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Geralt wiped his blade clean of wolf’s blood and beast oil as he surveyed the ground before him. Those damn wolves had jumped him as he was following a trail through the Erlenwald; picking it up again after the ground had been trampled by the fight was going to be a pain. He began circling the edges of his fight zone; nose practically to the ground as he tried to see prints by the light of the moon. “There,” he grunted as his fingers traced the light print of a cloven foot. “Got you.” The witcher was after a dosuccubus: a rare species of succubi. Where succubi were mostly harmless, dosuccubi were most assuredly not. As well as being tougher and stronger than regular succubi, dosuccubi produced a poison they could administer with kiss or bite. The poison from a kiss left one horribly aroused and more susceptible to the dosuccubus’ charms. A bite would leave you fatally poisoned unless you literally fucked it out of your system. ‘A cunning survival adaptation,’ Vesemir had called it. ‘A fucking pain in the arse,’ Geralt called it. Sometimes literally when there were no women around. Geralt chuckled as he recalled the time Coën and he had fought a dosuccubus together and had both been bitten. Good times.

At last, Geralt found the cave where he suspected the dosuccubus was laired in. It wasn’t too far from town but farther than most would look; still easily within the range of a dosuccubus. He stopped outside of earshot to quickly sharpen and oil his blade. He regretted it moments later when he stepped inside the cave and heard the pained cry of a young man echoing out. “Shit,” he swore and rushed forward in a run, but kept his eyes open for a trap of some kind. He skidded to a halt as he entered a large cavern. There was the dosuccubus alright but she was attacking the strangest looking knight Geralt had seen yet. He was half dressed in bizarrely spiky full plate, and the skin that shown through was young and unmuscled for all his height and strength. He also fought as if he’d had practically no formal training whatsoever. He wasn’t doing too bad though so Geralt took a little time to study the man. The knight didn’t care for that.

“Miststück! By all the gods, help me!”

Nilfgaardian, even more interesting. Geralt watched a little longer just to be contrary then threw himself into the fight with a shrug. The dosuccubus quickly fell beneath their combined strength. The knight dropped his sword with a curse and clutched at his inner thigh. Geralt swore as well, “Did she bite you?”

“Yes, ah, and fairly long ago from how I’m feeling.” The knight fell to his knees and clutched at himself.

Geralt raised an eyebrow, “You don’t know when you got bit?”

The man began panting and tore off his helm. Geralt felt his gut clench in a good way as piercing goshawk eyes locked onto his and Geralt saw those eyes hazing over with lust. “No, I was in the forest. She caught me resting, knocked me over the head, and dragged me here.” He was able to grit out as he doubled over.

“Fuck,” Geralt said succinctly. If he was becoming incapacitated, it would take too long to get the knight back to the village. Geralt crouched down next to the man and grabbed his jaw to make him focus. “Look, you’ve got to fuck. That’s the only thing that will keep you alive. I’ll fuck you but it might get rough when the poison really gets to you. Do you understand me? Are you ok with this?”

The man looked surprised, “I have to fuck or I’ll die. Why does it matter if I consent?”

Geralt frowned, “It matters to me.”

The knight blinked slowly before answering, “My name is Duny. I consent freely and I thank you, Witcher.”

“Good,” Geralt ripped off the knight’s codpiece and sucked down his cock without further delay. Duny let loose with a surprised howl of expletives and his hands latched on to Geralt’s head. Geralt shook them off, not willing to let a stranger get that close to breaking his neck, but they returned. Geralt lifted his head to snarl at Duny, but he realized the man was almost lost in his lust. Geralt ripped off his belt and tied the two wrists together behind the man’s neck. He pressed an empty potions vial into Duny’s hand and then smacked his face lightly to get his attention. “You get scared and need me to stop, you drop this. Drop it and I’ll stop immediately.” The way Duny clamped down on the vial was almost gratifying.

Geralt leaned back in to what he was doing and within minutes he had Duny coming in a fit of ecstasy. He licked his lips and sat up to consider the man. Geralt blinked as he actually got a good look. The long aristocratic nose, a strong jaw, and almost feminine lips were enough to get him going, but that young body writhing in lust against restraint was a swift punch of arousal to the witcher. Geralt removed his armor and was almost done removing Duny’s when the poison built back enough to turn the man’s arousal in pain. “Witcher…” Duny said in a lust heavy voice as he gazed at Geralt’s naked body.

“It’s Geralt. You be a good lad and keep those hands up there, Duny. I know what I’m doing.”

Dawn had nearly appeared on the horizon by the time the young man stirred. Duny rolled off of the witcher’s chest and blinked his eyes open. Geralt popped his back with a groan as he sat up from the cave floor. Geralt ignored Duny’s suspicious looks as he checked the knight’s wrists for any damage from his belt. He clicked his teeth when he found a little bruising and quickly rubbed some salve from his belt pouch into the small wound. When he was finished, he looked up and caught Duny watching him with surprised eyes. Duny quickly turned his head away. “I appreciate your work, Witcher, but I think we should go our separate ways now.”

