The Dragon and the Wolf

Chapter 5 -- Phantom Riders

*****

"No portals," Geralt stated.

"But..."

"I am inclined to agree with my friend here," I added, "You can just join me on my horse and we can ride there together."

"Horseback? Ugh!" she groaned. Then she looked between the both of us and sighed. "Fine. At least I can provide directions, otherwise you'll end up wandering around lost for hours."

We walked our horses back to the main path before mounting, helping Keira up onto mine. I think she was a little disappointed to sit behind rather than in front of me, whispering within a couple of minutes that I could have felt her up while riding along. So I just mentioned that it was something I could do next time, which was the right answer.

The ride took a couple of hours, heading south, passing through Midcopse, eventually turning off the road itself as the entrance was a cave hidden away from even the most suspicious of eyes. Dismounting, we headed towards the entrance, Keira admitting she only knew its location as she had followed the elf to ensure it wasn't some sort of trap, but she'd never been inside.

"Good thing I'm used to adventuring through caves and ruins," I muttered, as none of us carried any sort of torch.

"

Gvella, glan

!" Keira exclaimed, and things turned a little brighter. Well, around us, at least. Better than fumbling around in near darkness.

If Geralt or Keira recognised anything, they didn't say as we headed down a flight of stairs. We ended up in a large cavern, with ruins ahead and to either side of us, when Geralt held up a hand to stop us. His eyesight was far superior to mine or Keira, but I could just about make out the figures at the far end. "The Wild Hunt," he grunted.

"What?! Phantom riders?" Keira asked, "That means... I thought they didn't exist!"

"The fuck they doing here?" I asked instead.

"We need a portal to get to the other side, Keira."

I could see she had a retort about the fact he hated portals, but could obviously sense how important this was, so she formed one without question. "I don't like this, Geralt," she muttered as we followed him through.

Of course, it went wrong. No idea where I ended up to begin with, but it was dark and there was no sign of my two companions. "Geralt!" I called, "Keira!"

When they were no response, I unsheathed my sword and blindly moved forward. I knew Geralt could see in the dark, but I had a trick or two of my own, summoning a small light that would hover just above me. I'd always been an unusual Nord back home as I'd always appreciated the advantages magic had brought me. Rarely used it in battle, but at moments like this, I had no problem using magic.

Running into drowners would have once been a problem, particularly as I didn't carry silver. I wasn't a witcher, not at all, but having spent time with them over the past ten and more years, I'd learned more than enough to handle certain monsters. Fire usually worked on most monsters, so I kept a sword in hand to keep them back, using my free hand to cast a fire spell in their direction. Their cooked flesh was soon infiltrating my nostrils, enough to make an ordinary man gag. I'd dealt with enough to be almost used to it.

Dealing with the drowners wasn't particularly difficult, and searching for where we'd entered the enormous cavern, I probably wasn't the only one to hear feminine shrieks coming from ahead. I ran into Geralt and we both jogged towards the cries coming from Keira, to find her inside a chamber, standing up on a stone block as tiny rats ran around at her feet. Geralt and I stopped, looked at each other, and almost keeled over from laughter. That just caused her shrieks to increase in volume.

"Kill them! I hate rats!"

He took one mound, I took the other, and we just burned their nests before we burned those running around. I would have just stomped on them but... well, blood and guts sticking to the sole wouldn't have been particularly pleasant. Once they were all dead, I offered a hand to help her down. She gave me a hug before she shuddered.

"Didn't think you'd be afraid of rats, Keira?" Geralt joked, dead-pan as always, "Surely you know one measly little spell to kill them." She definitely gave him the evil eye as he held up both hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, touchy subject. What happened to us anyway?"

"There's something here, something that distorts teleportation," she explained, "I've no idea how they managed to get to the other side problem free."

"Wild Hunt's teleportation magic is different," Geralt replied, "Got specially trained mages for that. Navigators they call them."

"I guess portals are out then?" I asked. Both looked at me and nodded. At least they didn't think it was a stupid question. "So I guess we're just walking, then."

"I don't like this," Keira muttered.

I took her hand, giving it a squeeze, making her look at me. "We'll be fine. At least there should be no more rats."

"No, just the Wild Hunt and other bloody monsters," she muttered.

