip of her shoe. "Wake up, pretty boy. Stand up for me."

Jaskier clumsily propped himself up on one arm, but his eyes crossed too much for him to be able to see her. There was drool on his lip and the only sound that came from his mouth was a drawn out moan. When she reached out to him, he gratefully took her hand and hoisted himself to his feet. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but finally he uttered: "Thank you…" He swayed on his feet, staring at her in silent adoration.

Behind him, the flame of the torch laying on the ground died, and for a moment, the room was pitch black. Until Katenka uttered a terse magical spell, and white light started to shine from her hand.

"Now, is someone going to open that door for me?" She said with a playful smile.

As Geralt rose to his feet, he kept his eyes on the floor, and he folded his hands together. He hesitated for a moment, which meant that Jaskier went to the door before he did, and removed the bars one by one.

The sorceress stepped up to Geralt and with one finger she lifted up his chin to make him look at her. "What does your silence mean?" She asked.

"You've won, Katenka," he whispered. 

She chuckled and turned away to watch Jaskier remove the last beam.

His square jaw clenching, Geralt asked: "What does your laughter mean?"

Shaking her head, she smiled. "I've got you this far. Getting you to admit how much you enjoy being controlled and on your knees is pushing it. And we have more pressing matters to attend to."

Geralt looked away, turning towards the door.

The door opened to reveal a large chamber with a domed ceiling and a smooth marble floor. In the middle of this chamber, a stone sarcophagus stood upright, and around it, an elaborate magical circle was carved out in the floor. Wall sconces shone with a magical light, so Katenka chose to extinguish her own light spell. She walked into the chamber and began to circle the sarcophagus, studying the carvings in the floor from a safe distance. 

"I told you it was intact. This is marvellous." She sounded delighted.

Geralt stepped through the doorway to get a better look at the sarcophagus. "That is no ordinary Bruxa…"

"Good thing I brought you along then." Katenka rummaged in her pouch. "Come over here, boy. I just need you to hold this memory crystal."

Jaskier walked into the chamber, making a beeline for the sorceress. Until Geralt shoved him aside and he ran face-first into the wall.

"Don't step on those carvings." Geralt kept one eye on the sarcophagus at all times. "Did you know who was in this tomb, Katenka?"

She made her way over to Jaskier, helped him up, and guided him to the place where she wanted him to stand. "What do you think?" She muttered as she gave Jaskier a faceted crystal the size of his fist, and directed his hands to hold it just right.

Jaskier blushed and smiled at every touch, following her with his eyes even as she moved away from him towards the Witcher.

She took Geralt by the arm and led him to a position across the room from Jaskier. "If you can just stand here and hold this crystal, I'll complete the triangle and we'll have a complete recorded image of the ward that I can take home to study."

He stayed where she placed him, but he looked increasingly worried as she moved around the circle to the correct position. "Unless she wakes..."

"We'll be out of here in a jiffy!" Katenka took a third crystal out of her pouch and held it up in front of her chest, facing the sarcophagus and the circle around it. "Now stand still and aim it correctly while I channel." 

Magic crackled in her crystal and after a few moments and magical words, beams of yellow light arced from it and hit the crystals Geralt and Jaskier were holding. The beams formed a perfect triangle around the circle. The chamber filled with a thundering sound and flashes of light. Jaskier finally managed to close his eyes. The crystal reverberated in his hands and for a moment it felt as if the crystal lifted him off the floor. Then suddenly, silence rung in his ears and he stumbled backwards against the wall.

The crystal was still in his left hand, warm to the touch. He ran his other hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Katenka's control over him was gone, he felt hollow and alone. He sat up, swallowed and blinked, trying to process everything that had happened. 

"Geralt?" His voice sounded shrill in the silence.

"I'm unhurt." The Witcher's rough voice reassured him. His heavy, armoured footsteps moved around the circle, towards where the sorceress had been standing. "You should have just brought a megascope…" he grumbled.

Jaskier pulled himself to his feet and started to stumble towards them, one hand on the wall, still hold the crystal in the other. When Geralt made eye-contact with him across the room, he managed an exhausted smile. "So, when do I get my cat-like grace back?"

