Chapter 55: Episode 52

Disclaimer: I don't own Nasuverse or any other franchise that can be found in this fanfiction.

Words Count: 4894

Here's my usual spiel:

You can read about 20 Episodes in advanced, probably more, but who’s counting?

p a tr e on . com (/) LiamThePoor

A/N: If I can get some of you to nut this Ep, then my goal is accomplished, happy NNN.

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Compared to Olgierd and Henryk, Freya– The Mother was a far worse fight.

The woman had once been a Skelligen Shield-Maiden of little renown until she was captured and got pregnant with a Skelligen Warrior of an enemy Clan.

She even fell in love with him.

Indeed, it’s your typical, classic case of Stockholm Syndrome.

Obviously, as this was the Witcher-Verse, fairytales often didn’t have a good ending. Same went for Freya. After being saved by her Clansmen, the Shield-Maiden tried her best to protect her new ‘husband’ to no avail.

Her Clansmen murdered him, then the Clan’s Druid– A woman whose son was killed in the initial skirmish decided that if she couldn’t have her son, Freya who was carrying the enemy’s seeds should not be able to enjoy her children’s warmth either. Thus, the Druid cursed Freya’s twin-boys to be stillborn. Desperate, the Shield-Maiden made a pact with O’Dimm to… Revive the twins.

Sadly, as I had mentioned, there were rules even O’Dimm couldn’t break.

While resurrecting their bodies was entirely in his power, the twins were soulless husks, having been cursed to die as fetuses. So, he took two Lesser Demons and implanted them into the babes. I wasn’t made aware of all the details their pact pertained, but basically Freya would fulfill her bargain and give O’Dimm’s her Soul once the two boys died and she had nothing to live for anymore.

Sadly, the twins, possessed by Lesser Demons, barely had any intelligence and required flesh of humans to sustain themselves and even still, their forms were twisted beyond recognition. Hence why Freya moved into isolated areas like the swamps and mountains, occasionally letting her boys go down and kidnap travelling caravan for sustenance. Hell, the now insane former Shield-Maiden even joined the two from time to time to satiate her growing bloodlust.

Having murdered and cannibalized people for so many years, she was barely human at this point, making more growls and grunts than coherent speech. When I found the three, they were in the process of… Making more of themselves, if you catch my drift. It was a profoundly disgusting sight to behold, but nothing I hadn’t expected. Unlike Olgierd and Henryk, the two Lesser Demons weren’t exactly an obstacle.

Confined within those mortal forms, their powers were extremely limited, and I was able to destroy them with little to no effort. The next three Souls I had to collect weren’t much better. One sold his Soul for wealth, another to be successful, both were just your average humans with entourages of mercenaries following them, mercenaries who were obviously more loyal to their own lives rather than their employers.

The most recent was quite interesting, he had sold his Soul for the ability to conjure up his deceased wife, and for that, O’Dimm granted him an amulet capable of summoning the fallen. Unfortunately, he failed to understand O’Dimm was a Demon.

And a Demon couldn’t grant him the ability to summon the complete Souls of the deceased. He expected his wife back, instead what he got was a moaning mess of a zombie, barely able to get a sentence correctly. Thus, as with all tales like this, he began to dabble in Dark and Black Magics in hope of restoring her mental capacity back to what it once was.

To fuel and fund his research, the peasant-turned-Necromancer started targeting passing caravans to steal their coins, goods and corpses.

As a Necromancer, he was able to conjure up the usual skeletons, zombies,…etc. None was my opponent, but what’s really annoying was his Curses. Sure, they couldn’t actually break through my innate Magic Resistance, yet that did not make them any less irritating. It’s like that persistent itch you were aware was there, yet regardless of what you did and how hard you tried, it simply refused to let up no matter what.

At least, until I ripped the Necromancer’s head off in one smooth motion.

To be fair, he put up a decent fight and unlike every moustache-twirling, evil Necromancer in fictions ever, he actually tried to hide himself and distract me instead of cackling like a madman at his supposed ‘victory’. Even when the situation looked hopeless for me, he never appeared to gloat or belittle, which I could respect. He was a man with a goal, and he was willing to forgo the satisfaction in order to not jeopardize his goal.

