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The White Wolf was standing in front of his door with a neutral expression. He wore brown pants and a white shirt, opened wide at the collar, letting some scars peak out. From the other side of the garden, Adri had to admit he looked slightly attractive. She could understand the reputation he had for charming every sorceress that came across him.
He almost looked like Eskel, she thought guiltily, minus the scars.
He didn’t move even as she approached, making too much noise for her size, and even more if one considered that she was a trained assassin. The truth was that she was exhausted. It was a bone deep type of numbness that could only go away after a small feast, a hot bath, and two days spent sleeping.
The White Wolf waiting for her without a single expression on his face told her she wouldn’t get the sleep she so desperately craved.
She stopped walking when he started talking.
“Letho said you would only be gone ten days.”
“It’s hard to keep a tight schedule on the Path.”
“He went mad on day five.”
That got her to freeze, fear seizing her chest, cold and spreading everywhere.
“Is he dead?” she asked, voice holding despite how her hands shook.
“He’s alive,” replied the White Wolf, and she barely heard the rest, pressing her hands to her face as the relief gave her back her breath, “it was a close thing. We were lucky Jaskier was here.”
She didn’t know how or why the bard would help, but as the reality of what had almost happened – what she had feared for the whole time she had been away – crashed into her, she could only keep her face against her palms, and slowly sink to her knees, curling up on herself.
Adri wasn’t a religious person, but she had actually prayed for Letho.
“Music seems to help him,” said The White Wolf, his voice closer than before.
When she looked up, he was standing only a meter away, his face looking almost sympathetic. He had a history with Letho, she knew, and probably one with losing his fellow witchers. Berengar had told her enough of his time being saved by Geralt of Rivia.
It was a relief, to see that his emotions extended to her past anger and hatred.
“Was he drinking?” she asked after a moment of simply looking at him, a million questions thundering in her head.
“He was, but he cut way back since the incident. It’s just Gull now.”
The relief came again, worse than before, and she hid her face in her hands again for a different reason this time. The tears prickling in her eyes were hot and hurt as they fell down, but she knew it was the only way to take out all the worry she had carried. Killing and cutting down enemies and monsters hadn’t helped, and getting amped up on too many potions had only made it worse.
All she could do, was let the tears flow and keep them out of anyone’s sight.
It took too long, she knew, but by the time her face was dry again and she looked back up, Geralt hadn’t moved.
“Alvin and Jask seem to think I’ve been too harsh with you,” he said, making her snort.
“If that’s the word you want to use,” she replied, getting back up to her feet, only slightly stumbling.
He made no move to help her, which she appreciated as she took her pack off her back and let it unceremoniously fall on the grass behind her. The last of her vials had broken a long time ago, and there wasn’t anything fragile in there anymore.
“I…” he stopped, looking down at her bag, then back at her face again. “Maybe we should go inside and sit down for this conversation.”
“I’m fine,” she replied, but already he was walking closer, grabbed her pack and started going to the house in long strides.
Adri would never admit it, but this was also a relief. Seeing him stand there, for a second she had thought that he wouldn’t let her back in again. She would have fought her way in, of course, but fighting another witcher was never a piece of cake, and she was far from being at her best. He would have cut her in pieces in time, but she would have made it hard for him.
She caught sight of her face in the window pane as they entered the kitchen. The shawl was helping with the purple bruise covering most of her face and the way her lips were busted and swollen, but it didn’t hide the black veins around her eyes, nor the black eye she was sporting.
She sat down around the kitchen table when he gestured for her to, and after putting her pack down by her side, he turned and started boiling water. Probably tea, she thought as he went towards the impressive display of spices the cook kept.
“How did you get this place?” she asked.
He didn’t turn to face her, but she watched the way his large shoulders moved in a shrug.
“It’s a very long and complicated story. I helped a friend and they gave it to me, let’s say.”
“That doesn’t sound complicated,” she grumbled, making him chuckle.
What a weird and unexpected sound.
“I can make you a Swallow, but it’ll take a moment,” he said, dumping some spices in the water.
Ginger, and something else she couldn’t name.
“I’m fine,” she lied. He looked over his shoulder, just a quick glance, but didn’t say anything.
Good, she thought. Just because they were getting chummy, it didn’t mean they were suddenly getting all trusty-filly with each other. She wasn’t ready to trust a very tall and scar-faced Wolf Witcher again any time soon.
He finished making the tea, putting down a smokey and too large cup in front of her. Then he stood there, watching her, for a second.
“I can leave, so you can drink. It’ll help. My mother used to make it for me.”
“You remember your mother?”
He shrugged, but his eyes were very attentive as she took away the pin keeping her shawl up against her face, and blew on the tea. It would burn her tongue, she knew, but she still took a tentative sip.
“Hm. Hot.” And delicious, just enough of spices to give a kick. His mother really knew what she was doing.
He sat down when Adri simply looked back up at him without saying anything. She was a sight to see, she knew, but she didn’t care. He was a witcher and wouldn’t be getting all squeazy over a few bruises and cuts. And if he did just because she was a woman… well, it wasn’t like her opinion of him could be worse.
“What did you fight, exactly?”
“A pack of vultures with steel-toed boots.”
He seemed dubious, but didn’t say anything as she went back to blowing on her tea.
“I shouldn’t ask, I know, but did you win?”
That made Adri laugh, which in turn made the entire left side of her head hurt, which she cradled in her hand for a moment. That didn’t help, so she wrapped her hands around the too hot cup instead.
“Of course I won, or I wouldn’t be here.”
“Were those vultures anywhere near?”
His carefully neutral expression cracked for a moment, letting her see through and have a peak at the real danger waiting underneath. It would have usually annoyed her, and she would have taken it the wrong way, she knew, but she was decidedly too tired to care.
“They tracked me down, I dealt with them. No worries.”
His lips twitched at that last word, and he tapped his knuckles on the thick wood of the table, a rapid tack-tack-tack that made her bounce her knee in the same rhythm. Maybe something else had happened while she was gone. Someone might have cursed him, or the water had been poisoned.
“Lots of people worried for you, while you were gone.” He said it like she was supposed to react, but she only tried a new sip, burning the tip of her tongue again. Damn it. “In fact, all of us–” He stopped when she raised an eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes. “Fine, not me, but others.”
“Get to the point.”
“Eskel.”
She sighed and got up, grabbing her pack.
“Thanks for the tea, I’ll be on my–”
“ No, ” he immediately replied, getting up too, raising a hand in her direction. “You have to listen to me, because I’m going to strangle him if you don’t.”
She shrugged. “That might be a net benefit for me, if you did.”
“You know him, he’d come back to haunt us.”
He had a point there, so she sat back down, grabbing the cup once more. The next sip went down easily enough, but her face really hurt like a bitch. Maybe she should have said yes to the Swallow.
“I’ve told him that whatever was going on between the two of you was a bad idea,” started the White Wolf after a moment. That wasn’t a great start, but at least he was honest. “He’s a stubborn man, as you might know, and he doesn’t listen to me often. I’m not…” he stopped to wet his lips, looking away from her as she watched his face very closely.
He did look like Eskel, even from this close. It was a subtle thing, like when siblings were completely different but used the same facial expression. She could tell he was nervous, because she had seen the look on his face before, on another witcher.
“Look, I’m going to be direct: Alvin told me you two made a witcher together.”
