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"Finally! What took you so long?" Yennefer asked without interrupting her regular evening skincare routine. "I was starting to worry you'd vanished like back in Vengerberg." She couldn't resist a biting remark.
"Yen, we agreed not to bring that up anymore," Geralt said quietly. The Witcher was all too aware of how much it had angered her years ago. Yennefer hadn't forgotten because she never forgets such things, and she'd thrown it in his face in that cursed letter. He sank heavily onto the bed, watching her brushing her thick raven hair.
"True, we agreed, but that's not the same as a promise, is it?"
Her comment brought a slight smile to his face. "Alright, in that case, promise me you won't use it against me ever again."
"Forget it!" she replied playfully and used magic to warm the water in the tub. "Take a bath. You stink. And stop sighing!" With those words, she finally looked at him. Her pupils dilated as she saw how battered Geralt was. "What have you been up to?" She jumped from the nightstand and approached closer. "Geralt, your willingness to help for a few coins is admirable but sometimes rather impractical." She shook her head as she assessed the extent of the injuries and helped him out of his jacket. "Hmmmm, a bump, several lacerations, scraped hands and face." The Witcher smiled as her fingertips gently touched his face.
"Does this hurt?" Yennefer asked, examining his ribs.
A soft chuckle filled the room. "It tickles."
"That's not what I asked. I'm still waiting for answers, by the way."
"It doesn't hurt," he replied, deliberately ignoring the question about what had happened.
"And what's this?" the sorceress asked sharply when she noticed the bite mark on his hand. "Don't gawk and stop sulking. And get into that tub so I can take care of your wounds."
Geralt didn't attempt to protest; he knew it would be futile, and sulking would only lead to one thing – confrontation. A confrontation he couldn't win. Water splashed, some spilt on the floor, and when Geralt submerged himself in hot water, he let out a blissful sigh.
The sorceress sat down nearby with a wooden case containing several glass vials, from which she chose the one labelled hydrogenium peroxydatum on a paper tag. "I'm waiting!"
"A squirrel bit me," he mumbled, looking anywhere but into those stern violet eyes.
"What did you say?" The sorceress heard perfectly well, but it would have been a shame to let such an opportunity slip through her fingers.
"Uh, a squirrel," he cleared his throat, staring blankly ahead and splashing his fingers in the water. "What did you do?"
Yennefer discreetly watched as the witcher squirmed, attempting to change the subject. Were it not for his mutations, he might be blushing right now. The great White Wolf bitten by a squirrel – who would have expected that?
"I lolled around and read 'In the Name of the Orchid' in bed," she replied with a knowing smile. "Then I went for a walk and took a long, hot bath. Just mundane things, you know," she added playfully, "nothing adventurous like, I don't know, hunting aggressive squirrels, for example."
"But she was huge! She wasn't just some regular squirrel," Geralt protested vehemently.
"Ah, so a giant squirrel, huh?"
"Yen."
"Yes, Geralt?"
The witcher sighed and gave up any attempt at explaining. He knew how futile it was and how absurd it all sounded. "Never mind."
"Come on," Yennefer grinned and splashed water into his face. "Stop sulking. You're old enough to know that it won't help your case. Give me that hand before it gets infected."
"It's nothing," he protested, but he didn't resist the sorceress's touch. "Mutations-"
"Mutations will help with healing, but that's about it. Oversized squirrels don't typically hop around the forest just like that. You should know that. Magic might have been involved. And believe it or not, it would be a shame if you lost that hand." Her violet eyes sparkled, and her lips curved into a slightly mischievous and naughty smile. "How did it even happen? You were stealing her nuts, or what?"
"Something like that," Geralt replied, amused, grinning.
"Something like that?"
He nodded and began explaining the situation. "I met Dandelion in town."
"Let me guess. He needed your help. He got himself into something he shouldn't have and with someone he shouldn't have. Someone who shouldn't have known about it found out and threatened Dandelion that they'd break all his limbs if he didn't stop."
