The Baron

"Geralt?"

I had to wait a couple of minutes before there was a reply on the xenovox. "Morning, Ragnar. Where are you?"

"Still at Keira's house. I'll explain everything when I get there. You still at Crow's Perch?"

"Aye. There's a lot going on here. Baron is being an uncooperative bastard."

"Need my help?"

"Probably not," he stated bluntly, "I was thinking about asking if you wanted to just go to Novigrad, but I've got a bad feeling about all of this here."

"I'll be there by lunchtime."

"Okay, I'll see you soon, Ragnar."

I didn't lock up Keria's home but at least shut the door and made it look like someone was living if they happened to look through the window, but I doubted either of us would ever return to it. I did think about just torching the place, but gave it some thought. It was in good condition and certainly suitable for a family, so headed to the nearby village, asking to speak to whoever was in charge. Pointed towards someone called the 'village leader', an elderly man likely given the position because he'd lived there all his life, I told him about the home now available. Asking where the witch had gone, I said she had left the region, assuring him dhe wasn't dead nor captured by any witch hunters. He thanked me and said it would be used to house those who needed a warm place to rest.

The ride to Crow's Perch took a little longer than expected, even when putting the horse through its paces. The fort was based on what looked like some sort of island as only a wooden bridge allowed access onto it. Stopped by a couple of henchmen, they asked why I was visiting Crow's Perch.

"Did you allow a witcher to pass by recently?"

"Aye, what of it?"

"He's a friend and we work together."

"What's his name?"

"Geralt of Rivia." I took the xenovox from my pack. "If you don't believe me, ask him yourself."

"What the fuck is that?"

"Something magical. You want to ask him? Or do you want to let me through?"

The two shared a glance before looking at me. "Fine. You can pass, but we'll be watching."

"Fair enough. Don't intend on getting on your bad side."

The log wall around the fort seemed to offer some protection, but it was the fact there was only the one bridge across that meant the peasants were safe. Burn the bridge, and an army would never get across, not without having to rebuild it, and perhaps come under fire when doing so. Of course, it meant the peasants and those defending would be stuck too, but I had no doubt they would be prepared for some sort of siege.

Dismounting my horse, I walked through the village before climbing the hill towards the small fort itself. I received a few curious glances, and another henchman did stop and ask why I was there, repeating what I'd told the earlier henchman. Thankfully, he let me past after only a couple of questions, his opinion of Geralt already particularly low, though considering how many people disliked witchers on principle, it wasn't a real surprise.

I found Roach tied up to a nearby fence, so tied my still nameless horse next to it and wandered inside. Asking where the baron was, I was pointed to a door, flanked by two small shields on which laid a symbol I didn't recognise, but was perhaps the symbol of Velen. Knocking and opening the door, I walked in to see a heavy set man sat behind a desk, Geralt sat opposite him. Both looked at me.

"This him?" the other man asked. I assumed he was the one called 'The Bloody Baron'.

"Yes, this is who I've mentioned," Geralt replied as I walked over, "Ragnar, this is Phillip Strenger, otherwise known as the Bloody Baron."

I leaned over and offered my hand. He looked at it a moment before grasping it. "Geralt has been telling me a little about you, Ragnar." Releasing my hand, he gestured to the seat next to Geralt. Once I was sat down, he looked at me again. "Geralt tells me you're assisting him with his enquiries into his missing daughter?"

"Aye. It's a matter close to his heart. And as I now have nothing better to do… So what are you two discussing?"

The baron gestured at Geralt. "We were just discussing what I need from Geralt in return for the information he requires from me. Tit for tat, as they say."

"Sounds like blackmail."

The baron shrugged. "If you want to call it that. His daughter is important to him. My family is important to me. Geralt can fill you in on the details. As you were not here, I'll put it simply. Find my family, you get the information you need, you can move on. But, rest assured, while you are here, you are under my protection. Might not seem like much, but as you've been around the area, I'm sure you know that my word is law."

"Aye, the peasants certainly seem terrified," I muttered before turning to Geralt, "Okay, so what are we doing?"

"I'll leave it to Geralt to explain whatever his plan is." He leaned forward, no doubt trying to intimidate us with his large frame and his reputation for violence using it. "Find my family, witcher, and you will have the information you want."

