The Witcher The Swallow and The Monster

The Wrap Up

(F/N) smirked as he sat across from Dandelion. His hand was far more superior. The bard wiped the sweat from off his forehead. His hand shook as he tried to reach for a card, but appeared to think better of it. He finally bit his lip and shook his head, "Pass."

The witcher smiled as he slapped his cards down, his pride swelled as he beat him in yet another round of Gwent, "Ha! Another thing you can't beat me in."

The troubadour shook his head, "You've bested me yet again, old friend."

"Want to play again?"

Dandelion was about to answer, but suddenly Ciri charged down the stairs, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. She pushed past the other patrons, "(F/N)! (F/N)!"

He gave the witcheress a look, "What is it?"

Ciri gave Dandelion a nervous look, "I'm sorry, Dandelion, but could you..."

The poet nodded, and stood, he made sure to wink at (F/N), "Say no more. Remember what we talked about in the tub, (F/N)."

The witcher rubbed his eyes, as Ciri sat across from him, "The tub? Did you and Dandelion..."

"No! He washed me."

She gave him a look. (F/N) shook his head, as he tried to explain his way out of the situation, "No, it wasn't...what's going on?"

Ciri shook her head as she tried to get the image of the two men out of her head, "Philippa and Margarita...they wish to talk."

(F/N) nodded, now it made sense, the last time Ciri had been alone with those women, it had almost ended very badly. But he couldn't let her see how nervous he was for her, "I see. Well, I'm sure you'll be able to handle your own."

Ciri shook her head, she leaned forward and whispered something that made his eyes widen, "No. They wish to speak to both of us."

The witcher nearly shot up from his seat, "What!?"

People gave him strange looks as he started tugging on his hood, his entire demeanor changed, the Lodge wanted something from him, that was never good, "What could they want?"

The witcheress shook her head, a strand of ashen hair fell out of place, "I've an idea what they might want from me. But from you...Gods. They have plans for us! and they're going to tell us what about."

(F/N) took a deep breath, as he tried to think of an idea, "Okay. Okay...let's talk to Geralt. He'll know what to do."

Ciri nodded as she set her gloved hand on top of his, they both trusted Geralt's word, "Good. That's a good start."

The witcher stared at her hand, he noticed Ciri's cheeks turn crimson. She pulled away and stood up, "Sorry. L-let's go find, Geralt." (F/N) shook his head, "Yeah, I know where he is," as the pair walked back up the stairs. His mind raced, not just because Margarita Laux-Antille, one of the most beautiful sorceress' in all the land wanted to speak with him, but because of Philippa Eilhart. One of the most ruthless women he had ever met, had plans for him. He tried thinking of what he could possibly have that Philippa wanted, this had to be about Ciri. It had to be.

The pair found the witcher sharpening his silver blade on the top floor. The idea of fighting the Hunt was clearly weighing on him. (F/N) was the first to speak, but Ciri quickly spoke up. It wasn't long before both of them tried speaking over the other. Both talking nonsense. Both wanting their adoptive father's full attention. Geralt's yellow eyes glanced between both of them.

It was about two minutes until Geralt finally nodded, both of them kept to talk over the other the entire time. The witcher smiled slightly as he gestured for them to stop, "Okay. I think I understand."