Or as a famous franchise put it, ‘He is a man of focus, commitment and sheer fucking will.’

Shame those alone could not close the overwhelming gap in powers between us. Once I was able to locate him, none of his Curses and Undead minions could actually stop me from ripping him to pieces.

Knowing how crafty Mages could get, I checked on the Tarot Card assigned to him– The Fool, one constantly searching for something that could never be. “Six down…”

With a mutter of [Ansuz], my Mana took lightning shape and effortlessly incinerated the Necromancer’s animated head and his Undead minions. After watching the Card burn to ashes, I made for a quick exit with [Blink].

“One more to go and I can finally return to Nasuverse.” The last Soul to collect wasn’t going to be easy, O’Dimm’s exact words had been, ‘Traveler, I always leave the best for last.’

“Gabriel the Umbral Witch, huh?” I fiddled with the last Tarot Card, smiling wickedly. “Doesn’t matter, she will fall like the rest.”

As I gently set the Card aside, my heart shook with excitement as I gazed upon the shiny and pristine, newly-built Star-Gate. The Receiver Pearl was humming with Mana, collected by yours truly and a built-in mechanism that would suck Ambient Mana from the atmosphere. It irritated me that the path home was an Aria away and I was not allowed to use it. Being in the Witcher-Verse had been a novelty, but…

The longer I stayed, the more I hated this World, flaming hot Sorceresses or not.

Everyone, and I meant everyone was dirty all the fucking times. The peasants’ odor stank to high Heavens and they all looked at me like I was crazy for showering so regularly.

I clapped hands, dusting the Necromancer’s crushed skull off my palms, before turning to go upstairs. I wondered if Triss and Ciri were home.

Speaking of Ciri, since the ordeal with Henryk, I had steadfastly refused to allow her on the Missions. She was understandably upset at that, but I didn’t budge– I couldn’t. When Henryk had, for a lack of a better term, slapped the Witcheress, she was a mere hair’s breadth away from getting impaled on a tree branch and dying. Even then, there were still several, several hairline fractures on her lower-spine by the time I brought her to Triss to take a look.

She was out for days.

I knew she wasn’t going to die, Fate would not allow it.

It’s her Destiny to stop the White Frost or die trying.

Still, seeing the cheerful Witcheress pale and shaking on the bed had angered me something fierce. It’s the same feeling I got when Rin was attacked by Ragnarok, the very same when I heard the Crones’ Sylvan– That fat blob use the nickname Gil had given me. It wasn’t quite the protective need I had for something, or someone I considered mine, but an obsession. A sensation that made me burn with rage. If Henryk hadn’t died, I had little doubt I’d have been more than willing to enjoy a long torture-session with him.

My mind was a gutter– One filled with ideas on how to torture someone and achieve the maximum amount of pain, and what I did to the Le Blanc? It barely tapped that endless, gushing fountain of ideas. When I came back for the peasants, I had even hoped… Hoped that Henryk was still alive so I could draw out his sufferings, but I supposed sending his Soul to the Devil himself would have to suffice for a punishment.

I swept my hair back, tiredly getting up the stairs. The abandoned building we took over had four floors.

Triss’ laboratory was on the third floor, mine in the basement and the bedrooms where we slept were located on the second, which was my destination. In order to fulfill my part of the pact with O’Dimm, I had been running myself a little haggard, and even with my Superhuman Physiology, if I kept doing this, I’d collapse sooner or later and that’s not good. Especially since I did plan to activate the Star-Gate the moment the pact was fulfilled.

For all my calculations and proficiency with the Elder Blood, there was always a chance for something to go wrong, for the Gate to mess up my destination, and should that happen, and I was flung across the endless expanse of the Multiverse, I must be in fighting shape at least, or I’d be an easy target for whichever horrors the Multiverse had in store for me. And, knowing my Luck, I’d not be surprised if the Gate dropped in front of Cthulhu or some shits.

I scratched my chin, musing. ‘Did I just jinx myself?’

“Back already?” On the first floor, Triss– My ever saucy Sorceress, was having dinner, if you could call that a meal. It was more of a bowl of slobs made from oatmeal and goat-milk, but I digressed. Dressed in her DLC outfit, a green dress with low, V-cut neckline and beautiful golden threads embroidered into the silks, she was so… Alluring. “Yes, I’ll make dinner later, I need to get myself cleaned up first.”