We stood up and walked out, heading straight for the door leading outside. Moving away from any of his henchmen, the first question he asked me was what happened with Keira. It took a little explaining, and he admitted that, if it had been him, he'd probably have put a sword through her gut. "She used you. I'm sure you know that already, too busy thinking with your cock rather than your brain."

"And she changed her hair colour."

He caught the laugh that was ready to escape. "So predictable."

"Talked her out of doing something stupid, at least. Burned the notes she found. She's waiting for us at Kaer Morhen. Probably the safest place for her."

"I'm sure Vesemir is going to love her company, but… considering what else is going on around Velen and further north, you made the right choice. Anyway, I'm sure you would like to know what I've been up to. Most important detail is that Ciri was definitely here. The baron has at least told me of her arrival and I found evidence when searching the place. I'll put it in words you'll understand otherwise. Something is fucked up here, and it involved the baron and his family. I just don't know what yet."

"What are we doing?"

"I was going to head off to find a pellar. Wasn't sure if you'd want to tag along or not as it isn't a two-person operation."

"Sometimes I get the feeling you just want rid of me, Geralt."

"Only sometimes, Ragnar, generally when you're thinking with what's between your legs instead of your head. I could have warned you off about Keira but I figure it would have fallen on deaf ears anyway."

I chuckled. "You're right there. She wasn't shy in coming forward."

"I take it that wasn't the first time?"

"Certainly not."

"Triss didn't mind?"

"She encouraged it. If there is someone I've always been a willing pawn for, it's her."

"Why aren't you with her now? That's what I don't get."

"After everything that happened after Loc Muinne, we agreed to spend some time apart. The entire affair was a debacle. She needed space to get her head right. I was willing to give it, as I knew what lay on the horizon anyway."

"You're telling me," he muttered, "Honestly thought Temeria was safe with the way it played out." He sighed. "Anyway, if you want to join me, you're more than welcome. It's the only lead I have so far."

Mounting up, we headed out of Crow's Perch and back towards Blackbough. As we rode, Geralt explained what he'd discovered about the baron and his family. He was a drunk. His wife and child had disappeared one evening. The daughter was clearly a devotee of the Eternal Fire. The wife seemed to have sought a talisman from the pellar, or at least that's what he'd concluded. The baron had no idea why his wife had it.

As we didn't know the exact location of his hut, we did have to ask around the village and we were eventually pointed in the right direction. Riding up the narrow path for around ten minutes led us to a small house deep in the woods, far away from prying eyes. We dismounted a few metres back as there was at least half a dozen men at the door, one of them pounding away, making all sorts of threats.

"Look like the baron's men to you?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah. Wonder what they're doing here? You think we should ask?"

"I think we should. Without weapons, at least to begin with."

The six were used to pushing around peasant's incapable of fighting back. They took a look between the pair of us and no doubt knew they'd have a fight on their hands, should we choose to unsheathe. The largest of the men, and I mean large as in fat, pushed way forward. If he thought he would intimidate us, he was mistaken. "What the fuck do you two want?"

"Speak to the pellar," Geralt replied.

"Well, you can fuck off, he's ours."

"That's not very polite," I retorted with a grin.

He took a step towards me, and I just kept the grin on my face as he needed to look up. "You don't fuck off now, you can join the corpse of the pellar later on."

I sighed. "Geralt?"

"Got to admit, I'm not finding myself liking any of the baron's men so far, Ragnar. We let those at the inn live. I'm not feeling so inclined today."

I unsheathed my sword. "Good, because neither am I."

They were not used to people fighting back. They were definitely not used to people going on the attack. The fat one went down as soon as he drew a weapon. The other five didn't know whether to attack of defend. We put another two on the ground within a few seconds, leaving it three against two, but the three still alive knew their number was already up. Neither of us was willing to shown an ounce of mercy this time. Geralt had clearly not liked what he' seen at Crow's Perch, seeming to take a little joy in putting his sword through two of them, while I took the sixth and last.

"Fucking hell, if these were Temerian soldiers, no wonder we fucking lost," I muttered.

"They've grown fat and lazy, used to pushing around those who can't push back," Geralt stated, as we started to drag the bodies out of the way, "I'm thinking Crow's Perch might need to eventually be cleansed of the baron's men."