Geralt gestured with his head. "Come on, they've already got a head start on us, and I don't particularly want to find a dead mage. He's the only lead we have at the moment."

Keira was impressed with the little spell I had so we could at least see, and with her own illumination spell, at least we could see where we were going. It didn't allow us to sneak ahead but that wasn't the purpose. Geralt mentioned we were definitely on the trail of the Wild Hunt. No sign of them just yet, it was pure instinct. He knew the signs to look for.

We did eventually enter a chamber where there was some sort of projection of the elven mage. I had learned since arriving that the elven language was the same on Tamriel as it was on the Continent. I wondered, if there were any other worlds out there, if the elven language was the same there too. I'd learned a little elven but Geralt and Keira were both fluent in the language, so understood what the mage was saying.

"I could ask what that was but I don't think I'd understand," I said.

"A morphotic projection," Keira stated.

"I said I wouldn't understand, Keira."

"It's just something we mages use occasionally. Safer than putting our thoughts and ideas to pen and paper."

"Nothing wrong with writing things down sometimes. At least I can write!"

That made her chuckle as Geralt added, "The message was definitely for Ciri. 'Daughter of the Gull' is in reference to the fact she is Lara Dorren's heir. Then there's the added mention of Zireael, which she named her sword. The elven word for swallow."

It was a case of exploring the caves we passed through, dealing with the occasional monsters. Things like drowners I knew how to handle. I knew about wraiths but they were the sort of monsters I generally left to Geralt whenever I was travelling with him. As always, Geralt muttered about me finally getting a 'fucking silver sword' while he dealt with them, Keira helping where she could. I attempted to use a little magic of my own, but they were immune to fire, and using any sort of frost spell didn't really seem to work either. So I just shrugged helplessly as Geralt swore continuously, though he wasn't actually in any sort of life threatening position.

Following signs as we made our way through the ruins, most of the time following a symbol of a swallow, but the mage was smart, using other symbols that Ciri, or those that cared about her, would recognise. At once stage, we had to find a symbol of a horse, Geralt and I sharing a glance and a grin, "Kelpie," we exclaimed.

"How well do you know her?" Keira asked me.

"Obviously not as well as our friend here, but she was at Kaer Morhen the day I arrived. Precocious little thing."

"She had you wrapped around her finger within days, Ragnar," Geralt stated, as he started to remove his shirt. "I think our way is down there. I'm going to jump down and see if I can find the exit. Just don't do anything to provoke a trap or something."

"We'll stand right where we are, Geralt," Keira stated, a little sarcasm in her tone.

As he disappeared, she turned towards me. "So, you've obviously told me a little about your history. I do wonder though... when did you meet Triss Merigold?"

*****

Approximately six months after arriving...

I've never been one to believe in love at first sight. Oh sure, I'd been infatuated from the moment I'd laid eyes on someone. Back on Skyrim, the day I'd met Aela, I knew we'd end up together. I was proven right rather quickly in that regard, ending up in bed together within a few days of meeting the first time. I was smitten the day I released Serana from her tomb. The day she admitted to returning that affection was one of the best days of my life.

Did I fall in love within five minutes of meeting Triss Merigold? Maybe. Maybe not. What I knew straight away is that I wanted to be with her, and not just intimately. I wanted to know her in more ways than just what she looked like naked. Don't get me wrong, I wanted that too, but when our eyes met the first time as we were introduced, I had that dry mouth thing you get when... you just know.

"This is Ragnar, Triss. He's a stranger to our lands."

She offered her hand and I did the gentlemanly thing of brushing my lips against the back of it, which made her chuckle. "Charmed," I stated softly.

"How are you a stranger to these lands?" she wondered.

"It's a long story."

I met her eyes and made sure I had a slight smirk on my face. "I might like to hear that story one day."

Geralt looked at me. "Triss is here primarily to assist with Ciri. She's becoming a young woman. Obviously there are no women here so... you know..." He looked at Triss. "If there's anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, you need only ask."

"I can rough it with the best of them, Geralt. What matters most is that Ciri had someone here she can rely on as she... blossoms."

"Is that what they call puberty here?" I asked with a chuckle.

