Polyanna: A Witcher's Mage

3 | Of Poets & Undergarments

The witcher, the sorceress, and the war veteran set off to find Dandelion's five flings and speak to them to gain information of his whereabouts. The five were Elihal, Vespula, Marabella, Molly, and Rosa Var Attre.

At last, Euphemiya finished speaking to Vespula, though with little information on her hands. Her short pink hair ruffled in the wind as the sun shined in her eyes, forcing her to flee to the shade, where she encountered a good friend.

"Miya!"

Said girl stopped in her place and turned to look in the direction of the shout, smiling when she saw her best friend, Shani. Well, not her best friend. Geralt was her best friend. She would be Euphemiya's female best friend. She made a mental note not to mention this fact to Geralt.

Shani enveloped her in a hug, brushing her short red hair against Euphemiya's face. They pulled away from each other.

"Are you free tomorrow evening?" Shani asked.

"Oh gosh! Me, you and Geralt can hang out at my house! Like old times!" Euphemiya grinned, her face threatening to split in two.

Shani laughed. "Sure. I'll bring some wine." She paused, looking over the sorceress. "Where are you going? It's not often I see you in this part of town."

"Oh, I was just meeting some people," she explained, then winced. "Which is why I have to go, sorry. I'll see you tomorrow!" 

Euphemiya quickly ran off towards the Rosemary & Thyme, where she, Geralt, and Zoltan would discuss their findings. 

"I'm here!" She called as she entered the brothel, now much cleaner than before. Geralt and Zoltan were already seated, so she quickly joined them.

"It's Priscilla, aye - must be her," Zoltan was saying.

"Who's Priscilla?" Geralt asked.

"Well, you got Callonetta," Euphemiya began. "There's also Madame Golbert, but I doubt Dandelion pursued her. Maybe Priscilla Barnaby or Priscilla Egelbeurt or Priscilla-"

"It's the trobairitz," Zoltan interrupted, then quickly explained who she was to Geralt. 

"Could be he finally met his match," Geralt shrugged. "But it's certain we have to talk to her." 

Zoltan stood up and ruffled through a few papers before picking out one. "She'll be performing in the Kingfisher Inn after sundown. You, me and Miss Merry-" he nodded at Euphemiya, who beamed- "approach her."

"Meaning we're in for an evening of poetry?" Geralt asked with dread in his tone.

"This is the poetry of all poetry, Geralt," Zoltan corrected, handing him the poster. "You'll see." 

He and Euphemiya stood up and left the place, unsure what to do now.

"You look tired," Euphemiya noticed. "You wanna take a nap? I've got a nice mattress waiting for you, along with some fluffy pillows." She wrapped her hand around his forearm as they walked.

He groaned. "That sounds amazing," 

She patted his chest. "Why don't you head on home-" she handed him the key of her house- "while I go and buy ingredients for your favorite meal?" Her smile widened when he groaned. Quicker than she expected, he planted a firm kiss on her forehead, causing her cheeks to redden. 

"I'll be sleeping while you do all the work," he said bluntly, causing her to flick his neck with her long nails. He laughed, grabbing her wrists. "I'll fix your window before I sleep, all right?" 

Euphemiya had a brief flashback of yesterday, when she threw her copy of 'Elven Sages' at Geralt, who was supposed to catch it, but instead he ducked and the book went through the window. ("Why the fuck did you throw it like you wanted to kill me?").

"Thank you, puppy." She grinned, wiggling her fingers (as her wrists were stuck in his hands). "Now let me go. If you want food, that is." 

"Empty threats." He tsked, but let go. "See you in a bit." 

__________

The first thing Euphemiya saw when she entered the room was Geralt's weapons sprawled over her living room, something she specifically said he shouldn't do. For gosh's sake, she bought a weapon rack just for him!

She stormed upstairs, fully intending to wake him up to tell him, again, that he shouldn't throw his weapons around.

"Geralt of Rivia!" Euphemiya barked as she entered his room, only to stop short when she saw him laying on top of the sheets of the bed, in only his undergarments. Geralt adjusted the book in his hands so it wasn't blocking his view of Euphemiya. He looked unimpressed by the disturbance. "How many times have I told you to put your swords in the weapon rack?" 

"This would be twenty-four," he answered.

She breathed through her nose, putting her hands on her hips. "Put your weapons in the weapon rack, or I'll have a whole crowd singing 'Toss a Coin to Your Witcher' by the time you're downstairs,"

Geralt grumbled as he stood up. "Everyone says you're so kind and innocent," he began as he pulled on his trousers. "But I know for a fact you're as evil as they come." 

Euphemiya threw him his white tunic. "Stop that. Get dressed." 

About an hour later, Geralt and Euphemiya were seated at the dinner table, their plates filled with grilled pork, vegetables and potatoes. Their cups were filled with Chateau Mont Valjean, a delicious type of wine from Toussaint, gifted by former duchess Adela Marta around halfway through the twelfth century,

"Do you know Priscilla well?" Geralt asked after Euphemiya finished telling a story.

"Sort of. She tried to teach me Gwent-" Geralt snorted- "but, as you know, it didn't work out."

"You'll figure it out someday," 

"I simply don't have patience for card games." She shook her head. "We have brunch every Sunday with Shani. That's about it. I didn't know she and Dandelion were romantically involved; Dandelion has said so many times he wasn't ready to settle down." 

"Zoltan did say he was in love with her?" 

"Aww," Euphemiya cooed. "Their babies would have amazing voices." 

Geralt chuckled. 

"When you find Ciri," Euphemiya began. "Where will you take her?" 

"Kaer Morhen," he immediately replied. "She'll be safe there." 

"Is the Wild Hunt that obsessed with her?" She asked out of the blue. "Because of the Elder Blood?" 

"It's extremely rare," Geralt explained. "Ciri's powerful, but she has trouble controlling it. The Wild Hunt will take advantage of every slip she takes." 

Euphemiya licked her lips. "What if she wasn't the sole carrier of the Elder Blood?" 

His eyebrows furrowed together. "Meaning?" 

"Exactly what I said. If there was someone else, would they go after them instead?" 

"I assume they would go after both," Geralt presumed. "And use both for their own gain." 

She nodded, pushing her potato around her plate.

"Would you mind if I stayed home tonight?" She asked, not looking up from her plate.

"Why? You okay?" he instantly asked.

"I'm fine, I'm just feeling a bit worn today," 

He nodded in understanding. "Of course,"

"Thank you, pup." She briefly patted his hand.

Once they finished dinner, they retreated to the living room, where Geralt told a story of the time he fought a monster, dubbed the Toad Prince, who happened to be cursed by a former immortal man. The highlight of the story was that the monster turned out to be heir of the Ofiri throne.

At last, Geralt left for the Kingfisher Inn to catch Priscilla's performance.