I winked at the Sorceress, asking teasingly. “Care to join me?”

Obviously, I didn’t expect her to agree, but… Triss gestured at her bowl. “How about you fill up the tub, and I’ll get in once I’m done with this?”

“Seriously?” I questioned, blinking owlishly. Her smile was both oddly innocent and seductive somehow. The glimmering crown on her head, despite being a rather unnecessarily gaudy piece of accessory, gave the Sorceress a refreshing sense of elegance I couldn’t quite capture using mere words. It highlighted her flaming mane of hair and the pink dusting her cheeks as she smiled– A smile that told me everything I needed to know.

I wanted nothing more than to peel the dress off of her.

To kiss every square inch of those delicious curves, to taste not only her upper-lips, but her lower ones as well, to make her moan and mewl my name, and to sully what remained of her light and cheeriness, but I- I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. It would have been so, so easy to take advantage of her in this state, yet I did not want our first time to be like this. Hence, disregarding the voices screaming at me to accept her offer, I asked. “Triss, are you drunk?”

She bit her lip, gazing at her empty cup, and only then did I notice the bottles strewn across the table and floor, having been too distracted by how gorgeous she was before.

Just like that, the Spell was broken.

What I saw wasn’t the seemingly eternally cheerful, charismatic and confident Sorceress, who had staved off the Wild Hunt in another timeline without my presence, withstood being burnt alive until her skin melted and hair turned to naught but ashes. No, what I saw was a heartbroken woman, drinking her bodyweight’s worth of alcohols in an attempt to drown out her sorrows, with marred mascara and tear-marks streaking down her cheeks. “Triss, what’s wrong.”

I pulled the wobbly chair next to her. It was an old, ugly, burnt thing, which normally wouldn’t hold up my weight, but with [Reinforcement], I was able to extend its lifespan for a bit. As I patted the redheaded Sorceress on the back, I felt her fight a sob and snuggle into my neck. “I’m such a selfish, pathetic strumpet.”

She choked, hands wrapping around my neck as tears and snots wet my shirt. “– I knew they were– Are in love…” She corrected tearfully. Triss wasn’t quite wailing, but it was a close thing. “But I just- I can’t help it. I’ve tried to distract myself, I did- I did, but he- I–!”

I sighed, realizing Geralt must have caught up to us. Despite Triss’ insistence that she no longer had feelings for him, I knew for a fact that wasn’t true. It’s more like an act to preserve her friendship with Yennefer and Geralt. Again, that unreasonable rage flared up in my chest, like a ravenous monster seeking retribution upon those who had her cry. I ruthlessly stomped on it. Affection couldn’t be forced, it’s not the White Wolf’s fault he loved Yen more than he did Triss.

Yet, it refused to listen to reasons, so I had to coax it by saying if the Witcher had returned Triss’ feelings, our chance with her would have been lost, and only then did it settle down somewhat. “Shush… I know, it’s okay, the heart’s not always as keen as the head, it can be selfish and uncooperative, and that’s okay.”

I sincerely believed that notion.

I had been in that situation before, in love with my friend’s girl, and it’s tough. Having to see them hand-in-hand, kissing while I sat alone, stewing in my lovesickness and wondering if I had had the courage to ask her out before him, if I had been less of a coward, would things between us have turned out different?

It’s a horrible thing to experience, and those who blamed the Sorceress for this clearly had not ever been in a similarly hopeless situation. “It’s selfish to be in love your friend’s… Spouse, but it’s also a human thing. Beside, why can’t we be selfish once in a while? When has being selfless ever helped anyone?”

It might be an unpopular opinion, sure. Still, that did not make it any less true. Historically, selfless people had always, always been the ones to suffer the most pain. Constantly fearing for others’ benefits and forgetting their own, only to be taken advantage of by those they adored and trusted. Every now and then, a few would be hailed and sung about for their dedication and loyalty, but who fucking cared?

What’s the point when the hurts had planted their roots and you were already gone? An example was Jeanne d’Arc– The Maid of Orleans, the Saintess, the same who was burnt on a pyre for her supposed ‘crimes’ of protecting her people…

She fought, bled and suffered for France’s soils, never asking for anything in return, only to be betrayed, abandoned by the very people she had aspired to protect. How many Frenchmen and women had stood up in her defense then? How many were willing to stick out their necks and return the favor? Exactly, none.