She wasn’t certain she liked where this was going.
“I have to ask if you intend to make more.”
“Maybe.”
“Only manticores?”
“That’s the mutagen I have for now.”
He started tapping his knuckles again, and looked at her without a word. He wanted to ask about Leo, she could feel it, but either didn’t have the guts to, or was waiting for her to bring it up. Tough luck for him, she thought as she started drinking more tea.
It helped slightly, in that it was so spicy, it actually brought heat to her cheeks which helped her pretend her face wasn’t pulsing as hard as it did. She thought about taking off her boots and finally laying down, and that sounded so heavenly , she almost got up right then and there to do just that. Alas, the host was sitting with her.
When had she started to care whether she was rude or not?
“Eskel is leaving with Triss,” he said, unexpectedly.
“What?”
“They’re leaving, soon. I don’t have any other information.”
“That’s no information at all. Why are you telling me?”
“They’re going North, and I know you will too.”
“Are you kicking me out?”
A cold smile cut his face.
“There are too many people around, and the moment you, Eskel and Triss were gone, Letho eased up on the booze.”
“I thought they weren’t gone yet.”
“They went to Eskel’s place. I’m not that close to Letho, and I can only imagine how you feel when it comes to what he’s going through, but I truly think leaving him here with Jask and I is the best thing you can do for him.”
Adri’s heart beat painfully hard against her chest as the anger rose, fast as an arrow. She hissed, swallowing down the first few words she wanted to spit at him. How dare you? Who the fuck do you think you are? I’ll kill you right now in this kitchen .
She took her time, swallowing it all down and dumping some tea on top of it, before she trusted herself to ungrit her teeth.
“Are you expecting me to agree to this and not punch you in the face?”
“Gods, no. I was expecting you to flip the table. I just want you to think about it. Observe him. Take your time.”
“And then you want me gone.”
“Once you see that I’m right,” he said, before getting up and leaving.
***
Adri slept like shit. First, because her face hurt too much, but also because Geralt’s words had made her angry enough that it gave her stomach acid. Then, she realized that the bed was too soft and she felt like she was suffocating not sleeping under the sky.
She tried for about an hour, before getting back down in the kitchen to start brewing potion over the hearth. She mulled his words over as she kept an eye on the boiling liquids, waiting for the Swallows to be done. He was probably right. Letho was ashamed enough of what had happened, and Adri had been the one to find him. It wasn’t a sight she would ever forget, and while she had destroyed the evidence of what had happened, she had seen them.
She knew, and she was the only other person alive to. That had to be a problem for him, no matter how hard she wished it wasn’t.
Besides, she had already started hatching a plan to get Gaetan back. So far it consisted of traveling around until she heard about another witcher, which wasn’t much but still better than nothing. She had thought about finding Aiden and asking. She was certain Aiden would be wherever Lambert was, and she had two wolves nearby to ask them about him.
But she hated it. The thought of leaving Letho here for good felt a little too much like abandoning him and throwing in the towel. She didn’t want to risk him thinking that he truly was a lost cause. Not when she believed in his recovery so much.
But then her thoughts looped back to the fact that his recovery was apparently going better when she wasn’t here.
She was still running circles around her mind by the time the Swallows were done, the sun was starting to rise and someone approached the door leading to the garden. She didn’t recognize the sound of the footsteps, and wasn’t surprised when it was the sorceress that came in. Triss, looking disheveled and coming straight from Eskel’s house.
She jumped when she caught sight of Adri, looking almost guilty for a second, before she saluted her with a gentle smile.
“I didn’t know you were…” she stopped to clear her throat, “I mean…”
She never finished her sentence, because a door banged somewhere inside the house, and she looked spooked enough that Adri wondered if she hadn’t been trying to sneak in to kill someone. Then the sorceress ran a hand through her hair, and pulled it over her shoulder to hide the hickey Adri very pointedly raised an eyebrow at.
Triss didn’t blush, but it was clearly a close thing.
Maybe she had been with a field hand, but Adri hadn’t seen any of them live anywhere near. She was coming from outside, so there weren’t a lot of explanation.
It had no right to give her any type of feeling, but she still turned around with a pinch at the heart. She had been with Mattia, since Eskel. Not a lot, but enough times that she had pushed her time with the wolf away. Why wouldn’t he want to do the same thing?
Triss was beautiful, too, it wasn’t something anyone could deny. Adri grabbed a Swallow, quickly downed it, and turned back to face the sorceress. Her head still hurt, and the sorceress was simply standing there with a worried look on her face.
She was also wearing a way too large shirt. Obviously taken from some tall and broad male hanging around.
Adri had never had the occasion to wear any of his clothes, she was pretty sure. He had used his own body to warm her up, and had given her a cloak and a blanket, but never a shirt. She would have looked ridiculous in it anyway, so it didn’t matter much.
If only she could tell that to the little weight in her stomach.
“What happened to your face?” asked Triss after a while longer.
“What happened to your neck?” she replied.
Triss frowned slightly, looked towards the hallway that lead further into the house.
When she spoke, she was whispering like it made a difference in a house full of witchers. “You didn’t see me, alright?”
“You’re right,” she replied with a tiny smile twisting her busted lips. “Didn’t hear anything either. As a matter of fact, I’m turning back to what I’m doing.”
“Thanks,” she replied with a nod.
She made noise walking away, but Adri focused back on the potions she was brewing. She had a stock to rebuild, and it was none of her business what anyone here did with whoever they wanted.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed when the door was banged open again, and as she turned around with a frown to tell off whoever was doing this for the second time, she realized that not only she was way more tired than she had realized, but her face was also very exposed.
Eskel stood there, like the last time they had seen each other in that very kitchen. He said nothing, simply stood there with his hair neatly combed, fresh faced and obviously well-fed. Adri had just come back from almost two months and a half in the desert. She looked and felt like a sun-dried rat, except she also had one half of her face purple.
It shouldn’t have felt awkward, yet it was.
“Your face,” he breathed, concern painting his traits.
She turned back to her batch of potion, even though she hated putting her back to him – it was better than the alternative.
“It’s just a bruise,” she said. Her voice was too tight, and so were her shoulders. She was hyper-aware of the sound of his boots over the floor, how his weight shifted over the wooden planks until he was standing almost directly to her right. “It looks worse than it feels.”
His fingers were light as feathers when he pressed them against her chin and made her turn her face towards him. He was standing there with a frown on his face and his too long hair still falling over his forehead, and when he leaned closer to inspect the swelling of her eye, she couldn’t help a shaky exhale.
He ignored it, gently pressing his thumb over her cheekbone instead, checking for a fracture. She winced and leaned back.
“I’ve already been checked,” she announced, but he didn’t let go, doing the same with her brow bone next.
“It doesn’t hurt to make sure,” he whispered.
He was standing too close, and once he was done his fingers lingered, dragging down the tender skin of the bruise, to stop at her jaw. There, it fell away, his hand cupping the side of her neck instead. She knew what he would do before it happened, and didn’t do anything to stop him.
He used his hand to pull her closer, until she was against his chest and he could wrap an arm around her, holding her close and pressing his nose to the top of her head. He discreetly sniffed, just like he had done that very first time they’d had sex, and she felt his heart thud against her forehead.
Adri wasn’t the kind to throw in the towel, but she didn’t have the strength to fight it or resist, for once. She closed her eyes, and let herself lean against his hard, warm and broad body. It felt good, safe and strong, like nothing could hurt her while she was in his embrace.
