The Witcher The Swallow and The Monster

Lilac and Gooseberries

Yennefer stood right in front of Geralt and responded, with a bit of flirtation in her voice, "I received a report. About a witcher who'd appeared in White Orchard. I knew it was you. Looking for me. I might've waited until you found me, but...you know me. Patience has never been my strong suite." The sorceress took another step forward, getting even closer. The last time they had seen each other, Geralt had traded his soul for hers, she had yet to pay back the debt, "It's...good to see you, Geralt. I...I'd even embrace you...were you not covered in blood."

The witcher seemed caught off guard, but his heart was still aching for his dear, Yen, "Sorry...Wasn't expecting to see you. To be honest, this isn't at all how I imagined we'd meet."

Yennefer smiled playfully, her innuendo was obvious, "How did you imagine it?"

(F/N) rolled his eyes and scoffed, the sorceress glanced at him, and she suddenly seemed to realize he was there, instantly regret, sorrow, and many other emotions flooded all over her face. To say their relationship was complicated was an understatement. During his younger years he and the sorceress shared a bond, she had taught him a few magic tricks, helped him learn how to ride a horse, and even helped with his meditation. They shared a bond very similar to that of a mother and a son, she might have been closer to him than to Ciri. But that had changed a long time ago. 

She was about to say something to the young witcher, but Vesemir spoke up, the old witcher was unaware of the tension, "He didn't imagine you'd have a Nilfgaardian escort." The sorceress turned her attention to him as he spoke up, her normal demeanor quickly returned as she put her hands on her hips, "Don't get me wrong, Yennefer. I'm glad to see you...but I do think you owe us an explanation."

(F/N) eyed the Nilfgaardians, he was wondering if he should push his way through, getting in a fight looked much better than this. Yennefer glanced at him one last time, looking for a wink, a kind gesture, something to indicate forgiveness but there was nothing, she didn't expect their to be, but she had secretly hoped. She slowly responded to Vesemir, "And I shall provide it...in Vizima. Ready your horses."

The young witcher stared at the sorceress, his anger was slowly rising, his voice was that of a man who had been betrayed, "So after we spent days trying to find you, you show up with a Nilfgaardian escort, and demand we come with you to Vizima? I think I've had enough of you."

Geralt gave his ward a look that yelled, 'Shut up.' The witcher looked back at the woman he loved, "But he is right, why Vizima? We can talk here. Some charming orchards nearby. In bloom, even, so you almost can't smell the corpses."

Yennefer ignored (F/N)'s comments, deep down she knew she felt his anger, "A tempting proposition. Sadly, I must say no. You see someone awaits you in Vizima. Someone who doesn't like to be kept waiting." (F/N) muttered, the word "Fuck" under his breath, even before she said who it was he knew, "Emperor Emhyr var Emreis...or to those on more intimate terms with him, the White Flame Dancing on the Graves of His Foes." 

(F/N) covered his eyes with his hands, no way was Geralt going to speak with the emperor. His master seemed to mirror his thoughts, "Doubt I number among that group. Far as I remember, last time we saw each other, he wanted to kill me. He probably still wants to kill him." Geralt gestured to (F/N) with his head, the young witcher just stared at his feet.

"Well, now he wishes to make you an offer."

Vesemir seemed more interested now, "The kind one can't refuse?"

Yennefer looked at the older witcher, "I didn't though I certainly could have."

(F/N) scoffed, and looked back at the sorceresses, "Oh I see, what did he promise you? Power? It wouldn't surprise me. You don't care about much else." Yennefer looked as though she wanted to yell at the young witcher or teleport him into a volcano, but instead she just looked at him, she couldn't do such things to him, no more than she could have done them to Ciri. Geralt looked at (F/N) to, but instead of doing nothing, he spoke in a stern quick voice saying one word, "Quiet."