the white wolf and the runaway princess

"Scum like that don't need you to draw attention to women like you. With or without intent, they will find you," Geralt grunted. He huffed as he shook his head, unable to ignore how annoyed he was over the thought. He wasn't afraid to fight and defend someone who was being assaulted. He didn't particularly seek out those being hurt but if a situation presented itself? Geralt had never been a fan of people being forced into things that they didn't want.

Geralt's face fell from his utter annoyance to being absolute annoyance when Fiona all but questioned his integrity. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, until he was in Fiona's face. "If I wanted to take advantage of you, princess, I would have. But have I?" He quipped, his anger palpable. He took offense to her words and he wasn't the least bit hesitant to show it.

Grumbling as he stepped back from Fiona, Geralt shrugged his shoulders. He grit his teeth at the mention of returning here. Did he tell hr or not? "Just look for white hair on a head above everyone else," Geralt said with a dry laugh. He stepped toward Roach, moving to straddle the horse. Geralt stopped suddenly, looking down to her. "Can you make it back, safe?"

Fiona's heart had begun to beat wildly in her chest when he had gotten hot headed and in her face. She hadn't meant to insult him and from the look on his face, for a second, she thought she might live to regret it. Only realizing she had forgotten to breath until he stepped away did she let out a soft sigh. She backed away from his horse, watching as the witcher began to mount it. His black cloak spun around his heels as he moved to toss a leg over the horse, until he stopped.

"Yes." She nodded, watching as he only then continued to get comfortable in the saddle. "Goodbye, Geralt." The princess nodded to the witcher before she turned away, heading back towards the street where they had met. It would be easier for her to walk away from him, not wanting to watch him disappear outside of the kingdoms gates. It would only cause her to grow more jealous, wishing she had the freedom to just step outside of the gates. That was something she didn't yet brave doing.

Looking up at the castle that looked over her in the distance, Fiona made sure not to stare to long in fear of being spotted. She kept her head down, but before turning down another street, she stopped, contemplating if she wanted to glance back. Ultimately, she decided against it and continued home, but she counted on thinking of him often until he returned. If, he returned.

@ castle.

Geralt kept a watchful eye over Fiona even as she made her way back toward the castle. He directed Roach to follow her, only content to leave her when she disappeared from his sight completely. Geralt turned Roach around, heading toward the gates of the city. He sighed, reaching up to rub his face as his thoughts drifted to the princess that had stumbled upon him. Their short time together had certainly been interesting.

It was the better part of a month before Geralt had found the koshchey and disposed of it. It had taken longer than he had intended but sometimes his jobs were like that. It was nothing for him to complain about because he had been paid handsomely and now he could move on.

What he hadn't expected was to find himself heading back into the city that Fiona called home. Geralt wasn't intending on staying for very long at all but he wondered if Fiona would follow through on her promise as he walked through the streets, Roach's reigns wrapped firmly around his hand. He was seeking out another tavern, simply content not to go back to that particular establishment again. Geralt would find a room for the night, perhaps two, before moving on once again.

Fiona awoke the morning after Geralt had arrived back in Aedirn, and with a sour look on her face. She knew later that evening she was to attend a ball in welcoming another prince who hoped to receive her hand in marriage. Not wanting to think much about the affair, Fiona rose to her feet and began to dress for another outing in the city. She spent most of her free time there, at least sneaking out every other day.

At this point, it wasn't so much sneaking out, more along the lines of the guards just couldn't stop her. Covering her blue wispy gown with a long black cloak, with a large hood and billowing sleeves, the princess proceeded to climb out her window and scale down the crumbled brick and flower vines. It wasn't a far drop from the green house roof and from there, she could easily climb down into the courtyard. Luckily, her room wasn't up in one of the higher towers.

After entering the market corner of the kingdom, it didn't take long for Fiona to pick up mumblings of the witcher who had returned. People were questioning if some lurking monster was skulking around Aedirn and wondering if they should be fearful. This news only brought Fiona joy as she proceeded to ask every barkeep she passed if the witcher had been by. Eventually, she found him when she began searching around low street, he was propped up in the back of the tavern, leaning up gently against the wall.