It took her a moment, before she wrapped her own arms around his waist, and he sighed into her hair, before his nose moved down the side of her head to find the soft skin underneath her ear. It turned her heart over, but she could only press herself closer, and try not to breathe in too hard.
He smelled as good as ever, felt as good as ever.
She knew she wouldn’t stop him if he tried kissing her, which was why, when he leaned back and looked down into her eyes, she simply stared, breathless.
He ran fingers through her hair, smiled, melting the shaky little thing in the bottom of her chest that had been the only thing keeping her away from him with any kind of dignity.
“It’s good to see you,” he whispered, voice a deep rumble coming from the chest.
She looked at him through her lashes, unwrapped her arms from around him so she could lean back more. What would he do now? What would he say?
Maybe he was waiting for her next words, she realized when he simply looked at her face with tender eyes.
She knew that look that warmed her from toes to hair. It had been the one he had used the whole time they had traveled through Korrath together. The look he had kept in the Keep, when she had showed him around, brought him food.
The same look he’d had when he had taken her that last time they had shared.
He probably wouldn’t stop her either, if she got on her tiptoes and kissed him. She could see it, how he would hum into it, how he’d push her right back into his chest, before swinging to the right, to press her against the wall. Maybe he’d walk her back through, until he could pull her up on the table, so they didn’t have to crane their neck so much. She’d love that, she thought, to sit on that table and kiss him until she couldn’t take it anymore and started pushing his shirt away.
She wouldn’t have time to catalog all the new scars, not when they ran the risk of the cook or anyone else walking in, but feeling his skin against hers would be enough. His hard member in her hand would have to do, while she paid attention to the micro expressions on his face. She knew what he looked like when he came, but she wanted to learn what happened before. She wanted to watch him come undone, like they had done so many times that very first night, but take her time with it.
His voice would go higher on the moan, lower each time he said her name.
Then he’d make it good for her. He always did.
He put his hands on her shoulders, and took a step back, clearing his throat.
For a second, she didn’t understand what was going on, lost in the fantasy of getting him back and starting right back where they had left off, before all the killing and betraying. Then he looked away, and she remembered herself.
“You look tired.”
“I was just going…”
He nodded, looked at her, the softness in his eyes still there, but something else, a distance and an uncertainty she had maintained herself until this very moment.
What an idiot she was, she thought bitterly. She took three steps back, turned to her potion making.
“Triss is already in the dining room,” she said, because the sorceress had just strode into the house straight from his bed, just a few minutes before, but Adri was apparently stupid enough to forget that – or the rest.
She couldn’t trust Eskel, and she couldn’t trust herself near him. Great .
She bent down to take a quick sniff at the poison she was making in a smaller vial than the rest, almost missing his next words.
“I don’t… I’m sorry… I mean…” he stopped, probably to lick his lips, but she stayed focused on her poison. It was done, and the potions would be very soon. She’d go to bed then, try to forget about this – about all of this. “Adri, I never meant–”
“You should go,” she said, sharp enough to leave no place for any further word.
He made a sound in the back of his throat, and left with one last lingering look. She knew, because his eyes burned the side of her face that hadn’t been kicked purple.
I can’t travel with him , she thought, taking a very small sip of the poison, just to feel the way her heart thudded as her fangs came out. There has to be another way .
***
There was no other way. It was made abundantly clear by the time she spent with Letho.
He looked almost normal, when she caught sight of him. Then he saw her, and his face closed down. It seemed like an involuntary thing, but it still hurt. She wished there was some way he could find comfort in her presence, but as she tried making stilted conversation with him, it was clear this was a lost battle.
Worse, he finally relaxed when the bard walked in, humming under his breath.
That didn’t leave her with a lot of choices. Her main goal for now was to do everything in her power to help him get back to himself – even if that meant she had to stay away. He would be mad at her, she knew, but getting Gaetan back to him was also part of fixing him. He wouldn’t get it at first, but in time, she was certain he would thank her.
That meant leaving him, which was for the best apparently, but she wasn’t happy about it, and having to go to the White Wolf of all people left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“I need to speak to Aiden,” she told him.
He was sitting in a large room she had never been in before. It was smaller than the library she had once visited, but still contained a ton of books, and enough couches and armchairs for everyone in the whole house to sit by themselves.
Geralt was by the fire, had been reading a small leather book when she had come in. Jaskier was on the farthest corner of the room, drumming on his lute softly and scratching things down on a parchment. Alvin and Triss were on the same couch, reading from a large tome between them on the cushion. They glanced her way, but quickly went back to their reading. Eskel, for his part, was on the armchair facing Geralt’s.
He kept his eyes firmly turned to the bestiary on his lap.
“I don’t know how to contact him,” said the White Wolf, looking at her eyes because it was the only thing visible.
“But you know where to find Lambert.”
“Not exactly.”
“I do,” said Eskel.
Of course he did.
She gritted her teeth, knowing it was hidden by her shawl, and turned to face him.
“I’m going to see him on my way to Kaer Morhen. Triss is coming too, we’re leaving in three days.”
It would have been polite to answer, but she turned to Alvin instead. She didn’t need to ask, and he didn’t have to answer, because he simply sent her a guilty look, before his eyes moved to Geralt.
Great, so Alvin would stay here.
“Where is he?” she asked, still turned towards Alvin.
“Brugge, last I heard.”
At least it wasn’t Kovir.
“I’ll be ready in three days,” she said, and that was that.
***
Going back on the Path for real, meaning for the foreseeable future, with no end in sight, made her equally nervous and excited. Witchers weren’t made to rot in some colorful palace under the blue sky. They were weapons, forged and bent through brutal trials, made to kill.
It felt weirdly right, to bid goodbye to Letho and Alvin, and then wait by the front garden as Triss and Geralt exchanged a way too tight hug, before it was Eskel’s turn to pat his fellow witcher’s back. Geralt spared her a nod she returned, and off they were.
She had been given a mount, something she hadn’t really understood, but she hadn’t fought too hard on it – mostly because it was Eskel holding out the reins, and her stomach turned each time she so much as turned towards his general direction.
The horse was on the stockier side, but it was calm, its brown coat boring enough that people probably wouldn’t look twice at her, not when Triss and Eskel’s stallions were nearby. It was all very new to Adri, but she kept quiet for the first day and simply let her horse follow the others, and made camp at night when and where it was decided.
She made her own fire, put her pallet down slightly farther away from the others, keen on letting them keep their privacy and keeping hers. They sat with their backs to her, which she appreciated, once it was time to sleep.
No one said a word to her, and she was fine with it.
The following days were more or less the same. They came upon a village that had no work to offer and looked nervous enough that it made Adri nervous too. She only had to send one look at Eskel, to find him already frowning in her direction.
They left without waiting.
On the sixth day, they stumbled upon a nekker nest that they cleaned out with strict efficiency, Eskel moving with grace despite his stature, dodging whenever Adri passed him, cutting down monsters around her own movement. They moved like they had, back at the barn, when they had desperately tried to save Letho, Gaetan and Aiden.
It was weird, to be fighting alongside someone who had such a different style to hers, yet be so in sync. They made a good team, and the next village they encountered paid for their work, going as far as offering a bottle of ale.
