Note: As always I removed the part where people are getting it on due to rating etc. Full version still on A03. Adds absolutely nothing content-wise and can be skipped. A terribly tense threesome – May 1283 (2/2)

Eskel woke slowly. For a few moments longer he was able to cling to that sweet state of half-sleep and half-consciousness where everything was beautiful, light and easy. His body felt weightless, his mind calm. A soft breeze washed over his naked skin and he briefly wondered who had undressed him.

He blinked his eyes open, at first confused by his surroundings before the memory of the previous night returned.

Kit was sleeping on her side, facing him. Her hand held onto his wrist, sending cool waves through his body that made him feel relaxed. For once he did not perceive the pain in his leg. He could hardly believe it.

Only now that the pain was gone did he realize how accustomed he had grown to it.

Moreover, he noticed that there seemed to be no repercussions from last night's little excess. His head felt perfectly fine when he should have experienced a soul-crushing hangover.

From the hand that held his wrist, his eyes followed the path up Kit's arm. Geralt had nuzzled himself impossibly close to her, his big body towering over hers as one muscular arm was wrapped around her slender waist. He had intertwined his legs with hers, pushing one knee in between her legs. The way he had curled himself around the smaller Kit looked uncomfortable at first, obsessive even. It might have been the most aggressive way Eskel had ever seen anyone cuddle another person. Even when he slept, it seemed, Geralt was focused on protecting her.

But on second glance there was something undeniably special in that, something that he envied them for.

Geralt started to twitch in his sleep, murmured something incomprehensible. Eskel knew him well enough to realize that his brother had a nightmare of the more intense variety. Sleeping together in tight quarters as boys for countless nights did teach you these kinds of things.

The movement made Kit stir immediately. Eskel was not sure whether or not she actually woke up but somehow she managed to disentangle her legs from Geralt's while letting go of Eskel, then turned around in her protector's arms, pushing him from his side onto his back, just to snuggle up to that broad chest, one arm thrown over his hips, hand resting on his abdomen, her legs finding yet another way to form a knot with those of her lover.

Geralt calmed down immediately and squeezed Kit a little tighter to his chest, making her sigh.

It was time to leave them alone, Eskel thought. They looked weirdly beautiful huddled together like this and he did not want to overstay his welcome.

Carefully, he lifted himself out of the bed. He already missed the cooling touch provided by Kit but he felt better, so much better. The moment he moved his leg, he noticed that the pain was still there but it felt dull and far away compared to those past few weeks. Eskel did not care that everybody insisted that Kit was not a sorceress. The healing she had done for him – it was magic.

He carefully set one foot on the cold stone floor and then the other, before he got up, grabbed his things and took a last look at the sleeping couple. What a lucky bastard Geralt was. Not only had he gotten himself a healer but also someone who seemed to truly adore him, even in her sleep.

Eskel did not know her very well but just by looking at them, at the knot of limbs they formed and the way their bodies shaped themselves to the other one so perfectly, he had a feeling she might be there for a while. And he was happy for his brother.

With a step lighter than it had been in weeks, he left them to return to his former resting place near the kitchen. By the time he arrived downstairs his sensitive ears picked up the soft sounds of the couple, driven by their affection for each other, in the silent morning hour.

"Didn't leave one moment too early," he said to himself. "Not one moment too early."

When he put on his pants he noticed that the swelling in his leg had gone down which just increased his good mood. After he had dressed, he bent over a small basin that he had set up to wash himself. In the reflection of the shallow water, even his face seemed less ugly to him. It was a good morning, he decided.

Eskel proceeded to make himself some breakfast from the supplies Geralt and Kit had brought with them. He felt they owed him for making him listen to whatever they did up there – even though they had immediately put their food on the table and offered it to him anyway.

It was a while before the two of them came downstairs.

"I will not be sleeping in that bed with you again," Eskel greeted them, not looking up, while chewing on some bread.

"Neither will we. The bed broke," Geralt informed him nonchalantly.

"But there are more beds, right?" Kit asked as she sat down, yawning.

"Two or three should still be usable…" Eskel grimaced.

"Eskel?" Geralt interrupted him when his brother looked at them.

"Shit," Kit murmured, staring at him as well.