"You just need a good meal, when we get out of here…" Geralt's voice died away when he saw the way Katenka was sprawled on the floor. He rushed forward, placed his crystal next to hers and took her head into his hand to look at her face. 

Jaskier dashed over to them, anguish clenching his throat. Katenka's eyes were closed but her eyelids fluttered. Her beautiful face grimaced and her arms were shaking weakly. When Geralt carefully laid her head back down, her lips parted and she whined painfully.

"What is wrong?" Jaskier could feel panic rising in his chest.

Geralt turned to look up at the sarcophagus, as if he expected it to move. "Take the crystals," he ordered as he lifted the unconscious sorceress up in his arms. "Take them out of here and. Do. Not. Step. On the carvings."

Jaskier shoved all three crystals down his trousers and sprinted back to the entrance, staying very close to the wall. Only when he had reached the antechamber, did he look back.

Geralt carried Katenka to the door and laid her down just outside the magic circle. Then he started to frantically pace the magic circle, staring at the symbols and carvings as if he was trying very hard to read them.

A grating sound emanated from somewhere in the chamber, a claw scraping across stone. A shudder ran through Katenka's body, making her back arch and her head lift off the floor. The voice coming out of her mouth was little more than a raspy hiss.

"I should thank you for bringing me this delicious gift." 

Jaskier cowered by the door, he realised that whatever was in the sarcophagus had taken control of the sorceress, and there was nothing he could do to help.

Geralt seemed to have found the symbol he was looking for. He kneeled down on the smooth marble floor and pulled out his knife. "You are imprisoned, Donata. You cannot reach outside the seal that holds you. You cannot touch us."

Katenka started to writhe and shake, her eyelids still fluttering, the white of her eyes showing as she craned her neck. "You cannot stop me, Vatt'ghern!"

"Fuck!" Geralt cursed, the marble floor was too hard, he couldn't carve anything in it with his knife. 

Jaskier dashed over and presented him with a piece of chalk that he fished out of his pocket. "Will this do?"

The Witcher snatched it from his hand and drew a crude copy of the important symbol on the outside of the circle. "You are imprisoned, Donata. Sleep forever more!" And he started to draw another one next to it, and another one.

Katenka rolled over and started to crawl towards them, her face obscured by her tousled hair. "You think you can tamper with ancient magic, d'hoine?"

Jaskier backed away, the creature crawling towards them was not Katenka in any meaningful way, it growled and hissed hungrily like a panther.

"You are imprisoned, Donata. Sleep forever more!" Geralt said the same phrase every time he finished drawing the symbol. It seemed to have some effect, the chalk changed colour and seemed to fuse together with the magic circle. The creature, Donata, seemed to notice it too. Another noise came from the sarcophagus and Katenka rose up on her hind legs and pounced on Geralt, knocking him down.

In a moment of strange clarity, Jaskier saw the piece of chalk fall from Geralt's hand and he knew what he had to do. He sprinted past the Witcher and the sorceress struggling on the floor and picked up the chalk. With quick, fluent strokes, he copied the symbol and continued what Geralt had started. "You are imprisoned, Donata. Sleep forever more!" He projected his voice as if he was trying to sway an angry crowd with a good joke, it echoed through the chamber as he crawled on his hands and knees, drawing more and more symbols. "You are imprisoned, Donata. Sleep forever more!"

Katenka's head whipped around to glare at what Jaskier was doing, and she started to move towards him. The Witcher wrapped his arms around her to hold her back. A short, violent struggle later, he was holding the possessed sorceress in an arm lock.

Jaskier didn't let them distract him; he found a rhythm to the words and the shape of the lines. It became easier and faster each time. As he progressed along the magical circle, the symbols started to shine with a soothing light. "You are imprisoned, Donata. Sleep forever more!"

She finally stopped struggling. Her arms and legs shook and her head flopped back. "I have secrets to offer you, Vatt'ghern." She hissed in his face. "If you lock me away, you will never know."

Geralt looked across the room and fell into Jaskier's rhythm, saying it with him, over and over: "You are imprisoned, Donata. Sleep forever more!"