From the opposite end of the tavern, he seemed so tired. The princess made her way through the bar, relieved it wasn't very busy at the current time. "Back sooner than I expected." Fiona couldn't help the smile that had found its way into her face.

@ castle.

Geralt has briefly considered hiding the pendant that hung from his neck. It would hopefully dissuade people from accusing him of being the very thing that he was. If only because he was exhausted and he wanted to relax. He didn’t want a hassle. Geralt was hopeful that the people in the bar he’d chosen would respect that. And for the most part, they did.

Leaning back against the wall, Geralt nearly let his eyes slip shut. Maybe staying down here had been a bad idea. He should retire up to the room he had already paid twice the normal going rate for. Geralt was just contemplating it when Fiona approaches him. His brows knit together as he looked up to her. He was impressed that she had found him and so quickly but he would never admit that to her.

“Back before even I thought I would return. Aedirn isn’t kind to witchers,” Geralt responded. He gave her a rueful smile as he sipped on the ale that he had purchased. Geralt gave the seat opposite him a meaningful look, as if to ask Fiona if she would sit with him. Or had she simply come by to see he was still in one piece before leaving?

“Is it any more kind to you?” Geralt asked after another stretch of silence that grew between them. It was his own way of asking her how she had been while he had been away slaying the koshchey.

"Not kinder, but more boring." She watched as his orange eyes flicked over to the seat opposite of him. Feeling a smile rise to her face, she hiked up her cloak and sat down across from him. "Are you leaving today or did you buy the room for another night?" The question seemed to tumble right off the princess's tongue before she could really think about what she was asking. Her face blushed pink and she looked away, "I can't stay long, is why I'm asking. I have a...." Fiona glanced back to the witcher for just a moment, before dropping her eyes back to the table. She was sure he wouldn't want to hear about a ball. "...a thing I have to attend to, but if you would still be here tonight...?"

It wasn't even half past noon yet, but Fiona knew she would have to be back in the castle soon to bathe and for her maids to doll her up for the event. The idea of losing out on all that time, when instead she could be picking Geralt's brain really irked her. Still, she hoped his answer would be yes. After all, why had he returned to Aedirn after their last encounter if not to see her again? He was correct in saying the townspeople weren't kind or accepting and she doubt he cared for the view. The princess also didn't want to let that thought go to her head, though. It was almost laughable, the idea of a witcher and a princess... being... It wasn't laughable because she would never entertain the idea, but she was sure he never would.

Light cascaded down over Geralt's face, lighting his white hair up and casting gold reflects in his eyes. Every time Fiona looked at him, it was almost magical to her. He seemed like a character straight out of one of her fantasy books.

@ castle.

Geralt nodded at Fiona's confession of how the city had been to her. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing a bit at her question. Tell her the truth or a lie? A lie may have been easier because Geralt never did like to have ties to any one place. It meant he would be pulled back to the place - to the person that interested him in whatever fashion. Geralt certainly wasn't thinking anything too in depth in regards to Fiona. A mere interest because she wasn't like other princesses. That was all it was, he thought.

"I have the room for another night. Nothing needs my immediate tension and the koshchey... well, it was more of a battle than I thought," Geralt added with a onesided shrug. He saw no need to hide it from her. Geralt had never been the sort of man to pretend he was invincible or that he was perfect because he was far from both. He was a mutant, after all. Could a mutant be perfect? Scoffing at the thought, Geralt shook his head and returned his attention back to Fiona.

"Roach is a loyal beast. I have to let him rest or he gets... attitude," Geralt said, his face scrunching a bit at the thought. Roach had been his companion of choice for a long time but it was true - the horse had a personality of his own. One that Geralt found oddly endearing. Feed Roach carrots and apples, let him rest on occasion and usually that was all it took to keep the beast happy. "Plus. I had to see what a certain escape artist was up to. If they had gotten themselves into more trouble. If they needed a witcher to save them." Geralt gave Fiona a pointed look, enjoying the way she reacted a bit more than he perhaps should have.