"I am merely being polite, Ragnar," Triss stated sweetly, "Do I have my own room, Geralt?"

"Of course. It's rather basic but..."

"I have things with me to add a little life and colour, but I knew what I was walking into coming here. It's fine."

Triss settled in with us quickly, and Ciri took to her immediately. Though the young girl... woman... enjoyed the idea of being a witcher, and certainly enjoyed the physical aspects of her training, at heart she was also a young woman going through changes inside and out. I certainly would have been out of my depth giving any advice, and the idea of the likes of Vesemir giving any to a young girl would have made most laugh.

She quickly joined in with us at meal-times, and whenever Ciri was put through her training, she would happily take a seat and watch her, or would get on with her own work. I took part in training, but as I wasn't exactly a witcher, I found myself helping Vesemir with a lot of the maintenance around Kaer Morhen. Even Vesemir wasn't sure how old the fortress was, but it was clearly ancient.

I would chat to Triss nearly every day. I may have attempted what I considered a subtle flirt nearly every time, mostly just to see if I raised a smile. The other witchers could see what I was trying to do, and I was certainly on the receiving end of some gentle ribbing and jokes, but even a blind man could see how attractive she was. Plus, she was a redhead. They were my weakness.

"Ragnar, we need more firewood," Geralt stated one afternoon, approaching me with an axe.

"Seriously?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

I looked around, wondering if he was pulling my leg, but we were alone in the main hall. "Surely we have..."

"Winter is fast approaching and we can never have too much firewood once snow started to fall."

I sighed and took the axe from him. "Fine."

"Good man."

The pile of logs would have been intimidating even to someone who chopped all day, every day. Sighing to myself yet again, I shook off my shirt and dragged a log closer, getting to word cutting it into manageable pieces before cutting it into even smaller sections so it could be placed in the assorted fireplaces around the fort.

I'd been chopping for half an hour or so when I felt a presence nearby, glancing to see Triss sitting herself down on a chair, crossing her legs with a book on her lap, and it appeared she had a jug of something next to her as well. "You get a drink once I'm satisfied you've done the job you've been tasked," she stated.

I couldn't help chuckle. "Are you here to monitor my progress?"

"In a manner of speaking."

I could have suggested she was just there to ogle, but I wasn't going to complain, simply getting on with the task at hand. It was all about rhythm, and I certainly had a good pile of logs after a couple of hours of work. It must have satisfied my supervisor, and she wandered over with the jug, offering it to me. It was only cold water but what I needed after the exertion.

Having not seen me without a shirt, she was definitely looking me up and down. "You have a few scars, Ragnar."

"Aye. Been a few fights over the years."

"But you're not a witcher?"

"No. I'm the Dragonborn."

She didn't know that about me, but I figured I might as well just tell her now. "What's the Dragonborn?"

"It's a long story, Triss. Longer than I can just tell you just standing here." I paused and gave it a thought. "Why don't we go for a walk tomorrow?"

The grin was immediate. "A walk?"

"Sure. There's a river nearby and a path follows it for quite a while. Meant to be quite pretty."

The grin turned into a broad smile. I'm fairly sure a little colour appeared on her cheeks as well. She had to look up at me considering she was a good four or five inches shorter. "And what would your intentions be regarding this walk, Ragnar?"

"Well, I have a vague feeling you wouldn't mind hearing my story. We've talked from time to time since you arrived, but I guess we haven't really had what either of us would call a heart to heart. Guess I don't know all that much about you in return."

When she rested a hand on my chest, that caused me to almost choke on the mouthful I'd water I'd just swallowed. Looking down to meet her eyes, she was giving me another once over. "Tomorrow then, Ragnar," she whispered, before she turned to pick up her book and started to walk back to the fort. If I didn't know her any better, she definitely put a sway into her hips.

That night, I was enjoying a drink with Geralt on the balcony overlooking the fort and nearby valley. We were sitting in silence, like we usually did, before I had to ask, "How well do you know Triss?"

"I know her very well. She's good friends with Yennefer and she's a good friend of mine."

"She's single?"

He returned a sideways glance. "Why do you think I had you chopping wood earlier?" I chuckled before taking a sip of my tankard. I should have realised. "Your interest in her is obvious to everyone here, Ragnar. Even Ciri can see it, though she's not stupid in ways to the heart herself. Think she nurses a little girlish crush on you herself. Triss, well, she is at least a little subtler in return in regards to you. But there's no missing the longing glances she sends your way."