Jaskier had gone almost all the way around the circle now, but the chalk was running out. His fingers were cold and painful from the floor. His voice didn't waver, but he had to draw the last symbol, the one that closed the circle, with a sliver of chalk. "You are imprisoned, Donata. Sleep forever more!"

The entire magic circle lit up with this soothing light, and a soft ringing filled the chamber. Jaskier just sat down, staring at it, panting. Katenka fainted and then hung limply in Geralt's arms. With a sigh of relief, Geralt lifted her up and started to carry her to the door. As Jaskier rose to his feet, he looked at the sarcophagus one more time before he too made his way to the door.

In the antechamber, he watched as Geralt tenderly laid Katenka on the floor, and asked: "So… Do I want to know who Donata is?"

Geralt shook his head and bent down to pick up the torch. With a quick magical gesture, the flame flickered to life once more, and he handed the torch to Jaskier. When he walked over to close the door, Jaskier handed him the bars, one by one.

With the door closed, the only light in the room was the torch in Jaskier's hand. The silence made him uncomfortable, so he laughed and poked Geralt with his elbow. "I saved you there, didn't I?"

Geralt cracked a smile, wrinkling the scar on his cheek.

Katenka moaned and sat up. "I apologise, gentlemen. I was wrong about the risks."

Geralt offered his hand to help her stand. "Apology accepted."

To combat the awkward silence, Jaskier stepped forward. "I want to show you what's in my pants, no mind control needed." And he revealed the memory crystals.

The Witcher covered his face with his hand, and Katenka giggled with delight. 

"It worked!" Her eyes twinkled as she examined the warm crystals. "Oh thank you, lovely boy!" She put the crystals into her pouch and planted a kiss on Jaskier's cheek.

He stood there, blushing. "I saved you both, didn't I?"

She cupped his cheek in her hand. "And you make a wonderful mindless thrall." She winked at him. "I know a plush bedroom not far from here, if you like."

Jaskier's eyes widened and he gasped. 

Geralt exhaled and turned to the exit.  "I'll see myself out."

"No, wait!" She quickly laid her hand on his shoulder. "I owe you, Geralt. I manipulated you. Is there any way I can make it right?"

He looked into her eyes. A familiar, heavy feeling came over him. His mouth opened and he whispered: "I cannot resist."

Chapter Text

The brown horse snorted as the Witcher dismounted. "Slow now, Roach." The horse wandered off towards a green and fleshy patch of grass to graze as Geralt stooped to examine the tracks in the muddy path more closely. This bog was known to be unsafe, and not just because of the quagmire. Something had made its nest in those ruins up ahead, something that even the drowners stayed away from, Geralt could tell from the tracks. As he rose to his feet, he stared at the ruins, checking his pockets for blade oil and potions he had on hand. He should have never let Jaskier go by himself, but that foolish bard didn't listen when Geralt explained that not every monster merited to be defeated, especially if no one would pay.

"What could possibly go wrong?" The Bard had exclaimed in his drunken haze. Geralt didn't think the idiot would actually go out here. He should have known better.

The sound of the water lapping against the shore disappeared when Geralt walked between the crumbling walls of the ruin, the silence here was eerie. Muddy footprints showed him where Jaskier had been, trailing along a wall before they led through an arched doorway out into the open. 

The flagstones in this large, rectangular room didn't give Geralt any hints of what had happened here, but there was an empty mead flagon lying in a puddle. And there was a smell he couldn't quite place; as if some creature had crawled from the brackish water outside to here. He paced the room, trying to get a better whiff of the scent. It certainly wasn't a necrophage and it lacked the musk of a furred creature, but that still left many options.

One of the flagstones had sunk into the ground long ago, revealing a sloping tunnel leading into darkness. Geralt winced when he noticed that he didn't have a Cat potion, so he settled on lighting a torch before following the scent into the tunnel. Judging by the size of the tunnel, the creature couldn't be much larger than a human, and it didn't need any light to know where it was going. 

The tunnel opened up into a larger space with some old furniture and a nest in the corner where a human body lay curled up under a ragged blanket. Geralt pounced to the nest and cautiously took the blanket away. 