Geralt couldn't help but smile when he heard the strangely familiar words. For a moment, he wondered who had a bigger influence on whom, whether he on her or she on him. "Something like that."
"Something like that?"
The Witcher grinned and nodded.
"Then spit it out already!" she splashed water in his face again.
"Alright, I went into town, and..."
Geralt went downstairs to the shop and adjusted his new black leather jacket made from cowhide. Only one more errand remained before he could return to the cozy and heated cottage with Yennefer. However, destiny had other plans.
"Dandelion?" the witcher raised an eyebrow when he spotted a man in a dark crimson coat and a familiar hat adorned with a peacock feather haggling over the price of leather boots at the market. It seemed that the poet and the merchant had completely opposing views on what was currently in fashion.
"Geralt, it's as if heaven itself sent you to me!" the poet exclaimed enthusiastically, embracing his friend tightly. "Why didn't you tell me you were in town? Haven't you seen all those posters? It must be your Yennefer, huh? She must be the one—"
"Dandelion," Geralt cut off the poet's litany about the sorceress right from the start. He had heard enough of that during his lifetime and was currently not in the mood for it. "Yennefer and I are out of town. We want some privacy, and we'd like people to leave us alone. I'm just here quickly for some supplies, and Yen wants a little time for herself."
"Great, so you can spare me some of your time," Dandelion replied.
The witcher groaned, fearing what kind of trouble the poet had gotten himself into this time and what he would want from him.
"I've got a bit of a problem," Dandelion began.
"Let me guess. You went where you shouldn't have gone. You did something you shouldn't have done. With someone you shouldn't have been with. But then someone – who shouldn't have found out – found out and threatened to beat you up like a dog if you ever go near his wife again."
The witcher's words genuinely amused the poet. "You're barking up the wrong tree, Geralt. I've got a completely different problem. There's this charming lady, beautiful and well-endowed, if you catch my drift." Unfortunately, Geralt caught his drift all too well. "With silky hair like velvet, lips as red as cherries, and sky-blue eyes that could rival Essi's," he said dreamily. "And that butt, Geralt! It practically begs for a pinch."
"Cut to the chase, Dandelion!"
"Yennefer keeps you on a short leash."
"Dandelion!"
"Alright, alright! Here's the thing, Mariana lost her necklace with a big ruby that her grandmother gave her. And I promised her that I'd find it to win her affections. You know that I can't leave a poor lady in distress."
Geralt (unfortunately) knew all too well. "And what do you want from me?" he asked with folded arms. "Robbery isn't exactly my expertise. Hire a guard or a private investigator, for all I care."
"If you'd let me finish, you'd know it wasn't just an ordinary thief. According to Mariana, it was some creature."
"A creature?"
"Drop the incredulous look!" Dandelion frowned.
"Sorry, but other than magpies, I don't know any animals that steal jewellery. Maybe Mariana was half asleep? You wouldn't believe how many times people have told me they had a ghost in their garden, and it turned out to be a plain scarecrow in the cabbage patch. Moonlight and shadows, combined with homemade booze, work wonders."
"Cut it out! Mariana isn't some uneducated country bumpkin with a still in her backyard. Moreover, she's not the only one describing the thief this way."
Geralt raised an eyebrow, and his interest grew. "There have been other thefts?"
"Exactly! Let's go somewhere warm, and I'll tell you what I've found out."
***
"...see? What I told you?" The bard finished his explanation of the findings he had gathered over the past two days. It should be noted that Dandelion's explanation was somewhat lengthy, full of irrelevant (and almost certainly fabricated) details and wild conclusions. Geralt had known Dandelion for a long time and all too well to know how much he could make up. "Will you help me, Geralt?" he asked, finishing the last sip of Redanian beer. "I may not have the money to pay you, but I promise never to say anything about Yennefer ever again. What do you say?" Geralt remained silent, but after a few moments, he grumbled. A broad smile spread across the bard's face when he heard the witcher's sigh, accompanied by a light face rub. "Great! Come on, let's search the crime scene."
