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Chapter Text

'Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deirea'dh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of the Elder Blood, of Heh Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but will burst into flame.

Ess'tuath esse! Thus it shall be! Watch for the sighs! What signs these shall be, I say unto you: first the earth will flow with the blood of Aen Seidre, the Blood of Elves...'

--Aen Ithlinnespeath, Ithlinne Aegliaep Aevemien's prophecy

"Master Dandelion, Master Dandelion! You promised us a ballad!" A little girl with bright red hair chirped excitedly upon seeing the famed poet getting up from his seat- where he previously was playing a game of dice with a coupe of dwarves. The little girl, somehow keeping up with the poet's long strides, looked up at him expectantly.

Dandelion, like most poets, was tall, lanky, and pale- adorned with only the finest silks and extravagant embroidery.

"Yes, yes! Of battles and brave warriors!" Another child called this time a little boy, from a table over.

"-Of sorceresses and magic!" The same little red-headed girl chimed in as the poet reached the far end of the tavern that had a small stage next to a hearth alight with flame.

"-Of unrequited love!" Dandelion added upon reaching said stage and swiveling around on the heels of his boots to face the small crowd that had begun to gather.

"Silence, brats! You've not been in this world for long, so it is no surprise your heads are hollow," a bald dwarf with a beard that reached his knickers yelled at the children. Dandelion did not know said dwarf, but had just finished playing a round of dice with him and found him rather pleasing to be around- most dwarves usually were, anyhow. "This is Dandelion, friend and companion of Geralt of Rivia! Who might he sing of if not the famed witcher..."

"Unfortunately you are wrong, Sir dwarf. Tonight will be different. Tonight I shall sing a fresh new ballad about not Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, or even Cirilla, the princess of Cintra- but tonight, I shall tell you a story of Esmeray of Carsten and Eskel the witcher- another couple bound by destiny and fate and heroic justice! Our story begins long before the Great War, decades before Geralt ever dreamed he would be famous- no, this story happens before Geralt ever even met Yennefer, or claimed his Child Surprise. In fact, this story begins long before Geralt is ever even contracted to save Princess Adda. And its title is: 'Bitter, Evil Hearts.'

"In the fall of 1232, our beloved Witcher Geralt decided to return early to Kaer Morhen, fearing the quick advent of winter," the poet went on. "The Witcher was angry. The final stretch through northern Kaedwen was usually calm. But not this time...he was twice ambushed by bandits. Then one night wolves attacked and killed his horse- only being added at the last minute by the sorceress Esmeray of Carsten, who Geralt had learned to be Eskel's lover on her way up to Kaer Morhen herself.

"And although the help and company of the sorceress were appreciated, Geralt had grown accustomed to the kindly grey mare he had traditionally christened Roach, and it was because of that fact that the Witcher remained bitter and silent for the rest of their travel up to Kaer Morhen. And to make matters worse, at the foot of Kaer Morhen the two encountered a camp.

"Like all witchers, he believed the fingers of one hand would suffice to count the people who knew the way to the witchers' fortress- Esmeray being an exception. Geralt guessed Eskel had decided this winter, of all winters, to introduce his lover to the rest of the family. And oh, what a time to introduce her to the rest...."

000

It came as no surprise to Geralt that Eskel found Esmeray attractive. She was tall, almost as tall as Geralt himself, and thin- but a healthy sort of thin; with long, straight auburn-red hair that went into a braid down her back. Matched up with milky-white skin and hazel-green eyes. Geralt would've been lying to himself if he said he didn't like the way the shadows of the early morning sun ran down smoothly over her high cheekbones and the hollowness of her jaw- or the way her dark, narrow eyebrows raised or pinched together to convey her emotions as she talked-

But Geralt refused even her pleasant company to lighten his sour mood. Oh no, the witcher was dead set on being bitter. Call him petty, but he had just lost his mare.

"Is that a camp?" Esmeray's voice broke through the witcher's train of thoughts like a needle in a haystack- no wait, that analogy didn't make any sense-

"Huh?" Geralt dumbly questioned before following Esmeray's outstretched finger with his eyes- and sure enough, there was a rather large camp of what looked to be Kaedwen Soldiers camped out near the bank of the river the two found themselves traveling along. "What the hell?" Geralt muttered as his yellow gaze bored into the heads of the soldiers going to and fo.

"Listen," Esmeray reached over and grabbed Geralt by his forearm. "Those are Kaedweny soldiers, and I'm not sure what they want, but I think you should tell them to leave. This forest is private property, no?" Geralt only grunted in response before trudging his way up to the camp- Esmeray lingering some ways behind him with her mare, Elara; who was a beautiful dirty-grey horse in a lavish saddle.

"Perhaps we should return to Caingorn. I have no desire to perish in this wilderness forsaken by the gods..."

Geralt heard a man curse and complain- 'Glad I'm not the only one in a bad mood'- and looked to see a young nobleman dressed by a woman adorned in a tight dress and heavy makeup.

Geralt felt his medallion vibrate, and seeing how far away Esmeray was, he knew it wasn't because of her. The woman with heavy makeup next to the nobleman must've been a sorceress herself.

"Silence, Merwin. They are but wolves," the sorceress scolded the nobleman, now known as 'Merwin.'

"Wolves that fearlessly attack an encampment thick with campfires. I ask your forgiveness, mistress, but these are 'but' wolves like I am but an elven showgirl," a heavy-set dwarf grunted from beside the sorceress; and Geralt, indeed, heard wolves in the distance. Probably the same little bastards who killed Roach-

"Did anyone ask for your opinion, mister Bringgs? No? Then start doing what you are being paid for, and keep your hopelessly cowardly opinions to yourself. We would all be safe if your boys manned their stations instead of constantly playing dice while bathing in drink. Now take away this corpse before its stench fills my tent," the sorceress bitched.

"Cane I ask what happened?" Geralt finally spoke up from the sidelines, startling the group. They must've not known he was there, blasted witcher foot-falls-

"Wolves killed the boy...Nothing unusual about it happening in the camp...It's commonly known that wolves, the cursed beasts, love flames so much they'd bathe in them if they could," the dwarf, Bringgs, answered.

"Enough, Bringgs. Who are you, sir?" Merwin glared at Geralt, crossing his thin arms over his doublet.

"Geralt of Rivia, Witcher."

"And that?" Merwin nodded in the direction behind Geralt and said witcher turned to find Esmeray coming up with Elara in tow.

"Is that? It is! That's Esmeray of Carsten!" The sorceress squawked in a tune far too early in the morning to be using. "But- Ewww! What is she wearing?" The sorceress crinkled her powdered nose as Esmeray finally came to light.

It was still too early in the morning for there to be good lighting- the sun only just now peaking over the mountainside shading the group.

"-In any case!" Merwin cut in. "I am prince Merwin Ademegn of Aard Carriagh. Kind of you to visit, finally. We've been awaiting your response all day."

"Response?" Esmeray cocked one of her beautifully dark eyebrows as she came to a halt beside Geralt- her fingers still gripping the reins.

"Well hello to you too," the sorceress smiled wickedly as Esmeray's eyes widened.

"Sabrina-?!"

'Sabrina,' as Esmeray had called her, laughed before waving away Esmeray's shock at seeing her.

"Friend of yours?" Geralt turned to the ginger sorceress.

"Go on now, Esmeray, introduce us," Sabrina's perfect smile widened.

"Oh- right. Geralt, this is Sabrina Glevissig, sorceress and adviser to King Henselt....we actually went to school together, for a time," Esmeray explained. "But never mind that, what are you doing here, Sabrina?"

"I could ask you the same. Shouldn't you be in Tretogor running errands for Philippa?"

Geralt felt tension grow between the sorceresses, and one glance at Merwin told him he felt the same.

"-But anyhow...Come see me at my tent..." Sabrina's brow eyes trailed over to the bald prince. "Merwin, I assume you won't mind my handling this matter?"

"No, though I will want to know what you agree," the prince answered.

Sabrina nodded to the prince before turning on her heel and rounding into her tent, but before Geralt could follow, Esmeray drew the witcher off to the side.

"Geralt- I'm not sure what Sabrina wants or is doing here, but whatever the case- be on guard. Sabrina is not to be trusted."

"Are you not coming with?" Geralt furrowed his brows at the sorceress.

"No," Esmeray clenched her jaw; shooting a glare at the large blue tent Sabrina had gone into. "I came here to visit Eskel and to take a vacation away from work- Sabrina is clearly here to stick her nose where it doesn't belong. Find out what she wants and then meet me up at Kaer Morhen."

"Do the others know you're coming?"

"Eskel invited me, I'd sure hope he'd at least told Vesemer," Esmeray shrugged before glancing over to Geralt. With a quick goodbye, the two parted ways temporarily.

As soon as Geralt had disappeared from Esmeray's field of vision, the sorceress continued along the bank of the river until the massive fortress came into view.

Kaer Morhen was unlike anything the mage had seen before. Like a stacked cake, the stone fortress wall's loomed and layered over each other until they seemingly touched the skies above. The sun had now fully risen and for a long time, Esmeray just stood there slack-jawed at the sight before her.

At least, until she was rudely interrupted.

"Welcome to Mistress Sabrina's tent," a flamboyant blonde-headed man greeted Geralt as the Witcher stepped inside the seemingly modern tent- only to see that it was much larger on the side. The inside of that tent held a room that looked like it had been cut out of a castle- with stone walls, marble flooring, and even a stained glass window.

"In case you're wondering, this is an illusion," Sabrina called from her place at a vanity mirror.

Unlike Esmeray, Sabrina had brown locks of hair cropped just below her ears- which she held back with a headband similar to the one Geralt usually wore. The sorceress wore a tight, short red dress with black pin-stripes and a pair of long gloves to match her belt.

"Everything here's an illusion?" Geralt raised a brow.

"Yes. But, my dear Witcher, it's an illusion of rare quality. In fact, it barely differs from reality."

"If that's the case, then I wished Esmeray would've conjured something like this up when we camped out together last night."

"Yes, well...Esmeray is a different breed of the sorceress," Sabrina seemed to scowl as she spoke this statement. "No matter. I assume you're returning to Kaer MOrhen for the winter? And what of Esmeray? Is she, too, returning with you this winter? I didn't know witchers took on lovers, y'know, with you not being able to feel emotions and all...."

"You're only half correct. I and Esmeray are returning to Kaer Morhen for the winter, though, we're not a couple."

'Though I wished we were,' Geralt almost muttered.

Sabrina smiled at this statement and stood from her place in the mirror before making her way over to the witcher.

Once more, Geralt found himself enthralled by the gaze of another beautiful sorceress- not that he planned on sleeping with either. Although, if he had his way...

"Right, enough small talk, we have important business to discuss," Sabrina snapped Geralt from his daydream. "You've heard of the Curse of the Black Sun, witcher?"

"The curse of the mad mage Eltibald. I believe he started the whole mess that led to several dozen nobly born women being murdered or imprisoned in towers," Geralt nodded, his thoughts traveling to his first love...

"Eltibald was no madman, and there is no doubt the 'women' were not entirely normal," Sabrina defended haughtily.

"Madness, normality- it's a path steeped in reality. Tell me something specific."

"Autopsies were performed. The mutations witchers undergo are but a minor, clinical operation compared to those caused by the Curse of the Black Sun. The skulls and spines of these girls contained red sponges of some kind. Their internal organs were in disarray, some missing altogether. Everything was covered in moving cilia and pink and blue meat scraps. What say you to that?"

"Nothing. I've seen humans with eagle talons instead of hands, with wolf fangs and eyes. People with additional joints. All products of mages fumbling with magic. It's no proof of a curse. We digress. Why are you here?" Geralt was suddenly feeling very jealous of Esmeray right now. At the moment, she's probably already at Kaer Morhen unpacking her things, getting ready for a hot bath.....while Geralt had to stand around talking to some lunatic with too much makeup.

"A girl affected by the Curse of the Black Sun is inside Kaer Morhen. Princess Deidre Ademeyn, elder sister of Merwin."

"What do I have to do with this?"

"Don't play the fool. That girl is a serious threat to you. Surrender her to me and no one will get hurt," the sorceress demanded with her hands on her hips.