"What about the baron?"

"Honestly? While he no doubt earned his title, I won't say I have a good feeling about him, but there's definitely a long story. What I do know is that he isn't exactly lying to me, but I'm not hearing the whole story either."

With the bodies out of the way, the pellar opened his door and seemed to know who we were. In fact, I was left thinking he had been expecting us. I stood aside as I let Geralt talk to him. Half the time that was my job. Stand around, look intimidating, perhaps thrown a fist or two if someone didn't co-operate.

The pellar talked in riddles, and I had no idea what he meant half the time, but Geralt was patient and understanding. What I did understand was the pellar had given the baron's wife, Anna, the amulet that she must have dropped during her escape from Crow's Perch. To help find her and her daughter, the pellar explained he would need to ask the spirits.

Heading outside, Geralt following him, I heard him exclaim something about Princess. Wandering outside myself, I heard him explain to Geralt that Princess was his pet goat, and that he needed the goat to augur and commune with the spirits. Geralt sighed and looked at me. "Wait here. I'll find the goat. Pellar, anything you have to help bring her back?"

The pellar handed him a little bell, explaining he should ring it to attract her attention. Geralt headed off, muttering under his breath, leaving me alone with the pellar. As I figured Geralt would be a while, I did wonder what he knew. I swear the bastard could read my mind. "I know who you are, Dragonborn."

"Should have known. How much do you know?"

"I know enough. Your fate has been entwined with the White Wolf ever since you arrived here. I know your story so far, but as for the story that will unfold, I cannot say."

"I'd rather not know what fate has in store for me, though I always hope it will turn out okay." I paused a few moments before asking, "Why did she need the amulet?"

The pellar looked off into the distance. "The pellar has rarely met a woman as full of sadness as her."

"Do you know much about her story?"

He met my eyes and nodded. "I know enough to understand why she needed my help. As for the rest, I believe the baron can and eventually fill in the gaps. Though it will depend on how honest he chooses to be with you."

Geralt returned a few minutes later with the goat, and he didn't look happy, muttering something about a stupid goat and a big fucking stupid bear. Any question died in my mouth when he lifted a hand and his face suggested to simply not ask. The pellar was pleased to see his goat, though he asked for one more favour. He needed fresh blood. Geralt looked at me. "Your fucking turn," he grumbled.

I figured the pellar would only need something like a hare or rabbit, and there were plenty of those scurrying around the forest. I didn't think burning it would be a good idea, so used a frost spell. A couple of seconds at least slowed it down enough that I could grab its tail then I snapped its neck. If it wasn't needed for the pellar's augur, it would have made a decent meal.

What we learned from the pellar once he'd performed his ritual was something that left both of us rather stunned. Geralt has seen his fair share of shit over the years, but even he was left a little speechless by the revelation. Then he turned to me, stunned for fewer seconds than myself. "We'll be dealing with a botchling, Ragnar. This is something well outside your knowledge nor will you know how to deal with it. I won't be asking you to assist with this one."

"Fair enough."

"You must perform the Aymm Rhoin, White Wolf," the pellar stated.

"The Ritual of Naming? That's an elven custom."

"Spirits have no race; they honour not its meaning. Win a spirit's favour, and the spirit shall aid you. Ask and it will answer. Seek, and it will show you the way."

Thanking the pellar, we mounted up and began our journey back to Crow's Perch. "So have you actually ever dealt with a botchling before?" I wondered.

He nodded. "I have. To be honest, I usually treat them like most monsters in that I'll just killed them. Most of the time, anyone connected to it is already dead, and saving it otherwise is almost impossible. I know a story of one witcher who managed to change the botchling into what is called a lubberkin."

"And the baron? The story we were told?"

"I'm sure I'm not the only one who wants a word with him. Or knock his block off."

The rest of the ride took place in silence. I have no doubt Geralt mostly thought about dealing with the botchling. From the brief description he was willing to give me, it was something from the worst of nightmares. I could only wish him good luck whichever decision he chose. As for myself, the longer I stewed on what the pellar told me about Anna Strenger and what she had likely been through, the angrier I got.