Jaskier seemed to be asleep and nude. At first glance there were a few bruises, and those bitemarks worried Geralt; a vampire wouldn't bite the chest area like that, it would go for a vein. 

A little moan escaped the Bard's lips as Geralt examined him and he rolled over until he was lying stretched out on his back like a starfish. 

"Jaskier." Geralt kept an eye on the tunnel, there didn't seem to be any other way in or out of this nest, and there was no telling when the creature would be back. "Jaskier, wake up."

Without really opening his eyes, Jaskier reached out to touch the person looming over him. "Where have you been?" He sighed, slurring his words. "I've missed you."

Geralt picked up Jaskier's clothes from the floor and tossed them in his face. "Get up. We need to leave."

"Geralt?" Jaskier sat up and stared at him, blinking and rubbing his eyes. "You're here?"

"Get dressed." The Witcher growled. "Or you're leaving stark naked."

"Leaving?" Jaskier pulled his breeches on with a dazed look on his face.

Impatient, the Witcher studied the items on the table and the things the nest was made of. "What do you remember?"

"Her eyes." A vacant look came over the Bard and he fell back into the nest. "Her eyes are like rippling pools pulling me in deeper and deeper… Her voice is like silk wrapping around me, swaddling, engulfing… No song could ever do it justice."

Geralt narrowed his yellow eyes and stepped in closer to grab the Bard by the throat, lifting him up to a sitting position. Jaskier held his breath and latched onto the hand around his throat, staring up at the Witcher's face with wide eyes. 

"Geralt? What…" 

He peered into Jaskier's eyes. "Elevated temperature, fast heartbeat, dilated pupils, delirious…" He leaned closer to examine the bitemark just above Jaskier's left nipple. "Long puncturing fangs, venomous but not deadly… Why would it want to keep you alive?" He finally let go of Jaskier. Then a sound startled him and he spun around to look into the tunnel.

"As bait." A low, feminine voice replied as a humanoid figure loomed just at the edge of the torchlight. Large, serpentine eyes blinked against the light in an angular face. Her hands rested on her hips, accentuating her shapely figure and drawing the attention to the coils of her long tail.

Geralt stepped away from the nest, his hands open where she could see them. "Well, you caught me." He said in a stony voice as he took another step away from Jaskier. Maybe he would be able to escape if Geralt managed to lure her away from the exit.

Jaskier got up from the nest and stumbled forward, reaching out to her. "You're here, my love. I was in agony while you were away, aching for your touch."

The Witcher hung his head and massaged his temples. "Fuck…"

She pointed at the Bard with one long finger as she slithered closer. "Look into my eyes. Stay there."

Jaskier's arms fell down at his sides as he swayed on his feet, as if the power of her gaze alone held him upright. His jaw went slack even though he was trying to formulate an answer, so a long-drawn out breathy moan came out of his mouth. 

"Wait here. I will deal with you later." She turned her gaze to the Witcher with a wicked smile on her lips. "You're much more interesting…"

Geralt immediately lowered his eyes, looking around for anything that could be of use to him. As he turned away, his voice remained calm. "The venom of a lamia is a powerful sedative that alters pain sensation, but it wears off after a few hours."

She tilted her head at him as she closed in and made a sound somewhere between a hiss and a snicker. "Regale me with your knowledge, Vatt'ghern."

He swallowed and continued in a gravelly voice. "The real danger of a lamia lies in her hypnotic gaze." He could hear her drawing up close behind him as he faced the wall, he could feel the bump of her tail colliding with the heel of his boot. When she laid her hand on his shoulder, he could feel her tongue flick against the back of his neck, tasting the air and his skin.

Her voice came from above, drawn up to her full height she was taller than the Witcher. "So the reason you avert your eyes is not reverence? You don't think you're worthy of laying eyes on my magnificent visage?" Her voice and her laughter sounded charming like a fair maiden playing with a pet.

"I know what's good for me." Geralt clenched his jaw, looking for the way out from the corner of his eyes. He closed his eyes tight when something caressed his ear.