"What? You've made me plenty uncomfortable for a day, I'd appreciate it if you could stop looking at me like that."

Geralt looked at Kit who only shrugged.

"I have no idea, honestly," she answered the unspoken question.

"What?!" Eskel asked louder this time.

"Have you seen your face?"

"What about it?" He started feeling it aimlessly. "Did something bite me?"

"Your scars are nearly gone," Geralt informed him, a hint of astonishment in his voice.

Eskel cocked his head and for a moment considered if Geralt had maybe gone insane. Still, he ran his hand across his face – indeed the skin felt differently. He went back to his wash basin and took another look at his reflection. Only now did he realize it had not been his good mood that had made him think his face looked different when he had washed it just a short while ago. The scars had indeed smoothed out a lot.

"I don't understand. I thought you were healing my leg." He looked at Kit, confused, before he returned his gaze to his reflection.

"Like I said, I don't really have any control. Chances are, I worked on a lot of things inside of you that could use some fixing. You probably have a whole lot of internal scarring that you don't even know about. Potentially a lot of damage to your liver as well because of the potions. It was the same with him," she said, nodding at Geralt.

"Changed my mind. I'm going to share a bed with the two of you until you have broken even the last one." He shook his head and sat back down at the table, staring at Kit in amazement.

"What are your plans once your leg is fully healed?" Geralt later asked with his mouth full of food.

"Back on the path of course. What else is there to do?"

"You could come with us," Geralt suggested.

"And go where?"

"To Toussaint. To Corvo Bianco. There are a few empty houses that we could fix up for you to live in."

"Sounds tempting…" Eskel admitted but there was doubt in his voice. "Not sure though what I would do all day."

"Toussaint always needs another knight-errand or something like that. You keep doing what you always did but with a regular salary and a home to return to," Kit chimed in.

"You said it yourself: The world is running out of monsters to fight," Geralt argued. "And if you don't like it, you can always leave."

Dear reader,

Have you ever been to the catacombs in Paris? Darkness, crooked paths and labyrinths, skulls and skeletons stacked on top of each other with mesmerizing accuracy. History has never felt more alive than down there, never have I gotten a better feeling for the past.

Colosseum? Yeah, sure, nice. But I didn't exactly feel the presence of gladiators, of audiences starved and starved for entertainment. That place, like so many others I had seen, felt empty to me. Disconnected from its history. Because sometimes a pile of old stones is just that: a pile of old stones. Though, if you take tourists as indicator then some rubble seems to be superior to other rubble.

I don't know why I thought it would be any different now just because I'm looking at rubble in another world. The old watchtower, the destroyed bastion, just old stones. Geralt did his best to describe how things used to be but I had a hard time imagining it, even when he showed me all the nooks and crannies where he and his friends had carved something into the walls (apparently graffiti, too, transcends time and space). Maybe the problem was that – apart from Eskel – he was the only witcher I had ever met. Even after having seen all of it, I have a hard time imagining that there used to be so many of them. Geralt has never been a witcher to me. He's just Geralt. A man. My man.

But I saw the change on Geralt's face, saw the wrinkles around his eyes deepen for a moment when his fingers ran over some initials carved into a wall. Whoever left them there was dead now, that much I understood. Then again, wasn't exactly that the issue? The entire place was so devoid of life, that it was hard to imagine that it used to be different.

Eskel was the one who, more than anything, managed to get me a new impression of Geralt. The way they joked around, started sparring as soon as I had healed Eskel's wounds completely – the familiarity between the two of them added something that at least partially enabled me to imagine their way of life because their friendship was irrefutable proof of their past.

Eskel grew on me much faster than Dandelion by the way as he's considerably less of a self-absorbed diva and pain in the ass. I'm glad we ran into him, I think Geralt needed that.

Also, it means that I'm sharing my bed with two handsome men now instead of just one. But then again, none of us gets to have sex, so maybe it isn't as good of a deal after all…

Isn't it funny how you can sleep next to someone, be as intimate with each other as two people can possibly be and still don't know all their secrets? I had no idea that Geralt was struggling with nightmares, something that is so far from me because he makes me feel so very safe. I have absolute trust in him, more than he has in himself apparently. Eskel, however, seems to be helping him with that too. Geralt, as far as I can tell, seems to have calmed down again – I might not have the sense of hearing of a witcher but I picked up my name occasionally during the past few days when the two of them talked. Whatever Eskel said to him, it did something. We'll have to see about the rest.

