Kyana Of Cintra

51

Having changed and returned to Geralt and Yennefer, Kyana adorned a beautiful, yet extremely revealing black dress. There was a huge slit on the leg, starting at her feet and travelling up to her mid thigh. The shoulders were made of silky black material, placed tightly as a part of the off the shoulder sleeves, which were made of black lace. The neckline plunged, and was only covered by the same lace as the sleeve. Geralt wasn't in any better position. He was given leathers, pretty much new, although at least two sizes too small, making it uncomfortable to move. Yennefer didn't care, simply admiring the clothes on the bodies of two beautiful people.

Yennefer didn't miss the looks Geralt was giving Kyana from time to time. His eyes almost gravitated towards her thigh, which was covered, but barely. He found himself looking for a split second, before turning away when he saw her head turn.

"These are a little tight." Kyana pointed out, trying to grasp the flimsy material around her chest and pull it upwards. Yennefer shrugged, appreciative of how revealing the clothes were on both of them. 

"I believe I seized you both up quite right." Kyana rolled her eyes and sat on the bed, taking Jaskier's hand in her own in comfort, but she wasn't sure for who. Geralt sighed, his eyes following her as she gazed worriedly at her friend. Yennefer noticed how they looked like a family, as innocent as one too. "Do you doubt my capabilities?" She asked, not accusingly, just gently.

"No." Kyana answered softly, her thumb drawing small circles on Jaskier's hand. "Just your intentions." Yennefer smiled, although she didn't know why. 

"I said some things to him." Geralt recollected. "He's a..." he couldn't carry on, unaware of what word to select. His pride wouldn't allow proof of his acceptance towards his friendship with Jaskier, especially when he had denied and cast it out so many times to Kyana. 

"A friend?" Yennefer stated, as though she had had enough of Geralt's crap. It was bad enough she could see that the Witchers had feelings for each other, literally hear it while they thought, she didn't need to hear of Jaskier 'not being a friend'. Like a whip, Geralt turned and faced her.

"I'd like it not to be the last thing he remembers." Kyana didn't know how to comfort Geralt. Through all this time, he always said he hated Jaskier. Now he had finally recognized that he hated how closed minded he was, not Jaskier.

"He won't remember much if he's dead." Yennefer joked, although no one found it funny. "It's a joke. He will live, and recover his vocal talents. Does that satisfy you?" Geralt rolled his eyes, but Kyana beat him to it.

"Yes, yes it does." Geralt gave her a glare. "For myself, anyway, maybe not for Geralt. But don't reproach yourself, Yennefer, Geralt is a hard man to satisfy." Geralt's eyes wandered to the foot of the bed, noticing candles and chalk on the floor.

His eyebrows furrowed. "The seal of the djinn." He whispered, having recognized it. The second he recognized it, he felt suspicious and uncertain of the help the mage had given. "I think we'll be taking Jaskier now." Geralt hurriedly pulled Kyana to her feet, Jaskier's hand falling from her grasp.

"If you wake him before he's healed, the spell won't take. That's no way to treat a friend, Geralt." Yennefer had been caught, and she knew it. Kyana looked up at Geralt in confusion, before noticing the chalk on the floor. She understood, and no longer needed Geralt's aid in holding her away from Jaskier. 

"You want the djinn. But the amphora's broken, the djinn's already long gone." Yennefer picked up the seal from the table, running over the markings with the tips of her fingers. When the seal was placed back on the table, the candles fire roared to life, billowing the bed curtains and providing the room with more light.