Crow's Perch eventually came into view, and with the sun starting to set, there was no missing the smoke billowing from a building, and the light of flames leaping into the sky. Geralt and I swapped a glance and kicked our horses into a gallop, yelling at the baron's henchmen to get out of the way as we rode our horses through the village, peasants leaping out of the way, before we climbed the hill to find the barn and stables up in flames.

Leaping off our mounts, he ran straight for the barn while I went looking for the baron. It didn't take a genius to figure out he as likely responsible. I found the baron mouthing off at his men, hurling abuse and threatening all manner of punishments for imagined gripes. He took a swig from the bottle he was holding, so it distracted him enough that I could grab him by the collar and drag him away from the man he was threatening.

"What the fuck are you doing? Who the fuck do you think you are?" he growled.

"My friends call me Ragnar. You can call me the Dragonborn. Want to see what he's capable of?"

He staggered until he tried to stand nose to nose with me. He was a big bastard, but I still had an inch or two. "I don't think you have the guts to do a fucking thing. Not with my men around me."

"I don't think they're going to lift a finger right now. So, want to know what we learned from the pellar? Sounds like you're a wife beating piece of shit." He took a swing at me. I saw it coming before he even pulled his arm back, so I ducked and stepped to the side. "We know that your wife suffered a miscarriage. While it would be considered tragic, I do wonder if she miscarried before or after you beat the shit out of her?"

"What the fuck do you think you're accusing me of? What right do you have to stand there and…"

"Save it, Strenger. I have no doubt you've been beating your wife for years. Men like you are pussies. Act all tough but take it out on someone they claim to love and cherish. No wonder they fucking ran. I just wonder if you beat your daughter as well."

He saw red at that accusation, hurling the bottle at me, which I just managed to duck, before he charged at me. Dropping my shoulder just enough that he glanced off me and stumbled, I took all my weapons off and gestured for him to take another swing. "Come on, big boy. Let's see how you go against someone who can throw a punch back."

"Fuckin' wanker. You have no idea what I'm capable of. Who I am."

"What I see is a pathetic, needle dicked little man."

I was doing it on purpose, of course. Get him angry and I'd drop him quickly. His swings were so wild, I could easily step out of the way. It wore him out quickly, considering how drunk he was, so that all it took was a couple of good hits to eventually put him on the ground. On his back, I looked around at his henchman, eyes eventually falling on his second in command. "We going to have a problem?"

"If you hadn't done it, one of us would have done it eventually. Think you need another conversation with him."

I managed to drag him over towards a water trough and slammed his head down into it. "You need to sober up, then we're going to have another nice little chat. Me, you and the witcher. And, trust me on this, you start telling us porky pies again, I'm going to start using my fists again." I grabbed his collar and dragged him close so our noses touched. "You understand me now?"

"Okay, okay. Just let me go," he groaned.

I dropped him to the ground and stepped away, glancing to see Geralt was already out the barn. It was going to burn to the ground, but I noticed he had at least saved the horses, while it looked like he'd also saved one or two men. He wandered over and looked at the baron. "We need to talk. Now."

Lifting him up, we managed to drag him into the house and eventually into his office, dumping him into his chair as I poured Geralt and I a drink. The baron asked for one but the glare I returned caused him to look away. Handing a cup to Geralt, I remained standing between the two as Geralt wasted no time making his first accusation.

"You beat them."

"I never laid a finger on Tamara."

"But Anna?"

He looked at me for a moment before nodding. "That's another story. She always knew how to spark my ire."

"How? I know women can poke and prod, but from what we've heard… the fact she miscarried would suggest…"

"Twenty years we've known each other. She's seen me drunk and sober, she was there to greet me when I returned the victor, she was there to patch me up in defeat. Like no other, she knew where to press, where to pinch, so it would hurt."

"So to feel better about yourself, you pushed her round a little? Maybe a little slap every now and then?" I asked, not hiding the fact I thought he was pathetic for doing so. "And you expect us to believe you never touched your daughter?"

That provoked a reaction, anger blazing in his eyes. Better than the pathetic excuse of a man he was sitting sorry for himself, at least. "You're free to believe whatever you wish, but she was always the apple of my eye. She had the run of the place, ask anyone. She'd ride the horses, hunt with the men, at times join them on their rounds. And they'd send for her when I flew into a rage, for only she could calm me."