"Oh yes, you take such good care of yourself, don't you?" She whispered barely audible but so close to his ear. "And of your friends too." 

He suppressed a shiver when she let go of him and moved away. Hesitantly, he turned around and with his eyes on the dirt floor he was able to find her tail right next to Jaskier's feet.

"Especially this one." That laughter again, how could this fearsome creature make such a beautiful sound? "You would never let anything happen to this delicate Dandelion, would you?"

Jaskier's knees buckled and his limp hands fell into view, but she was holding him up somehow. He groaned wordlessly and he seemed to be trembling all over.

Geralt looked to the exit tunnel using only his fine-tuned hearing to figure out what she was doing to Jaskier. There was no sound of skin breaking or moisture dribbling, he was fine. Just helplessly enthralled. "What do you want, hag?" The Witcher asked.

"I just want you to look at me." It was unbelievable how seductive that creature sounded, like a lover who had just taken off her clothes.

With his eyes closed, Geralt showed her his stoic face. "How do you know that would even work on a witcher?"

"Oh come now." That laughter again. "You lowered your eyes the moment I came in."

"Let him go." Geralt said gruffly as he surveyed the floor again. No creature had ever charmed him except for a sorceress, he was willing to take the risk. "I will look you in the eye, if you let Jaskier go first."

She laughed as she pushed the Bard away and he collapsed face first on the floor. After a dazed groan, he finally awoke from his trance and looked up at Geralt with bleary eyes.

"Go ahead." She giggled. "You can go." 

Jaskier wiped the drivel off his chin and looked around the dimly lit cave. "Go where?"

"To safety." Geralt pointed out of the cave as he kept his eyes strictly on Jaskier's face, even though he could see her moving closer from the corner of his eye. "Go to Oxenfurt, for all I care."

"Geralt, I know I've said this before, but she's the love of my life." Jaskier mumbled dreamily as he pulled himself up on wobbly legs.

"She's going to fucking devour us both if you don't go!" The Witcher snarled as he grabbed Jaskier by the arm and dragged him to the tunnel.

Jaskier feebly struggled against him, trying to go in the opposite direction as he moaned. "I would like nothing more. I'd do anything for that magnificent goddess, anything just to look upon her…" His voice died away and he slumped in Geralt's arms. 

The Witcher froze in place, with his eyes staring into the darkness of the tunnel he could sense her approaching behind him. Her arm grazed his shoulder as she reached out to touch Jaskier's slack jaw and lifted it up.

"Such a sweet thrall, this boy." She murmured as her fingers fidgeted with his lips, playfully probing his mouth. "With a little training he could become useful as a lure, don't you think?"

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, the Witcher held his friend's body close against his chest. Then he whirled around and made a sign with his hand to blow the lamia away with a powerful gust of wind. She staggered to the ground a few feet away and as the Witcher reached for his silver sword, he made the fatal mistake of looking her in the eye.

Her gaze hit him like the tail of an eel, sending a shockwave through his body that made his muscles twitch. As his eyes locked onto the black pupils of her serpentine eyes, a kaleidoscope of colours started to swirl at the edges of his vision. It gave him a strange sense of vertigo, a heavy weight that settled into his limbs, pulling him down. He was vaguely aware that his arms released Jaskier as he lost control of them, but he didn't have the strength to stop it. He could only stand there, his eyes wide, petrified by her gaze.

She smiled wickedly at the way his head helplessly followed her as she pushed herself up off the ground and raised up to her full height. "Now you know, Vatt'ghern." She blinked slowly, eclipsing his whole world, plunging him momentarily in torpid darkness, until her eyes bore down on him again. "Now you know what it feels like to be under my thrall."

Involuntarily, his lips moved and his voice rasped: "Under your thrall…" 

She drew up close to him, both her hands cupping his jaw as she wrapped her long tail around him, swaddling his arms tightly against his body, squeezing the air out of him. "Not to worry." She whispered. "I won't devour you just yet. I have other plans." And she leaned in close to sink her fangs into his neck.

The swirling colours blurred his vision and the ground seemed to lurch towards him as he succumbed to her power and darkness engulfed him.

