Of Women and Wolves

Somethings Different

"Next time we take a contract on a Griffin, you are the one diving for the buckthorn. Ughhh this smell isn't going to wash out for days..." Fianna muttered as they entered the tavern at the edge of Posada.

"You were the one who insisted that I keep these bandages dry."

"You wouldn't need those damn bandages if you didn't almost let that Rotfiend disembowel you! Getting slow in your dotage Wolf?" she snarked back without missing a beat. She could actually hear his jaw clench in irritation from behind her as she made her way to a free table in the back corner where their backs would be covered. She signaled the tavern girl with two fingers as she sat down and they soon had two tankards placed in front of them.

The two monster hunters unstrapped their swords but kept them close and took a long draw from their well-deserved drinks. It had been five years since the events in Blaviken and Fianna and Geralt had, by unspoken agreement traveled side by side ever since. 'The life of a witcher is a solitary one' Master Vesemir used to tell them as he was training them. 'Maybe it doesn't have to be like that' she thought to herself with a small smile. She admired Geralt as he slightly cringed at the lyrics the bard was singing and sighed.

Fianna never really took the time to analyze or label what her relationship with Geralt was, she never needed to. They had always just been Fianna and Geralt, best friends and occasional lovers. She held a deep respect and love for her mentor, Vesemir. Eskel and Coen were the brothers she never had and she adored them both. She even loved Lambert in that awkward way one loves that annoying younger cousin that follows them around everywhere. But it had never been fraternal love she felt for Geralt even though he grew up with her for as long as Eskel. They held a deep mutual respect and neither of them trusted another person on the planet to have their back as certainly as they did each other. She often wondered if they had grown up in a normal situation, would their relationship have evolved into something more. Would they have committed to one another without the responsibilities that had been forced on them by their mutations? By the time they had been at the age to make the kinds of decisions that dealt with relationships, they were sent out on the path and it could be years before they saw one another again. Monogamy is unattainable in their line of work, no matter how much one could love another. A Witcher's libido is too high and the path too perilous to even contemplate such things. Yet things had changed over the past five years, they had never managed to spend so much consecutive time together since their training days. They still fell into bed together quite often because truthfully, no Witcher is ever trully satiated after sleeping with a human. It was easier to rely on each other for release than it was to visit a brothel, Fianna had always hated having to push past that initial scent of fear that all of her paid company emitted once they saw her cat-like eyes. The past five years had changed things. Fianna no longer looked at Geralt as just her best friend. Geralt no longer visited brothels and sometime three years ago they had stopped wasting the coin on separate rooms when they managed to find an Inn that wouldn't chase them away with pitchforks and rotten fruit. They were behaving how a committed couple would toward one another and their life together but without actually labelling their feelings. They didn't speak of it when they would make up in a tangle of limbs and just enjoy each other's presence as they lay there. Fianna never broached the subject and neither did Geralt but she knew he felt it too. They were evolving into something different. Something more. She was brought out of her musings by Geralt's gruff voice.

"Fuck. The bard is coming over."

Looking up she was met by the sight of a sandy-haired twenty-something-year-old in a rather flamboyant doublet. He was stuffing bread down the front of his sparkling trousers as he made it was toward them. She took a long pull of her drink to hide the amusement she felt at Geralt's expression. Her usually stoic Witcher looked as if he had just swallowed a lemon whole.

"I love the way the two of you just sit in the corner and brood." the bard said in place of a greeting.

"We're here to drink alone." Geralt growled, friendly as ever.

"Good. Yeah, good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance, except... the two of you. Come on, you don't want to keep a man with...bread in his pants waiting." Fianna laughed from beneath her hood at the bard's words as Geralt's annoyance rose.

"They don't exist" "I wasn't listening". They both said at the same time.

As if he was only remembering Fianna was there, he tilted his head trying to catch a glimpse beneath her hood.

"What don't exist?"

"The creatures in your song" he stated with finality. Fianna lowered her hood and smirked at the minstrel. His jaw dropped as he gazed in admiration at the woman opposite him. She raised an amused eyebrow at the possessive growl that erupted deep in Geralt's throat at the young man's love-struck gaze. This seemed to be warning enough for the doe-eyed man as he cleared his throat and looked back to Geralt.

"And how would you know that?" he asked. Fianna just laughed under her breath as Geralt started at him, completely deadpan. The bard's eyes jumped from the witchers to their swords, to their medallions and his eyes widened.

"Oooh, fun! White-haired, traveling together, big ol' loners, and four very scary looking swords. I know who the two of you are.."

Without even consulting her, Geralt stood and took his swords as he made his way to leave in a hurry.

"Looks like we're finished our drinks then..." Fianna rolled her eyes and moved to catch up with Geralt.

"You're the Witchers! Geralt and Fianna of Rivia!"

"It's Fianna of Lyria actually" she corrected without thinking.

"Ha! Called it!" The bard shouted at their retreating forms. They had just made it to the door when one of the locals called out to them.

"A job I've got for ya. I beg you. A devil... he's been stealing all our grain." Geralt stopped just before the threshold and sighed.

"In advance, I'll pay you. A hundred ducat." Looking at the skinny teen, she couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. His knees were trembling and his eyes were watering in desperation.

"One- fifty" Geralt demanded. He obviously did not share her sympathy. The young man started to route around in his pockets for extra coin frantically until Fianna intervened.

"Hold on. Is this a village collection or are you paying out of your own pocket?"

"It's mine and my ma's coin miss."

"Then you'll pay one twenty-five and no more" she stated compassionately.

"Oh thank you miss! You're a godsend so you are miss! I know you'll get the job done. Take no prisoners so I hear." The young man stated relieved as he removed the twenty-five ducats for himself. Geralt grabbed the coin purse and stormed out. 'Drama Queen' Fia thought to herself as she followed Geralt to their horses.