The great hall of Kaer Morhen was lively again. Fire roared in the hearth, stronger than it had in days, its warmth pushing back the cold. The long wooden table had been cleared and set, plates filled, tankards half-raised, the scent of fresh roasted deer meat filled their noses.
A rarity that hadn't gone unnoticed. Lambert leaned back slightly in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, though there was a certain stiffness to his posture, as if he already knew what was coming.
He wasn't wrong. Geralt cut into his portion, inspecting it briefly before glancing sideways at Eskel.
"…deer me," he said flatly.
Eskel nodded slowly, chewing once before replying.
"How in the..."
He made a small pause. Then Eskel added while looking at Lambert,
"I didn't think you knew what those looked like outside of tracks."
Geralt huffed faintly.
"I'm more surprised he found one before it ran away from the smell."
Lambert stopped mid-reach for his drink.
"…how original," he muttered dryly.
Geralt didn't even look at him.
"Figured you'd bring back a drowner, skin it, and call it venison."
Eskel snorted into his drink.
"Would've explained the taste."
Lambert set his tankard down a little harder than necessary.
"Hilarious. You guys need to learn better jokes."
His golden eyes flicked between them, unimpressed, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"Just to make one thing clear, For you two, yeah, I would feed you a Drowner instead, but I did it for Seb and Ciri," he added, tone shifting just enough to sound almost, almost.. genuine. "For their wellbeing."
Eskel blinked.
Then leaned back, raising both brows in exaggerated surprise.
"Well, I'll be damned."
He looked to Geralt.
"Did you hear that? He cares."
Geralt gave a slow nod.
"Should mark the day. Might never happen again."
A few quiet chuckles spread around the table.
Even Vesemir's lips twitched faintly.
Lambert rolled his eyes, grabbing his drink.
"Keep talking.."
Sebastian, seated nearby, leaned forward slightly, a faint smile on his face.
"Still," he said, voice steady, sincere. "Thank you, Lambert."
That caught him off guard.
Just a little.
Lambert glanced at him, then looked away with a small shrug.
"…yeah, well. Don't get used to it."
Ciri grinned faintly at that, though she stayed quieter than her usual self, her gaze occasionally drifting toward Sebastian as if reassuring herself he was still there.
Vesemir cleared his throat softly, setting his cup down.
"Well," he said, voice calm, grounded. "That business is behind us now."
The mood shifted slightly,
His gaze moved to Sebastian.
"You had that creature," Vesemir continued. "Your skill, your… powers. you could have ended it quickly."
A pause.
"It seems you were… distracted."
Sebastian didn't hesitate. "No," he said, cutting in before the thought could settle the wrong way. "I didn't use my powers in front of Ciri."
The table stilled slightly.
"I was trying to keep it a secret from her," he added, "And yeah.. I was distracted. Watching her, keeping my senses open in case something else showed up…"
His jaw tightened faintly.
"…but that's not an excuse."
Vesemir's gaze remained steady.
"No," he agreed. "It isn't."
A brief silence passed between them.
Then Sebastian exhaled lightly.
"It was a mistake," he admitted. "Not telling her. You have a gift, so use it."
His eyes flicked briefly toward Ciri before returning to the table.
"I didn't want to look like some kind of freak in front of her," he added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Especially since I'm already too strong compared to her, that will hurt her pride.."
"Hey!" Ciri's head snapped up immediately, her expression flaring with indignation.
"We both know that's not true!"
She crossed her arms slightly, leaning forward.
"Give me a few more years and we'll see who's stronger."
Geralt didn't even look up from his plate.
"Sure thing."
Ciri blinked.
"You don't believe me?"
Eskel chuckled softly, raising a hand.
"Oh, we do," he said. "Especially with what you showed us, or rather... that poor mountain side.."
That dimmed her slightly, not her confidence, but the memory behind it.
Vesemir leaned forward, "And that," he said, "is precisely the issue."
Ciri looked at him.
"We can teach you many things here," he continued. "Swordsmanship, discipline, control of the body and your emotions…"
A small pause.
"But what you wield… that kind of magic…"
He shook his head slightly.
"…we are not equipped to guide it."
Geralt spoke before the silence could stretch too long.