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And if that’s the case, if all being selfless ever led to were pains and hurts, why shouldn’t we be selfish?

I narrowed my eyes, fingers sliding down Triss’ smooth and exposed neck, all the way to her back and waist. She trembled slightly, sending butterflies fluttering in my chest. To distract myself from the pair of breasts pressing against me, I grabbed her cup, emptying the rest of its content– The diluted Moonshine onto the floor. I’d wipe that clean later, I told myself, knowing full-well I’d most likely forget about it. Triss was beyond drunk, and it would negatively affect her health if I allowed her to continue.

Thus, my arm slithered under her knees, while the other gently supporting her back and set out. “C’mon, let’s get you some sleep. You’ll feel better come morning, I’m sure.”

Triss laughed and giggled like a little girl as I held her in my arms, finding the princess-carry amusing no doubt, especially since I only stood to her mouth. I couldn’t wait for this growth spurt to finish, I was growing in height by the day and it wouldn’t be too long until I surpassed the ashen-haired Witcheress, who was two, three inches taller than Triss herself. I rolled my eyes, patting her hair. It’s soft, like the fur of a well-cared for Samoyed. “Alright, settle down before you make us both fall.”

That’s not gonna happen.

With her sluggish struggles and movements, I might as well be a still statue for the drunk Sorceress, but I was afraid she would–!

Triss pulled my head down, those pretty blue gems staring intensely at my mouth. She muttered weakly, as if to reassure herself and forced her lips unto mine. She smelled of cherry and tasted of a refreshing sweetness mixed with saltiness of her tears. “Once… Just, just once.”

If kissing Gilgamesh was like an intense exercise, with us both fighting for domination over the other, then the kiss with Triss was soft, soul-shaking. Even when our tongues slipped out in search of a partner, it never felt like we were restlessly pushing and pulling, but gently prodding and coiling in an elegant dance instead. It was an… Interesting experience to say the least. I knew myself, I acted like a hungry beast when it came to sexual activities.

I was oftentimes too eager and forceful, as though I wanted to swallow my partner whole.

Yet, in this moment, all I wanted was to caress the Sorceress and show her how beautiful and appreciated she was. She needed the boost in confidence, and I was certainly willing to give her that and more. I pushed her on the stairs, hands sliding down her shoulders, arms then chest. These bouncy things were even softer than I had imagined, it was like my palms and fingers were sinking into marshmallows. I poked and prodded her nipples…

It's not my fault, I didn’t want to take advantage, but she tempted me.

Triss wasn’t wearing a bra, at least not according to my sense of touch, and I was right.

As I peeled the dress down to her chest, I saw her pink buds hidden beneath mere thin-sheets of golden coverings.

Carefully, I peeled those off as she mewled with insatiable lust, her mouth capturing mine once more.

I felt her hands snake into my pants, fiddling with the zipper in sexual frustration. “How do I take this–?”

I hushed, whispering in her ear as it twitched and reddened even further. “Here, let me undo it for you, Firefly.”

“Firefly?” Triss repeated questioningly and I laughed teasingly. “I just like giving nicknames to people, and I thought it’s a fitting one to describe your radiance and cheery personality. Do you like it?”

The Sorceress blushed. I honestly didn’t think her face could get any redder, but I guessed I was wrong, and for the first time, I didn’t feel embarrassed about it. She made to reply, just as I got under her dress and pressed on her damp panties. With my fingers constantly brushing her lower bud, even an experienced Sorceress like Triss couldn’t contain a long, drawn-out sigh of pleasure and relief, as though an invisible tension was being blissfully drained from her. “Y- Ahhh- Yes, I- Ohhh- I love it.”

Then, I reached to grab her firm, yet bountiful ass and carried her upstairs like that.

As I discarded her dress, leaving her bare to my eyes, the noises of people walking, conversing and going about their nightly routine outside the abandoned building sank into nothingness as our turned into a mesh of colors, wanton moans, lust and…

——◇  [Fate: DML] ◇——

Cirilla of Cintra was a happy Witcheress.