That made Triss laugh, that night by the fire. Her cheeks were flushed from the drink, her hair was falling down her shoulders and back in fiery but soft strands, and Adri couldn’t help but look at her from her seat by her own pallet, a few meters away.
She wondered what a sorceress’ life was like. Why this one would come on the Path with them. She hadn’t fought the nekkers, staying way back and simply observing, but she had talked to the villagers, bringing out happy smiles and a lot of gratitude.
Most of the gratitude Adri got on jobs was after killing the violent husband or tyrannical father. People were never really impressed when she killed monsters, strangely enough.
Triss laughed louder when that very information was shared a few minutes later. Adri tried for a smile, not that it mattered when she still had her fighting cowl on, but it fell flat.
“Why wouldn’t they be?” asked Triss, licking at her lips as she passed the bottle of moonshine to Eskel, who grimaced when he gulped a sip down. “Your stature makes it particularly impressive, if I may say so.”
Adri made a hand gesture to indicate she may, and had to take the bottle when Eskel got up to hand it to her. For a second there, as he stood in front of her, looking down at her face, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do – but the bottle in her tight grip was a good enough indication.
She turned her back to him, pushed down the cowl just enough to take a quick sip, before hiding her face again and giving the drink back.
That made everyone frown, but she could read the hurt in Eskel’s dark face.
“Why the cowl?” asked Triss, who seemed more curious than anything else. “We’ve both seen your face before.”
“You both sure did,” she replied, starting to unlace her boots. “I just like it better when my face is hidden.”
“Harder to remember,” whispered Eskel – it was something she had told him, after he had asked that very question.
He touched his scars with the tip of his fingers, and turned back to the fire and Triss.
***
On day twenty five of their little expedition, they came upon a beautiful lake, with water so clear, you could see every single fish and rock at the bottom of it.
It was Triss who started shedding her clothes first, and jumped in with an amused cry, disappearing under the water for a moment, before her head came out, offering both witchers large smiles.
It did look nice and refreshing, and over three weeks on the Path meant not a lot of baths, but Eskel was shuffling right next to her, and started putting his sword down, getting his boots off, and she knew she wouldn’t go in. No way.
She remembered all too well the last time she had been in a bathtub with him. She wasn’t keen on finding herself in water and by his side anytime soon.
“I’ll keep watch,” she said, more a grumble than anything, before turning her back to them and the lake, and taking a few steps back towards the forest.
No one tried to stop her, and she could only hear the splash of Eskel hitting the water under the sorceress’ laugh, keeping her eyes towards the trees.
That was the exact same position she was in, when she heard some shuffling coming their way. She sank into a kneeling position, one hand going for the iron daggers on the small of her back, holding her breath, trying to hear better. They were still quite in the middle of nowhere, but bandits weren’t known for being smart.
The shuffle resonated again, and Eskel stopped moving in the lake.
“Is someone here?” he asked, making Adri quickly turn to send him a very dark look. He shrugged, as if they were friends or something, which made her angry.
But then the person walking in their direction answered.
“Damn it, Eskel is that you?!”
Eskel approached the side of the lake, and hauled himself out using only upper body strength. Adri looked away, but not soon enough. She saw the way the muscles played under his wet skin, how some drops stuck to his chest hairs, how when he passed a hand through his hair, it stayed back and away from his face.
“Lambert!” he called, walking until he was standing only three feet away from Adri.
She let go of her dagger as the other wolf witcher appeared. He had a frown on that melted the second he saw his friend.
“Naked in the forest, what are you doing this time?”
Eskel laughed and took Lambert in his arms once he was close enough, both patting each other’s back in that manly way men had. It was almost touching, except Eskel was still very naked, and when Lambert looked down and saw her still crouching in the weeds, he raised shocked eyebrows.
“Have I interrupted something?”
“No,” replied Adri before Eskel could, rolling her eyes and getting back to her feet. “They were having a swim, that’s all.”
“They?” He looked over Eskel’s shoulder, waved at Triss who waved back. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We were on our way to you,” said Eskel.
“I thought we were supposed to get to you?”
Eskel shrugged, and Adri stopped looking at him. He was stupidly tall and stupidly broad and still wet and naked .
“Is Aiden with you?” she asked instead, “I need to speak with him.”
“He’s at our camp.” He was still looking at the lake. “He doesn’t really like to swim, but this place is way better for a camp than where we stopped. I need to go get him, I should be back by end of day.”
“Do you need me to come with you?” she asked – hoping that he’d say yes.
“And stop you from enjoying the water? Nah, I’ll be fine. Have fun while I trek.”
She didn’t swear, but it was a close thing.
***
By the time the sky was bathed in fiery orange and the sun was dipping down to touch the horizon, Lambert had managed to come back and set up both his and Aiden’s camp, and help Eskel with his.
Despite Lambert’s earlier words, Aiden had insisted on getting into the water to speak with Adri, and it was clear she had to force herself to do so as she agreed. Eskel had turned his back to them and started on setting up a real camp when that had happened, and had only gotten the courage to peek over his shoulder once since then.
She was in the water, face naked, hair pulled in a very messy bun at the very top of her head, while Aiden held her shoulders to keep from sinking, and they spoke in whispers.
Eskel sighed with longing.
He’d go toe to toe with a lot of monsters, just to get to being normal with her again. The air felt suffocating each time he so much as glanced at her. The courage that had pushed him to take her in his arms, when he had walked into Geralt’s kitchen and found her there, had drained long ago, and he couldn’t seem to find it again.
He regretted not kissing her when he had the chance to, but no amount of regret could make her take a dip in the lake with him, it seemed, which had been made worse by the way she had looked at him when he had come out.
And this was what hurt the most. The fact that he knew, down in the very core of him, that she felt the same as he did. She had hugged him back, and had looked at him with those large, deep eyes that had pulled at all of his heart strings.
He knew that look. It was the one from their last night together, that had haunted him since then.
Geralt had warned him, that night she had disappeared from his house, while all the Vipers had been ready to fight them. He had hissed something rude about attacking that cunt Mattia, then told him that he better remember who he was and keep a tight hold on his emotions.
I’d hate to see you make this any worse, he had said. You deserve to get to fix this, but it won’t happen if you don’t control yourself.
He wasn’t certain there was any fixing to be done, as he watched her face relax for the first time, now that he was far and she was with Aiden.
“What’s with the long face?” asked Lambert, coming to sit by his side and rearrange the wood he had piled up to make a fire.
“Nothing,” he snapped, pushing Lambert’s hands away to put the wood back to how it’d been.
“Is this about a certain Viper floating with a Cat not too far from here?”
“Bite me Lamb.”
“Ow, don’t be like that!”
“Whatever you heard from Geralt, know that it’s not true.”
Lambert had a shit eating grin, which meant trouble.
“First of all,” he said, raising a finger, “I got my info from Berengar, who got it from Coen who got it from Jaskier, who is the only person alive capable of wading through Geralt’s emotional talk.” Eskel rolled his eyes, starting the fire, but Lambert simply raised another finger. “Second of all, even with no prior information, and if I had somehow forgotten that the one time I met her, she had almost died and been floating in the sewers for a few days and that clearly didn’t stop you from fucking her–”
“Oh for gods’ sake–”
“It’s hard not to pick up the vibe when you both are so clearly doing your best to ignore the other. Plus she made eyes at you when you were standing there naked. What is up with that, by the way?”
