The fire had burned down to little more than embers, casting the small room in a low amber light that barely reached the corners. The furs were tangled half off the bed, one corner dragging on the stone floor, and the air still carried the warmth of two bodies and the faint, salt-sweet smell of sweat. Ciri lay curled against him with her cheek on his shoulder, one arm draped across his chest, her ashen hair spread in a wild mess over both of them and the pillow beneath. Seb's hand rested on her back, moving slowly, aimlessly, tracing the long line of her spine from shoulder to hip and back again without any real thought behind it.
Neither of them spoke for a while. The keep creaked around them the way it always did at night, old timbers settling, the wind finding its way through gaps it had been finding its way through for a hundred years.
"Gods," Ciri said eventually, her voice muffled against his skin. "I've missed us."
Seb's hand paused, then resumed its slow circuit. "I didn't know you wanted this so badly. We could have found time to do it in Tir Na Lia."
Ciri laughed, a real laugh, low and warm, her shoulders shaking against him. "Yes. While Eredin and his riders were knocking on the door in some room within that royal palace." She tilted her head up just enough to look at him, one eyebrow arched. "Would have been a sight to see. The two of us going at it while the Wild Hunt tears the palace apart around us."
"I'd have made it work."
"I'm sure you would have." She settled back down. "You always think you can make anything work."
"Usually I can."
The embers popped once. Ciri's fingers traced a slow circle on his chest.
"You said Avallac'h suggested that you and the king would breed. Didn't you."
Ciri went still for half a second. "Yes."
"He made that outrageous suggestion, yes." Her tone was flat now, not angry at Seb, but the old anger was still there underneath, "And I even met the king. He made me the same offer. Said that with our combined alliance, we'd prevent the doom of the White Frost. Said our blood together would be the thing that saved both our worlds." She paused. "I believed it for a moment. He's good at that, making it sound noble. Like it was a duty, not a cage." Her jaw worked against his shoulder. "But I know what they want. They don't want me. They want my power, wrapped up in a crown so it looks respectable."
Seb's hand never stopped moving on her back. "The White Frost can't harm me," he said quietly. "And you're the one who can stop it. I'd say the two of us joining together will be a hell of a lot better than anything an old elven king had planned."
Ciri was quiet for a second. Then she huffed a soft laugh into his chest. "Of course. I only ever thought about you." A beat. "Though you mentioned someone else."
Seb's brow furrowed in the dark. "Someone else?"
"When you fought Bonhart. And the higher vampire. You said something about a friend, a she-elf."
"Oh." Seb exhaled. "You mean Lune."
"Lune."
"She's the only survivor of a group of Scoia'tael I saved in Redania, a while back." His voice had gone quieter, more careful. "Last time I saw her was in Mahakam. That's where I learned about Leo Bonhart in the first place. He'd already killed the rest of them. They were decent folk, Ciri. Faelorn, Yarvik.. Yarvik was a dwarf with one hand and more heart than most men I've met. They didn't deserve what happened to them."
Ciri shifted, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him properly. "I'm sorry." Her voice was soft. "And.. I can't help it. I feel guilty about all of this. I'm in the center of everything, always."
Seb turned his head to meet her eyes. "Shit happens regardless," he said. "This world's full of evil, and there are a thousand reasons out there for people to do the kind of things Bonhart does. You're one of them, sure. You're not the only one, and you're not the reason. So don't carry that. It's not yours to carry."
She didn't answer right away.
"I know why you're asking about her, though," Seb added, and his mouth curved slightly. "You think I've got some sort of feelings for her."
Ciri's eyes flicked away and back. "Well. Yes."
Seb laughed. "No. The only thing I feel toward her now is guilt. That I wasn't there when it mattered. That's it." He paused. "But I'll still give her Leo's head, like I promised. That part I meant."
Ciri was silent a moment, then settled back down against him, her arm tightening around his waist. "Okay."
"Though," Seb said, "for the record.. I did step into a few brothels in Novigrad. And I met a few sorceresses in Rivia who made their interest very clear."
"Hey!"
"All true," he said, deadpan. "But I never cared about any of them."
Ciri snorted. "I've got my doubts about them. Not about you."