"We're going for a walk tomorrow."

"Head north. There's a gorgeous little glade a couple of kilometres away. Kaleidoscope of colours. Babbling brooks. Animals frolicking. She'll love it... then she'll probably take her clothes off for you."

"Hmmm. Haven't been with a woman since I arrived here."

"Well, not like you've left here yet. But we'll leave eventually."

The next morning, after breakfast, I found Triss waiting by the main door of the fort, already with a basket in hand. I couldn't help grin as I walked towards her. Noticing where I was looking, she stated there was good in the basket, so that we could perhaps have a picnic, and that she might pick flowers on the way back, so she could add a little more colour to her room, and maybe even the fort.

Heading out together, we walked to the river before finding the path I knew, and we following the bank as we talked about life in general before I started to explain my life. I still think to this day that Triss believed me from the moment I told her. The fact I was from a place called Skyrim. That was I was the Dragonborn, though she'd heard of my gift from the others. I left nothing out. The fact I'd been a thief, even an assassin for a time. But also the fact I'd helped end the civil war and my last act had been a journey to Sovngarde, and killing the dragon that threatened to end existence.

"And you ended up here?"

"That I just can't explain. Last thing I know is that Tsun said he would be returning me home. Next thing, I'm waking up in Kaer Morhen, surrounded by strangers that I could thankfully understand. I can't figure out if Tamriel is part of the same world or not."

"We do know of a continent to the west, but anything else, we simply have no idea. Does that explain some of your scars?"

"Aye. I've spent a lot of my life fighting, one way or another. Got a few good scars front and back from a dragon or two. I've never been one to wear thick armour, so although I like to think I have talent, those of equal talent have certainly drawn blood over the years."

We eventually arrived at the glade, and it was as beautiful as Geralt had suggested it would be. Triss certainly liked it, leaning into my side as we stood by the side of the water, just listening to the water trickling, the rustling wind, and we could hear the sounds of the nearby forest. It was incredibly peaceful. Taking a chance, I wrapped an arm around her waist as she lowered the basket to the ground. "Well, this is a treat," she whispered.

"I'll thank Geralt later."

That made her giggle. "Not sure if he would have ever brought Yennefer here. Don't think he's brought her to Kaer Morhen before."

"It's not really a place for women. I'm sure you can agree?"

"Oh, there are one or two reasons why it's not so bad."

I glanced down at her as she smiled, walking around the glade until we found a flat bit of ground where we could sit down, Triss having packed a small fur blanket in addition to food and wine. Taking a seat to relax, we nibbled at a little food, drank a little wine, and continued to talk, really getting to know each other. The attraction was obvious between us, but I generally liked to get to know the women I felt an attraction to before we decided to take the next step.

"I do have something to tell you, Ragnar. A secret of my own, I guess." I heard the tone. This wasn't an easy secret to share. The look in her eyes suggested it was upsetting, so I grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze, as she took a deep breath. "They called me 'Fourteenth of the Hill'. According to a stone memorial on Sodden Hill, I'm a dead woman. It was during the first war with Nilfgaard a few years ago now. Thirteen of my fellow mages were killed. I should have been the fourteenth, but I somehow managed to survive the carnage and chaos."

"Hard to believe someone as sweet as you involved in such matters."

That made her giggle. "Sweet talker," she whispered, before clearing her throat, and there was another sigh before she moved around to sit in front of me. "I was left... scarred, Ragnar. No-one knows. I've not shown a soul but... before this goes any further, I need to show you as a sign of the trust I already feel I have in you." She undid a couple of buttons on her dress, though she already wore the sort of dresses that showed off at least a little cleave. Lowering it down off her shoulders, she held it with one hand as she then used a little magic to reveal her own scars.

They were not significant but I could understand immediately why she used magic to hide them. If she wore the same sort of dresses normally, her scars would have stood out. She met my eyes and I simply met hers and grinned, gently pulling her forward as I ran my fingertips across her skin. "We all have scars, Triss," I said quietly, "You've already seen plenty of mine."