“Nothing,” he replied, feeling his cheeks betray him.
Had she really been looking?
“Was she really…?”
It was Lambert’s turn to roll his eyes. “Of course she was. I love Aiden to death, and you’re my brother, but I’d have to be brain dead not to admit you look… well.” He gestured at Eskel’s general direction, which made him frown.
“What?”
“Well... tall, dark, broody, scarred. You know. People dig that.”
Eskel frowned down at his too big hands, remembering the words she had once used to describe him. I’ve seen ugliness before, and there’s nothing of it in you. They had been naked and sharing the same bath at the time. Her hair had been full of sewer water.
That made him smile.
“She said the scars gave me the full witcher look.”
“See!” replied Lambert with a large smile. “She digs you, and you’re obviously obsessed.”
“I’m not–”
Lambert’s raised eyebrows cut him off.
“As I was saying, you’re obviously obsessed. I don’t know what Aiden will tell her, but you better do something while you have her here. Who knows where she’ll go next.”
Those words brought a cold shiver of anxiety down his spine and made his stomach tight enough that it hurt. She’d disappear, he knew, but what could he do? She hated him – and he kind of hated himself too, for what had happened, for letting the events shake him enough that he had reacted the way he had, lashing out and refusing to participate.
What could he do?
Those words continued to haunt him even as they set up for dinner. Even as everyone got out of the water and dried themselves – he carefully kept his eyes turned to the fire and the rabbits Lambert had brought from his other camp. The fact that she was getting dressed so close to him was making his skin prickle, but he held on.
And that question kept on resonating in his head.
She kept her face uncovered and her hair up on her head as they ate, leaving herself for him to stare at whenever he could do so stealthily. She talked and smiled at Aiden, listened to what Triss and Lambert were saying, glanced his way once, quickly looking away as he did so.
What could he do to keep her? Not to be forgiven, not yet, but at least to be given a chance.
After eating, they all stayed sitting around the fire, listening to Lambert retelling their craziest jobs from the past few years. He had been on the Path non stop with Aiden, and they had more than enough stories to fill months of nights by the fire, but Eskel couldn’t focus on it, not from the moment Adri had reached up, and undone the leather string that had been holding her hair up.
Her hair fell down upon her back now, and he dreamed of burying his fingers into those soft, thick curls. They would smell of orange blossom water, he knew – just as he knew the way her breath would hitch when he kissed her. He thought of burying himself inside of her. She would be so wet and warm, so snug around him, inviting and soft. She’d claw at his shoulders and mewl in his ear, and she’d love every second of it as much as he would.
In another life, back before he had watched her school butcher another one, it would have happened, too. That night, two nights later. It would have been on the table.
Now though, he could only watch as she took her hair into her small hands, combing through it with a grimace each time her fingers got stuck.
He tried coming up with something to do to convince her to stay – while her eyes weren’t on him and he could focus – but nothing came. All had been said and done, it seemed.
“I can smell your arousal from all the way there,” whispered Lambert as he moved to sit down next to him.
Eskel’s eyes snapped to glare at him. He hadn’t realized Triss had started speaking instead of him, and when he focused back on her, Adri had moved to squat down by her pack and start foraging around it. He wondered what she was looking for – if maybe he might help her.
“Seriously, dude,” muttered Lambert, adding an elbow jab this time.
“Leave me alone.”
“I wish I could, but it’s too pathetic., and you know me…”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “you’re such a romantic and have such a big heart.”
“Exactly,” replied Lambert with a finger snap and a lopsided smirk. “And I’ve thought about it long and hard. I know just the way to get her back.”
“Oh really?”
Eskel turned to face him, because Adri was still looking for something in her pack and she probably could tell that he was staring now – and it was rude , and awkward for the both of them. Plus he had missed Lambert being a clown.
The other wolf leaned forward to whisper into his ear, sounding absolutely dead serious.
“You need to make her jealous.”
Eskel chuckled a little, certain that it was a joke, but Lambert simply looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a glint in the eyes.
“You’re serious.”
“I’m dead serious. It works every time.”
“And you know this because…”
“It doesn’t matter how I know this. Just trust me, okay?”
“Alright…” He wasn’t convinced at all, but what else could he do, really, other than pretend to go ahead with this stupid idea? Turning back to stare once more certainly wasn’t an option. “And how would I do that, exactly?”
Lambert’s eyes slowly moved from him, to Triss on the other side of the fire. Eskel laughed in his face.
“Triss? Really? She’s like–”
“Yeah, yeah, a sister or something equally weird, I know, but does she know?”
Eskel followed Lambert’s punctuating chin gesture, once more looking at Adri, who had stopped searching her pack and was now coating her hands with something from a vial, before running them through her hair. The flames sent auburn rays upon her hair, making it look wildly different than it was – closer to Triss’ fiery hair.
The scent hit him a second later, orange blossom.
“Adri doesn’t know Triss that well,” he whispered, mostly to convince himself it wasn’t a crazy idea.
“Exactly,” whispered the devil’s voice in his ear. “And I’m sure Triss can be persuaded to help you.”
“You think so?”
Lambert nodded, a devilish smile on his face. He looked even more sinister than before, but simply shrugged when told.
“I’m a mastermind of seduction, and that’s all that matters.”
Eskel didn’t contradict him, but still thought that those were famous last words.
***
“This is ridiculous,” said Triss when she was told of the plan.
Aiden was back in the lake, with Adri. They were splashing around, and she was laughing .
It twisted the knife in his heart deeply and sharply. He wasn’t certain he had heard the sound before.
He wasn’t certain he deserved to.
“We’re all adults here, Lambert.”
“You know how witchers are.”
“Which is why I’m not getting in the middle of it.”
“Oh come on!”
A new laugh caught Eskel’s attention. He turned, just in time to see Aiden throw her into the water under her screams of amusement. It seemed nice. Something completely innocent they all could be doing. Something he knew he had no right to. He’d never touch her again, even as a friend. It was strange, but that knowledge came to him bitterly and clear as day.
That hug in the kitchen had been the last time she let him close, he was certain of it.
She broke out of the water, spitting water at Aiden who laughed loudly too, and her eyes moved to him standing there so far behind the Cat.
Not far enough. Her face fell, and she went back to Aiden in quick strokes, saying something Eskel couldn’t hear that had Aiden look at him too, before shaking his hair and starting to swim to shore. Adri followed, clearly keeping an eye on him. She was scowling more and more the closer she got to shore, so Eskel turned away from her.
He would never look at her naked if she didn’t want him to. He’d never do anything she didn’t want him to, but she didn’t want anything to do with him – she had brought Mattia with her, but had pushed Eskel away.
That hurt as much as it had in the moment. His face felt numb, the corners of his mouth pulling down without him being able to stop them. It was hopeless, and he was an idiot to even think about it – to have brought the subject up with Geralt, who somehow had agreed.
She should travel with us, it’s safer , he had said, as if his best and oldest friend hadn’t clearly read through the lines. I need to travel with her, one last time at least, please help me make it happen .
Triss and Lambert were still arguing their stupid plan but stopped when he started walking away. He didn’t turn when Lambert called his name, simply grabbing his pack, and starting to put it back in order. It was time they left the little lake. Walking would help him get his ideas in order, he knew.
Walking would give him something to do other than agonize over the distance between Adri and him.