Geralt got up from the table, finished the last drop of Kaedwenian beer, and cleaned his jacket from bread crumbs, which had clung to it from the venison goulash.
***
"Have you ever thought about using your Witcher senses as a private investigator, for instance? It would certainly be safer and more profitable than hunting monsters," Dandelion shared his thought processes and leaned against the wooden and rather shabby fence of a garden near the house where the last theft had occurred.
Geralt didn't respond and continued searching for clues that would help him identify what he was dealing with and where the animal thief might have gone.
"I think I'll write a ballad about it! What do you think, Geralt?"
"Hmmm," Geralt grunted, not really expecting the poet to provide an answer.
"Poor woman, plagued by a wicked, dangerous, and fierce beast," Dandelion began to spin his tale, "fortunately, there's a brave bard in a fashionable coat and his faithful companion..."
"Don't forget to mention that said companion has an absolutely terrible taste not only in women but also in fashion," Geralt interrupted the poet's musings and straightened up.
"Is that still bothering you? I apologize, but a little colour wouldn't hurt your outfit."
"It's not about fashion, Dandelion, but practicality. Dark colours are simply more suitable than pastels when you're out hunting monsters. Besides, Yen says black adds to my esteem," he proudly proclaimed, subtly showcasing his tailor-made leather jacket. He wouldn't admit it, but in a way, he couldn't wait for Yennefer to see him in it. He hoped she would like it and appreciate his effort in taking some of her words to heart.
"As if she knows something about fashion. Her, who only wears black and white."
The witcher frowned and decided to change the subject. "It seems it really was some kind of creature, which is fast, can jump high, and climb almost any surface thanks to its curved claws. The tracks are strange, though. They're not the usual prints, like those of a cat or a dog. See here? A quartet of prints side by side – rear, front, front, rear."
Dandelion rubbed his chin, pretending to know exactly what was being discussed.
"It means it moves by jumping. I've also seen a few reddish hairs. I think with the tracks, scent, and fur, we should be able to find this thief. It also appears to have a certain operational radius, considering where all the thefts occurred," Geralt summarized his findings, and together with Dandelion, he set off on the trail of the animal thief.
***
The tracks led the pair into a nearby forest outside of the town. The poet didn't shut up for a moment during the entire journey. For some reason, he had an insatiable need to share all his ideas and theories, regardless of how crazy or foolish they might be.
"What if it's an enchanted princess?" Dandelion mused.
Geralt rolled his eyes and wisely chose to remain silent.
"Well, think about it! Isn't it strange for some creature to rob people of their jewellery?"
"Maybe it's been trained to do so," Geralt casually remarked as they walked along an overgrown forest path.
"What if it's like that... with that... with that," the bard snapped his fingers as if the gesture might help him remember. "With that old lady in Toussaint. The one who collected spoons to break the curse," he continued without acknowledging Geralt's comment.
"I don't know how many times I have to say this. Curses are rare, complicated, and often very powerful. So even if it happened to be some curse, we wouldn't know a damn thing about it."
"You're no romantic at all, Geralt!"
"I'm a pragmatist and a realist. Not everyone can have their head in the clouds. Some of us have to keep our feet firmly on the ground."
"Is this from Yennefer?" Dandelion scrutinized his friend when he detected a hint of condescension in his voice. "Not everyone can have their head in the clouds," he mimicked Yennefer's diction.
Geralt scowled and didn't comment on it.
"I could have guessed. Look, I get it. Sometimes I'm tempted to hop into bed with some bossy woman too, but Yennefer–"
"Dandelion."
"Just admit it already. Everyone says that-"
"Dandelion, shut up!"
"Excuse you!"
"Quiet! I need to concentrate, which is hard to do when you keep babbling," Geralt cut off the poet's rambling.
Dandelion obediently fell silent, perked up his ears, and let Geralt focus on his work. However, it didn't last long. "Are you sure it's a good idea to veer off the path and trudge through the underbrush?" he asked, following Geralt deeper into the forest.