I'll admit I believed him about that. But there was no doubt the daughter had fled in support of her mother, particularly if she had been witness to what had happened over the years, and gods forbidding, if she'd been witness to the miscarriage itself. Considering what Geralt had found at the small shrine downstairs, the daughter had likely been heavily involved in the planning of the escape. And I had no doubt they would have received outside help to achieve it.

"You knew they ran away. You've wasted our time with all this running around." Geralt leaned forward. "I want the truth this time, Strenger, not the bullshit story you sold us last time."

The baron looked between the pair of us a couple of times again before he sighed. "I'd been soakin' myself for three days straight. Anna came to me, said they were leaving. I begged them to stay. She refused to hear it. I tried to stop her. She wriggled like an eel, we struggled... she fell. Last blasted thing I remember. Woke up in the morn, breeches heavy with me own piss, a large bump on my head. Sadly, they were gone. Know what that's like, witcher? No, how the fuck could you? I was left with nothing! Nothing! Only the bottle..."

Geralt and I shared a glance. This was when we got to the crux of the matter. I took a seat next to Geralt. My looming presence was no longer needed. I did pity the man having to tell us what he would share next. We could be hard-hearted bastards when we wanted to be, but just thinking about losing a child, let alone actually going through the experience…

We didn't even need to ask. A look into our eyes and he nodded. "Next... it only got worse. I awoke at sunset, not knowin' how many days had passed. Thought it was all a ploughin' drunken nightmare. An' then I went to the bedchamber, but Anna was not there. Instead... there was blood, everywhere. I knew. She'd miscarried. My breath short, my throat locked, I neared the bed...and saw it. It lay there. A tiny thing, defenceless... on bloodied sheets... dead. And it was my doing."

Geralt nodded. "Ragnar, time for you to leave. I need to explain to the baron what's happened, and then we need to discuss the next steps. What I need you to do is go around the village and warn them. No-one outside after dark, a line of salt at their door. Baron, your henchmen should also make themselves scarce during this. Ragnar, when you're done, you should remain in here. When the time is right, I'll come and grab you."

"I'll follow your lead regarding this, Geralt. No problem."

"Ragnar, send my sergeant in here. I'll give him orders. Whatever you command is the same as if I was doing it." I met his eyes and nodded. He wasn't exactly sober, but he was with it enough to know things were now spiralling, and that despite what he'd done, we were still trying to help him.

I spent the next hour or so going from door to door in the village. Each time, I think they were relieved to see me instead of one of the baron's henchmen. I received few questions when telling them to do what Geralt had suggested, obviously aware something was up. Doors were shut and locked, window shutters pulled closed. Walking back through the village after visiting the last house, it was practically deserted, the sergeant speaking to his own men, leading them back up the hill.

The weather had well and truly closed in by the time I walked back into the fort. The baron was nowhere to be found, finding Geralt in the baron's office, and he told me that what he needed to do would happen at midnight, and that I should just relax and get some sleep. I ended up heading downstairs to drink with some of the baron's henchmen and learned one or two things. All of them had fought for Temeria. Nearly all of them had lost loves ones and their homes. There was a real air of bitterness among most of them. They hated Nilfgaard with every fibre of their being, but knew that they were also now effectively working for them.

"What about you?" one of them asked.

"I was stationed near White Orchard. Black Ones smashed us just as badly there as everywhere else. From what I've learned, the entire front just collapsed."

"It was a fuckin' debacle. Never been sent packing as badly as we were. It was chaos," another grumbled.

"Lucky to survive. Many of us here met the baron during the retreat," the sergeant explained further, "Finding the previous lord had retreated, we took position here as it was rather defensible. Black Ones eventually arrived, Didn't want to fight us, offered to parley. Baron… agreed terms. Now we own this region of Velen and give them a tithe. They leave us alone, we can do what we want otherwise."

I could have suggested the local peasantry was living more in fear of the baron and his men rather than the Black Ones, but it would have just ended in an argument or a fight, and all I wanted to do was move on as quickly as possible. Most of the men eventually headed off to bed, so I ended up in the baron's office, reading a book by the fire, waiting for them to finish whatever they were up to.