…

A woman becomes a lamia through the Curse of the Cold Heart. It was a strange thought to wake up to but it was reassuring that he remembered the knowledge his old master had tried to impart on him. Geralt let out a groan as he gathered himself up from the floor. He was lying beside the nest like Jaskier's discarded clothes. The cave was empty. He had no idea how much time had passed, he couldn't think with the venom still dulling his senses. 

Sitting with his back against the wall, he searched his pockets for a potion. The bitter, milky substance made him gag, even when he swallowed it down like a shot. It quickly began to clear the venom from his system, and he became aware of more and more pain, as if something had tried to crush him and flung him into a corner when it didn't work. He was bruised but it would pass, and he dreaded to think about the plans she had hinted at.

Cursed by her own cold heart. Geralt wracked his brain for more information as he sat there in the dark. A lamia, unlike other lizards, could not warm her cold blood in the light of the sun, she had to steal the warmth of other creatures. Did she intend to keep him around as a source of warmth? His witcher metabolism made him better suited than a normal man. Cursed by her own cold heart. If only he could figure out how to lift this curse…

A shuffling sound in the dark tunnel, Geralt quickly shifted back to a more curled up position, so he could pretend to still be unconscious. He listened intently as he remained still.

Hurried footsteps. Fast gasping. "Oh no…" The voice whined as it approached. "Oh please help…" Jaskier sounded like he feared for his life, did that mean the spell was broken? Geralt rolled to his feet, groping the floor around him. The darkness was a boon that might protect him from her gaze, even if he couldn't find his sword.

Jaskier accosted him in the darkness. "Save me!" His voice was desperate and high-pitched, and his hands clawed at Geralt's arms.

"Calm down." Geralt hushed him, trying to grab the smaller man to sling him over his shoulder and make a run for it. But with his hands occupied like this, he had no way to cover his eyes when a flame suddenly flickered to life and he was caught in her gaze. Again.

The shockwave travelling through his limbs, forcing him to release Jaskier from his grip, felt familiar this time, but it was very difficult to pay attention to what his body was doing when he was so fascinated by her eyes. She drew up close to him, cupping his chin in her hand to make her gaze even more inescapable. Her predatory smile was silent as her fingers played with his lips, probing his mouth. It was such a strange sensation, he couldn't speak, he couldn't bite down or even move his thick tongue. He could only stare, falling deeper and deeper into her eyes.

"Was my performance to your satisfaction, my lady?" Jaskier stepped away from Geralt, hopefully looking up at the lamia. "I can lure even the Witcher in."

"Yes, yes…" She made a dismissive gesture towards the nest without even a glance in his direction. "Lie down and sleep until I need you." 

Immediately, Jaskier crawled into the nest and curled up, while the Lamia slowly blinked at Geralt as she caressed his jaw. "I'm so tired and cold, Vatt'ghern." Her sultry voice made him shudder involuntarily. "You're going to help me with that. Kneel."

His knees buckled and there was no more venom in his system to cushion the blow as he hit the ground. He groaned a painful, wordless sigh as he sat there on his knees, his neck craning up to stare at her.

Her face seemed to hover over him, framed by the swirling colours in his peripheral vision. "I need your heat." Her voice whispered. "Move your hands for me. Take off your shirt."

Geralt had forgotten that he had hands, but now they were opening up the buttons of his shirt of their own accord. In vain, he tried to make his arms stop but they wouldn't listen to him anymore.

"I need more heat than that." She hissed in his face, making him shudder again. "Show me your cock. Show me how you touch it."

Geralt growled as his hands complied, exposing his crotch. As one of his hands gripped the base of his shaft and squeezed, the other started to stroke up and down. And all the while he helplessly stared up into her eyes. He could feel tears streaking down his face but he couldn't blink. He wanted to say something harsh and defiant but he couldn't even close his mouth.

"Good." She cooed as she touched his face. "That is heat. That is what I need. It's a shame I don't have a human body to straddle you and suck the heat out of you. But perhaps it's better this way. You might make me feel something." 

His hand mechanically pumped up and down, pleasuring him against his will. But underneath the panting, shuddering mess that he was becoming, he registered her words. Make her feel something.