The witcher crouched down to examine the tracks near the thicket and a nearby tree. "You can stay on the path," he replied calmly, sniffing the air. "Although we're already here." With those words, he stood up, inspected the distinct scratches on the pine tree's trunk, and looked up.
"What do you mean, 'we're here'?" Dandelion asked in confusion.
„Up there."
The poet followed the witcher's pointing finger. "Up there? Like in a tree?"
"I assume there's a nest or a hollow in the trunk."
"How will you get up there?"
"Me? You're the one eager to win Mariana's affections."
"But who knows what's up there? What if it bites my fingers off? I can't afford to lose my fingers! How would I play the lute then? And what if I fall and kill myself? You know what a loss it would be to lose such a talent as I am."
"If I climb up and bring you that damned necklace, will you shut up?" the witcher cut off their debate, which would have inevitably ended with him climbing up instead of Dandelion. At least this way, he saved them both some time.
"Yeah. And I'll stop bad-mouthing Yen," the poet blurted out hastily.
Geralt didn't reply and started climbing, occasionally scraping his chest and arms against the tree's bark. I hope I don't tear my shirt. A few pulls and branches later, he found what he was looking for. "Got it!" he shouted to Dandelion when he discovered a relatively large hollow filled with all sorts of trinkets, baubles, and jewellery. It seems that our animal friend suffers from a minor case of kleptomania.
"Look for a big red ruby on a gold chain!"
"Ouch!" Geralt cried out when something bit his hand inside the hollow. "Damn it!" Without his superhuman reflexes, he would have fallen to the ground empty-handed. As it was, he only scraped his palms and his left cheek against the tree trunk when gravity pulled him down, and he clung tightly to it.
"Geralt! Are you okay? What happened? Talk to me!" The poet's concern for his friend was evident in his words.
"Watch out!" the witcher shouted just before his hands gave way.
But Dandelion's human reflexes were as quick as any mortal's, and before he could say Mariana, he found himself flat on the ground. Dandelion groaned and looked ahead. When he spotted a large red ruby with a golden chain lying in the moss, his eyes lit up. "You found it!" he exclaimed, struggling beneath the witcher's body. "You found it!" However, Dandelion's joy was short-lived. First, there was a dull sound, then a rustling in a nearby bush, and finally, some small footsteps.
"Are you okay?" the witcher managed to ask as he tried to get off his friend.
"Squirrel!" Dandelion exclaimed when two large, furry, reddish legs and a fuzzy belly appeared before him. "It's a damn oversized squirrel, Geralt!"
"What?" the witcher uttered, bewildered, as he finally managed to rise to all fours.
"Come here, you little bastard!" Dandelion yelled angrily when he saw the oversized rodent take back its stolen jewel and hop away.
"Dandelion, no!" Geralt's cry was in vain as the poet recklessly began to chase the thieving creature. "Oh, no!" he moaned when he saw his torn shirt sleeve. As if that weren't enough, his brand-new, tailor-made leather jacket, which had rubbed against the tree trunk when he had clung to it for dear life just moments ago, had also suffered. "Dandelion!" he shouted into the woods, wiping the blood from his face. Why do I always get tangled up in the most absurd situations with you? And now I have to look for you. He sighed and, limping, followed the poet's trail. All I wanted was to buy supplies and return to Yennefer! Instead, I'm running through the forest and trying to catch an oversized squirrel with kleptomania.
It didn't take long before he found the poet.
"Here you are," Geralt said with a sigh, realizing that this nightmare wasn't over yet.
The poet turned to the witcher, grabbing his head before he could say anything. "OUCH! Did you see that?! She threw a pinecone at me! A pinecone, Geralt!" he exclaimed and was about to begin his climbing ascent into the tree crown. The squirrel's attack called for revenge! Such affronts were unworthy of someone of his stature. "Help me up!"
"What?"