"I'll think about it," Geralt muttered before exiting the tent- only to be immediately stopped by prince Merwin.

"I see you have spoken to miss Sabrina. However, I head this expedition, remember that," the prince taunted.

"I will," Geralt rolled his eyes.

"Are you able to read?"

"I am."

"Then read this scroll," the prince then pulled a parchment from the inside of his blue doublet and handed it over to Geralt.

"To my barons, vassals, and all free subjects..." Geralt looked up from the paper and glared at the prince.

"Go on, go on," the prince urged.

"Let it be known far, wide and by all, that I hereby declare Merwin of Caingorn to be our loyal and trusted servant, and to be loved by us, this rendering all who cause him grief liable to incur our Royal wrath. Henselt, King of Kaedwen."

"Good enough. Understood?"

"Indeed, though 'grief' is spelled differently," Geralt said smugly as he kept his eyes on the paper.

"I see you are quick. So you accept that if the witchers wish to travel freely and unmolested about Kaedwen, they should not cause me grief, no matter how the term is spelled," the prince snatched the paper out of Geralt's gloved fingers.

"You don't seem like anyone's causing you grief," Geralt crossed his well-built arms over each other. A reminder that he was a skilled warrior where the prince was....well...a prince.

"Not you, no, but that may change. And my patience has its limits."

"Riiight, well I'll be going then," not wasting another second, Geralt turned his back to the prince and made his way up to Kaer Morhen. Maybe if he spoke to Vesemir he could get more insight as to what was going on exactly...

'Verily, there is nothing so hideous as the monsters, so contrary to nature, known as witchers for they are the offspring of foul sorcery and devilry. They are rogues without virtue, conscience, or scruple, true diabolic creations, fit only for killing. There is no place amidst honest men for such as they.

And Kaer Morhen, where these infamous beings nestle, where they perform their foul practices, must be wiped from the surface of this earth, and all trace of it strewn with salt and saltpeter.'

--Anonymous, Monstrum, or Description of the Witcher

Esmeray was pissed- no, inraged- no, pissed; and all because of the stupid witcher in front of her.

The redhead sheathed at the man who would not let her cross the river.

"I said beat it," the young witcher, who Esmeray assumed through context clues to be Lambert.

"Didn't you hear me the first time! I'm a guest! I was invited here by Eskel!" The sorceress continued to pout.

After Geralt had gone into the tent to speak to Sabrina, Esmeray and her steed, Elara, attempted to make their way up to Kaer Morhen....only to be stopped before she could even cross the bridge by (who she now assumed) Lambert.

Esmeray had heard plentiful stories of the youngest witcher from Eskel, and in almost all of them, he was immature, quick to anger, and mouthy. All three are a combination of things Esmeray hated in a man.

Although supposedly young, Lambert didn't look much of it. Sure, his face was like that of a toddler, but his dark hair seemed to already be receding into that of a widow's peak. On top of that, he held the gaze of a lame duck.

"Lambert, quit being an ass and let her pass," came the familiar voice of Geralt, and Esmeray turned to find said witcher approaching.

'Geralt's already done talking to Sabrina? Damn. How long have I been standing here arguing with Lambert?'

"Hey, wolf," Lambert greeted with a quick change of attitude. "You know this wench?"

"Yes, now quit being an ass and let her pass."

At Geralt's demand, the now-confirmed Lambert sidestepped and allowed the sorceress to pass- of course, not before she turned back to Geralt.

"Thank you, Geralt. Please come speak to me once you're done here. I wish to know what Sabrina had to say."

Geralt gave a nod to the sorceress as he watched her and her mare trudge through the shallow river and across to the other side.

"So, who else are we to expect for this winter?" Lambert asked, turning back to face the other wolf school witcher.

"I was just about to ask the same."

"From what I know, Vesemir and Eskel...plus a few others...." Lambert's yellow cat-like gaze slid over from Geralt to glare at the campsite set up a few hundred yards from them.

"I know. I've been to their camp. What are you doing here, though?"

"Making sure those bastards stay out of Kaer Morhen- thought that wench that came through here was one of them, trying to make an excuse to get to our base."

"Have any of them tried to make excuses to get through here like that before?"

"A couple of pompous pricks showed up with an escort of dwarf mercenaries. Obviously, I couldn't let them pass- but other than that, no, they haven't tried something as elaborate as that yet, but you can never be too careful. Especially around those sorceress types. Are you sure we can trust her?"

"She aided me against a pack of wolves, and on top of that, she showed me a letter addressed to her from Eskel inviting her here. I think I know my own brother's handwriting. In any case, you are aware that those 'pompous pricks' are carrying a letter of safe conduct from King Henselt?"

"Not interested," Lambert shrugged. "This is Kaer Morhen, royal edicts mean nothing here."

"I hope that's not how you put it to him."

"Didn't have a chance to. The archespores sprouted first, quite a few seem to have planted roots over the summer, I always thought they grew on the graves of the murdered. Some bad wind must've carried the spores to the valley. It's full of them now."

"Damnit, Lambert!" Geralt raised his voice. "I wish you would've told me that before I let Esmeray cross! What if she runs into them before she reaches Kaer Morhen? You know if she gets hurt Eskel will have our heads!"

"Calm down wolf," Lembert raised his arms up in defense. "She's a big girl, I'm sure she'll be fine," Lambert laughed but Geralt didn't hear- he was already storming his way through the water and onto the other side.

Although Kaer Morhen was visible from where he stood- the witcher still needed to go through a small patch of wood to reach the Keep. He could only hope that the kind sorceress hadn't run into too much trouble on her way up there.

000

When Geralt finally got up to Kaer Morhen, the wolf was greeted by the oldest known witcher (and to whom he saw a father) Vesemir.

"Greetings, Geralt. Good thing you're here," the old witcher said.

Vesemir, like many of the other witchers, was tall and well-built- although worn from age, the Witcher didn't have any visible scars on his face. Though, what he did have on his face was a ridiculous handlebar mustache that encased his entire upper lip.

"Greetings," Geralt said in turn.

"How's the path?" Vesemir attempted to make light conversation- Witchers were never known for being conversationalists.

"Tolerable, nothing groundbreaking. What is going on here, Vesemir? And have you seen Esmeray?"

Vesemir let out a long drawn-out sigh.

"We've got a bit of a problem. The princess of Caingorn arrived two days ago claiming her envious brother and an evil sorceress were pursuing her. She's asked for our protection- as for Esmeray, she's up in the tower setting up her room."

"Good. I was worried that she'd run into trouble on her way up here. But this princess....she's got her castles all wrong. No knights in shining armor here."

"She was in bad shape, hungry, cold. We didn't have the heart to drive her off."

'Typical. Vesemir's heart has always been too big for his own good...Now, look what we're dealing with!' Geralt thought with a roll of his eyes.

"And Eskel has been acting strange..." Vesemir continued, entirely oblivious to Geralt's sass. "I made him contact Esmeray, see if she could...oh, I don't know, help in some way? The princess fell asleep with her pack of dogs in the courtyard. Tried to get her a bed but she said she preferred to sleep outside. Before she went to bed she said one more thing- that one cannot flee one's fate."

Geralt listened attentively to the old man's words as he continued.

"Later, Eskel told me a story. Some 20 years ago he saved the prince of Caingorn's life. He called the Law of Surprise, and as they say, destiny proved fortunate- unbeknownst to the prince, his wife was with child....."

"I'm not sure that was entirely fortunate...." Geralt muttered.

"So you've heard of the curse...In any case, on a day when the sky was dark as night at high moon, the princess gave birth to a girl," Vesemir crossed his arms and leaned his back against one of the stone pillars at the entrance of Kaer Morhen. "As far as I know, Eskel never returned to claim the child promised him by the prince. For some reason, ever since then he's always taken the long way around Caingorn. So, now we need to deal with the brother of Eskel's unexpected child, a group of mercenaries, and a sorceress bent on dissecting the woman she suspects of being a mutant. As if that's not enough, the brother carried a letter of safe conduct from King Henselt himself, so we can hardly just drive them all away."

"I know, so what do we do?"

"My advice? Talk to Eskel, she's his surprise. We'll meet back at the ford Lambert is guarding. Think it through, wolf, I'll want to hear your opinion."

"Fine," Geralt nodded. First and foremost, he decided in his mind, he was going to speak with Esmeray before going to Eskel.

When Geralt finally made it to the room in the tower, he found Esmeray in the midst of doing her makeup.

"Well Geralt," Esmeray said, applying dark red lipstick to her lips. "What is it exactly that Sabrina so eagerly wanted to speak to you about? Does it have something to do with that Deadra girl?" She turned around from her vanity to face Geralt.

"Yes. Deadra is the princess of Caingorn and, supposedly, she was born under the black sun. Sabrina wishes for us to hand her over to them so that they might dissect her-"

"And so Deadra thought to find refuge here with Eskel," Esmeray finished.

"So you already know Deadra is Eskel's child surprise, then?" The witcher raised a brow as he watched the sorceress take a stand from her place at the vanity mirror.

Esmeray, not bathed and clean, wearing a long, elegant dark green velvet dress with puffy red sleeves and collar. {Like this, only a dark green}

"Of course. I've known of Deadra for some time now. I am, after all, Eskel's lover. He confided in me many issues that have troubled him- including the surprise child he was afraid to claim."

"And what do you think of that? Of him not coming back for her?"

Esmeray simply shrugged.

"I thought nothing of it, of course. I am a sorceress, Geralt, but I'm not crazy. I don't believe in fate or destiny.....although, now that Deadra is here...I really should have pushed Eskel a bit harder in going back to Caingorn. Maybe then none of this would be happening," Esmeray's hazel eyes dropped to the floors before rising back up to meet Geralt's. "Speaking of which, have you seen Eskel?"

"No, I haven't, but if I know Eskel- he's avoiding the issue altogether and hiding out somewhere. I'll go ask Vesemire, you should probably go talk to this....'Deidre' girl. See what she's all about."

Esmeray nodded in agreement.

"Sounds like a plan."

'Intolerance and superstition has always been the domain of the more stupid amongst the common folk and, I conjecture, will never be uprooted, for they are as eternal as stupidity itself. There, where today seas surge, will one day be deserts. But stupidity will remain stupidity.'

--Nicodemus de Boot, Meditations on Life, Happiness and Prosperity

Deidre was a simple-looking girl with a wide face, square nose, and unplucked eyebrow; Esmeray initially took note of upon finding the girl asleep amongst a pile of hay near the horse stables. Next, she took note of the fact that the 'girl' was not much of a girl anymore. Despite her lack of curves, it was clear to Esmeray that Deidre had to have been somewhere close or around the age of 18 or 19.

Throwing the girl only one more glance, Esmeray decided she had had enough of the sight before her and cleared her throat- startling the girl in the hay out of her slumber.

"Oh! Greetings, Esmeray. I'm Deidre. Visemir spoke of you," Deidre said, shooting up and shaking the hay from her cropped blond hair- that did little justice to her wide face.

"I've heard a few things about you too...." Esmeray replied, putting on a bit of a classic sorceress air- which wasn't something she entirely liked to do, but if Deidre was going to be staying with them, Esmeray was sure going to teach her a thing or two about being a lady.

"If you mean from that lying shrew Glevissig-"

"Calm down," Esmeray raised a hand. "I don't intend to judge based on rumors."

"Then you are to interrogate me?" Deidra glared at the sorceress.

"Call it an interview, if it makes you feel better- but I'm just trying to figure out a way to resolve the situation. Believe me, I want Sabrina gone just as much as you do."

Deidra seemed to relax a little at this statement and waited patiently for the red-headed sorceress to continue.

"What do you want from Eskel?"

"Are you jealous?" The girl taunted with a smirk.

"Just answer the damn question," Esmeray was not amused by any of this. Not even five minutes with the girl and she was already getting on her nerves.

'How on Earth am I going to last a winter with this girl?' Esmeray thought to herself.

"I want him to stop fleeing from his destiny," Deidre answered plainly.

"And you think his destiny lies with you?" Esmeray raised a brow.

"As opposed to you, yes."

"Alright then....how did you find Kaer Morhen?"

