Rinde, 1256
The sky instantly cleared and silence fell upon the partially ruined house. Jaskier stared up at the wrecked stone, waiting for some sort of sign that Robin and Geralt were still alive.
But there was nothing. Nothing at all.
"This can't be happening," Jaskier murmured. "This can't be happening."
****
Inside, Robin yelped as she and Geralt fell. She'd managed to portal them both to the lower floor, and they each appeared to be in one piece.
She closed her eyes and went limp, beyond exhausted. Geralt rested against her, holding her tightly.
A moment later, he quickly scrambled up, taking his weight off of her. "Robin?" he gasped, breathing hard.
He bent to make sure she was breathing too, sighing in relief as he felt the shallow puff of warm air against his ear. "Robin?" he repeated, brushing her hair back from her face. All of it had come loose in the wind. "It's me, little mage. Geralt," he murmured.
He checked her torso where her wound had been and found no trace of it, thankfully, so at least he knew it wasn't that.
Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him radiantly. "I know who you are, Geralt," she answered teasingly, giggling.
He smiled back, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. "I almost lost you," he whispered, his heart beating faster than he'd ever felt at the thought.
"It's okay," she soothed him. "Because you saved my life."
"No, little mage," he disagreed. "I failed to protect you. She hurt you."
"Did the djinn escape?" she wondered. "Will it be dangerous now that it has no vessel?"
He shook his head. "No, little mage. A djinn is only a dark creature when it's held captive."
She tilted her head curiously. "Oh? How can you be so sure?"
He shrugged. "When did you last feel happy when you felt trapped?" he asked heavily.
One of his tears fell on her face. She reached up and touched the damp spot reverently.
"Geralt of Rivia," she breathed softly, "is that why you can't sleep?"
His eyes widened in alarm. "What? Are... are you reading my mind?"
She laughed. The sound was back to normal, and it calmed his ragged nerves. "Not magically," she assured him. "I just know you."
He stared down at her, smiling slightly.
"You didn't fail to protect me, Geralt. If anything, I failed to protect you. But we both did our best, and in the end, you saved my life, and I won't have you saying it was any other way."
He hung his head, his silver hair falling around their faces.
"Do you really think I feel trapped, Geralt?"
"You've been trapped since you met me."
"You're wrong." She raised a finger to his lips to silence him before he could argue. "I have never felt trapped by you. You have always offered your help willingly, and the only thing you've ever demanded in return is that I do my fair share of the work. You have never pressured me to stay. You were even willing to let me remain with Triss, remember?"
She smoothed his hair back briefly, then let it fall back into place again. "I know that our time together won't last forever, Geralt. I know that once we manage to stop Yennefer, I have some big decisions to make about my life. But until then, we are in this together. By choice, Geralt."
Her lips parted, but she quickly bit the lower one so she wouldn't speak. She wanted to tell him that she loved him so badly, but she couldn't. Not now, especially. If she said it now, he'd assume she was addled and didn't mean it. And if she said it later, he'd react badly, just as she'd always imagined, and she'd lose him forever.
He noticed her hesitation, of course. "What is it, little mage?"
Her eyes welled up with tears. "I was afraid," she admitted truthfully. "When she stabbed me, I thought that was it. I thought I'd never see you or Jaskier again. And when she was trying to put the djinn inside me, I could feel myself slipping away as it cracked my bones. I don't know which was worse."
"When she was in you," he confessed hoarsely, "it was terrifying. You smelled wrong, you sounded wrong, you moved wrong. And I wanted to hurt her so badly because of what she was doing to you, but I couldn't. I hated it."
Her eyes widened in alarm. "Do I smell right now?"
Geralt smiled and nodded, brushing his nose against hers softly. "Yes. Like lavender and mint. You're my little mage again."
"At least my magic worked," she added wryly. "I kept us all shielded so she couldn't learn more than she already had. And my portal worked for us, which is frankly shocking."
"You did well," he complimented her.
"I was powerless again, Geralt. She's so strong."
"You weren't powerless, Robin. Before, you wouldn't have even been able to hide our minds. Don't disparage yourself unnecessarily."
"But I..."
Geralt bent and silenced her with a kiss. She breathed in slowly, gasping as calm and warmth flooded her, reaching up and cupping his face in her hands, stroking her thumb tenderly over the injury on his cheek that was slowly healing.
He kissed her over and over, unable to resist. Upstairs, he had almost watched her die, but now she was whole and in his arms, and he never wanted to let her go.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling it back from his face as they kissed more and more ardently. Geralt shifted, spreading his legs and placing one on either side of her, his body dipping until it touched hers.
She groaned as she felt that he was fully hard, rolling her hips up into him. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and turning onto his back so she was sitting firmly on his crotch.
She ground down against him as she pulled Yennefer's dress off and threw it across the room, then scooted back so she could undo his trousers. He helped her, laughing when she got frustrated and simply pulled a button right off of his pants.
"Why do these damn things have so many buttons anyway, Geralt?" she complained.
"I didn't pick them, remember?" he rumbled.