***
“I have to tell you something,” said Triss when she sat down by Adri’s side, facing the fire.
The guys were all whispering among themselves at the other fire. Adri had made one for herself to stay away from them all, but it seemed the sorceress didn’t care much.
Adri put down the boot she had been cleaning, and met her eyes.
“I’m listening.”
She was wearing her shawl, a dark blue one almost exactly the same color as the one she had once worn, in Kaer Morhen. Almost. It wasn’t the same though, as so many other things.
“When you saw me, in Geralt’s house, I was leaving him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you saw the hickey, and I want to make it clear, I wasn’t coming from Eskel’s. I was with Geralt, when Jaskier came into the room.”
“So what, you jumped out the window?”
The look on the sorceress’ face made her chuckle. She couldn’t imagine it, not when the woman stood there with her fiery hair and pale eyes. She was very dignified as she raised her chin.
“Why would you want to keep it a secret?”
That made Triss look away, toward the fire as she bit down on her lower lip. Adri could recognize guilt.
“I did something bad, a few years ago. Something I’ve regretted, and tried to make amends for. Geralt says he has forgiven me… but even if it’s true, he hasn’t forgotten. Never will.”
There was pain there, in the twist of her lips, in the way her eyes searched the flames for answers, came up empty and her shoulders dropped. It hurt a little, somewhere in Adri’s stone heart. She knew what it was like, to try so hard to redeem yourself but have to live with the consequences of the past.
She knew how impossible forgiveness could be.
Her eyes slipped towards Eskel, but she forced herself to look away quickly.
“Did he say he wants to keep it a secret?”
“Not really.”
“Does he insist that you guys keep it a secret?”
Triss frowned and looked at her. She went back to chewing on her lip for a moment, before shaking her head.
“He doesn’t, but I see the way he looks at me, from time to time. He’s thinking about someone else.”
“Is that someone else still in the picture?”
Triss shrugged, but her real answer was clear on her face.
“You know the only way to change the situation is to talk about it, right?”
“Of course,” sighed Triss, “but I’d rather not change a thing than risk making it worse.”
“How could it get worse, exactly?”
“Well, he could throw me out of his estate and tell me never to speak to him again, for one.”
Adri laughed at this, rolling her eyes when all she got was a confused expression. “Yeah, right he will. He accepted me under his roof. I think you’re fine.”
“He doesn’t hate you, you know.”
“Sure, and I’m the queen of Cintra.”
It was Triss’ turn to huff a laugh.
“Besides, even if he declares that you should never speak to him again, you both have time. There are plenty of witchers I told would get killed the next time I saw them, and I haven’t.”
“Like this Mattia,” replied Triss, face taking a very interested expression, all of the sudden.
“Exactly like Mattia,” Adri told her, because to hells with it. Even if Triss repeated every single thing Adri told her that night, it wouldn’t matter. She had big plans spanning the next decade of her life and it didn’t involve a single wolf witcher in them. “I vowed never to speak to him again, and about five years later he finds me in the middle of nowhere and we start plotting the Emperor’s assassination together.”
“Then he tried to kill you.”
“That he did, and helped me escape too. I didn’t want to see him again after that too, and a few years passed, but I needed his help.”
“Do you regret it? Trusting him again, I mean.”
Adri took the time to think about it.
“I think there’s a part of me that will never stop hoping that he turns out not to be a bastard, but the rest of me knows that it’s his nature. I can’t really fault the viper for striking when I hold my hand out.”
“That’s… almost beautiful.”
“In a sick and twisted way. I do regret falling into the same trap again and again. We’re bad for each other, no matter the nature of our relationship.” Her eyes drifted back to Eskel. She felt a pang in her heart.
“With him too?” carefully asked Triss, her eyes having followed Adri’s.
“It’s different,” she said, knowing it was a bad idea but needing to say those words out loud to someone else, at least once. “He thinks he knows who I am, and projects that image onto me. He was bound to be disappointed when I finally shattered the illusion.”
“What about you? Do you see him as he is, or do you also project?”
“I used to see him, at least I thought I did. He helped me rescue the others. I thought…”
She trailed off, thinking of cold nights under the desert sky, and burning afternoons. Thinking of how solid he had felt, as she had gripped him while they rode down South like fire was on their heels. How he had held her, that day he had learned that she wasn’t dead.
“It doesn’t matter now, though. We’ve both changed. He lives in Toussaint, and I have a lot of things to do in this world before a monster or some man gets me for good.”
“Leaving people behind is easier said than done,” she replied, “especially when regret and guilt eats you from the inside out.”
They looked at each other for a moment, Adri not knowing what to answer to that.
“Lambert has a plan to make you jealous by pretending Eskel and I are a thing,” finally said Triss after a moment.
“Did you or Eskel thought it would work?”
“No, of course, but Lambert insisted .”
“Maybe we should make them jealous,” she said, making Triss laugh loudly enough that the men turned to look at them.
***
Adri couldn’t imagine how true those words were. How Eskel went to sleep that night, his back to her, feeling like the back of his neck was on fire. He wanted to turn, to take a look, to ask Triss what they had talked about, what had been so funny, had Adri laughed?
How was she?
Did she think of him as obsessively as he thought of her?
But all he could do was force his eyes shut, and pretend to sleep while his heart shivered in his chest, twisting and twisting until the pain was taking his breath away.
***
Crossing over Temeria brought in a wave of bad weather and worse temper. Aiden and Lambert were clearly on edge, and so was Adri. She didn’t like it here, and had a bad feeling about this. They would run out of the food they had brought with them and managed to hunt and gather so far, and they all knew they’d have to get jobs at some point.
Two witchers striding into a village would be accepted, but four was out of the question.
“We’ll go,” said Aiden when Adri started fighting with Lambert over who would do it. “Adri and me. We’ve worked together before, it’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” asked Lambert, his face losing all the anger he had started building when getting into a semi-screaming match with her.
“Yes,” whispered Aiden, reaching up to cup his face. They kissed.
Adri looked away, accidentally met Eskel’s eyes, and had to grit her teeth as she took a couple of steps away from them all.
It was a huge mistake, she knew. Aiden had told her already where to find Gaetan, had warned her not to go get him, but had still given her the information. She should have packed her bag and left the very night she had been told.
Instead, she had indulged in the comfort of traveling with others. It was always the same vulnerability she couldn’t break out of. Maybe it was because it reminded her of her childhood tribe, because it wasn’t just about having someone looking out whenever she went to sleep. She liked traveling with others, found some comfort in it, even when it was with the man she hated with a burning passion.
It felt good, and right , and so she hadn’t left yet.
She knew she would regret it, yet she still went with Aiden to the closest village, looking for a witcher job.
The people there sneered and grimaced, but they recognized their attire and their medallions just fine. There was a job, one perfectly suited for the pair they made, or so they were told. A group of men had been poaching around in the forest. There were five of them. It paid well, all things considered.
Aiden looked at Adri, who looked back with a blank expression under her cowl. They were Cat and Viper. They took on human contracts.
The Wolves would freak out.
“We’ll do it,” said Adri when Aiden didn’t say anything to stop her.
They walked out in silence, and when Aiden tried to take her by the shoulder, she slipped away, and kept on walking.
He didn’t follow.
***
It took Adri about two days. The men weren’t that bad, but they were sloppy when drunk, and they seemed to be doing a lot of it at night. Aiden had made a comeback sometime in the past four hours, crouching by her side silently.