Fiona felt her face begin to heat up, her cheeks blushing a rosy pink from his words. She couldn't help it, but the thought of him saving her... She didn't want to be needing saved, but just the thought of it. "So the koshchey put up a fight? A big enough one that the big bad witcher needs to rest?" She teased him, only laughing a little herself when she realized he didn't find it amusing. "What does a koshchey look like? How big are they?" The princess had never heard of such a monster, but if took longer than Geralt anticipated, it must've have been some beast of a monster?

"If by trouble you mean here in taverns, then no, no trouble here," she assured him, licking her bottom lip and clasping her hands together in her lap beneath the table. Geralt didn't need to know that her father had learned of her sneaking out and had alerted city guards to be keeping an eye out for her. She had eluded them for years, since she was a teenager, just because they knew to be on the lookout now didn't change anything. Fiona looked up at the ceiling when she heard the clock tower chiming from the center square. She cursed under her breath, very unladylike, but she was sure she had more time.

"I'm sure I'll remember my questions later, I have to go." Fiona rose to her feet, sighing with her shoulder slouched as she moved away from the bench. If only it hadn't taken her so long to find him... or if she had only woken up a bit earlier. Pushing the thoughts from her mind, she looked down at Geralt with a small smile on her lips, "I'll see you this evening."

The princess would much rather sit here in this tavern with the witcher all day than return to the castle to get squeezed into a huge ball gown and be forced to dance with a snotty prince into the late evening hours. She knew if she wasn't in her room when it was time for her to be fitted, the whole city guard would be told of her disappearance and... Well, this was a bigger headache than she wanted to deal with, let alone she couldn't even imagine the punishment that would await her afterwards.

@ castle.

Geralt had been trained in detecting lies and unspoken truths. Her comment about trouble in the taverns has him tilting his head to the side as he tried to figure out the piece of the puzzle that was missing. Was she experiencing trouble elsewhere? His face scrunched slightly as he tried to sift through his thoughts, unable to come up with some sort of concrete answer. Instead, Geralt lifted his gaze to Fiona and smirked.

“Koshchey? They are death. They have six eyes and eight legs - the front two are claws that they can use to rip you in two... or impale you if you’d rather not be ripped in half. This was the biggest I’ve encountered but I am here and it is not,” Geralt said. He grinned a little for he felt triumphant. He only allowed himself the thought for a moment before the smile fell and he grew serious once again. It was easier to keep people at a distance when he didn’t show them emotion. He was a Witcher, after all.

Geralt raised his chin when the bell tower rang. It seemed to put Fiona on edge, only further cementing his concerns of her safety. It wasn’t something that he could or would question her on. At least not right now. He wrote it off as something to be concerned about later. Geralt was tired and Fiona, she had duties that she had to tend to.

“Careful you don’t get into too much trouble while I’m not around to protect you, princess,” his voice came out low, hard as he spoke. Geralt’s eyes found Fiona’s and he held them there for a moment. When Fiona stood to leave, Geralt broke her gaze and instead turned back to his tankard of ale that he perched over.

The witcher's words had the princess freezing in her tracks and the only way to combat the fluttering feeling her stomach was to leave him. Forcing her feet to leave the spot they found themselves glued in, Fiona turned her back on Geralt and left the tavern, returning to the castle with only mere minutes to spare before the maids came knocking at her door.

While she was being washed and her hair was being brushed violently and twisted into a braided updo, she could close her eyes and hear his words as if he was there by her side, whispering in her ear. "...while I'm not around to protect you..." The princess knew it was a stupid thought to linger on, knowing the witcher had just been speaking, most likely with no real substance backing up his words. That wasn't to say she didn't think he would help her if he saw her in trouble, but she doubted he would truly be upset if something happened to her while he wasn't around.