"Doesn't matter." His hand slid up into her hair, fingers working through the tangles. "I've only ever thought about you."
She smiled against his shoulder, he could feel it.
Then, after a moment, he said, "I noticed something, just now."
"Mm?"
"Your eyes." His voice was thoughtful, not teasing. "They were glowing. Bright green, proper glowing, not just catching the light while we were making love." He paused. "How far along are you with the control? Because for a second there I genuinely thought you were about to teleport us both somewhere very public, and I want to know how much of a risk that was."
Ciri laughed softly. "When I'm here, I'm at ease. You don't have to worry." She shifted, tucking her chin onto his chest. "The training with Avallac'h actually helped. More than I wanted to admit to him at the time, and I'll deny ever saying that if it comes up." A pause. "I can focus on a destination now. Properly. Hold it in my head, feel it, all of it. But I still can't hop between worlds without ending up somewhere I didn't aim for." Her voice flattened a little. "This world, though.. this one, the Continent I think I could put us anywhere on it. Anywhere I've seen, or can picture clearly enough."
Seb considered that. "That's useful."
"It is."
"It's also going to light us up like a bonfire to Eredin."
"I know." She didn't sound concerned. "Does it matter?"
Seb thought about it honestly. "No," he said. "Not really. I want him to come and find us. We've got unfinished business, and it's been unfinished long enough." He stared at the darkened ceiling beams. "I just think he'll come a lot more prepared this time. He'll have learned from Tir Na Lia. He won't make the same mistakes twice."
"Then so be it," Ciri said simply.
Seb turned his head and kissed her hair. "So be it."
.
.
.
Down in the main hall, the hearth had been banked for the night, throwing a dull red-orange glow across the long tables and up the grey stone walls. Vesemir sat at the head of the table with a clay cup in one hand and his feet stretched toward the fire. Geralt sat across from him, a half-empty cup in front of him that he hadn't touched in a while.
The wind came down off the Blue Mountains and pressed against the keep, and the two of them listened to it for a while before either spoke.
"You've seen him fight more than I have," Vesemir said. "The boy."
"I have."
"Then tell me something straight, wolf." Vesemir swirled the cup slowly. "Are we still the ones protecting them? Because from where I'm sitting, it's starting to look less like we're the wall and more like we're the furniture."
Geralt took a drink. "That's about the size of it."
"I'm serious." Vesemir set the cup down. "The two of them Ciri's powers aren't growing in the way I was taught to expect, where a sorceress hits a ceiling and stays under it. And Seb..." He shook his head slowly. "I've trained witchers for longer than most of the men in this keep have been alive. I've never seen anyone improve like that. Not you, not Eskel, not Lambert. Every time new day he swings a sword he's stronger than the last time, and it isn't tapering off. It isn't stopping. Are we really in a position to call ourselves the ones protecting them? They could go anywhere and they'd be fine. You know what I mean, don't you."
Geralt looked into the fire for a long moment.
"Yes," he said. "I know what you mean."
"And?"
"And it doesn't change anything." Geralt turned the cup in his hands. "They don't stay here because they need us. They stay because this is their home, and they want to be the ones standing between us and whatever comes. That's why they're here. I've watched Seb fight the Hunt in Tir Na Lia, and I've watched him fight here, and every time I see him fight he's better than the time before, so you are correct. He'll do a better job protecting her than any of us could, including me." He paused. "That's enough for me. That's all I need."
"That's a lot of faith." Vesemir said.
"I basically raised Ciri, and I'd hand her the whole world." Geralt shrugged. "Besides. He's one of mine as well. So that counts for something."
Vesemir grunted, which from him passed for agreement.
For a while, neither of them said anything. The fire spat and settled. Somewhere upstairs, the old keep groaned as it always did.
"I'm just worried, wolf," Vesemir said at last, quieter. "Not about him, or her. About the enemy we don't know about yet. Bonhart we know. The Hunt we know. But there's always someone else." He turned his cup slowly on the table. "I fear for both of them. That's all. I've buried too many children of this keep already."
Geralt was quiet a moment. Then he said, "As long as they have each other, and us, we can repel anything."
Vesemir looked up at him.
"That's not a strategy," he said.
"No," Geralt agreed. "But it's the one I've got."
/-\
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