They didn’t speak as they waited for the men to sober up, but when Adri took her steel daggers out and made sure her cowl was tight around her face, Aiden took his own blades out and gave her a firm nod.
She nodded back, and off they were.
Killing was easy, it had always been, and it felt good . Adri had spent too long foraging for berries and looking over her shoulder to make sure she kept enough space between herself and the others. Here, in the storm of blades and screams, as blood flew and her survival instinct kicked in, her mind emptied for the first time since she had last left Toussaint. All that was left was the weight and elegance of her daggers in her grip, and whatever the enemy was throwing at her.
The village had asked for fingers as proof, and Adri took on the grim task when it was clear the killing was all Aiden was capable of for now.
They didn’t speak even as they went back, got their payment, and then tracked the faint passage of their three other companions.
No one said anything still when they arrived at the little camp dressed as usual. They had even left some space for Adri to put her bedroll down away from them.
Too bad she didn’t need to hear a single thing to know exactly what Eskel was thinking. It was clear in his eyes as he looked her up and down, all human blood covered.
He was disappointed in her, and as bile rose in her throat while she shakily put her pack down and grabbed some water to clean her hands, she bitterly thought well fuck you too .
***
The next job they found was an alghoul a week later. It wasn’t nearly enough to feed them all, and as Adri stayed in camp while the Wolves left, she wondered what the fuck she was actually doing. Gaetan was a long way away from her, and she had to consider winter. Aiden had said the other Cat would travel South at some point if it got too cold, but her own definition of cold was probably vastly different.
She had survived some weeks in Kaer Morhen, but wasn’t keen on doing so on the Path. She couldn’t count on the cold being less biting in Kovir. She should be moving instead of waiting with Aiden and Triss, her face uncovered for once, cooking the few pitiful plants they had found.
But when Eskel strode back in camp with his hair all mussed up, his sword in hand and clearly out of a terrible fight, that smile of post-hunting glee pushing at his lips, she was punched with what, exactly, it was she was doing.
He was hot. He was more than hot, he was delicious. All shoulders and chest, telling them around the fire what had happened, how a specter had showed up after the alghoul had gotten Lambert in the calf.
His voice was a deep rumble, and Adri was too far gone to realize she had forgotten to put her cowl or shawl back on. Their eyes met. She knew hers were glinting with more than professional interest.
She still felt the same for him as she had in the desert or in his bed.
Love sounded – wrong, childish, too much yet not enough all at the same time. Love was not something they were afforded.
Yet, as he continued on talking, looking away from her and down at his hands, blushing slightly, amber eyes hidden behind his lashes and too long hair, she had to face the facts.
She loved him, despite everything, so she was staying close.
When had that happened? When had that surfaced through the rage and hate and disgust? Was it when he had gotten out of the lake naked and dripping? But even as she wondered, she knew it was because of the way he had hugged her close in the White Wolf’s kitchen.
Shit.
***
The air was thick with anticipation, that night. The monsters had been killed, the payment given, and Eskel had gotten back to camp with his brother in one piece. Everything was right in the world of a witcher – except Adri had kept her face naked, and looked at him almost all night long. She had sat by his side for supper, and had listened to the story of that day’s kill.
She hadn’t said anything, but she had also stayed, right there, by his side!
Now, everyone had gone to bed. Lambert and Aiden had disappeared off somewhere in the forest, probably to work out the post-hunt adrenaline rush, and Triss’ soft breathing could be heard coming from the little tent she had made for herself.
Adri was as silent as death, and Eskel could feel it on his tongue. It was strange, how such a small person laying so far away from him could fill up the very air in his lungs, until it felt like he was buzzing, waiting for something to happen.
She would strike, he knew she would.
Her hand touched his shoulder. He rolled to his back, looking up at her.
She was in full armor, with her shawl on. It twisted his heart as he sat up while she knelt.
“What are you doing?” he asked, a surge of panic coloring his voice.
“I’m leaving. It’s better this way.”
His hand surged to grab onto her wrist before he could fully think about it, but she let him.
“Please don’t, just– wait. Just a few more days.”
“I don’t have a few more days, and it won’t change anything.”
“Adri, please, I just–”
There was a shift in the air. Adri tensed, looked over her shoulder, and just had time to duck and throw herself at him.
There was a scream by his ear. His head hit the ground. He got back up the second Adri jumped away, dizzy and not understanding, reaching for his sword.
The air was shimmering in front of her as she dodged, back, back, right, swiping in a large arc with her right steel dagger. She held it with the blade running along her forearm while the left one was in a normal grip, and her next attack provoked a scream from the shimmering air. Blood tainted the weapon, flying everywhere.
“Son of a bitch!” screamed Adri as she stabbed with her left hand.
She touched again, the air shimmering harder, a lanky shadow coming in and out of focus before his very eyes. What the fuck was that?
He jumped to his feet, but Adri jumped back, running into him.
“Duck!” she yelled.
Eskel felt and heard the blade passing above his head, just a hair away. He would have been decapitated if not for the order. Maybe he had hit his head harder than he had thought.
“Move!” screamed Triss right before chucking chaos at them all.
Adri threw herself at him again, cushioning his head with her arms this time, but Eskel was too focused on looking at what was happening. There was a masculine scream, before the shadow appeared again, becoming clearer and clearer until it was a man in a strangely familiar armor.
He had seen that pale leather before, somewhere on the border of Zerrikania.
His arms tried closing down around Adri, but she managed to slip away, throwing herself at the attacker – Eskel was certain it was a Manticor, but that made no sense. Why would someone dressed as a Manticor witcher be here, in their camp at night attacking them.
Attacking Adri, his mind corrected. That witcher was targeting Adri, and he fought well too, but it wouldn’t be enough.
It never was.
She stabbed up with her left dagger while swiping right to left, from shoulder to hip, with the right one. It happened too fast for Eskel to say or do anything. One second, the Manticor was moving his sword around, the next he was falling down on his knees.
“No!” screamed the Wolf, jumping to his feet.
Adri looked over her shoulder at him as she sliced the Manticor’s throat and caught his medallion as his body fell back. The chain broke, the enchanted pendant staying in her grip as she flicked the blood off one dagger and sheathed it.
She turned to face Eskel.
“You can’t do this!” he exploded.
“I can,” she replied, bending down to look through the dead witcher’s pocket. “I will,” she added when she came up empty and cleaned her dagger off his pants, “even if you try to stop me.”
For a second, Eskel could only feel his lips quiver as the emotions in his chest thundered. He couldn’t tell what he was feeling anymore, despair, hopelessness, anger, rage, sorrow or grief. It was all tightly pressed into a ball, and was about to come out, he could feel it.
“Adri,” he tried.
She looked up, with anger in her eyes. There was blood all over her shawl, and the fabric stuck to the left side of her face.
She could have died, and she was about to throw herself daggers first into more problems, he could tell. But she had come to him. It had to mean something.
It had to.
“You’re not going,” he said, making her scoff. “I’m serious.” He took a step closer, but she took a step back, her hands going back for the daggers on the small of her back. The steel ones.
“There’s no one in this world who can tell me what to do.”
“I’m trying to save you from yourself!”