"That's enough, Vatt'ghern. Stop." Her face swam out of focus as she leaned in closer.

His hips bucked with frustration as his hands fell limp at his sides and his eyes rolled up into his head. Her touch was like an icy wind, robbing him of his breath and making his sweat feel like hailstones on his skin. He quaked but he did not have enough breath to make a sound. This feeling too was familiar, like he was wrapped in snow and ice, slowly fading away.

…

Geralt woke to the feeling of someone rubbing a rough blanket against his cold skin to warm him up. He growled and rolled to his feet. He was not wounded, he wanted to walk it off. 

The cave was lit by a fire that made the air thick. Jaskier sat on the edge of the nest, the blanket still in his hands. He was dressed but his shirt was open. "Do you want some tea perhaps then?" He got up and walked to the kettle above the fire.

Geralt growled again as he snatched his shirt off the floor and put it on. He paced back and forth, the floor was warm under his feet and he knew that was only relative. "Where is she?" He grumbled under his breath, looking for his boots.

As soon as the boots were on his feet, Jaskier handed him a cup of steaming tea. "Out hunting so we'll have something to eat."

"For fuck's sake…" Geralt quaffed the tea like a potion and looked around for his sword. "We're leaving. Get your things."

"Oh, you think we can leave, do you?" Jaskier disdainfully shook his head and then gestured at the tunnel. "Be my guest. Try it."

With another growl that made his lips curl, Geralt marched to the tunnel with the intention to never return. But as soon as he set one foot on the sloping floor, a sudden sense of vertigo made him stumble. Her visage floated before him in the darkness, larger than life, obviously an illusion but no less hypnotic. Determined to not get caught in her gaze again, Geralt turned on his heels and strode back to the nest.

"Another cup of tea?" Jaskier asked off the cuff.

Geralt sat down by the fire. "I take it you tried it too?"

The Bard shook his head as he placed another cup of tea in front of Geralt on the table. "I'm savouring this precious moment of sanity. I'm sure to lose it again when she returns."

"So you realise she is not the love of your life." He glared at Jaskier.

He laughed awkwardly. "The ladies never react well when they hear that." Then he gave the Witcher a serious look. "What is she, Geralt? How doomed are we?"

"A cold-hearted curse has turned this lady into a snake." Geralt sipped his tea slowly. "This curse could have been cast as punishment for her cruelty, or maybe she cast it herself to freeze her heart when it was broken, to eliminate her sentiment. Either way, the only way to lift the curse is to make her feel again."

Jaskier whistled in awe. "You mean she felt nothing when she… did that to you?" He gestured vaguely at Geralt's torso.

Geralt stared into his cup of tea. "Apparently not."

"In that case, I have no clue how to make her feel anything." Jaskier started to close the buttons of his shirt.

"A lamia is a selfish creature." Geralt mused. "She is not looking for companionship from either of us. We are things she uses to make her life easier."

"Selfish, you say…" He grimaced and then ducked under the table as a noise approached through the tunnel.

Geralt didn't move, he just sat holding his teacup and kept his eyes on the ground, he could still tell where she was and what she did with his other finely tuned senses. 

With a thud, she dropped a bag on the table and as it fell open a few apples and onions fell out. Jaskier picked up one of the fallen apples and then saw the dead partridge in the bag.

"You will pluck it and roast it all." Her voice was soft and feminine, it contrasted with the smell of blood and earth hanging around her.

"With my bare hands?" Jaskier picked up an onion as well.

Geralt cringed when he felt one of her hands on his shoulder, it crawled like a big spider up the side of his neck and then touched his jaw. 

"I had to hide all the knives because of you." He could feel the flick of her serpentine tongue against his skin. "I hope you're worth it."

"Doubtful." Geralt grumbled.

"Don't you speak like that about my new toy." She chided him playfully.

Her hand grabbed his chin to force him to look up at her, but he shrugged out of her grip and kept his eyes on the ground.

Her laughter turned a little more sinister. "Are you going to behave or do I have to make you?"