"Sorceresses."
Lambert groaned immediately.
"Ah. There it is."
Eskel glanced at Geralt, one brow raised.
"So. Yennefer?"
Geralt's expression didn't change much, but there was a subtle shift.
"If she agrees."
Vesemir nodded.
"She will," he said calmly. "Power like that… it draws interest. Better it's guided by someone we trust."
A slight pause.
"Or rather… someone you trust."
Geralt exhaled faintly.
"Yen isn't exactly on good terms with most mages."
Lambert snorted.
"Is she on good terms with anyone?"
Geralt's eyes lifted, sharp.
Lambert raised both hands slightly.
"…what? Just asking."
Ciri leaned forward slightly, her voice quieter now,
"Can she teach me?" she asked. "To control it?"
Sebastian answered before anyone else could.
"Well, a strong sorceress is our best chance."
Ciri looked at him, searching his expression.
He gave a small, reassuring nod.
Eskel leaned back slightly, glancing toward one of the windows where faint light hinted at the world beyond.
"Snow's starting to melt," he said. "Paths will open soon."
Geralt nodded.
"I know how to reach her," he said. "If she agrees… she can teleport here quickly."
Lambert muttered under his breath.
"Great. Can't wait."
Sebastian leaned back slightly in his chair, one arm resting against the table, his expression calm, almost lazy. Yet his eyes shifted once… then again… catching something small and subtle.
Repetitive.
Across from him,
Ciri was trying very hard not to look like she was looking.
Failing, her gaze flickered toward him for the third time in less than thirty seconds before she quickly looked away, pretending sudden interest in absolutely nothing.
Sebastian exhaled faintly through his nose.
"…you can stop that, you know."
Ciri froze.
"…stop what?" she asked a bit too quickly.
He tilted his head slightly, one brow raising.
"The part where you keep checking if I'm still in one piece."
"…every five seconds."
Ciri blinked at him.
Then her eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion creeping in to mask the embarrassment rising beneath it.
"How did you..."
Sebastian gave a small shrug.
"Witcher senses," he said, completely deadpan.
Geralt snorted quietly into his drink.
Ciri's cheeks flushed faintly.
"That's not..."
"I'm fine Ciri," Sebastian cut in, a bit softer now. "Completely fine, and I told you not to blame yourself for what happened."
There was no teasing in that part, Just a simple truth.
Ciri studied him for a moment longer, as if deciding whether to argue,
Then her posture shifted, a spark returned to her eyes.
"In that case…" she said, pushing herself up from the bench in one smooth motion, "come on."
Sebastian blinked once.
"…come on?"
She stepped back from the table, already rolling her shoulders slightly, like she was shaking off the last of her lingering exhaustion.
"Let's spar."
A beat.
Sebastian stared at her.
"…now?"
He glanced toward the windows, into the cold blue of night.
"This late?"
Ciri smirked faintly, folding her arms.
"You said you're stronger," she shot back. "Come on, prove it."
There it was again.
That stubborn fire.
Untouched by everything that had happened.
Sebastian held her gaze for a moment,
Then sighed, long and exaggerated, dragging a hand down his face.
"…you're not letting this go, are you?"
"No." She said with a grin.
Then, slowly "…alright," he said, pushing himself up from the chair. "Why not."
Ciri's smile widened instantly.
She didn't wait, already turning toward the training yard.
Sebastian followed at a slower pace, rolling his shoulders once as he moved, testing his body. No stiffness. No pain.
Back to normal.
Behind them, Geralt watched the two of them go, his gaze steady, thoughtful.
"…we've really got our hands full with those two," he muttered.
Lambert huffed.
"No kidding. One blows up mountains, the other refuses to die, and the part that he is made of fire too."
Eskel chuckled quietly.
"Could be worse."
Geralt glanced at him.
Vesemir, seated at the head of the table, watched the doorway long after they'd disappeared through it.
His expression was softer than usual.
"Let them be," he said quietly.
The others glanced toward him.
"At least now…" Vesemir continued, his gaze distant for a moment, "…the keep feels alive again."
No one argued.
Outside, echoes of movement already carried through the air, echoes of footsteps and steel clashing.
/-\
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