"Help me up!" Dandelion didn't give up, trying to climb the tree, although he had significant trouble reaching even the lowest branches.
„You can't be serious."
"Geralt, please!"
The witcher sighed once more and reluctantly lifted his friend. "I won't catch you when you fall."
"Hush, down there!"
Geralt leaned against the tree trunk and calmly examined the damage to his clothing while the poet climbed to confront the thieving squirrel. Oh well! What a shame. It could have lasted longer for the money...
"Come here, you little...!"
Maybe Yen could mend it...?
"Don't you dare!"
She has one handy spell after all.
"OUCH!"
Perhaps she could mend the jacket also. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud crack above his head. "Dandelion?" He stepped away from the tree to see what was happening up there. The witcher's eyes widened when he saw the poet clinging to a dangerously bending branch.
"Shh!" Dandelion whispered, his eyes locked on the squirrel, which was returning his intense gaze. "No, no, stay!" The squirrel hopped toward him. Once. Twice. Thrice. It paused for a moment, scratched its nose, and then threw a pinecone growing right next to it. "OUCH!" The projectile hit its mark right between the eyes. Dandelion looked at the rodent and frowned. "That squirrel is mocking me, Geralt!" He would swear the squirrel had smirked at him just before the attack. "No, no!" He panicked as the squirrel narrowed its eyes, as if his words had touched it. It jumped forward. Once. Twice. Thrice. It stopped, scratched its rear end, placed its front paws on the cracking branch and pushed.
Crack!
The branch couldn't take it anymore.
Thud!
"OUCH!"
"Dandelion!" Geralt hurried over to help the poet. "So, did you get the necklace?" he smiled when he saw his friend was okay...
"…and then we parted ways," Geralt finished his tale and sat down on the bed.
"So much effort and you came back empty-handed," Yennefer struggled to stifle her laughter.
"Yen," he cleared his throat, "could we not talk about it? Like, ever again?"
"Of course!" she replied with a mischievous grin. "We can't let the reputation of the renowned bard Dandelion and Geralt of Rivia, the great White Wolf, suffer because of a squirrel."
Why did I even try?
Yennefer smiled as she heard his mental sigh. "Next time you see Dandelion, tell him I'd like to have a word with him," she said, turning and approaching the bed. "I'm really curious about who are those people who speak so knowingly about me and our relationship. And now, show me your face." She sat down and leaned closer to clean his wound. She could have used magic, but why do that when she could touch Geralt like this and examine him closely.
"In that case, you'll never see him again," he joked and gazed at her. Once again, he noticed the subtle imperfections, just like when they had first met. A nose slightly too long. Lips somewhat narrow. Eyebrows slightly irregular. But her eyes... He was intoxicated by the scent of lilac and gooseberries.
"A win for all of us," she smiled and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "What are you thinking, Witcher?"
"Nothing," he lied and shook his head.
She chuckled softly. She knew all too well what he was thinking about. "I remember all too well how you "discreetly" observed me that time, trying to mask it. You weren't very good at it," she said, looking him directly in his eyes. "Don't think I don't know how you watched the soap bubbles to make sure you didn't miss anything."
"Reading my mind again?"
"Always," she said amusedly and tossed the rag on the ground. "You should know that by now."
"Hmmmm."
"Don't sulk!" She poked his forehead and sat on his lap, her arms around his shoulders. "If it pleases you to know, I like what I see."
Geralt's tension instantly disappeared, replaced by a small smile. "Much more interesting than the bath, though, was your choice of attire. Especially the stockings and chemise. I didn't have to imagine much there." He reminisced about their first encounter. "You were examining me then," he said, kissing her neck. "Something for something."
"And you're surprised? A witcher, and especially the famous Geralt of Rivia himself, doesn't show up in your room every day." She smiled as she felt his hand on her thigh and playfully slapped it. "My oh my, the wolf has big eyes," she said with a seductive tone and pushed him onto the bed. "I hope you intend to turn what's on your mind into reality!"
"Hmm... We'll see!"