It would have been well after midnight when the baron walked in, deathly pale. He barely looked in my direction, walking straight for the drinks cabinet. "Where's Geralt?" He didn't reply as he took a seat at his desk and practically drank from the bottle. Leaning onto his desk, I made sure he finally met my eyes. "Where's Geralt?"

"Downstairs. Outside. With… with…"

He didn't really have to say. It was easy to figure out what they'd been up to, so now I just wondered what Geralt intended. I figured he was going through with the ritual to turn the botchling into a lubberkin, so could only hope it would work. Despite his warnings, I put on my armour and weapons, heading outside into the driving rain and howling wind, lightning streaking across the sky. Perfect weather for what he was doing.

I found him meditating by what looked like a recently covered grave. He heard me coming, of course. "Told you to stay inside," he murmured.

"Baron isn't in a good way. Thought I should check up on you."

"I'm fine, Ragnar. Keep an eye on him though. He's a bastard but even I can understand what we did tonight wasn't easy. Whether he was actually responsible or not, we'll never know, but he lost a child just like Anna did." He sighed. "There's no doubt he loves Tamara, and he would have loved this child just as much."

"How long until the ritual?"

"Just been preparing myself for it. You'd best head inside. I'll take care of this for now. Once I have need of your assistance again, I'll come get you."

I headed inside and straight to bed as it had been a rather long day. Geralt did wake me in the morning, a simple shake had me alert immediately, suggesting I grab a quick breakfast before we talked. I broke bread with his men again before we headed outside. He'd obviously let me sleep longer than I expected as he had already talked to the baron about what he'd discovered. The ritual had worked, at least, and we had a couple of leads.

"I'm heading to Crookback Bog, Ragnar. It's the second time it's been mentioned and I'm convinced Ciri has at least been there. Doubt she's still there, but maybe we'll find her next movements."

"And where am I headed?"

"Oxenfurt."

*****

A few years earlier…

"Another tankard, innkeep."

He pushed forward another, throwing him a coin in thanks. I'd been in Oxenfurt for a couple of days. I didn't walk the Path like a witcher. Didn't take care of monster contracts as most were beyond my understanding and skill. But people still needed help from time to time, a bit of muscle to help resolve a problem. If they needed fists to do the talking, or a sword if things were truly out of hand, I would help out.

I was in Oxenfurt after taking care of a problem of some idiots hassling a few students that went beyond just a little teasing. There was stalking and harassment, and I didn't appreciate it when people made others live in fear. Surprisingly, they thought talking big in return to me, trying to intimidate, would work. It failed miserably, of course, and I laid the four of out with fists. And I made sure it was a public spectacle so that they could live with the embarrassment. There were the usual empty threats made when they hauled their bruised and bloodied bodies up off the ground, but I'd heard similar hot air from others. They'd barely show their faces in town again.

"Vodka, innkeep," stated a feminine voice approaching the bar, glancing to see a redheaded woman approach the bar. She looked young, no doubt a student of the nearby academy. Redhead, green eyes, pale complexion, not particularly tall. Right away, thought she was gorgeous.

Necking the cup, she pushed it forward and asked for another one before she returned my glance and grinned. "Ragnar Dragonborn?"

"Aye. How do you know who I am?"

"Please, most of Oxenfurt Academy now knows who you are on appearance alone thanks to the way you handled those creeps. I knew one of the girls who asked for your help. She's still swooning about the way you handled them all, then the fact you didn't want to take all the coin they offered."

"Just a job. Earned a few coin simply for doing the right thing." I took a sip of my tankard before turning towards her. "You know my name. May I have yours?"

"Shani."

"And do you always approach random strangers in bars, Shani?"

"Can I admit something?"

"Sure."

"I was one of the many watching how you handled those four creeps. Trust me, I'm just the first to get beside you at this bar." I turned and relaxed back against the bar and could see the number of women outnumbered that of men, and that was highly unusual in any establishment. "Many of them are probably glaring daggers at my back right now."

"I take it you're still studying?"

"I am. I aim on becoming a doctor." That made me smile, which made her grin broaden. "Glad you approve."

"I always wonder if I'm in the minority when I say I appreciate intelligence. And becoming a doctor is a noble profession."

"And you are… a mercenary?"

"I'm the Dragonborn."