"I always know where Eskel is, unlike you, apparently. I merely need to think about him."

Esmeray glared at the girl at this statement.

'Ohhh yeah, this is gonna be a looooong winter,' Esmeray continued to think bitterly to herself.

"Last question and I'll be out of your hair. Deidre, do you know what Sabrina and your brother want from you exactly? Geralt has told me a little, but I'm still confused about the whole ordeal."

"Obviously," Deidra rolled her eyes, "Sabrina wants to place my sweet little brother on the throne of Caingorn. My brother, who is entirely subservient to her, and who as the prince of Caingorn will have a vote on King Henselt-s council-"

"Enough politics, I want something else."

"Alright, then..." Deidre took a deep breath, and she spoke again, she seemed somewhat....younger. More innocent. More like a victim- which Esmeray had no doubt she was. "Sabrina believes me to be cursed, tainted in my mother's very womb. She believes me to be a monster."

Despite the clear rift between the two women, Esmeray reached out and placed a gentle hand on the shorter girl's upper arm.

"I want to hear your side of the story."

Deidre met Esmeray's eyes.

"I was 19 and happy when Sabrina showed up at the castle. My father, who always preferred Merwin, was old and ill by this time, so he could no longer bother me. My brother had been away at King Henselt's court and I could handle most of the courtiers. I was at a tender age and fell in love. His name was Roben. I even considered a morganite marriage....girlish fantasy...."

Esmeray listened carefully.

"Sabrina arrived with my brother, whom she already had on a short leash. She observed me, interrogated servants, and tested the situation. My father's company of Knights treated me like a daughter. I had always liked hunting and took part in manhunts for bandits. She needed proof, some spectacular way to defame me."

"And in your carelessness, you provided her with that proof," Esmeray put two and two together.

Deidre nodded and continued.

"Sabrina decided to provoke me. She seduced Roben using magic so powerful that his mind became confused. He suddenly developed an intense fear of animals, especially of the dogs he bred...I wanted to help him....it was then I discovered that mages found it hard to cast spells in my presence, and that spells previously cast gradually subsided if I was near. I went to the small chamber Roben inhabited just above the kennel....and I found Sabrina there...I admit I was enraged, haunted to tear her apart, but she was too quick. The hag flew out the window on a broom...Roben was left drooling, whimpering like a child.

"Within an hour he had ceased gibbering, and within two he understood what the witch had done to him. I thought all was in order and I could leave him. I wished to settle the score with her and entered the castle. I know not what happened, but the spell grasped Roben once more as soon as I was gone. He began feverishly seeking Sabrina. In his wildness, he entered a pen occupied by a very aggressive hunting hound."

"Did he survive?"

"Yes, though mentally he became a two-year-old child, a child that feared animals intensely...Sabrina blamed the accident on me. I swore then that I would kill her. I carry a blade, lest I get the opportunity to use it."

"I understand, thank you for sharing this info with me, Deidra, and....you're more than welcome to stay with me once we get this situation sorted out. I have a cozy place in Oxenfurt."

For the first time since their meeting, Deidra smiled at the older woman, and Esmeray saw not an ugly girl- but a brave young woman.

Once Esmeray was done speaking to Deidra, she only briefly spoke with Geralt in regard to where Eskel was. And it was there at the mouth of Kaer Morhen that it was decided that and agreed upon for Esmeray to teleport to the cave in which Eskel hid in [she briefly passed it on her way up to Kaer Morhen, so she knew where it was located] to speak to him while Geralt would go and deal with Sabrina and Deidre's brother, see if they could come to an understanding.

000

Bones of some sort greeted Esmeray's heeled feet at the mouth of the cave. She took a shape breath at the sight but continued along the old miner tracks that ran into the dark damp place.

From what Esmeray knew of the place, the mine near Kaer Morhen was at least as old as the fortress. Once, probably, a rich source of iron, ore, and what-have-you now a ruin. Esmeray seemed to have briefly recalled a memory of Eskel telling her that the witchers sometimes used the tunnels to gather ingredients for their witcher potions- of course, when pressed as to what ingredients they found down there, Eskel would change the subject.

Eskel was not afraid to shed light on his life as a witcher and did so openly with Esmeray, but when it came to the secrets of the witchers potions- it was his duty as a witcher to keep those to himself, not even with his own lover would he peep.

It did not, thankfully, take Esmeray long to find Eskel once in the cave. Her lover must've heard or smelled her coming, for she found him waiting expectantly near a small campfire.

"Esmeray," he called her over, and once she was near, he did not hesitate to pull her into a kiss.

Esmeray's lover, Eskel, had to have been around 6'foot something, for he stood at least a few inches taller than Esmeray herself [who was already quite a tall woman]. The sorceress rested her filed nails on Eskel's wide chest before dragging them along his broad shoulders and into his dark locks. Of course, Eskel was as pale as the other witchers, but unlike them, he had a sort of natural rose-tone to his found nose and cheeks.

Eskel wore, on this fine evening, a black jerkin with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of matching trousers, and boots that almost reached his knees.

"Eskel, my darling, this is fantastic- and I'm always happy to see you, but we need to talk about Deidre," Esmeray said upon breaking the kiss.

"Can it wait? I haven't seen you in three months," Eskel grunted into the fabric of Esmeray's collar.

"Well....I....suppose Geralt can wait-" Esmeray was pulled into another intimate kiss.

Despite his depressive mood, Eskel's kiss is sweet but greedy, in hot pursuit of a distraction. And a distraction Esmeray was all the willing to give. A moment later, the witcher is in the process of pulling the strings of her corset, one of the many useful tips he had learned over the course of their relationship, and in another moment, Esmeray found the expensive fabric of her dress on the cave floor.

Rather than annoyance or anger, relief floods the sorceress when Eskel's calloused hands start kneading her breasts- but it's not enough, and so she shakes the witcher's hands off and begins pulling off his jerkin.

Their feverish kisses continue until they're both completely stripped of their clothing and lying on a makeshift bed of said clothes next to the fire. And despite the chilled air of the cave, and the cold hard ground, Esmeray revel's in every moment of it.

000

"Care to tell me something about Deidre now?" Esmeray's voice echoed along the cave walls.

"Ugh....it was about 20 years ago. I rescued Deidre's father from a gang of bobolaks. I must've heard too many of Vesemir's stories about the eternal Law of Surprise...." Eskel's voice trailed off as he nuzzled his nose into the shoulder blades of Esmeray's bareback. Currently, the couple was still in the nude hiding out in the mining tunnel next to the fire.

They've made love for hours and from the entrance of the cave, Esmeray could see the sun setting. They really should get back to Kaer Morhen soon, Esmeray thought.

"The prince, spattered with bobolak blood, looked at me and said: 'you saved my life, witcher. As I am a debtor, say what you wish in return,'' Eskel continued with hesitation. "All I could think of was the famous line: 'you will give me that which you know not that you have! I shall return to Caingorn 6 years from now to see if destiny acted in my favor.' I never went back to caingorn, as you know, but then rumors started circulating about the Curse of the Black Sun, and there was confusion."

"And what do you know about the Curse of the Black Sun?" Esmeray turned over on her side to look at Eskel. Said witcher sitting up from his spot and Esmeray watched with mild fascination as he began to dress.

"I did take an interest in it and even bribed a certain wizard to let me look at documents drafted for the council of mages."

"You know you could've asked for my help, all mages know each other."

Eskel shook his head.

"It was years back before we even met. In any case, it seems the mages screwed up as usual. Which is why Sabrina Glevissig was chosen to examine the princess of Caingorn. It was hatred at first sight, or so I've heard. Something about a guy....."

"Yes, I seem to recall Deidre mentioning a lover..."

"It only got worse. Sabrina concluded she had enough proof to consider Deidre a cursed mutant and to subject her to 'real studies.' As I'm sure you've guessed, Deidre had no intention of being examined, not least because she was a princess. She persuaded several of the prince's warriors to get rid of Sabrina. All hell broke loose at the castle in caingorn. Many died, and there was some priestess among the corpses."

"And that is note-worthy because....?"

"It's not. From what I know, she landed in the wrong place at the wrong time. After it was all over, Deidre fled the castle."

"Which leads the pursuit here and now," Esmeray concluded, standing up from her spot and slipping on her now dirty dress. Normally, she wore light-colored clothes, but she did not regret her decision in wearing the dark green velvet fabric tonight. "We need to start heading back, I sort of left Geralt to deal with the problem. But we still need to decide what to do with Deidre. I believe she's an innocent girl- but she can't hide out here forever, none of you can continue to guard Kaer Morhen."

"I don't know," Eskel sighed. "I understand Vesemir's viewpoint, but I'm not keen on surrendering her to the sorceress. I know she'd meet an unpleasant end."

"She is your child's surprise, Eskel. Even though she's all grown, this is still your call."

"I know, though at this point the matter concerns you as well, we are.....y'know...together."

"I love it when you get all flushed. Fine. I'll consider it, but let's be going now."

Eskel nodded, somewhat relieved he wouldn't be dealing with this entirely on his own, and put out the small campfire before guiding the sorceress out of the dark tunnels.

000

When Esmeray and Eskel finally emerged from the cavern, they found the rest of the witchers by the river bay, and when they approached, Geralt was the first to speak.

"Okay, we're all here, I think it's time we decided on what to do."

"We need to figure out what to do with Deidre and her brother. Eskel wants everyone to say their piece. This concerns our safety and Kaer Morhen. A mistake could cost a great deal," Esmeray was the next to speak.

"I'll start," Vesemir announced. "I think we should stay out of this, meaning we can no longer shelter the girl. The reason is simple: if we meddle and Sabrina informs Henselt, Kaedwen will be off limits to us for decades."

"I don't really care for Deidre," Lambert stated next. "But I detest the fact that some blue blood who rules three coal hills comes here demanding obedience. This is Kaer Morhen, royal authority doesn't extend here. I think we need to drive away the noble and the sorceress."

"What about you Esmeray?" Geralt asked, turning to the red-headed woman.

"Deidre is a grown woman, she can take care of her own- not that I don't feel any sympathy for her, but I think she should come down here and sort matters on her own with her brother. How about you Eskel?"

"I'm torn," the golden-eyed witcher admitted. "I understand Vesemir....on the other hand, I owe the girl, I feel some kind of bond...I'm incapable of being objective. I'd like to hear your opinion, wolf," Eskel turned his gaze to his brother.

"We can't let the sorceress get her hands on the girl. It wouldn't be right," Geralt admitted.

"So what do we do about Sabrina and the nobleman?" Vesemir prompted.

"Deidre must give up her claims. That should satisfy Merwin. And the sorceress, well, she'll have to live with our decision..." Geralt answered.

"Either that or I'll turn her lovely little head into something to place on the mantle," Lambert muttered.

"Lambert, save your morbid lines for later. Let's try to resolve this peacefully," Geralt scolded.

"Alright. Eskel, Geralt, go see our princess. We'll wait for you here," Vesemir ordered.

000

"We've decided to help you," Geralt announced upon finding Deidre pacing back and forth along the path just outside of the Keep.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me," Deidre ceased her pacing and lowered her gaze as the witchers stopped just before her.

"We need to settle things with your brother. You have to go to the camp with us and tell him that you relinquish your claims to the throne and estate," Eskel explained.

"Thus stripping Sabrina of support," Geralt added.

"A high price, but I see no other choice," Deidre nodded, lifting her gaze to meet with Eskel's for the first time.

"That's settled then," Geralt sighed, happy that it was almost all over.

"I'm glad, Deidre, really," Eskel said earnestly.

It did not take nearly as long to get back down the river as before, and when they did, the Witchers and ladies set off immediately to the Kaedweni camp. The soldiers of the camp noticed their approach almost immediately, having been watching them across the river for some time, so by the time they crossed the bank- Merwin and Sabrina were already awaiting them.

"To what do we owe this procession?" The Weasley-looking prince grinned smugly.

"Prince Merwin, there's a way to resolve this peacefully," Esmeray stepped forward. Naturally, as a sorceress, she was used to dealing with royal brats.

"To feed the wolves while saving the sheep," Deidre stepped up next.