The wait seemed to drag on forever, the princess just hidden away in her bedroom waiting for the event to begin. Fiona hated the baby pink gown the more she stared at it, the more she fidgeted with the lace and tulle and golden beads that decorated it. The color made her sick to her stomach and when she looked up into her vanity, seeing just how perfect of a princess she seemed to be, the sickness grew worse. Fiona knew how the prince would think of her tonight, and it wouldn't as her own person, but as a potential bride, a potential child factory.

She was forced from her thoughts when she heard the bells ringing out through the kingdom, signaling the beginning of the ball. Rising to her feet, she left her room to meet her father at the top of the grand staircase, looking down to the ballroom where a sea of people waited to see her, all dressed in their best. It looked like a sea of colors, brights, darks, pastels.... Her eyes shifted to the bottom step of the staircase, seeing the prince of Temeria waiting patiently for her to descend down to him. "Father, why-" but the king refused to let her even get the sentence out, before he took his daughter by the arm and began leading her down the stairs.

"Don't think I don't know about you sneaking out earlier this morning, be on your best behavior tonight and I will forget about it." He spoke with a solid, stern voice. Dropping her gaze to her feet, she dreaded when they made it down the stairs and her father passed her off to the prince. She curtsied for him, feeling sick as she saw the look of lust behind his dull, green eyes. The prince wasn't unattractive, but knowing his motives was enough to instantly turn her off of him. She would be turned off from any prince who graced her home looking for her had in marriage.

It wasn't until the clock chimed, signaling midnight that the princess forced herself away from the prince. She had attempted multiple times throughout the night to dismiss herself from his side, but he had forced her to stay, tightening his arms around her waist, or gripping her arm more forcefully. She pried her hands away from him, this time though, muttering something about needing her beauty sleep, and perhaps she would see him tomorrow. Giving the prince no time to complain or object, she hiked up her dress and hurried up the stairs back to her room.

Once hidden behind the doors, she wasted no time changing into something much more freeing and simple, her hair still braided up, though they were beginning to loosen and strands were starting to fall around her face. She lingered in her room after changing out of the hideous pink dress, standing still in front of the open window of her room that looked over the kingdom. A doubt had popped into her mind and she wondered if Geralt was still waiting for her, or if he had left. She hoped he was still somewhere down there, in the many winding streets of the kingdom, drinking himself away in the tavern she had left him in.

Tossing on her black cloak, she slipped out a hidden exit in her room, knowing it would be simple to leave out the front gates of the castle tonight. The princess hid herself among the leaving guests, disappearing out of the castle without causing any suspicion.

@ castle.

Geralt had carried himself up the creaking stairs of the tavern, grimacing at the way his muscles protested his movements. His body was tired and sore from riding on Roach after the battle. He hadn’t had the energy to walk on his own two feet and even now, Geralt wondered how he managed to make it up the stairs. Grunting as he tossed his room door shut, Geralt settled into the easy enough habit of starting a fire in the room. He warmed water long enough that he could comfortably bath before he tugged his shirt over his head. From his bag, Geralt produced a paste that he’d nearly run out of. It was mostly meant to help wounds heal and ease the pain that often accompanied them. Slathering the last of the paste on, Geralt made a mental note to gather supplies for another batch before he left the city. Who knew the next time he would happen upon somewhere that held everything that he would need.

Geralt dropped onto the thin bed of straw and opted to take a short nap, or a long one - whatever happened, he supposed. He had no way of knowing when Fiona would reappear tonight. When he awoke, the light shining through the cracks of the wooden cover on the window told it was past dusk.

Hugging to himself, Geralt pushed to his feet and moved to grab the only clean shirt he owned at the moment. He would have to do laundry as well, it seemed. Geralt left his room, his key dropped into his pocket as he made his way back down the stairs without a weapon in hand. He was intent on getting a meal and a tankard of ale. Whether Fiona appeared while he was downstairs or not, Geralt was debating on if he should stay or not.

