The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That Bind

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Vizima, 1243

They were back in Triss' room, sitting around her table. Geralt had his arm around Robin's waist as he stared at Triss across the flat wooden surface. Jaskier sat at the end so he could watch all of them at once.

"I'm willing to help you cure the striga," Geralt broke the silence. "But you must swear that no harm will come to my companions while they're here. Especially the mage. And you must promise not to bring the Brotherhood down upon her, even after we're gone."

"Those are easy promises to make," Triss informed him. "You shall all be under my protection while you are here in Temeria, and I will not speak to the Brotherhood about your necromancer."

Robin wrinkled her nose. "Please call me Robin. I prefer it to your undead appellation."

Now that Triss had offered them her protection, she felt comfortable sharing her name. The sorceress had, of course, already known Geralt's. She'd used it during their journey to the castle.

"Robin," Triss repeated warmly. "I am very pleased to meet you. Though I can't sense as much as I would like about you, I can sense that you seek a teacher, as I said before. I would like to be that teacher."

"Can't sense as much as you would like?" Jaskier broke in. When the sorceress glanced at him curiously, he waved at her. "Hi, Jaskier. Geralt's best friend and personal bard, Robin's devastatingly charming younger brother. Why can't you sense as much as you would like, exactly? That seems important."

"Well, Jaskier, your sister is cloaking herself," Triss replied.

"I am?" Robin asked.

She hadn't realized.

Triss nodded. "I didn't think you knew you were doing it," she explained. "You must have a very strong desire to stay hidden if you're constantly producing the cloak, yet remain unaware of it."

"You know what people think of my type of magic," she murmured. "You know what might be done to me if the wrong person found out."

She'd never discussed any of this with Jaskier or Geralt. Geralt knew already, anyway, and she didn't want to scare her brother.

"What do you mean, might be done?" Jaskier wondered right on cue. "I knew you said they might take you away as a child, but..."

Geralt squeezed her comfortingly and asked for her assent with his eyes. She nodded, letting him speak.

"Necromancers are often executed by the Brotherhood to prove that they are appropriately policing magic, Jaskier," he revealed. "Or worse. They're imprisoned and experimented on."

"Couldn't they just escape using their magic?"

Jaskier's voice was faint as he looked worriedly at his sister.

"They'd use dimeritium," she told him. "It's a metal that suppresses magic. They make whole cells out of it, and manacles. It makes mages sick. It can even make them go mad."

Jaskier was clearly horrified. "They would do that to one of their own?"

"They wouldn't consider me one of their own, Jas. They'd say I was an abomination."

"That is never happening to you, Robin," Jaskier decided, putting his hands on the table. "Right, Geralt?"

"Never," Geralt echoed, kissing Robin's temple. "They'd have to get through me, and that's not happening."

Robin glanced up at him worriedly. "Don't put yourself in danger for me, Geralt."

He smoothed an errant lock of hair over her ear. "If you need protecting, Robin, I'm going to protect you," he assured her. "Whatever the cost."

He laid a finger over her lips before she could protest. Then he turned back to Triss, who was watching them intently.

"Why would you keep her a secret?" he asked bluntly. "What's in it for you?"

"The Brotherhood doesn't know everything," Triss explained. "Though they'd like to think they do. Robin may be naturally talented at necromancy, but that doesn't mean she's a bad person. And I can already tell after even limited observation that she's extraordinarily gifted with other magic as well. It only helps me to have a powerful ally not connected to the politics of the Brotherhood."

"You're very practical," Geralt commented.

"I have to be. Our world is in upheaval, as you well know."

He nodded. "So you want to teach Robin?"

"For both her benefit and mine, yes."

"In return for what?" Robin inquired.

Teaching magic could be time-consuming, and there was always the risk that the person you trained would turn against you, whether it was justified or not.

"A friend," Triss replied. "Sharing of any interesting information you run across. Magical ingredients procured by Geralt. Help when I need it."

It was a better answer than Robin had hoped for. She knew she'd be taking a chance on any mentor she sought out. Triss seemed skilled and logical, and even more than that, she seemed kind. She wanted to cure the striga, not kill it. That meant a lot to her, and she knew it meant a lot to Geralt too.

I think we can trust her. I'd like her to teach me.

Geralt nodded. "We'll start with the striga," he told her. "I'll try to cure her, as long as you begin helping Robin with her magic."

"I will pay you for the striga, witcher. That is too much to ask of you without reward. But I appreciate the gesture."

"Very well."

Geralt stood. Robin reflexively stood with him, though she knew what he was going to say next.

"You and Jaskier can absolutely not come with me this time. It's going to be far too dangerous."

"I know," Robin assured him. "Be careful."

"I will. I promise."

He leaned down and kissed her, his fingers resting delicately under her chin.

Jaskier stood and sighed. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Is there a tavern around here?"

"Please don't, Jaskier. Everyone saw you with Geralt. They might take their anger at the previous witcher out on you," Robin explained.

"King Foltest might be cheered by some song," Triss suggested. "We need to go see him now to inform him of our plan."

"Well, it's not often that you get a chance to sing for a king," Jaskier decided. "Oohh, that rhymes. I should do something with that."

"Come. I'll show you to the throne room after I change," Triss said. "Once we have Foltest's approval, we'll figure out the rest from there."

They waited while she dressed. Robin took Geralt's cloak off and he sat obediently to let her fix his hair. She removed her own cloak and made sure she was presentable. Jaskier had already removed his and was tuning his lute. He enjoyed looking his best at all times, so he was already fit for an audience with a king.

Triss rejoined them and they followed her down into the castle proper.

Robin was nervous, but she was hoping she was making the right decision. She knew that Geralt would protect her if the worst were to happen, but she didn't want it to come to that. She didn't want anyone in danger because of her.

Jaskier caught her around the shoulders on their way down the stairs. "Relax, sister. I may not be as strong as your witcher, but I'll protect you too."

She nodded as he kissed her cheek, but her stomach flipped.

If either of them got hurt because of her, she would never forgive herself.