No, scratch that. Happy wouldn’t come close to describing her feelings at the moment.

With the ever-threatening presence of the Wild Hunt gone, and only her sperm-donor, Emhyr– The incestuous Emperor of Nilfgaard to deal with, the weights on her shoulders had been lightened considerably. She felt free! Or… Well, freer than she would have been if the matter with the Spectral Riders hadn’t been resolved.

Heck, she was even reunited with her father and friend– The Elven Sage Avallac’h!

The White Wolf of Rivia had practically come strolling into their humble and temporary abode where her and Triss were staying with the regularly missing Sorcerer Leonis, and tugged under his arm was the cursed Sage.

It had hurt, seeing the ever calm and confident Elf reduced to boils-ridden, sniveling dwarf hunchback, but it was all fine, because her surrogate sister, Triss had been more than able to restore him to his original form. And all it had taken was a few potions and the destruction of the Phylactery to break Eredin’s Curse. Hence, hours later, Avallac’h was back, albeit in a coma. Things were looking up for the Witcheress!

She was one-step closer to achieving her lifelong, much desired dream of freedom.

The Witcheress even spent the entire night celebrating and drinking with her friends and adoptive father. It was a glorious night, minus the last hour wasted on a drunken rampage, violently puking and flushing the alcohols out of her system.

Sadly, Geralt had denied her invitation to go live with her and their mutual Sorceress friend. Ciri had an inkling as to why, having bore witness to her father’s rejection of Triss last night, just a few minutes prior to their outing. The Witcheress was conflicted, on one hand was Yennefer, the only motherly figure she had ever had, albeit a distant one.

On the other was her surrogate sister, the very woman who had taught her magics, politics and how to handle her… Coming-of-age problems when she was younger. Granted, it might be better this way, being rejected so steadfastly might help Triss move on. Still, watching the Sorceress leaving, defeated and dejected, was not a sight she ever wanted to see again. “Hopefully, she’s feeling better today.”

The Witcheress slammed open the door to their abode, the headache and hang-over causing her to be much more forceful than she had intended as the entire thing nearly broke off from its frame. Accompanying that was the yelp from a woman, whom she immediately recognized as Triss. The Sorceress seemed to be sneaking downstairs, very much naked and… Sweaty. “I see I’m not the only who has had a terrific night. So, who’s the lucky man?”

Ciri chuckled, teasing. She was genuinely happy for the Sorceress.

A few more nights like this and she might just forget about the rejection.

Triss swiftly brought a finger to her lips, making a hushing gesture and Ciri obeyed, throwing her arms up in mock surrender. “It- It’s Leonis.”

“What?!” Now that was a surprise. She had known the Sorcerer was attracted to Triss, but she hadn’t thought he would get anywhere, seeing as he was still rather young, but it would appear she was mistaken. Leonis had more moves than she gave him credit for. “Shush! It’s Leonis. I’m not sure what happened last night, but I woke up naked in my laboratory with him by my side… Oh Gods–”

The attractive Sorceress clutched her head. “I’m a selfish strumpet and a cradle-robber. What’s wrong with me?!”

“Relax, Triss. It’s fine, Leonis consented to it… He did consent, right?” The Witcheress approached, snatching the dress at the bottom of the stairs and offering it to the redheaded Sorceress. “I- I don’t know. I think he did, but I can’t be sure. Last night was just a blur. All I remember is kissing him when he was trying to bring me upstairs.”

“Oh…?” The Witcheress leaned in closer, nose almost touching Triss’. “Was he any good? He’s young so his thing ”

The Sorceress blushed. “He- He’s mostly gentle and rough when necessary, I suppose? But that’s not the point! The point’s–!”

“Point is, the sex was so mind-blowing her thoughts were barely coherent at the time.” From upstairs came the topic of their current discussion, a shirtless Sorcerer who was in the process of putting on his clothes. Ciri supposed she couldn’t call him young now, seeing as since the Witcher Trials, he had grown close to Triss’ height, and the once developing abs were now rock-hard. “Leonis!”