"Very well. I shall hear you out," Merwin agreed, gesturing for them to continue.

"Forgetting anyone?" Sabrina emerged from her tent, a furious expression on her face.

"No. This is strictly Merwin's business. We will speak with you too, Sabrina. Later," Geralt, also came to stand next to Esmeray.

"Merwin, I am prepared to relinquish my claim to the throne and the lands of caingorn, I am ready to give up my title as the princess," Deidre explained.

"Unconditionally?" Deidre's brother raised a brow.

"No, but I have only one. You will strike me from your mind. You will cease pursuing me and return home, taking this witch with you."

"Silence, woman!" Sabrina snapped. "Merwin, you must see through this. This is a trick."

"We will draft the necessary documents here and now, witnesses present. All will be clarified," Esmeray defended.

"Merwin, don't believe them. Remember how Roben ended?" Sabrina persisted.

"That was your doing, Glevissig, and your magic!" Deidre bared her teeth at the brunette.

"Merwin, order Bringgs to arrest Deidre. Only then will your title be safe! Without that, you will live in fear, always."

"I shall kill you witch!" Deidre shouted as she drew her blade. The next few moments were all a blur. One moment Esmeray was standing next to Deidre, and the next she found herself cradling Eskel's head on her lap- blood gushing from his face and staining her dress. Her healing magic is basically useless in the presence of Deidre.

000

The entire tavern fell silent. Everyone ceases their movement and chatter to watch and listen to the bard's tale.

Dandelion, knowing full well that all attention was on him, continued- though, with a lot more of a solemn tone than before.

"Eskel's unexpected child, Princess Deidre Ademeyn, born in destiny's shadow....she could have changed her own fate. Abandoned vengeance in favor of forgiveness, demonstrated kindness and humanity...The mercenaries were massacred in the fight at the camp. Was it worth it? Were the death of Nerton Bringgs and his mercenaries truly the lesser evil? No one can know that...In any case, Merwin and Deidre ruled jointly, leading caingorn during the best time in its history. Several years later a large crow arrived at Kaer Morhen carrying a letter bearing the seal of the princess of Caingorn. Eskel threw it into the fire without reading it. And not long after that, the relationship between Eskel and the sorceress, Esmeray of Carsten, fell apart. It wasn't until the arrival of Ciri at Kaer Morhen did Esmeray and Eskel see each other again- but that is a story for another time."

Chapter Text

'On the third day all the children died save one, a male barely ten. Hitherto agitated by a sudden madness, he fell all at once into deep stupor. His eyes took on a glassy gaze; incessantly with his hands did he clutch at clothing, or brandish them in the air as if desirous of catching a quill. His breathing grew loud and hoarse; sweat cold, clammy and malodorous appeared on his skin. Then was he once more given elixir through the vein and the seizure it did return. This time a nose-bleed did ensue, coughing turned to vomiting, after which the male weakened entirely and became inert.

For two days more did symptoms not subside. The child's skin, hiterto drenched in sweat, grew dry and hot, the pulse ceased to be full and firm- albeit remaining of average strength, slow rather than fast. No more did he wake, nor did he scream.

Finally, came the seventh day. The male awoke and opened his eyes, and his eyes were as those of a viper....'

--Carla Demetia Crest, The Trial of Grasses and other secret Witcher practices, seen with my own eyes, manuscript exclusively accessible to the Chapter of Wizards

Esmeray's hazel gaze lingered upon Eskel's form from where she stood, handsome as always with his dark hair and glowing eyes. Esmeray knew that he knew she was there, hiding around the bend, but even still, she crept to the shadowy walls of the cavern- wanting to just sit and watch him oil his blades.

"Do you intend to stand there and watch me all night, or would you care to join me?" Eskel's gruff voice echoed along the cave walls. Turning his head, the witcher's golden eyes spotted and locked onto the sorceress.

Slowly, said sorceress crept forward, her bare feet padding quietly along the cold dirt flooring of the cave.

"I was hoping to surprise you, but that's only a fool's dream- to sneak up on a witcher," Esmeray smiled.

"If you'd like, I could turn back around and we can pretend like this never happened- let you get the entrance you were hoping for. I know you sorceresses so love being dramatic," Eskel smiled, turning back to the sword on his lap, and setting it aside.

"There's a lot to talk about, Eskel," Esmeray stopped just behind him.

"Then do I get the feeling that you don't want to talk at all," Eskel stood and faced his beloved once more- pulling her into his embrace and resting his large hands on the small of her back.

"I'm happy to see you," Esmeray spoke quietly, resting her slender arm's on his shoulders.

"You've been on my mind a lot here lately," he answered.

"Only lately?"

"Always, but more so than usual."

Eskel hooked his finger under Esmeray's chin and guided her lips to his.

Soon the lovers melted together- lips pressed tight, hands roaming freely, groping, grasping, and pulling at each other. Eskel buried his nose into her long red locks and inhaled her scent- almost animalistically- before moving down and attacking her neck in a flurry of kisses.

In response to this, Esmeray squirmed and withered within his grasp and she exploded into a fit of childish laughter. He chuckled against her neck but kept his strong arms wrapped around her slender form- continuing his ministrations with his mouth. It wasn't long until Eskel's kisses became more sensual and Esmeray found her laughter dying down and instead evolving into quiet moans and small whimpers.

Growing hot between her legs, Esmeray ground herself against Eskel's thigh- pushing him back and knocking him down to the ground- dragging her on top of him. Still, no complaints were heard from the witcher as he allowed the sorceress to push his shoulders back until he lay sprawled out before her. With a look of both amazement and fascination, Eskel watched as the auburn-haired woman began stripping herself of her clothing and only snapping out of his trance when he noticed her struggling with his belts and buckles.

Not too long thereafter, the lovers were both stripped and entirely in the nude- though it probably would've helped if Esmeray had magically removed their clothes, the sorceress was not in the headspace to have thought of such a thing in the heat of the moment.

Eskel groaned, toying with the hardened nubs of Esmeray's breasts. Arching her back forward over the witcher, Esmeray guided one of Eskel hands down her breasts, across her stomach, until the warrior's battle-hardened fingers brushed up against her tender folds. He massaged her sensitive clit, the bud of the rose aching for his attention- but the witcher drew back his hand and instead guided the sorceress by her hips to meet his.

Teasingly, the sorceress rocked her hips forward, just barely brushing her middle with his. Eskel grunted in response, and sucked in some air- he pushed upward- catching the woman above off guard.

A sharp moan bounced off the walls as Esmeray had to adjust to his girthy cock. But not too soon after, the woman began rocking her hips back and forth varying in rhythm.

Being in a state of bliss, the sorceress relaxed her shoulders, closed her eyes, and allowed her moans to roll off her body with her movements. Only really being steady by the witcher's grip on her hips.

Grunting, Eskel angered his hips upward to meet with the sorceress' increasing speed. Between his lover's moaning and the lewd slapping sound, the world was drowned out for the pair.

Noticing the irregular rhythm Esmeray had begun to take on, Eskel flipped their position in one swift movement.

Promptly, the sorceress' leg's wrapped around the witcher's waist, and as his mouth latched onto one of her breasts, her hands dug themselves into his dark hair.

The thrill of having sex doors and the slim possibility of one of the other witchers, or even one of the Kadewenie soldier's walking in and finding the, in such a position proved too much for Esmeray to handle as she buckled her hips forward to meet his.

And her high came with the feeling of Eskel's throbbing cock inside of her and a silent scream on her lips.

Esmeray revealed in the feeling of Eskel's trembling form above her as he, too, reaches his high.

Chapter Text

'Upriver we saw their towns, as delicate as if they were woven from the morning mist out of which they loomed. It seemed as if they would disappear a moment later, blown away on the wind which rippled the surface of the water. There were little palaces, white as nenuphar flowers; there were little towers looking as though they were plaited out of ivy; there were bridges as airy as weeping willows. And there were other things for which we could find no word or name. Yet we already had names for everything which our eyes beheld in this new, reborn world. Suddenly, in the far recesses of our memories, we found the words for dragons and griffins, mermaids and nymphs, sylphs and dryads once more. For the white unicorns which drank from the river at dusk, inclining their slender necks towards the water. We named everything. And everything seemed to be close to our hearts, familiar to us, ours.

Apart from them. They, although so resembling us, were alien. So very alien that, for a long time, we could find no word for their strangeness.'

--Hen Gedymdeith, Elves and Humans

Triss Merigold was much the same as Esmeray of Carsten, so much so that the two were oftentimes confused for one another- what with them both being red-headed sorceresses and all, despite their obvious age gap. But this did not upset Esmeray in the slightest. Like most people, Esmeray found that she rather enjoyed the company of the younger sorceress- which was why she was pleased to have found the sorceress on her way up to Kaer Morhen. That and Esmeray really didn't want to go up to the witcher's Keep all by herself- not with what happened last time she was there.....

"You've got two options, old thing," Triss' voice snapped Esmeray out of her thoughts. "Either you get used to magic or I sell you to some peasants to pull a plow." For a comical moment, Esmeray had thought her companion to be speaking to her, but upon spinning around in her saddle, she was amused to see her friend struggling with her stead as she desperately tried casting a small spell to warm her from the fridge winter air.

"Having trouble there?" Esmeray laughed and Triss shot her a sheepish look.

"Just a bit- oh, I really wish Geralt hadn't asked me to come on such short notice," Triss pouted as she rode her steed along the path next to Esmeray and her horse- who was also a nameless mare.

It was true in the invite to the fortress was spontaneous- even more so to Esmeray; seeing as how her relationship with Eskel ended about a decade ago. But the urgency in which the way Geralt wrote to her, asking for her to come....well, Esmeray couldn't deny the help of a friend, even if he were the brother of her ex-lover.

The forest before the women came to an eventual end, giving way to a wide valley strewn with boulders that ran from one end to the other of the sheer mountain slope on the other side. The Gwenllech- or that River of White Stones- flowed down the heart of the valley. To most, the Gwenllech was no more than a wide but shallow stream- but to Esmeray, it held many memories. It was there that she ran into Sabrina, first met Lambert, and almost lost the life of her lover.

Both horses crossed the river bank with clopping splashes of water.

Kaer Morhen was close, and sensing Esmeray's brooding mood at the sight of the castle, Triss urged the gelding up ahead of the path. The narrow path holds crumpled stone walls on both sides. It grew warmer on the path that ran through another thicket of brush with the wind being cut off.

Triss rode down towards the forest with ease, and only briefly looked back to see if Esmeray still followed, and she did.

The old horse beneath Triss snorted then danced and then stamped in place as Triss tried to get her to go under a fallen log in the path (that was being held up by the stone walls). Briefly cursing the horse, she eventually got it to do as she commanded, and when she looked around the path- she realized where she was out.

The Killer was the name of the path that encircled Kaer Morhen, or so Esmeray had told her. It was given that name for all the dangerous obstacles the witchers used to train their wards. The path was meant to improve the witchers running speeds and to help control their breathing.

Triss clung to the neck of her steed and slowly rode forward, now much warier of her surroundings than before.

It was at that moment she heard stones grating, followed by fast light footfalls of someone running.

Turning in her saddle, Triss pulled the reins and waited for the witcher to run out onto the long above her head.

And a few moments later, a witcher did indeed run out onto the log. Triss barely had time to take a glance at him as he darted like an arrow right over her head- but she did take note of his small stature.

'A boy? I didn't realize the witchers were still taking kids in,' Triss thought to herself as Esmeray pulled up beside her.

"What's the matter?" Esmeray asked, now out of her daydream trance.

"I saw a little boy," Triss said, nudging her horse forward. Triss knew the trail cut across a ravine once more at a spot known as the Gullet, but she wanted to catch a glimpse of the little witcher once more- and judging by the look on Esmeray's face, she was curious as well.

And after a few minutes of slow riding, the sorceress's wish came true as Triss spotted the little witcher's silhouette on one of the jagged rocks the boy jumped over it- only he made a mistake, and slipped and fell.

Both magicians glanced at each other, but when they heard a quiet cry from the other side of the boulder, they both sprung up off their steeds and made their way over to the boy.