Looking up, Geralt couldn’t help but smirk as he noticed a Certain brunette weaving through the bar toward where he sat with his back against the wall. Easier to assess any potential threats that came his way. Raising an eyebrow, Geralt shoved a piece of bread into his mouth. He chased it with a bit of beer before dropping the tankard to the table. “Whatever you had to do seemed to be important,” Geralt grumbled, noticing just how intricately her hair was done. Even if it was starting to come undone, there was no mistaking that it had likely been a ball that she had attended.

Fiona wondered if the witcher had even moved from that spot, seeing him hunkered down at the same table she had left him at that morning. Not waiting for an invitation to see, the princess relaxed onto the bench in front of him. "Important to someone, but not to me." Her answer was short and rushed. A dark strand of wavy hair fell down in front of her face and she blew it away, before trying to tuck it back into place without looking.

The princess felt no need in hiding her head under a cloak in that moment, seeing as many well dressed men and women were entering the tavern now, she would blend in without causing any alarm. It was clear that a huge party had just been held at her home and for a moment, she wondered if she should've invited the witcher. Surely he would've declined, not feeling it was the best place for him to be hanging around and it would cause her great distraction, knowing her attention would be devoted to him while she tried to entertain some prince.

Some prince.... Fiona's hand raised to the side of her neck again and she gently rubbed where she still felt that strange man's mouth, before breaking out of her own thoughts. "I'm more than glad to be free of it, now. No more obligations for the rest of the night, except for this one." Of course, she meant spending time with Geralt.

@ castle.

Geralt only gave a nod of his head in response to Fiona’s words. He couldn’t say he was the least bit surprised that whatever she had gone to do didn’t appeal to her. Fiona didn’t seem to be the average princess that cared for the riches in life. It nearly made him smile but instead he shoved a piece of potato into his mouth to keep himself occupied. Humming to himself, Geralt’s gaze flicked upward to meet Fiona’s. He couldn’t help but smirk then, lifting the tankard to take a sip of ale so he could clear his mouth.

“Tell me,” Geralt murmured as he leaned forward, his eyes locked on hers as he spoke. “What sort of obligation does a princess have to a Witcher?” Geralt asked, his head cocking to the side as he studied her reaction. He couldn’t help but to grin, only because it became clear that Fiona hadn’t been expecting that question. She might have seemed a bit unsure of how to answer but Geralt found it fairly amusing. Never mind the fact that he had returned to a city that he had no reason to be in, never mind the fact that he’d nearly been excited when Fiona found him so quickly.

“Care for a drink?” Geralt asked suddenly, noticing just how uncomfortable he had seemingly made Fiona. That hadn’t been his intention - he’d only meant to tease her a bit. Geralt didn’t have much at all to offer so the drink was the first thing that came to mind.

Fiona had not expected him to tease her in such a way. Her face instantly felt hot and she was sure the sides of her face had to be at least blushing pink if they hadn't gone blistering red. Her eyes dropped from his face, down to what she could see of his chest, and his strong arms. She could think of a few things, but they were definitely not for a princess to describe.

The witcher pushed his tankard of ale towards the girl and she lingered on it for a moment, her fingers lifting up to brush the handle, before she dropped them back to the table. "I've never had ale before. I'm not supposed to." There were a lot of things that princesses weren't supposed to do. Sneaking out to see a mysterious man was one of them. Fiona could only begin to imagine all of the things she could probably do with Geralt if she could throw her tiara off, figuratively, of course. She wasn't actually wearing one, but... Sex, drinking, traveling the continent, seeing all of these insane beasts he spoke of that she was sure could only be real in the pages of a book...

The princess found herself growing angry at her answer. When did she ever care what a princess was supposed to do? She usually tried to bend or break every rule she could that wouldn't land her in serious trouble. Before Geralt could even comment on her sudden newfound respect for rules, she picked up the tankard and allowed her nose to catch the scent before she sipped it. The bitterness of the ale, instantly caused her nose to wrinkle up, and she sat it back down on the table. "Pretty horrible." She laughed, knowing people didn't drink it for the taste anyways.