It is odd how the tables have turned. Just a few months ago I was scared, so very scared that I wouldn't go anywhere without Geralt. And now I'm fine. Maybe the secret is that I know for sure nothing will ever happen to me while he's around. It's a shame he doesn't see that.

On another note: Witchers, when brought together, are absolutely as idiotic as any normal men. Those dummies just love to get themselves in mortal danger. That's my opinion anyway, Geralt and Eskel probably just considered it day-to-day business when we got on our horses and followed the trace of some dragon-thingies for nearly an entire day. Which is a very boring thing to do if you don't like looking for and fighting these aerial lizards. But they were happy and determined to extract some vengeance for the injury that they had caused Eskel.

There is a lesson to be learned from that: Don't mess with a witcher, they'll pay you back and you won't be able to refuse. I watched from a safe distance as the two of them fulfilled what I can only assume is their destiny.

Anyway, as you can imagine dear reader, I was absolutely thrilled when they returned all caked in blood and dust and other slimy-grimy stuff. Geralt proudly showed me one of the beasts' severed heads. I was close to calling him a good boy and give him a cookie.

While his enthusiasm was adorable, he was not and I sent both of them to bathe in a nearby lake.

Some things will always stay the same, even in another world. And "boys will be boys" certainly is one of these things. Even if the boys are +100-year-old men who like to slay things.

Anyway, since my boys got a little banged up, we continued our involuntary threesome at night. For the sake of Eskel we even refrained from destroying more beds. These witcher ears are just unbelievably fine-tuned.

It could be worse. At least Eskel is a good sport and doesn't mind that we call him porcelain face now that he has no more scars.

"Do you think he'll be joining us?" Kit asked a few days later when she and Geralt were walking along a narrow path. Geralt had been showing her the valley and all the ruins outside of Kaer Morhen, all the places he had been trained at and all the other sights he considered important. He had saved the best for last.

"Hard to say. If you've lived a century doing one thing it's hard to imagine doing something else."

Kit nodded. "Do you ever feel like going back to your old life?"

Geralt did not even think. "Absolutely not."

"That's a relieve." She smiled.

"Why?"

"For once, I probably wouldn't be able to join you. You know, not knowing how to fight and so on. And also because I couldn't bear it to wait anxiously for your return every time you go out to hunt down some monster." She grabbed his hand as they walked. "You always act like I'm in constant danger when you are the one who's running into it head-first."

"Says the one who insisted on facing a leshen unarmed," he mocked.

"Wasn't really a leshen though."

"But you didn't know that for a fact."

"No, but I had someone living in my head who did." She shrugged. "I'm sure, worst case, you could have dealt with it."

"Have you ever considered that you might be a little too trusting?"

"I doubted that this world was real for quite a bit. I'm sure that makes me the opposite of trusting."

"I think that was less of a trust issue and more about being stubborn."

"I'm not stubborn."

"Sure. Sure." He paused, a sly smile building on his face. "Once we get back to Toussaint you will go to the notary with me so we can deal with the ownership issue of Corvo Bianco."

"No. I told you I don't want it if you're not there. And as long as you're there, I'll be there too."

"Stubborn."

"No!"

Geralt looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay. Maybe. A little," she huffed. "A tiny bit."

"If you were to receive knighthood you'd be Lady Kit the stubborn."

"You're the one talking, Sir Geralt the bossy benefactor!"

"Actually, it's Sir Geralt of Rivia."

"I know. You named yourself."

"Yes, but I also got knighted, officially, by Queen Maeve back in the day. It's a proper title."

"Huh. Interesting. It's like I don't know you at all. Sir Geralt." She mockingly curtsied in front of him.

"Then you'll get to know me, silly, stubborn woman that you are." He grinned as he grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder and continued marching.

Kit groaned. "Some part of your armor is about to puncture my appendix. And why am I not the one wearing some? I can fix you but who fixes me? Besides, the fact that I still have to heal you tells me that this thing isn't doing anything for you."