The witches found the boy huddled on the stones on the other side of the boulder, and upon seeing them, the boy jumped like a spring and backed away from them as fast as he could. Only, with his bruised knee, he did not get far and tripped and collapsed back down with a hiss of pain. And both sorceresses could only stare dumbly with their mouths agape like fools.

Because the young witcher was not a boy at all.

Emerald green eyes stared up at the two from beneath a mop of ashen blonde locks that were poorly tied back in a sad excuse of a ponytail attempt. The girl's face was flushed from the run, but even then a litter of a million freckles could be made out along her face. The main reason why the women had mistaken the girl for a boy was because of the dirty clothes that hung poorly off of her form. She must've been around the age of twelve.

"Don't be afraid," Triss was the first to speak, but once she did not receive a response, she spoke again. "Nothing's happened to you?" Triss glanced at the girl's knee.

The little witcher did not reply but instead tried once more to spring up and run.....which resulted as it did the first time.

"It's okay, we were just worried about you," Esmeray then spoke. "We saw you fall and wanted to see if you were okay is all."

"I slipped," the girl finally murmured.

"Have you hurt yourself?" Triss asked.

"No. You?" The girl answered, causing both women to chuckle and relax forward a bit, only Triss winced and swore at the pain in her ankle- she must've bashed it against the saddle earlier.

"Esmeray, will you go make sure the horses hadn't run off," Triss requested, and with a nod, Esmeray disappeared behind the rocks. "Come here little one, help me up."

"I'm not little."

"If you say so. In that case, what are you?"

"A witcher!"

"Ha! So, come here and help me get up witcher."

The little witcher hesitated.

"Have no fear," Triss smiled. "We've no bandits or outsiders. My name is Triss Merigold, and my friend here is Esmeray- she's from Carsten. We're actually on our way up to Kaer Morhen. The witchers know us. Don't gape at me. I respect your suspicion but be reasonable. Would we really have gotten this far if we hadn't known the way? Have you ever met a human on the Trail?"

With that reassurance, the girl approached Triss and helped her to stand. Although, truth be told, Triss did not need the help and merely only wanted a closer look at the witcher-girl. Said witcher-girl's green gaze showed no sign of mutations, and upon her touch, Triss noted that she could not feel any magic.

"Show me your knee, little one."

"I'm not little."

"Sorry. But surely you have a name?"

"I do. I'm...Ciri."

"It's a pleasure. A bit closer if you please, Ciri."

"It's nothing."

"I want to see what 'nothing' looks like. Ah, that's what I thought. 'Nothing' looks remarkably like torn trousers and skin grazed down to raw flesh. Stand still and don't be scared."

"I'm not scared- awww!"

Triss laughed at Ciri as she rubbed her palm- itching slightly from casting a spell.

"Oh! It doesn't hurt anymore! And there's no hole....was that magic?"

"You've guessed it."

"Are you a witch?"

"Guessed again. Although we witches don't like being called that. We prefer to be called entrantress'. To avoid getting it wrong you can call me by my name, Triss. Just Triss."

"Is the other girl with you also a witc- I mean, an entranchtresseseesssss," Ciri struggled to say 'entrantress.'

"Yes, now come along, Ciri. Esmeray is waiting on us. We'll all go up to Kaer Morhen together."

"I ought to run," Ciri shook her head. "It's not good to stop running because you get milk in your muscles. Geralt says-"

"Geralt is at the Keep?"

Ciri frowned and shot a glance up at Triss- causing the older woman, yet again, to laugh at her behavior.

Thankfully, neither of the horses had run away, which now only left Esmeray to wait on the two. When Triss and the young witcher-girl did make an appearance- Triss promptly introduced the girl to Esmeray as 'Ciri.'

Ciri, now healed and energetic, slid into the saddle in front of Triss and allowed the sorceress to take the reins and guide them along the path. Together, they all rode across another gully and climbed the rounded mountainside. From there they could see the ruins of Kaer Morhen huddled against the side of the mountain.

Triss' horse snorted and jerked its head, crossing what remained of the bridge over the large, steep moat, followed by Esmeray and her mount. Triss tugged at the reins. The decaying skulls and skeletons strewn across the riverbed made no impression on any of them. They had all seen them before.

"I don't like this," Ciri broke the silence, her gaze focused on the dead. "It's not as it should be. The dead should be buried in the ground. Under a barrow. Shouldn't they?"

"They should," Triss said calmly, "I think so, too. But the witchers treat this graveyard as a....reminder."

"A reminder of what?"

"Kaer Morhen was assaulted. There was a bloody battle here in which almost all the witchers died. Only those who weren't in the Keep at the time survived."

Esmeray stayed silent as she listened to Triss spoke- she had already known of the horrors the young witcher-boys had gone through.

"Who attacked them? And why?"

"I don't know," Triss lied. "It was a terribly long time ago, Ciri. Ask the witchers about it."

Esmeray did not call Triss out on her lie- it was something Ciri could not hope to understand at her age.

"I have!" Ciri whined. "But they didn't want to tell me......They don't want to lie like that. They don't want to be a symbol, a bad conscience, or a warning. But neither do they want their dust to be swept away by the wind."

Both Triss and Esmeray's heads snapped to look at Ciri; her voice had somehow changed- gone darker, and both women could feel a magical aura pulsating- and Esmeray felt a rush of blood in her temples. But neither of them uttered a word as they stared down at Ciri, whose face was blank. Like she was somehow in a trance.

"An ordinary barrow," Ciri went on. "A mound of earth which will be overgrown with nettles. Death has cold blue eyes, and the height of the Obelisk does not matter, nor does the writing engraved on its matter. Who can know that better than you, Triss Merigold, the Fourteenth one of the Hill?"

Both women froze and tension filled the air heavily.

"You died on the Hill, Triss Merigold. Why have you come here? Go back, go back at once and take this child, the Child of Elder Blood, with you. Return her to those to whom she belongs. Do this, Fourteenth one. Because if you do not you will die once more. The day will come when the Hill will claim you. The mass grave, and the Obelisk on which your name is engraved, will claim you."

Triss' horse suddenly neighed loudly and jerked its head, snapping the child out of whatever trance she was under.

"What happened?" Triss asked, trying to control her voice and blink away the tears.

"Nn.....nothing....." Ciri groggily murmured, her voice back to normal and the magical aura quickly fading away. "I'm tired, that's why....that's why I fell asleep. I ought to run...."

The Witchers greeted the women at the gate of Kaer Morhen.

"Welcome to Kaer Morhen, Triss, Esmeray," Geralt nodded to both women.

'Hadn't changed a bit since last I saw him, I see,' Esmeray noted and she and her companions slipped from their seats.

"Greetings, Geralt."

"Hello, Geralt," both greeted at the same time.

"Welcome," he repeated. "We are glad you've come."

Eskel stood next to Geralt, resembling the White Wolf like a brother in most ways, apart from hair color, length, and the nasty scar that disfigured half his face. The scar that Deidre had given him, and that of which Esmeray thought he'd die from, and of which had been one of the causes for their separation......they have healed quite a bit since she last saw them, still, they'd be engraved into his flesh for the rest of his long life.

Esmeray still thought him handsome, though she held herself back from commenting on his appearance- or saying anything to him, for that matter- and instead turned her gaze to the rest of the witchers.

Lambert stood next to Eskel- still looking like an ugly rat, especially with the mocking expression he currently held. Vesemir was nowhere to be seen, though Esmeray had no doubt the older witcher would make his appearance soon.

"Welcome and come in," Eskel said. "It is cold and blustery as if someone has hung themself. Ciri, where are you off to? The invitation does not apply to you. The sun is still high, even if it is obscured. You can still train."

"Hey," Triss called. "Politeness comes cheap in witchers' Keep now, I see. Ciri was the first to greet us and brought us to the castle. She ought to Keep us company-"

"She is undergoing training here, Merigold," Lambert cut in. "She is a student, not a majordomo. Welcoming guests, even such pleasant ones as yourself, is not one of her duties. We're off, Ciri."

To this, Triss gave up the fight- she had argued with the young witcher enough times to know when a battle was a lost cause- and brushed him off.

"I'll take your horses," Geralt offered, taking the reins of both mares.

"I'll come with you!" Triss was quick to offer before adding: "there are a few little things in the saddlebags which I'll need."

Esmeray watched the two disappear into the stables across the courtyard before turning back to the other two witchers.

"Esmeray I-" Eskel began but was cut short by the slamming of the front door.

"Esmeray, my dear! Welcome back!"

Said the sorceress and two witchers turned their heads in the direction to see Vesemir making his way down the steps.

"Vesemir!" A smile bloomed on Esmeray's face before the old witcher pulled her into a hug.

"Triss and Geralt disappeared into the barn, who knows what they're getting up to," Lambert said with a shit-eating grin. Esmeray rolled her eyes.

'Triss and Geralt wouldn't be doing anything of such, foolish witcher. Geralt may no longer be with Yennefer, but everyone knows that the poor man is drawn to that woman like a moth to the flames. It's only a matter of time before they make up and get back together again- of course, they'll fight and break up again, that's a given. And Triss is far too intelligent to concern herself with relationships......although...she did seem eager and excited to see him....' Esmeray pondered before shaking those thoughts from her head. Who Geralt decides to sleep with was none of her concern- even if it is with two of her friends.

It was then that Esmeray decided that she'd never get involved with Geralt, ever. The witcher had a clear thing for mages and messing around with multiple women- powerful women; it could only end in disaster.

The enchantress freed herself from Vesemir's bear-like embrace to cast her eyes over to the other figure that had accompanied him.

He was young, apparently the same age as Lambert, and wore a short, black full beard which did little to hide the old scars from smallpox- something any normal witcher should've been immune to, but by the yellow-greenish hue of his cat eyes, it was clear that something had gone wrong during the witcher's mutations.

"Esmeray, this is Coën," Eskel introduced upon noticing their locked gazes- and unbeknownst to his ex-lover and fellow witcher, he felt the stir of jealousy in his gut. "This is Coën's first winter with us. He comes from the north, from Poviss."

Coën bowed.

"Let us go and grab Triss and Geralt, child," Vesemir suggested. "I imagine the two of you ladies will need time to relax from your long journey."

000

The next morning was sunny but terribly cold. Esmeray had slept fine for the most part of the night; only occasionally being stirred from her sleep by Triss' tossing and turning.

Both women were the last to arrive in the main hall for breakfast- sorceresses valued their appearance, after all, and thus it takes them much longer to get ready for the day than most.

Triss wore a tight but flowy ankle-length turquoise blue dress along with a matching amulet, belt, and hair ties that fashioned her auburn lock's into twin buns behind her head.

Esmeray, on the other hand, wore a button-up dark green dress fashioned with a maroon red shawl around her hips.

Both were rewarded for their efforts by the compliments and shy glances from the witchers at the table (though neither of the women dressed so just for the appeal of men).

Esmeray spent her breakfast ideally chatting with friends about trivial matters- even having a casual conversation with Eskel at one point- but that all shifted gears the moment Ciri whined out:

"Water again?! My teeth go numb when I drink water! I want some juice! That blue one!"

"Don't slouch!" Lambert quickly barked out, stealing a glance at both women warily, which of course meant that he had something to hide. "And don't wipe your mouth with your sleeve! Finish your food; it's time for training. The days are getting shorter."

"Geralt," Triss finished her plate. "Ciri fell on the Trail yesterday. Nothing serious, but it was because of that jester's outfit she wears. It all fits so badly, and it hinders her movements."

Vesemir coughed awkwardly and turned his gaze away in embarrassment- clearly signally that it was his handy work.

"The days are, indeed, getting shorter," Esmeray added as she looked up to Lambert who sat across from her. "But we're going to make today shorter still. Ciri, have you finished? Come with me and Triss, if you please. We shall make some vital adjustments to your uniform."

Ciri's room was small but cozy. The girl had decorated it in an adorable attempt to the rest of the witcher's quarters. Like theirs, it was devoid of most furniture except a shanty excuse of a bed, a stool, and a trunk located at the foot of her bed. From the tower Esmeray had been given from Coën, the witcher's decorated their walls and doors hunting; and on the door to Ciri's little room, hung the skin of what appeared to be a very large rat.