@ castle.

Even Geralt couldn't have stopped the shock that showed on his features when Fiona pointed out that she wasn't supposed to drink ale. The surprise was gone just as quick as it appeared, replaced by the stony exterior that Geralt had adopted a long time ago. He raised an eyebrow, making a show of looking around the tavern. "I don't think that you're supposed to be here either. I didn't take you as someone who cared for the rules," Geralt pointed out in a low voice. He didn't see a point in hiding his thoughts, what would Fiona do if she didn't like it? Leave?

In the same breathe that he had spoken, Fiona was bringing the tankard to her lips. He couldn't stop himself from letting out a small laugh when she sniffed the ale before taking a tentative sip. He nodded at her description. "It is. But it's also cheap and does the job that it's supposed to," Geralt added with a onesided shrug of his shoulders. "When you're someone like me..." he grunted, not particularly liking his choice of words. "Then you take what you can get. You don't always know the next time that you will get to loosen up so much."

Geralt sat back in his chair, eyeing Fiona. "Would you prefer something else?" He prompted after a moment of silence that stretched between them. "They probably don't have fancy wine but I'm sure they'll have wine," Geralt offered, already turning so that he could stand and go to order something that Fiona would enjoy a bit more than his preferred poison.

Fiona looked up at Geralt, her eyes widening as she just nodded, watching him disappear into the crowd. She had wanted to protest, only because she was a little nervous, but how would that make her look? Especially after what he had just said, he was right... She didn't care for rules. She suspected she was only nervous about perhaps catching a buzz and finding it hard to sneak back up to her room. The princess had never had a drink in her life, she had never been permitted to any dinners or parties, so she wasn't sure how one glass would affect her.

That and she didn't know how wordy she might get if she caught a little buzzed. She was already a talkative, and very outgoing princess, she didn't need much help, but she was worried she might not be able to hold her tongue about how handsome he was, or how much she already seemed to like him. Fiona also didn't worry about trying to stop him so she could pay for the glass of wine herself. The princess intended to make sure the witcher had plenty of coin before leaving her kingdom, just as she had the first time. She didn't feel like she had to pay Geralt for his visit this time, but she wanted to make sure he'd be okay in case he couldn't find any jobs for a while. She wasn't sure how hard it was, to find jobs for a witcher.

@ castle.

Geralt thought it was best to grab Fiona one of the tavern's weaker drinks. He didn't know often she drank, if at all. He didn't want to be responsible for the princess of Aedirn getting drunk and being unable to make it back to her room on her own. Already, Geralt was thinking he may have to go with her because he didn't want her to get into any trouble that she didn't deserve. The thought alone was enough to turn his stomach. She was being seen sitting with him now, what would happen if somehow, someone managed to piece together who she was after she didn't make it home? His head hurt just at the thought of it.

Returning to their table, Geralt dropped back into his chair. He set the mug down in front of Fiona and nodded toward it. "It's just a weak wine. You should be able to enjoy it without any adverse affects," he added. Geralt wondered why Fiona felt so comfortable around him. He was a witcher, a mutant - someone who most were afraid of and yet she had actively sought him out several times over. Geralt couldn't help but want to ask her why but the middle of a crowded tavern was not the place to have a conversation like that. Geralt had never cared what others thought of him but he wasn't exactly stupid, either.

"Why don't you tell me about one of your... balls?" Geralt prompted, deciding that he ought to get some sort of story out of her. After all, he'd given her one. Now it was only fair, wasn't it?

Fiona almost audibly sighed in relief when he mentioned the weak wine, and she might have if she hadn't been quickly also shocked by the fact. She swallowed and looked up from the mug to Geralt as he sat back down. His white hair fell over his shoulder as he made himself comfortable. Sometimes bad stories she had been told about witchers still crossed her mind, and she had often been told about how... promiscuous they usually were, that coupled with the stories of their apparent nasty nature, why would he not want to get her tipsy? It was hard for her to understand why it seemed like he actually cared for her? Wouldn't a witcher want to take advantage of a princess, especially after she had tossed him a bag of gold?