“How dare you– ”
“You’re better than this! You’re more than just a senseless assassin who–”
“Funny how you didn’t give a fuck about this,” she cut him, pointing at the dead body by her side, her voice resonating loud enough in the clearing that a few birds flew away. “You didn’t give a shit when you were fucking me in Triss’ bathtub, if I remember correctly. Or on top of your bed. Or in mine! You didn’t care at all, up until you decided it was getting too real for you.”
Eskel tried breathing, found he couldn’t. His face was burning, his heart was burning, and when he managed to get some words out, they were the wrong ones.
“I thought you were better than this.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” she threw back, full of sarcasm.
She tore her shawl off, and he caught sight of the bitter smile twisting her lips. It stabbed him right in the lungs, between the ribs. What was he doing? What was happening?
“I wish I could live up there on my high horse with you,” she continued, shoving the ruined piece of fabric into her pack and taking her cowl out instead, “unfortunately, not all of us are fancy witchers rolling in dough and making wine.” She slipped the cowl on, shoved the strands of hair still sticking to her face into it. “Some of us, you see, have to live in the real world, where people want to kill us and our School, and the rest of us are trying to save it.”
“It’s not–”
“Some of us ,” she cut him, pointing a raging finger in his direction, “have to make the best with what we have. We can’t all have others saving our ass with money and sorceresses.”
“Adri…”
“If I see you again,” she said, “I’ll kill you. I won’t wait for you to see me, and I won’t hesitate. Do you hear?” she took a step closer, and the anger in her eyes crystallized and changed in a breath, to resolve and something else.
Something he couldn’t name, not if he wanted to stay standing instead of falling to his knees and start sobbing.
“I’ll kill you.”
She turned, grabbed her pack, and walked away from him, the camp and the dead body.
He tried following her with his eyes, but she was swallowed by the darkness of the forest night. Somewhere in his chest, a howl of despair resonated.
***
It didn’t end there, not that she had expected it to.
Ten days later, she came out of the river where she had been washing herself, to find him sitting on a rock with his back to her.
Her shawl was in his hand, which turned the sudden dread and anxiety at his sight into rage.
Rage was good.
She stuffed herself back into her armor as fast as she could, and only spoke up once that was done. The last thing she wanted was for him to turn around and see her naked.
“I said I’d kill you.”
“Then you should. I didn’t bring my sword.”
She closed her hands into tight fists, but didn’t make a move towards her daggers. Why did it matter? Even if she stabbed him, he’d find a way to make it more painful for her than it was for him, like always.
“Why are you here?”
“Our last conversation wasn’t finished,” he said, finally moving to get up and turn to face her.
She was acutely aware of the fact that her shawl was in his hand as their eyes met. She reached up to undo the stupid leather string keeping her hair up on her head. It fell onto her shoulders, but it wasn’t enough to keep her face from Eskel’s too intense eyes.
How she wished, in this moment, to not be able to read him so easily.
“There’s nothing more for me to say.”
“We both know that’s not true,” he said, taking a step closer.
“Shut up!”
“Why?” he challenged.
“Because I hate you!” was the pathetic scream that came out, instead of all the burning things in her chest. “Why can’t you let it go? Why can’t you let me go?!”
“I can’t, Adri I…” There was something that changed in his eyes, on his face. Something that took her breath away. Then he finished his sentence, and the world shattered for a second. “I love you.”
She couldn’t help the bitter chuckle, nor the way a knife twisted in her heart.
Fuck him and his confession.
“You hate everything I do and represent.”
His expression grew softer. He took a step closer, and she took a big one back, skin crawling.
This couldn’t be happening. Of all the things he could have said… he couldn’t be doing this to her. She couldn’t believe it.
“I couldn’t hate you if my life depended on it,” he replied, taking another step closer. She didn’t move this time, she couldn’t, not with the way he was pinning her on the spot with those amber eyes and that soft expression. How could someone so big and scary be so soft?
How could someone so soft love her?
“You abandoned me,” she accused, crossing her arms.
“I know.”
He inched closer.
She grit her teeth harder.
“I faked my own death and let you believe it for two years.”
A sad smile touched the corner of his mouth.
“I know.”
“We don’t want the same things.”
“I just want your happiness.”
“Being far from you would make me overjoyed.”
He didn’t smile this time. Instead, he inched even closer, close enough that she stopped breathing when he leaned down to be closer to her face.
“We both know that’s a lie.”
She turned around, took all of two steps before he stopped her by grabbing her arm.
“You can’t walk away!”
“What, like you did?!” she exploded, spinning around to face him again.
He wet his lips. She wanted to punch his fucking face in.
“Look, I saw you butcher your own School and it triggered something in me that–”
“I get it,” she cut him. “I really do, but that’s part of the reason it’ll never work.”
That got him to let go of her, but instead of stepping back like she knew she should have, she leaned closer.
“It will never work,” she repeated.
“So you do admit that you love me.”
She shook her head, but knew her face was saying something else from the way his face relaxed.
He reached out and grabbed her hand into his. He was wearing fingerless gloves, and she had stupidly kept hers in the pouch at her belt, so when he pressed his thumb into the center of his palm, she felt the electricity run from that point, all the way to her toes.
Maybe…
No.
No.
“No.”
“Why not?”
She looked into his eyes, ran her own thumb across his hand, and decided to be open and honest, for once in her life. He’d let her go, once he knew who she truly was.
Everyone always did, except Letho, but she had lost even him.
“I’m the one who destroyed the School of the Viper.”
That got him to frown, but nothing more.
“I knew the Empire was coming, so I set it all to blow up the laboratories, and sent everyone running.”
“So you saved them.”
“That’s not the consensus.”
“You saved them.”
“I didn’t save shit. Some still died, most of our knowledge was lost, and I filled the building with corpses dressed as us. Fresh corpses.”
“Adri, I badly reacted in Behet Nar, but I’ve killed humans before, some with you.”
“I tortured the man who flayed Letho alive,” she replied without blinking.
That gave him pause, and her heart came to a painful stop as she saw him take the information like a punch, but she didn’t stop – couldn’t.
“When I met Mattia in Vizima and accepted to work with him, I knew it was a horrible idea. Deep down, I knew he would make me regret it, but I still went with it, just like I’ll always do when he’s concerned.”
“Do you love him?”
She shrugged.
“That’s not about love.”
“What is it about then?”
“It’s about the fact that it’ll never work, and he’s lucid enough to accept that fact.”
He frowned, anger slowly taking over his face.
“So what, you’re going to hide behind that with everyone? It will never work because you have a past and make mistakes? We’re Witchers, we don’t–”
“I don’t want it to work, alright!” she cut him. “With you, or with him, or with anyone. I don’t want it.”
He let go of her hand so abruptly, she almost fell into him. Instead, she kept on looking at his face as he pushed her shawl into her lax grip.
This was what was making him let go?
This ?
Something twisted his face into bitterness and something worse that she couldn’t name but made her heart pick up in panic as he stepped back, looked away. She had trouble swallowing a sudden wave crashing up her throat. Her every instincts told her to say something, to stop him, but she could only watch as he continued to put space between them.
“You’re right,” he said, amber eyes too dark, all of the sudden, “there’s nothing left to say.”
And he left.
Somehow, it felt like she should stop him, but this had been exactly what she had wanted. Exactly how she had wanted this conversation to end. A clear end that closed all doors and left no place for hopes or doubts.
So why did she feel like she had just stabbed herself in the heart repeatedly?