The confident tone seemed to impress her for some reason. "And what is the Dragonborn? I've heard stories of the poet Dandelion but…" I groaned, which made her giggle. It was a sound that sent a dagger into the heart immediately. "You don't like his work? I mean, from everything he's written about you, the dashing hero saving the day, never mind the, um, er…"

"Ladies of my affection?"

That made her giggle again. "Yes, he does suggest you have enjoyed time with a number of lovers. Anyone… serious?"

"Aye, but they are understanding of the circumstances we find ourselves in."

"Do you have anyone special in Oxenfurt?"

"Not at the moment."

"It's a bit noisy in here. Would you care for a walk? The view is quite lovely at this time of night by the harbour leading towards the bridge."

"Sure. Could use some fresh air anyway."

Grabbing our coats, we headed out as the sun was just about set. There was a chill in the air as always when by the water, Shani shivering and she was quickly leaning into me, and seemed pleased when I wrapped an arm around her. We strolled towards the river, chatting about everything and nothing more all at once, showing far more interest in her life as I had a feeling she already knew quite a bit about me anyway. The harbour was always busy, so we took the path the higher path away from the actual docks, eventually ending up on the road that led towards the bridge leading back onto the mainland. Stopping halfway across, we leaned against the edge, as the view of the harbour and much of Oxenfurt was fantastic. Standing on the other side, we could just about see all of Oxenfurt Academy.

We must have spent a couple of hours just talking about anything that came to mind before finally heading back. I thought we'd go towards the academy, but Shani directed us back towards the centre of town, where it turned out she resided off campus, sharing a house with a couple of other students.

Opening her front door, I stood on the threshold as she turned back towards me. I let her make the first move as she stepped forward me, standing on tip toes, her intention obvious. It was quite the first kiss, feeling her body mould against mine. But that's all it was at first, a kiss. I didn't mind.

"I'd invite you inside, Ragnar, but… my housemates…"

"Sometimes it's best not to rush these things."

"Are you staying in Oxenfurt?"

"I am now." My response actually made her blush as I added, "I booked the room in the tavern for a couple of weeks. I do drift from place to place, but don't like rushing. I'm sure I'll find more work while I'm here."

"Would you like to see me again?"

"Though I'd like to see you tomorrow morning, anytime tomorrow would be grand."

"I'm free after lunchtime. I can meet you…"

"I'll come the academy and meet you. I'm sure I'll stand out like a sore thumb."

"Swooning, Ragnar. Everyone is going to know who you are by now."

I leaned down to her ear. "Well, it'll just make them jealous when you leave on my arm then," I whispered.

I kissed her again, gently pressing her against the open door, feeling her fingers dig into my coat and shirt, and when she whimpered slightly, from a kiss, a bloody good one mind, I figured she was tempted to invite me upstairs. Breaking off and stepping back, there was more colour to her cheeks than before, and a look in her eyes which I certainly liked.

"I should probably go," I said.

"Stay!" she blurted out, "Just… we can't have sex." I couldn't help chuckle at how blunt she was. "Trust me, I want…"

"Are you sure? You won't get twenty questions tomorrow morning? I don't care about the tavern."

She grabbed my hand, shut the door with her other one, and led me upstairs to her bedroom. It was sparsely furnished, but the bed was big enough for two, which was what mattered. Making out while undressing probably wasn't the best idea, and when she felt my erection press into her once I was only in my underwear, she couldn't help giggle again. "Sorry," she whispered.

"If it didn't happen, you would have every right to kick me out for not reacting in such a manner."

"Sure you can handle just sleeping next to me?"

"I can handle it. That's not to say I wouldn't want to do a hell of a lot more."

Her bed was in the corner of the room, against the wall, so I slid into bed first before she followed me, immediately turning towards me as we resumed making out. How we didn't end up making love, or just fooling around that night, I'm still not sure. But somehow, we managed to resist… with great difficulty. Spooned against me a little later, she started giggling again as it took quite a while for me to relax and for something to finally go flaccid.

"Sorry," she whispered again.

"I'm lying next to a gorgeous redhead who is wearing her rather delicate underthings. I'm definitely not going to complain."

"You're here for a couple of weeks?"

"Aye, that was the plan."

"Going to make the most of this then. From tomorrow. I need sleep right now."

I had a feeling I was going to be in for a great fortnight.