Esmeray had to stop Triss from tearing down the stinking abomination from her door and throwing it out the window when Ciri wasn't looking.

"Let's try....to make this....sheath fit a bit better," Esmeray said after shooting a glare at Triss. "Triss has always had a knack for cutting and sewing, and I'd say I have plenty of experience in that field myself. So we ought to be able to manage this goat skin, too. And you, little witcher-girl, have you ever had a needle in your hand? Have you been taught anything other than making holes with a sword in sacks of straw?"

Ciri puffed her cheeks in slight embarrassment.

"When I was in Transfer, in Kagen, I had to spin. They didn't give me any sewing because I only spoilt the linen and wasted thread; they had to undo everything. The spinning was terribly boring- yuk!"

"Very true," Triss giggled. "It's hard to find anything more boring. I hated spinning, too."

"And did you have to? I did it because...But you're a wi- magician. You can conjure anything up! That amazing dress...did you two conjure them up?!" Ciri looked back and forth in excitement.

"I'm afraid not," Esmeray smiled. "We bought them from a tailor in Oxenfurt- a good friend of ours. Her name is Elihal, perhaps you'll meet her someday," Esmeray said as her thoughts traveled to the beautifully strange elf in drag she had met (and briefly hooked up with) in a tavern a few years back.

"But what about my clothes? Will you conjure them up?" Ciri asked.

"There's no need. A magic needle is enough, one which we shall charm into working more vigorously. And if there's a need..." Triss slowly ran her hand across the torn hole in the sleeve of Ciri's jacket, casting a spell and before they knew it, not a trace remained of that hole.

Ciri squealed adorably with joy.

"That's magic! I'm going to have a magical jacket! Wow!"

"Only until we can make you a better one. Now common now, take all that off. Surely those aren't the only clothes you have?" Esmeray eyed the chest at the foot of Ciri's bed, and the small girl made haste to open it. Once open, the girl revealed a faded midnight-blue cloak-like dress, brown wool trousers, and a brown linen shirt.

"Well," Esmeray began, bending down and going through the clothes, "looks like we have our work cut out for us."

000

"Calm down, Esmeray," Lambert groaned. "It's unhealthy to get so worked up, especially with no reason."

"Don't you dare sweep this under the rug! This is serious! Have any of you seen how terribly battered this child is?! From the neck down, and I swear this to you, she's all purple and black!" Esmeray argued back, her angry orb's searching the faces of the witchers.

"Dear child," Vesemir spoke gravely, "don't let yourself get carried away by your emotions. You were brought up differently, you've seen children being brought up in another way. Ciri comes from the south where girls and boys are brought up in the same way, like the elves. She was put on a pony when she was already riding out hunting. She was taught to use a bow, javelin, and sword. A bruise is nothing new to Ciri-"

Vesemir was cut off by the sound of Triss storming from down the hall.

"Don't give me that nonsense!" Triss yelled, picking her head out from Ciri's door when she was in the midst of healing that poor child.

"That girl...." Geralt began cooly, "that petite, delicate princess lived through the Massacre of Cintra. Left entirely on her own devices, she stole past Nilfgaard's cohorts. She successfully fled the Marauders who prowled the villages, plundering and murdering anything that still lived. She survived on her own for two weeks in the fortress of Transriver, entirely alone. She spent a month roaming with a pack of fugitives, slogging as hard as all the others and starving like all the others. For almost half a year, having been taken in by a peasant family, she worked on the land and with the livestock."

"Believe us, Esmeray," Eskel was the next to speak up. "Life has tired, seasoned, and hardened her no less than good-for-nothings like us, who were brought to Kaer Morhen from the highways."

"Now you know that's not what I meant," Esmeray sighed. Her eye were washing over with pity for the witcher's and her heart aching with guilt. "Look, maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement...."

000

"Conditions?" Eskel gulped nervously. "But we've already promised to ease Ciri's training, Ezzy. What other conditions could you and Triss possibly want?"

It was later in the day when Eskel primarily approached Esmeray up in her quarters which were located in a tower overlooking the mountains. Esmeray sat comfortably near the hearth, curled up on a pile of furs and reading a book.

"Perhaps you all are simply looking at all this the wrong way...." She glanced up at Eskel through her dark lashes. "Perhaps instead of viewing these terms as 'conditions,' you all simply heed our warnings. I and Triss are not here to tell you all what you can and cannot do- we just want to offer criticism on your parenting," Esmeray set her book down and stood to her full height- which was almost the same as Eskel's himself.

"I will offer you three simple rules and it is your choice whether or not you follow them."

Eskel sighed.

"Okay, I'm listening. What have you and Triss come up with?"

"We've decided that, above all else, Ciri's menu is to be more varied. And don't you give me that look- I know you have been feeding her your secret witcher mushrooms. Give her fewer of your infusions and mysterious herbs. Oh! And more milk. You have goats here, yes? I know you all planned to make her a witcher- but as a sorceress, I'm begging you, follow our advice. You won't let me run tests on your witcher potions- and I respect that, but I have no idea what your potions will do to her. If you all are infertile then chances are so shall she if you keep feeding her that stuff. We don't want a repeat of what happened to Yennefer and the jin, now do we?"

Eskel stayed quiet, his eyes trained on the fire in the hearth.

"And....have you noticed anything irreversible in her?"

Esmeray smiled and Eskel met her eyes.

"Nothing that neither I nor Triss has picked up on."

000

The first snow fell the following day, a beautiful sight to wake up to, but soon it turned into a blizzard and Esmeray found herself asking the Gods why Kaer Morhen wasn't built near a tropical beach instead.

Triss gave Ciri elixirs to drink to help with the pain and blood flow of the young girl's menstrual cycle and laid down some more ground rules to the witchers- who all, even Lambert, agreed to.

Esmeray spent that day lounging around by the hearth and reading and, later on in the evening, Eskel had come up to the tower with dinner for her. The two of them ate quietly together. The silence was peaceful, but Esmeray had begun wondering where this left their relationship at.

"A good elf is a dead elf."

--Marshal Milan Raupenneck

"Ooh, a pox on it all!" Esmeray cursed loudly through the dining hall.

"Your fears were unfounded, entirely ungrounded," Triss ignored Esmeray's irritation as she formed her own icy glare to shoot across the table at their accusers. "The time when wizards used to hunt sources and magically gifted children, tearing them from their parents or guardians by force or deceit, is long gone. Did you really think that we might want to take Ciri away from you?"

Lambert muttered some sort of snarky remark under his breath at her words- which, in turn, caused him to receive a swift kick in the shin from beneath the table by Eskel.

"No, child," Vesemir, forever the peacekeeper, spoke up. "But we do know that it is your duty as sorceresses to report Ciri to the Chapter. We've known for a long time that every wizard, male or female, is burdened with this duty. You don't take talented children from their parents and guardians anymore. You observe such children so that later- at the right moment- you can fascinate them in magic, influence them-"

Triss interrupted him.

"Have no fear. I will not tell anyone about Ciri. Not even the Chapter. And I doubt Esmeray will either-" Triss turned her sharp gaze over towards said woman.

"Forgive us, Triss, Esmeray," Eskel spoke up next. "We did not intend to insinuate that either of you wasn't capable of keeping a secret, but we're also aware of your famous loyalty to the council and Chapter, Triss."

"A lot has happened in the last few years..." Esmeray suddenly spoke, her voice nothing more than a mere whisper- but enough to catch every attention. "The war on sodden Hill has changed many things. Politics aren't the same anymore. So believe me when I say this; Triss can be loyal to both the Chapter and to you, witchers. As for me...Well, I've long since stopped caring about the Chapter, or the Council for that matter."

"How could you say that?!" Triss yelled, her anger now directed at Esmeray. "You're a mage! The council has given you everything! How could you not care?!"

Esmeray opened her mouth to speak but sweetly closed it when Geralt, like the hero he was, was interviewed.

"Such double loyalty is devilishly difficult to manage, and rarely does it ever succeed, Triss."

Geralt's voice was enough to calm the entrance down, and his question enough to distract her- but as the red-headed woman began to speak, Esmeray took her to leave from the dining hall.

000

He had brushed the hair behind her ear- that is what had awoken her that night.

"Eskel?" She sat up from her spot, the old bed creaking in protest against this.

"I'm here," he whispered to her in the dark room. How had she known it was him there? He had no idea and doubted she knew either.

Something just could not be explained.

"What are you doing here? Where's Triss?" Esmeray squinted her green gaze through the darkness, but could only watch the faint outline of his features.

"In Ciri's room. She had a nightmare- went into another trance and Triss decided to stay with her. Thought I'd come to see if you were alright."

Eskel was kneeling over her; his body partially sitting on the side of the bed.

"Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You were upset earlier."

"We were all upset earlier."

"But you said something that shocked me. You said that you didn't care about the council."

"And why did that, of all the things I've ever said, stick with you?"

"Because if you're not here to spy, and you're not here to take Ciri away- why are you here?"

"Because I knew you'd be here."

A long stretch of silence followed after her answer. Esmeray couldn't tell what he was thinking and now, more than ever, wished the hearth fire hadn't gone out.

"Why?" Eskel's voice finally cut through the thick silence that filled her lungs and choked her.

"Because I love you, you absolute fool...why did you leave me? Was it because of Deidra?" Esmeray's dainty fingers brushed gently across the side of his face; taking in the bumps of rough skin the scar left behind.

"Yes..." He managed to say; his voice as taut as a fishing line. "I didn't want to burden you with...with being with someone like me. Not when you could be with a handsome sorcerer or someone reliable.....Esmeray, I abandoned that girl. My destiny and it came back to slap me in the face. I couldn't bare the thought of something bad happening to you because of my careless acts."

"Eskel, nothing will happen to me."

He pulled away from her grasp.

"I know you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but what if-"

"Then we'll deal with it together."

He felt his heart flutter when her hand grasped his.

"Eskel...stay with me tonight."

It wasn't a question, it wasn't a demand, it was an offer that he couldn't refuse.

000

The snow stopped falling around Midinváerne, and while this signaled the end of another and the approach of spring, Eskel found himself in no hurry to get back onto The Path. He and Esmeray were finally back together, and all was well. No more will he spend his nights alone, no more will he have to satisfy his own pleasure- his love was with him again and for the first time in a very long time, he felt needed and was cared for.

If the others had noticed their suddenly reformed relationship- they didn't comment on it. Eskel spent his day's training, rebuilding certain parts of the Keep to keep the cold out; and his nights in the arms of the only woman who's ever truly mattered to him.

Esmeray spent her time in the company of Triss and Ciri during the days until February finally hit.

It was evening now, and there was a peculiar excitement in the air. A week back, the snow had all but disappeared entirely, and both Triss and Esmeray knew that their time at Kaer Morhen was coming to a close.

All were gathered around the dining table in the mess hall, Witchers being unusually talkative about the fast-approaching spring- but unease was still settled into the pit of Esmeray's stomach.

'What's going to happen in the next couple of days?' She wondered to herself. 'Will things between me and Eskel fall back to how they were when we first started seeing each other? Or will this relationship solely be something that lasts only during the wintering months?'

Her unwanted thoughts came to a ramped end when her lover, Eskel, turned to her with a question. One she had been expecting.

"What's going on south of the yaruga? You're a sorceress, you would know if there's a war to be expected over there. Wouldn't want to run into any trouble, now would we?"

"Trouble as in...Nilfgaard?" Esmeray raised an eyebrow and duly noted Ciri stiffen in her seat at the mention.

"So what?" Lambert cut in. "They've been hitting, killing, and striking against each other constantly for hundreds of years. It's nothing to worry about. I've already decided- I'm going to the far south, to sodden, Mahakam and Angren. It's well known that monsters were aboard wherever armies were passed. The most money is always made in places like that."

"True that," Coën nodded, raising his mug of mead and bumping it against Lambert's. "The neighborhood grows excited, only women who can't fend for themselves remain in the villages...scones of children with no home or care roams around...Easy prey attracts monsters."

"And the lord barons and village elders," Eskel added on, "have their heads full of the war and don't have the time to defend their subjects. They have to hire us. It's true. But from what Triss has been telling us all these evenings, it seems the conflict with Nilfgaard is more serious than that, not just some local little war. Is she right about that, Esmeray?"