"You are… squishy. I like it, wouldn't want to hide that behind armor." He cautiously dropped her to her feet. "But I do agree that things have vastly improved ever since you've arrived here. Even made Eskel jealous." He straightened out her braid that had not taken well to being carried upside down.

"Jealous?" Her expression faltered.

He cocked his head. "Spill it. What's wrong?"

"I don't know." She caressed his face, let her finger trace over the big scar. "Just a few nights and his scars are gone. But we've had many nights, so many, and yours are healing much slower. I wonder if it's my fault."

"Your fault? Don't be silly. You were given powers that you don't know how to control. That's all."

"But what if it's not? Until recently, I had always assumed that old scar tissue is just more difficult to fix than a fresh wound. But obviously I was wrong. What if your scars are so resistant because… because I really like them and… maybe… don't want them gone?" She mumbled the last part of the sentence, her head dropping.

Geralt smirked. "In that case I suppose I should be mad at you. How dare you like me the way I am?"

"So, you don't think I'm selfish?" she murmured, eyes cast to the ground between them.

"No, not selfish." He grinned. "But stubborn. So fucking stubborn."

Kit pulled a face and boxed him into his upper arm to which he just smiled. He would never understand why she blamed herself for not being able to give him something when she had already given him everything else.

Geralt took her hand and together they continued walking up the small path at the end of which, hidden behind some shrubbery, the narrow opening of a cave greeted them.

"This is a special place," Geralt explained.

"Really? Because it looks like just another cave," Kit stated with a raised eyebrow, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"It's a special cave," Geralt insisted. "Come on!" He ducked to avoid hitting his head on the low entrance.

"Shouldn't you maybe check if there is anything in there that might be dangerous?" Kit followed, her furrowed brow clearly indicating that she was not at all convinced of the idea.

"I would have heard it if anything was in here," he tried to assuage her.

The light that came through the entrance became weaker and weaker quickly until they found themselves in total darkness.

"Hold on to me," he said as he guided her hands to his back.

"This is a pretty pointless excursion if I can't see anything."

"Just a moment."

It did not take Kit long until she noticed first the warmth and then a light at the other end. Soon the darkness gave way to a much bigger cave that was illuminated by the sun – a conveniently located breach high up in the side of the mountain was enough to light up the entire cave. The shallow, crystal-clear lake in front of them, its surface only moved by the steady dripping of water from some stalactites above their heads, reflected the light onto the high ceiling of the cave.

Hypnotized, Kit watched the reflected movement of the water above their heads.

"Wow. This is beautiful. And very, very warm."

The lake was surrounded by greenery. Moss, ferns and other plants grew all over the place.

"You are the first person who is not a witcher or training to be one, who gets to see this." He sat down on a particularly lush looking spot that was grazed by the sunshine and beckoned Kit to sit next to him.

"I feel honored," she joked as the took in the environment.

"Did you train here as well?"

"No." Geralt shook his head. "This was a refuge. Training could be… quite frustrating sometimes. Went here whenever I got a beating that left me feel so ashamed that I didn't dare to go back to the keep. Or when I had a fallout with one of the witchers who trained us."

"Really? That seems so hard to imagine." She cocked her head. "Honestly, I can't even picture you as a boy, not even talking about a boy who takes shit from anyone."

Geralt closed his eyes and smiled. "A lot of testosterone, a lot of butting heads and a whole armada of boys going through puberty. Hardly a day went by without conflict." He ran his fingers over the soft moss. "This was a good place to spend a night away and regain your temper."

"Was this place a secret?"

"Not really. Every new boy got shown it eventually. Those who made it to becoming witchers and started training new students knew about it obviously. And in winter it's impossible to miss because you can see the steam escaping through the hole up there. This lake gets its water from some hot springs beneath it. Always keeps it cozy in here. But it was an unwritten law that no adult would ever enter the cave. We didn't have much private sphere except for this place."

Geralt thought about one or the other night he had spent here, alone or with Eskel by his side. Back then when he had no idea what life would be like.

"It's beautiful." Kit leaned against Geralt's arm.

"Always imagined how, when I was finally a proper witcher, I'd save a pretty girl and I would take her to this place." He chuckled. "I think all the boys had the same idea. At some point there was a rumor about a nymph living in this lake. If that ever was the case she must have left long before I got here."