She was relieved he seemed to be different. Raising the mug to her lips, she took a drink of the sweet wine and actually enjoyed the taste. He hadn't been lying, it was a rather weak spirit, there was only a slight bitter aftertaste. The princess had only started to relax from her first slight shock, before Geralt only surprised her again. He was asking about balls?

Sitting the mug back down on the table, Fiona moved the drink around in her hands while she tried to understand why he was curious about that. "Well..." Fiona stiffened, "when I was younger they were much more enjoyable. I'm sure any little girl would love dressing up in big, puffy gowns covered in glitter and getting to dance around inside of a large castle, but now... they're absolutely horrid to endure. For a princess, anyway." Fiona didn't really feel good complaining like this to the witcher. How must it come across? She was complaining about her lavish, comfortable life to a man who didn't know if he would have enough money for a place to rest his head the next night. "I'm sorry... It's not the worst thing, but my father has been trying to get me to accept a prince's proposal to wed, so the past several balls I've attended have been..." The princess just let her words trail off as she visually became uncomfortable, her shoulders rising slightly as she her body tensed. The princes were usually very, very handsy and she could still remember all of their inappropriate groping and touching.

Why was she telling him all of this, like this? Instead of just telling him all of the good and positive things? She was sure he didn't want to hear this complaining, but he just seemed so easy to grieve on.

@ castle.

Geralt hadn't been expecting the anger the shot through him when Fiona started talking about the most recent balls that she had attended. The thought made his stomach turn in a way that he wasn't sure how to respond to. It wasn't the first time that he would have heard a tale like this but it still made him uncomfortable. He gritted his teeth, looking away from her as he tightened his grip on the handle of his tankard. He waved away her apology, doing his best to ignore the swell of anger that he felt. Emotions had no place in a witcher's world. They only made things far more complicated than they needed to be. When things were already so damn complicated from day in and day out.

"Trust me. You are not the first to tell me these things," Geralt answered her lowly. He gave her a tired smile for it was the truth. He had heard the same things Fiona had said to him. Some were more detailed and others even less so than Fiona had been. "You won't be the last either," he added without too much thought at all. Sometimes his work dragged him to castles, sometimes he found himself speaking to princesses because he needed to. It wasn't always something that he could avoid.

"You do happen to be the first one I've met in a tavern. That continues to find me in taverns to talk to me about things that I do not even claim to understand," Geralt made some sort of weak attempt at a joke. "You want to hear about the stories that you were told as a child - when there is no real glory to be had in my life. It's all cold nights and harder days. Some days I don't even know if I will get to eat supper. Yet people pretend as if I am only here for coin. Which, I suppose I am. But the same could be said for anyone alive. Without coin, a person has nothing."

Fiona felt the uncomfortable wave wash away from her as it was quickly replaced with jealousy when he spoke of other princesses, mostly the last bit. That was what told her she was truly falling for the witcher... And it was a stupid, stupid mistake. It could bring nothing good, he would only leave her in the end. He would have to. She began cursing herself in her head, until she was distracted by the way he turned the story. The princess did begin to feel guilty complaining about her life.

"You save people's lives, Geralt." She picked up her mug in her hand before taking another sip of it, lowering it from her mouth but not placing it down, "there is glory to be found in that. Whether you charge for it or not." She felt confident in stating this, just from the experience she had where he had protected her from lowly men in a tavern just like this one. The princess tilted the glass to her lips again, savoring the sweet berry flavor before she sat it down.

She looked down at the table, not realizing the frown that had found its way into her face. Here she was, a princess, worrying about whether this grown man would be able to feed himself after he left again. She could already feel the sleepless nights she would begin to endure, worrying over him.

@ castle.