"Don't remind me," she demanded, crawling down him, tugging on the trousers as she went.
He carefully set aside his amulet, burning his fingers slightly, then took off the jacket and everything else, tossing them away just like the dress, burying his fingers in her hair and pulling it loose just as she sat down on him, taking him fully inside her in one stroke.
"Fuck, little mage!" he growled, holding onto her hips, helping her move them in a hard, steady rhythm as they resumed kissing, each battling for control of the other's lips.
****
Jaskier had fallen to his knees outside. "What am I supposed to do now, hm?" he asked himself, wiping tears from his cheeks. "It wasn't supposed to go this way. You were both supposed to lose me long before I lost you."
He sniffled and started to cry harder, suddenly unable to stop himself. Chireadan was slowly walking the perimeter of the house, peering in all of the windows, periodically glancing up at the collapsed top floor.
"I'm gonna write you both... the best song..." Jaskier blubbered. "So that everyone remembers who you were, what we did, everything we saw."
Chireadan paused at one of the windows, his eyes widening as he was treated to a very intimate view of Geralt and Robin locked together, completely naked and sweaty, her generous breasts bouncing as she rode him.
The elf tilted his head wistfully, thinking fondly of Yennefer as Robin bent to kiss Geralt and the witcher cupped the back of her head tenderly in his hand.
"And I will sing it," Jaskier continued, "for the rest of my days."
Chireadan walked back over to join him. Jaskier tilted his face up to the elf and said, "Geralt always said I had the most wonderful singing voice. And his opinion matters more, of course, because my sister was horribly, though fairly, biased."
The elf smiled and reached down to touch the bard's shoulder. "They're alive," he informed him.
Jaskier blinked and raised an eyebrow. He looked up at the house, then back to Chireadan. "Bollocks," he disagreed, getting up and marching towards where the elf had just been standing.
"You might not want to..." Chireadan started, but it was too late.
"Geralt? Robin?" Jaskier called, halting as he reached his destination.
He stood in front of the window, looking in. He was just in time to see Geralt flip his sister onto her back and sling her legs over his shoulders so he could take over and pound into her with reckless abandon.
"Oh," he breathed in relief. "They're alive."
As his sister cried out, Jaskier tilted his head so far to the side that he almost tipped over.
While he didn't actively try to catch Geralt and Robin having sex, he couldn't admit to not being curious about the witcher's prowess and technique. And at the moment, he had a perfect view of the man's powerful thighs pumping, the impressive muscles in his back bunching as he moved.
He blinked rapidly. Not for the first time, he was rather jealous of his sister for finding Geralt first.
Chireadan joined him, gazing in the window again and then looking at Jaskier. "You're just going to watch?" he questioned. "Isn't that your sister?"
Jaskier nodded. "Yes, but he's not related to me, and what a man he is," the bard sighed. "Look at that. Perfect specimen."
They both stared as Geralt sat back, lifting Robin into his lap and moving her legs so they were around his waist. She clung to him, letting him move her, kissing him and moaning loudly as they writhed together.
"They're really alive!" Jaskier decided as Geralt roared and finished, pushing up into Robin as she screamed his name. "Whoo!"
He reared back and placed a hand on his chest as Geralt flipped her again and kept going. "I mean, he..."
He stumbled to the side as Chireadan grabbed him and dragged him away.
He was willing to admit that it was probably for his own good at that point.
****
Several minutes later, Robin lay gasping in Geralt's arms. She had come three times and he had come twice.
Now they were both on their sides. Her thigh was draped over his, his arms were around her waist, and he was gazing into her eyes as she smoothed his hair back.
She laughed lightly. "You have certainly taught me a lot about pleasure during our time together, Geralt of Rivia."
He laughed along with her. "You're a quick learner," he observed, "and quite creative."
She kissed him sweetly. "I do my best."
She watched him tenderly for another moment, then licked her lips. "Just in case I've never said it in so many words, Geralt, I'm not leaving until you ask me to. I respect that you'll want your solitary life back eventually. You've certainly put up with a lot over the years in the pursuit of stopping Yennefer. But I have enjoyed every moment of it, and I don't want it to end until it absolutely has to."
He blinked at her in surprise. "Truly, Robin?"
"Truly." She kissed him again, then rolled her eyes. "I mean, except maybe that whole djinn thing that just happened. I didn't really enjoy that."
He threw his head back and laughed heartily, then curled closer to her, resting his head on her chest.
"I'm sorry, by the way," she continued, "that you didn't get to use the djinn to wish for sleep."
But he didn't respond to her. When she glanced down, she realized that he was already asleep, his head pillowed against her bare breasts.
She laughed to herself, then kissed his forehead and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.
She had no idea what had calmed him. Perhaps he had merely been so exhausted by the whole encounter with Yennefer that he'd finally succumbed. It really didn't matter to her at the moment. She just wanted him to get some rest.
As Geralt slept against her chest, he dreamed of only one thing.
She had said she wouldn't leave until he asked her to, and he was imagining never asking.