Esmeray felt her jaw go taunt.

"If that were true... is that where you intend on going?"

"Well yes, but-"

Esmeray didn't bother to listen to the explanation, she didn't want to hear it- to listen to his excuse, to know that when spring finally comes that their little fiasco would be over. She stomped out of the room- very childishly and uncharacteristically of her, but at that moment, she didn't care. She was upset and wanted him to know it.

000

Eskel knew immediately where Esmeray had run to but made no haste to chase after her.

It's not that he didn't want to, and it certainly wasn't because he was worried he had upset her- he most certainly was. But he knew her well and knew she needed space and so he opted to stay behind with the others.

When Eskel did decide that enough time had passed; he found her sitting at a small writing desk, a book about the local herbs open and only a few candles lit around the small library that the witchers had actually made an effort to keep up.

Eskel approached her chair from behind but deliberately dragged his feet on the stone tilt to let her know he was there. He knew she hated being snuck up on.

"Come in, Eskel," her voice was soft and quiet, no longer bearing the anger she held earlier.

She tossed her braided hair over her shoulder and only turned slightly to look at Eskel as he came into the dim, flickering light.

"Do you feel alright?" He asked, his voice like a gentle wave.

"I don't know..." She answered honestly.

"Are you still angry with me?"

She turned around fully in her chair to look at him now.

"I wasn't angry with you in the first place, just...upset that this will end once spring comes."

Eskel immediately knew what she was talking about. He knew she feared their relationship would end.

"It won't end," he promised as he got down on his knees. He rested his arms in her lap and grasped the hands that sat in them. "I'll have to go back onto The Path, true, but I will always come back to you."

A small smile tugged on the corner of her lips.

Chapter Text

"They roam the land, importunate and insolent, nominating themselves the stalkers of evil, vanquishers of werewolves and exterminationators of specter's, extorting payment from the gullible and, on receipt of their ignoble earnings, moving on to dispense the same deceit in the near vicinity. The easiest access they find at cottages of honest, simple, and unwitting peasants who readily ascribe all misfortune and ill events to spells, unnatural creatures, and monsters, the doings of wind spirits or evil spirits. Instead of praying to gods, instead of bearing the witcher, the godless changeling, will turn around his fate and save him from misfortune."

----Anonymous, Monstrum, or Description of the Witcher

'Gors Velen,' Eskel commented, coming to rein in his black stallion alongside his lover. ``Remind me why we're here again?'

It took approximately 3 weeks total for the sorceress Esmeray of Carsten and Witcher Eskel to reach the city of Gors Velen from Kaer Morhen. The two could've gotten there much faster if Eskel would've just agreed to take a portal from city to city until they reached their destination- alas, just like Geralt, Eskel had an unreasonable amount of hate [or perhaps fear?] of portals. Plus, there was also the fact that Eskel was in need of work and didn't want to miss out on any possible job opportunities on the road- so the two had to go by horseback.

The city of Gors Velen itself, like most cities on this side of the continent, was surrounded by towering brick walls with sky-scraping towers to pick up from within those walls. And beyond the city was a vast grey-green sea that sparkled from the early-rising sun, freckled only a few places with the sails of merchant's vessels. Esmeray stopped her grey mare just before the sand drop that led to the city before the pair.

'We'll only be here briefly, my love,' Esmeray replied. 'Then we shall be off to Thanedd, and from there we shall attend a banquet-'

Eskel groaned.

'-at Aretuza. Stop whining. I have to attend, even if I'm taking a break from politics. Every sorceress and well-respected sorceress will be there. Think of it as my version of a yearly Kaer Morhen witcher reunion. Now, sit up, and let's continue on the road. We're simply going to be here to stop, rest for the evening, and continue on our way- and yes, you will have to wear a doublet for the banquet. Hush now, my love, I shall find one comfortable for you to wear.'

The bridge leading to Gors Velen was a long column full of wagons, horses, and even travelers on foot. And it was at this moment that Eskel remembered precisely why he hated cities. It had to have taken at least an hour before the pair moved from their spot on the bridge and for traffic to lighten up, and when they did finally reach the guard's stand post at the gate, they were promptly stopped and questioned why they were entering the city. It was all quite unnecessary, really, and Eskel didn't miss the way they looked at Esmeray and then scrunch up their nose at him.

'Not bad,' Eskel gave a compliment once they were through the gate and into the bustling city. 'Use any sort of glamours to charm them?'

'Only on my hair, love. Every sorceress has their defining feature about them in which they accentuate. For some, it's their eyes, in which they use eye shadow makeup. For others, it's their bodies, that they reveal in form-fitting attire. For me, it's my hair, which I keep long and straight and only enhances it with dyes every once in a while to keep that red you love so much. The sun, unfortunately, likes to bleach my hair blonde in the summers.'

'So explain to me what exactly this banquet at Aretuza is about again?' Eskel and Esmeray were now walking side by side, leading their horses behind them by the reins.

'It's like any other banquet. We're just supposed to show up, dress nice, and pretend like we're enjoying ourselves. It's something we sorcerers do at least once every year to show no ill will, even though half of them are plotting in some way against each other- ugh! And I used to actually enjoy going!'

Eskel smiled at this, finding it just a bit amusing.

'Right, so we'll go, stand around and be uncomfortable, drink watered-down wine, and eat very little in order to be "polite" or some shit; is that right?'

'Precisely,' Esmeray nodded with a grin of her own, 'and then we'll go back to our hotel room and have sex.'

Eskel immediately perked up at this.

'And remember, Eskel, meet me at the Narrat Inn by noon. We'll have lunch together there and then prepare for the banquet.'

Eskel understood the importance of this banquet and why Esmeray was stressing it so to him- but even still, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at her. She was treating him like a child! But he, nonetheless, also nodded in understanding before exiting the tailor's store they had stopped in to make arrangements for their outfitting.

Once out of the store, Eskel was once more thrown into the throng of the city; carts rumbled past, people walked in groups, and horses and oxen trodden up and down the busy lanes. Eskel had time to himself now, at least a few hours, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what he wanted to do. It had been so long since he'd last been in a city- and even then he couldn't think of anything to really do besides buy stuff and eat.

The dark-haired witcher turned down a street and then turned down another before taking a right and a left. At this point, he was just wandering aimlessly between merchant stalls, barrels, and weirdos selling goods right out of their parked cars. It was only after passing another 4 stalls did the little shop catch his eye.

It sat across the lane from him and in between two other buildings sporting the name "Frank's Chocolate's and Baked Goods," and that was all Eskel needed to see before entering.

Margarita Laux-Antille, otherwise known as "Rita," was a shapely fair-skinned woman with wild blonde curls and deep green eyes- which she usually executed by wearing green- who emerged entirely nude from the hot pool of water provided by the Inn in the bathhouse section. Ciri sat near the edge of said pool, only her legs submerged in the waters as she focused her gaze down shyly at her lap; clutching a small towel to her body. Behind Ciri, lounging across a couple of chairs were Esmeray and Yennefer.

Yennefer of Vengerberg, like what the poets described, was a beautiful woman with an ugly attitude. Yennefer was unique to most, however, because of her violet-colored eyes and long inky black hair that she often wore in curls to flow across her black clothing.

'You, girl,' Margarita called to Ciri, 'be so good as to hand me a towel. And please stop being angry with me.'

Ciri snorted but still did as she was told. After a day of dragging Eskel around to find him a proper tailor to outfit him, Esmeray had made plans to meet up with him later in the day while she met up with sorceress Margarita, Tissaia de Vries [who was a much older sorceress with neat dark brown hair that she always wore pulled back], along with Yennefer and [much to Esmeray's surprise] Ciri. Apparently, Yennefer and Ciri had been traveling with each other for some time now after Geralt sent Ciri off to the Temple of Melitele for education.

'She seems like a young seal,' Margarita jokes, drying herself off. 'And is as shapely as a naiud. Will you give her to me, Yenna?'

'That's why I brought her here,' Yennefer answered.

'Which class shall I put her in? Does she know the basics?'

'She does, but she can start at the beginning like everyone else. It won't do her any harm.'

'That would be wise,' Tissaia added. 'That would be wise indeed, Yennefer. The girl will find it easier if she begins with the other novices.'

It was then that another voice interrupted the group:

'My humble apologies, noble ladies,' it was the innkeeper calling from behind a silk screen. 'Please forgive my daring to disturb, but a certain 'Witcher Eskel '' has arrived for Madame Esmeray.'

'Very well, then,' Esmeray took a stand from her spot. 'Ladies, shall I see you later this evening?'

'Looking forward to it.'

'Yes, of course.'

'Until then, Esmeray.'

Ciri was the only one who didn't say anything, but she did look up as Esmeray passed and the red-headed sorceress threw her a sympathetic smile. Going to school at Artuza will most certainly not be easy on Ciri, especially considering her fiery personality, but with a teacher as kind as Margarita, Esmeray had hoped that she would do well.

“I have nothing against witchers. Let them hunt vampires. As long as they pay taxes.”

—Radovid lll the bold, King of Redania

The sky grew dark rather quickly after Esmeray and Eskel had returned to their privately rented room within the tavern. Esmeray stood clothed in nothing but a see-through black robe overlooking the large windows. From where she currently stood, she could see the Tower of Aretuza set in the ocean miles away.

It looks awfully menacing with the black clouds and dark angry wasters around it.

They had about 3 hours to waste before they needed to attend the banquet.

Esmeray turned to the face of the snoring witcher and chuckled softly at the sight of him all curled up and tuckered out after the festivities together. Eskel was always a bit of a cuddler, this fact was doubled after sex- it was a miracle Esmeray even managed to crawl out of the bed without him locking her in an iron grip.

A small shiver of excitement ran along the sorceress's spine as she recounted him just an hour before; gripping and squeezing her ass as he drove himself into her- and oh gods how he felt inside of her! The witcher could make her cum for hours on end, the mere memory just makes her wanna bind his wrists to the bedframe and ride him all night.

Before meeting Eskel, sex had mattered very little to the sorceress. She had had her fun and even been involved in a couple of scandalous relationships- mainly one being the one she had with Philippa Eilheart- but sex was never a priority for the woman. It still wasn’t, but Eskel always managed to ignite a primal flare within her that she just couldn’t help but dance to.

Eskel wasn’t a particularly kinky person, per se, he mostly enjoyed positions in which he could see her face. But it was the endurance of the act of sex that Esmeray most enjoyed when doing it with Eskel.

From the moment the two began fucking, he never once treated her as something replaceable.

Esmeray was startled when one of the witcher’s yellow cat-like eye’s popped open to stare at her. She jumped at the sight of- just how long had she been staring at him?

Eskel’s scared lips curved up into a smile as he let out a breathy laugh- half-muffled by the pillow his face was buried into.

‘Are you just going to keep watching me or are you going to come over here and join me?’

Esmeray shot her lover a cheeky look before silently making her way toward the bed all the while allowing her thin robe to slide off of her slender body. Eskel let out a sigh at the sight of her pale freckled chest and rolled over so that he was watching her on his back. In doing so the blanket slipped down to just above his groin.

‘Do you witchers ever truly tire from sex?’ Esmeray said as she eyed the growing tent Eskel’s cock was creating with the sheets.

‘With you, darling, never.’ Eskel shot her a wink as his smile widened.

‘We’ll see about that,’ Esmeray muttered before laying her naked body halfway across his own- positioning her upper body to meet with his middle before pulling down the blanket and giving his cock access to spring fully to life.

Esmeray’s delicate lips made contact with Eskel’s ball’s in a nipping kiss, causing the Witcher’s hips to twitch up, but once the woman rapped her fingers around his length- Eskel couldn’t help but throw his head back onto the pillows.

Typically, Eskel much preferred being on the giving end rather than the receiving one- but over the years of being with Esmeray, despite their long break-up, he had learned very quickly that it was better to let her have her way with him first before she allowed him to have his.

So, confined to the fate he had agreed upon, the witcher allowed himself to lean back and watch his partner do some dirty work- only taking control of the situation once he got fed up with her constant teasing… Which wasn’t long after.