Triss shouted embarrassedly, clutching the clearly expensive green dress to her chest to cover her naked body. The Sorcerer grinned wickedly, licking his lips, eyes distant as though reminiscing about last night. “Triss, I promise if there’s anything I haven’t seen last night, I’ll throw a coin at it.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Triss scowled, though Ciri would bet good coins it was out of embarrassment more than actual anger. The Sorcerer’s grin widened, smugness practically radiating off him in waves. “You mean you don’t want to hear about how we didn’t do the dirty?”

“”WHAT?”” Both Ciri and Triss yelled, obviously confused. If they didn’t have sex, then why were the two naked? “Hmmm… Does ‘doing the dirty’ not mean sex on this planet? I meant we didn’t do ‘the Devil’s tango’, we didn’t practice ‘the bird and the bees’, we didn’t ‘tumble in bed’. Do those make it clearer for you two? The most we did was going to third base.”

Triss blinked owlishly. “So you’re telling you, someone who has attempted to court me from day one, didn’t have the opportunity to have sex with me when I was throwing myself at you?”

“You were throwing yourself at him?” Ciri laughed, setting her blades on the table. The Sorceress stuttered. “Well- Well, I was sad and wanted someone to distract me.”

Leonis, having put on his outfit, sat down next to Ciri, clutching his heart. “Triss, I’m hurt. Is that all I mean to you? A rebound guy?”

Triss rolled her eyes, snorting. “Yes, now explain.”

With a wave of his hand, Leonis reached into a cyan portal, pulling out a cup with black liquid inside it. He had called the… Concoction coffee. Apparently, it was supposed to make you more sober and ready for another day. Ciri couldn’t understand why someone would ever invent something so ridiculous. Life’s as shit as it was, why would anyone wanted to be sober for it? “What? You mean you don’t remember being given oral by me, squirting on my face and then retching all over my clean, white shirt?”

At that, both women blushed, with Ciri slowly palming her face. “You don’t have to be that blunt.”

“And miss your frankly adorable reactions? Absolutely not.” The Witcheress couldn’t see his face, but she had a feeling her Sorcerer friend was having a very smug look on his face, so she punched him lightly on the arm, gaining a small yelps from him. “So we didn’t…?”

“No, I did not put ‘Little Leonis’ in you, but my tongue did get familiar with your cave, love.” Leonis touched his lips almost seductively, a devilish smirk plastered on his face. “I must say, you tasted absolutely delicious. In fact, I’m not sure if I want my morning dose of caffeine if it means washing the taste off my tongue.”

He stressed, looking playfully in the direction if the currently flushing Triss. So what they said was true, in order to flutter an experienced woman, you must be as shameless and as blunt as possible, Ciri noted before hazy, tipsy mind brought up images of what had happened here while she was gone in vivid details. The Witcheress was no blushing virgin maiden, but the thoughts of the attractive Mages getting it on did make her hot and bothered.

In truth, she was a bisexual.

It’s not something she went around advertising, but those close to her all knew, and it had been so long since the last time she was allowed to enjoy herself.

Hell, she hadn’t even had sex with someone of the opposite sex yet in fear of getting pregnant, which would have made avoiding the Hunt that much harder. There were moments, times and men Ciri had found incredibly attractive, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it thanks to the same fear. But now, she no longer had to worry about it anymore, did she? All that’s stopping her was the mental barrier she had put up, which was crumbling fast.

After all, the Hunt was gone, and she could do whatever and whoever she wished, right?

‘Maybe Triss and Leonis can… Help.’ She blushed brightly at the thought, avoiding Leonis’ knowing gaze as he got up and walked to the kitchen. “Wait here, I’ll fix ourselves something to eat and- Uhmm- If you ladies ever feel the need…”

He winked cheekily, the seemingly innocent and boyish gesture sending shivers down Ciri’s spine, and from the look of it, Triss’ as well. Thankfully, the Sorceress had the foresight to telekinetically throw a harmless trinket at Leonis, chasing him away. Only then, was Ciri’s breathing regulated as she fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair. The moment he was gone, uncomfortable silence descended on both women.

Not knowing what to say, they could only tolerate it and look down at their laps, pretending the other didn’t exist. Yet, in her mind, all sort of thoughts, images and sensations of what she thought Triss’ bouncy breasts and Leonis’ abs would feel on the tips of her fingers passed through Ciri’s mind.

“Oh Gods…” The Witcheress groaned beneath her breath.

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