"And what were you going to do once you got the girl into the cave? Or if you had encountered a… uh, willing nymph? Before your transformation she might have had an actual interest in you." Nymphs, like the dryads of Brokilon, were only interested in fertile men as it was their only way to breed. Sterile witchers though were of no relevance to them.

Geralt smiled before he turned around and carefully pushed Kit into the soft moss beneath them. He held himself up on his forearms, towering above her. With one finger he followed the contours of her face while he gave himself a moment to lose himself in her eyes.

"Naturally, I would have kissed her." He lowered himself to do exactly that. He sunk into her soft lips, licking and pushing his tongue against them until she finally opened up to let him explore her mouth, let him catch her silky tongue. He put some part of his weight on her, trapping her slender body beneath his, her soft moan reverberating through his body.

"And then?" she asked coyly.

"Then… nothing." He chuckled as he lay down on his side next to her, one arm draped around her waist. "I was too young. I had no idea there was a next."

"It's hard to imagine you as anything else but the man you are. Honestly, I never even really thought about it before we came here. That you had a childhood I mean."

"I don't remember much of my early days. It's been too long. Probably for the best…"

"Doesn't matter. I like what you've become." She paused. The way she looked at him, with longing and admiration for him, said it all. "I never thought of you as someone with a brother either. It feels like I get to discover a new side of you."

"Is that so?" He smiled when she propped herself up on one elbow and traced patterns on his chest. Even through the leather breast plate of the light armor he was wearing her feathery movements seemed to reach his core, stirring something inside him.

"Yes. After all I've never seen you in your natural environment." She chuckled and continued with feigned indignation: "And I simply cannot believe that there was a version of you that didn't know what to do with a woman."

He smiled. "We were a bunch of boys, not one woman in sight. How could I? We only got a theoretical introduction much later, when we were older, sitting with the proper witchers who returned for the winter and who loved to brag about their conquests."

She cocked her head. "I understand but… what if the woman you brought knew what to do?"

"Keep talking. I'm intrigued." His hand ran over the valley of her hips, over her stomach to her breasts, starting to paint patters with his fingers just like she had done a moment ago. He felt her nipples harden beneath his touch as she closed her eyes.

"Talking was not what I had in mind," she hummed.

"I like where this is going."

It was evening by the time they returned to the keep. Eskel noticed their disheveled looks but said nothing and contented himself with shaking his head, smiling.

"I'll join you. I'll go with you," he announced later on. "To Toussaint I mean."

"That's great. We can always need another pretty face over there," Kit taunted him.

"Don't say that, you'll just make Geralt jealous and I'm not in the mood for a fight," Eskel joked.

Geralt hummed, a smile on his lips. He liked the idea of having his brother back in his life.

"You'll be dragging my man into a bunch of adventures no one needed. I think we're even."

"Your man?" Geralt asked as he looked at her.

"Well, yes. Or would you rather be his man?" she said, nodding in Eskel's direction.

"Mh, tough choice."

"Not really. Unlike her, I won't put up with you smothering me during the night."

Geralt looked at him in surprise. "Didn't smother anybody, what are you talking about?"

Eskel rolled his eyes again. "Her? I'm honestly happy that you found someone who's willing and able to deal with you, but the way you two cuddle, your closeness, that's bordering on insanity."

"You watch us sleep?" Kit cocked her head, trying hard to remain serious.

"Well, didn't really have a choice, did I?"

"Creep."

And the three of them burst out in laughter.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'll sleep alone again from now on. Downstairs. As far away as possible from the two of you."

"We should drink to that!" Geralt raised his mug.

"Definitely!" Eskel agreed.

When the sun rose, the three riders and their horses left Kaer Morhen behind. But this time Geralt had made sure to savor the view from the balcony of their bedroom, to see the sun rise over the valley one last time, to properly say goodbye to his old home. Kit waited for him, her arms crossed over her chest, wearing that beautiful smile he had grown so used to.

As they left the old fortress, he turned around to take one last look, feeling a pang of sadness. But then he looked to the other side where his beloved silly women rode next to him. She reached over to him and grabbed his hand because she of all people knew what home meant. She understood.