Not in any sort of forceful way, Eskel gripped the back of Esmeray’s head by wrapping his fist up with the tail of her long braid and guiding her movement down on his perked cock. Esmeray didn’t fight the change in power and allowed the witcher to sheath himself in her mouth before pulling her back up slightly by her hair before the process recycled once more.

Oral wasn’t Esmeray’s strong suit, she was willing to admit- her gag reflex was all too sensitive, but she managed to cope by gripping Eskel’s slightly hairy thighs as he stretched her throat- and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little aroused by the pull of her hair.

The moment only lasted for so long, however, as Eskel pulled her up and completely off his cock and pushed her down onto the bed before guiding his length to her awaiting core. Now, this was his favorite part.

Then the soothsayer spoke thus to the witcher: ‘This counsel I shall give you: don hobnailed boots and take an iron staff. Walk in your hobnailed boots to the end of the world, tap the road in front of you with the staff and let your tears fall. Go through fire and water, do not stop, do not look back. And when your boots are worn out, when your iron staff is worn down, when the wind and the sun have dried your eyes such that not a single tear will fall from them, then you will find what you are searching for, what you love, at the end of the world. Perhaps!

And the witcher walked through fire and water, never looking back. But he took neither hobnailed boots nor a staff. He took only his witcher's swords. He obeyed not the words of the soothsayer. And rightly so, for she was wicked.

—Florence Delannoy, Tales and Legends

Eskel had nearly forgotten about what it was like going to a banquet with Esmeray, and just how truly miserable it all really was.

The servants never put out enough wine, it seemed, for Eskel to ever get truly drunk on- and whatever wine they did have was always watered down, as well as the food being small bite-sized pieces of bread or crackers with some sort of meat or cheese on top. So even if he wanted to, Eskel could never really pig out.

There also never seem to be enough chairs about for everyone to have a seat. On the other hand, there never seemed to be a shortage of stares.

Still, Eskel had agreed to attend this night with Esmeray, and he wasn’t about to back out of his promise now- even if the velvet red doublet he wore made him sweat his balls off and the ruffled white collar was itchy.

Esmeray, naturally, was the one to pick out their garments for the evening- but it was ultimately Eskel’s own fault for what he currently wore as he had complained that the original doublet she had tried to get him to wear made him look like a Nilfgaardian, so they had settled on the frilly red one.

Esmeray also wore red though her gown lacked the dramatic flair that Eskel’s doublet held.

Aretuza was like a palace with its huge central hall and ‘T’ shaped structure- it was a wonder that he and Esmeray weren’t staying overnight in this place. But maybe that was the point in all this; to pop in and say hello before disappearing altogether.

The longest side of the central hall, one that he and Esmeray found themselves walking through with their arms linked, had extremely tall and narrow windows reaching almost to the ceiling. The ceiling of the entire place was also far too high for Eskel’s liking and more often than not Esmeray would gently slap his chest to make him look forward again.

It wasn’t until Eskel caught the familiar sight of Geralt and a woman he could only assume to be Yennefer did he actually start paying attention to anything.

The couple was currently engaging in a conversation with a couple of other sorceresses- one of which Eskel recognized to be Sabrina Glevissig. Her hair hadn’t changed, or her pin-striped style from when he’d last seen her.

‘Esmeray! Oh, darling! It has been ages!’

Eskel cringed at the call of Sabrina but compliantly followed his mistress over to the group.

At least Geralt was there.

The enchantresses all began embracing one another and kissing one another by the ear on either side of the head before immediately indulging in conversation.

‘I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you again, Esmeray, especially after that whole ordeal at Kear Morhen,’ Sabrina stated- obviously referring to the situation with Eskel’s “child surprise.”

He tried not to think about that. He knew sorceresses could read his mind and he had no doubt that’s what they were doing- but he didn’t want to think about what happened or remember the events of the day. The day he was betrayed and horribly mutilated. So instead he thought about Esmeray, and all the dirty things she had done to him just before attending this banquet.

He remembered the way she looked with his cock stuffed in her mouth and how he controlled the pacing and rhythm by pulling on her braid. And he thought about all the things he wanted to do to her right now and what he planned to do when they left the banquet.

As these thoughts and memories bounced around in his mind- he thought he caught sight of Sabrina Glevissig’s cheeks reddening.

A bubble of nervousness and anxiety began to build and well up within the pit of Esmeray’s stomach once she spotted Philippa Eilhart, and this nervousness nearly ruptured into a fart once the dark-haired sorceress had begun to approach.

She knew that she would be here and sooner or later they’d have to speak with one another- still, Esmeray felt that this moment came all too quickly.

Esmeray had left Eskel’s side to meet Philippa halfway- but the witcher hardly noticed a thing as he was soon accompanied by Dijkstra [a Redanian spy] and once more, Geralt.

‘How lovely to see you, my dear,’ Philippa greeted with a kiss on the corner of Esmeray’s mouth. Esmeray returned the kiss. ‘I see my dear Dijkstra is already making merry with your date- and oh! What an interesting date he is. Sabrina was all too eager to tell me all about her encounter with you and him up at Kaer Morhen some years ago.’

‘Sabrina is a fucking cod-headed bitch. Besides, have you seen what she’s wearing? Pin-stripes have gone out of fashion ages ago!’ Philippa let out a laugh at Esmeray’s remark. A genuine laugh. ‘But I am glad to see you again, Phil. Truly. The way we left things…’

‘Hush now, my dear. It’s a joy for me to see you again too. Let’s leave it at that and enjoy the evening.’

Philippa wasn’t the only familiar face that Esmeray had run into that night. Besides Yennefer of Sabrina, Esmeray had a chat with Triss and then later on with Francesca Findabair and Keira Metz, as well as with Ida Emean acp Sirrey.

Ida and Francesca were elven sorceresses and therefore didn’t hold as much of an interest in human politics as Keira Metz did- but it was enlightening nonetheless to speak to them.

When the evening had begun to wade and Esmeray found Eskel once more bored out of his mind, the sorceress had elected that they leave and retire to the Inn for the evening. Eskel was all too thrilled by this notion.

Eskel tugged Esmeray along with himself as he barged into their shared room rented out at the Inn before shutting the door behind himself loudly.

Inhaling the stale air around him, Eskel could still smell the sex they had left behind for the banquet. It was time to fix that.

Eskel eagerly kissed way up Esmeray’s bosom and to her lips. Hands were on her body before she even knew it.

Esmeray moaned in response to the attention as she reached behind herself to unlace the ribbon holding her dress up.

‘Thank the Gods,’ Eskel sighed as the dress fell away. He trailed his hands down her nude body as she led him backward and onto the bed. When they reached the bed, sloppy kisses were ordered to run down her chest and abdomen.

Eskel’s yellow eyes focused on her dreamily as he lowered his mouth to her core. She hadn’t been wearing underwear, the little mink. Eskel’s mouth drank her in like she was Est Est Tousiant wine, his tongue lapping at her folds eagerly.

Esmeray closed her eyes, leaned back, and moaned loudly while her fingers combed through his hair.

Eskel only pulled back to rid himself of the doublet and unbuckled his trousers before lining himself up with her entrance.

He was careful in rolling his hips into hers, making the beads of sweat glisten in the firelight and roll their way down her small breasts and listening to her sounds of pleasure.

‘I want to hear you, my dear,’ he groaned, pumping himself into her faster. His hips jutted against her with short gaps and grunts.

He was getting sloppy, which meant he was getting close. Esmeray reasoned her fingers up to brush away his bangs. Eskel’s eye’s opened up in silent confusion and shock, but the sorceress simply guided his lips down onto hers.

‘I fear for Ciri,’ Eskel began after an hour of silence the two peacefully shared together not long after sex.

‘Ciri is young, barely a teenager. Her future is undecided just as her pastis is filled with misfortune. But she’s a strong girl, smart too. She’ll be fine whatever comes her way.’

This easied whatever worried Eskel held. Still, he could not help but to doubt Esmeray’s words- the ones in regard to Ciri’s wellbeing, of course.

At the conclave, Herald had gone off and had a conversation with a wizard by the name of Vilgefortz. The two were gone a long time, leaving Eskel at the mercy of Dijkstra; but when Geralt returned from where ever it was the wizard had taken him… he seemed disturbed and wouldn’t answer any of Eskel’s questions.

Eskel couldn’t explain how, but he felt like something was about to happen- and one way or another, it would have something to do with Ciri.

Chapter Text

The sky grew dark rather quickly after Esmeray and Eskel had returned to their privately rented room within the tavern. Esmeray stood clothed in nothing but a see-through black robe overlooking the large windows. From where she currently stood, she could see the Tower of Aretuza set in the ocean miles away.

It looks menacing with the black clouds and dark angry wasters around it.

They had about 3 hours to waste before they needed to attend the banquet.

Esmeray turned to the face of the snoring witcher and chuckled softly at the sight of him all curled up and tuckered out after the festivities together. Eskel was always a bit of a cuddler, this fact was doubled after sex- it was a miracle Esmeray even managed to crawl out of the bed without him locking her in an iron grip.

A small shiver of excitement ran along the sorceress's spine as she recounted him just an hour before; gripping and squeezing her ass as he drove himself into her- and oh gods how he felt inside of her! The witcher could make her cum for hours on end, the mere memory just makes her wanna bind his wrists to the bedframe and ride him all night.

Before meeting Eskel, sex had mattered very little to the sorceress. She had had her fun and even been involved in a couple of scandalous relationships- mainly one being the one she had with Philippa Eilheart- but sex was never a priority for the woman. It still wasn’t, but Eskel always managed to ignite a primal flare within her that she just couldn’t help but dance to.

Eskel wasn’t a particularly kinky person, per se, he mostly enjoyed positions in which he could see her face. But it was the endurance of the act of sex that Esmeray most enjoyed when doing it with Eskel.

From the moment the two began fucking, he never once treated her as something replaceable.

Esmeray was startled when one of the witcher’s yellow cat-like eyes popped open to stare at her. She jumped at the sight of- just how long had she been staring at him?

Eskel’s scared lips curved up into a smile as he let out a breathy laugh- half-muffled by the pillow his face was buried into.

‘Are you just going to keep watching me or are you going to come over here and join me?’

Esmeray shot her lover a cheeky look before silently making her way towards the bed all the while allowing her thin robe to slide off of her slender body. Eskel let out a sigh at the sight of her pale freckled chest and rolled over so that he was watching her on his back. In doing so the blanket slipped down to just above his groin.

‘Do you witchers ever truly tire from sex?’ Esmeray said as she eyed the growing tent Eskel’s cock was creating with the sheets.

‘With you, darling, never.’ Eskel shot her a wink as his smile widened.

‘We’ll see about that,’ Esmeray muttered before laying her naked body halfway across his own- positioning her upper body to meet with his middle before pulling down the blanket and giving his cock access to spring fully to life.

Esmeray’s delicate lips made contact with Eskel’s balls in a nipping kiss, causing the Witcher’s hips to twitch up, but once the woman rapped her fingers around his length- Eskel couldn’t help but throw his head back onto the pillows.

Typically, Eskel much preferred being on the giving end rather than the receiving one- but over the years of being with Esmeray, despite their long break-up, he had learned very quickly that it was better to let her have her way with him first before she allowed him to have his.

So, confined to the fate he had agreed upon, the witcher allowed himself to lean back and watch his partner do some dirty work- only taking control of the situation once he got fed up with her constant teasing… Which wasn’t long after.

Not in any sort of forceful way, Eskel gripped the back of Esmeray’s head by wrapping his fist up with the tail of her long braid and guiding her movement down on his perked cock. Esmeray didn’t fight the change in power and allowed the witcher to sheath himself in her mouth before pulling her back up slightly by her hair before the process recycled once more.

Oral wasn’t Esmeray’s strong suit, she was willing to admit- her gag reflex was all too sensitive, but she managed to cope by gripping Eskel’s slightly hairy thighs as he stretched her throat- and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little aroused by the pull of her hair.

The moment only lasted for so long, however, as Eskel pulled her up and completely off his cock and pushed her down onto the bed before guiding his length to her awaiting core. Now, this was his favorite part.