He clenched his eyes shut and sat perfectly still, he didn't want to give her the satisfaction. He could feel not only her hands, but also her serpentine tongue prodding and poking him.

"You must be very pleased with yourself, Milady." Jaskier said, carefully keeping his eyes on his hands as he plucked the feathers from the dead bird. 

"What are you talking about?" She slithered around the table and when she stopped, she leaned down on it with her hands, so that either of them would catch her gaze as soon as they looked straight ahead.

Jaskier shrugged and shifted as he continued. "You have a comfortable nest. You have a way to lure in your prey. You have a renewable source of heat. Everything is taken care of and you did it all by yourself. That's a feat of organisation not many can muster. And let's not forget to applaud you for this: you may be the first in history to ever capture a witcher and keep him as a pet."

She moved back towards Geralt to touch his face. "Hmm, you are something special, aren't you?"

He clenched his jaw and kept his eyes tightly closed as he listened intently to sense exactly where she was and what she was doing. 

"No, you are special, you magnificent Goddess." Jaskier's voice was sweet and soft as he fawned on her. "You have enthralled us and we are at your mercy. Anything you want is yours to take. That must be so gratifying." 

"At my mercy…" Her voice trailed off as her hand grabbed the Witcher's stubbled chin but her grip was not as strong as before.

Geralt could feel a shudder in her arm and he could hear her breath hitch. He frowned and cautiously opened his eyes just enough to see the dirt floor under his feet. There was another sound he couldn't quite place, a dry crumpling of some kind.

"Vatt'ghern…" Her voice was different now, high-pitched and breathless. Desperate. "What is happening?" That dry sound again, perhaps it was the fabric of her clothes tearing?

As her snake tail shuddered, the scales seemed to dry up and moult with remarkable rapidity. Geralt looked up at her to see human, hazel-coloured eyes full of confusion. She fainted and he reflexively swooped in to catch her in his arms. The shapeless garments the lamia had worn hung loosely around the unconscious woman's curvy body. 

Geralt stared at Jaskier across the table. "You made her feel."

"You said she was selfish, so I appealed to her pride." He rose to his feet, his eyes wide with disbelief that it had actually worked. Plucking the bird seemed less important now that the woman hung deflated in Geralt's arms. Jaskier stood there pondering what to do next.

Geralt shifted, lifting her up further, her bare feet dangling against his arm as the snake tail was shed to the floor where it decayed into dust. He took a few steps and softly laid her down on the nest, looking around for his gear and weapons. 

Jaskier bounced up and down, giddy and triumphant. "We defeated the monster, we lifted the curse. I did. I lifted the curse. Little old me."

The Witcher grumbled. "There's still no reward." He bent down to look inside a hole in the dirt wall that had been covered up by an illusion created by the lamia. Groping inside the hole, he found his sword and some other items. He started to carefully pull the items out of the hole one by one and laid them out on the floor. His silver sword inside the sheathe, an old hunting knife and some other tools the lamia hid away so he couldn't use them as weapons. Nothing of value. With a sigh, he started to get dressed.

"She's even more beautiful now." Jaskier sat on the nest as he closed the buttons of his shirt, staring at the unconscious woman's face. She looked like she was sleeping, her angular face at rest, her lips parted as she breathed quietly.

"Sorceresses always are." Geralt muttered under his breath as he strapped on his sword and armour. 

"You think she's a sorceress?" The Bard regarded her with a dreamy look, reaching out to touch the fingers she had wrapped around his throat mere hours ago. He realised he should be cautious, some of his feelings might be the lingering enchantment. He sighed fondly at her countenance, enchanted he was.

When Jaskier touched her hand more firmly, she awakened with a look of shock in her eyes and scooted away from him. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs, staring fearfully first at Jaskier and then at Geralt as he approached.

"Do you remember?" Was that tenderness in his gruff voice?

She nodded and shivered. Pulling the blanket up around her, she lowered her eyes and said: "The Witcher is right. I am grateful, but there is no reward. No one wants me saved. I will remain here to gather myself."

The Bard dawdled, blushing at her. "So uh… I lifted your curse…"

With a little huff, Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the collar and dragged him out through the tunnel. "We're leaving."