Geralt chuckled, “So formal, Duny, and after I took your virginity and everything.” Geralt ignored the young man’s scowl and leaned in to kiss him. “Just tell me if you feel alright. I didn’t hurt you?”

Duny huffed in embarrassment and looked away, “I am undamaged.”

Geralt waited for more but nothing was forthcoming. “Well, alright. As it pleases you. I need to take this trophy in to the castle anyway.”

He rose and was putting himself together when Duny quietly asked, “Are you much acquainted with her Majesty, then?”

Geralt shook his head and answered, “Did a job or two for Roegner, in his time, but this is my first time working for Queen Calanthe. Guess I’ll find out if she pays as well as her husband.” Once he was fully armored and armed, he turned to face Duny. “So long, Duny. Try to stay out of bizarre life threatening situations from now on.”

Duny said nothing more as Geralt packed up and headed out, carrying the head of the dosuccubus with him. But Duny had peeked his curiosity and it wasn’t as if this job had a deadline. Geralt hid himself in the underbrush and waited. A short time later, Duny appeared at the cave entrance. This time his handsome form was completely hidden by the full suit of black spiky armor and helm. The knight set off through the woods towards the village. Geralt followed Duny through the woodlands with all the skill of a Master Witcher. Something had bothered him about Duny’s story. It simply wasn’t a dossuccubus’s usual plan to clunk young men over the head and drag them off. Which meant Duny had lied to him for some reason and maybe had gone out to the dosuccubus’s lair deliberately. There were plenty of reasons for a young man to visit a succubus but the usual one could be achieved at a brothel for far less danger. Hopefully this wasn’t some bizarrely nefarious scheme. He had liked Duny. Nevertheless, Geralt was pleasantly surprised.

Duny was going to church.

“Alright, I didn’t see that coming,” Geralt muttered to himself as he stood up from behind the hedgerow and sauntered onto the road. Ignoring the looks the bloody bag he was carrying was receiving from the local villagers, Geralt strode up to the church, no, cathedral and slipped inside. A very fancy looking priest, maybe even a Hierophant, was up at the front in a beam of dawn sunshine intoning what sounded like some kind of ritual while a pack of knights in full panoply stood before him. Geralt’s eyes narrowed as he identified Duny in his spiky armor amid the throng. The ritual was long and complicated. In fact, it was a full quarter of an hour before Geralt even figured out what the ritual was for. When he did, he let out a snort and covered his eyes. “Can’t even believe this,” he muttered. The attendant priest began splashing the knights with holy water and Geralt began smothering chuckles. After another half hour of various purification and prayers, the Hierophant made a final holy gesture and fell silent. Geralt had to duck behind a column as his smothered chuckles became a lot more audible.

A noble came forward and announced to the knights and the parishioners, “Thus began the first trial of the supplicants. As tradition requires any betrothed of the princess to be pure of heart and mind, you will now prove your virtue. You shall be housed among sacred virgins within the inner sanctum of the Temple of Versail. Spend your week in prayer and fasting. You shall be attended by the sacred virgins and the princess herself will come among them to speak with each of you. Woe unto you if you prove yourself impure of body, mind, or spirit.”

Geralt let out a hoot of laughter before he managed to stifle his amusement. This was why. This was why an inexperienced knight was out hunting a succubus. And why a heterosexual young man had been so eager to be ploughed by Geralt when the succubus proved too dangerous to dally with. Duny had admitted he was a virgin during their tryst and thirty years of pent up sexual frustration was quite a powerful force. If he was about to engage in this ritual of virtue, then there was no way he could risk getting seen entering a brothel either. Geralt nearly choked with laughter. If he was remembering his religions correctly, the sacred virgins of Versail wore nothing but sheer veils within their inner sanctum. Poor Duny, he might have been better off not whetting his appetite right before walking into the feast, but maybe this would work out the way the knight had clearly planned. Maybe.

Geralt grinned broadly when Duny turned, caught sight of the chortling Witcher, and froze in deep embarrassment. He couldn’t see anything behind Duny’s imposing helmet, but he could picture the pale blush Duny had been unable to hide last night. Duny clanked as he abruptly turned away from the Witcher and followed the other knights away to the temple. Geralt was polite enough to get outside the church himself before he let loose with a roar of laughter. “Oh gods, only in Cintra.”

Geralt was still hanging about the area a week later. The land was rich with contracts if not rich with the payment for said contracts. But a few drowners and aughouls were enough to keep him in coin and he was enjoying the fruits of one of his labors, a barrel of beer, on a bench with a conveniently good view of the temple when the supplicants for the Princess’ hand were being released from the inner sanctum. There must have been five dozen knights and young lords who went into the temple. Only three fifths of that throng seemed to be exiting the temple however. Geralt raised his eyebrows and eyed the sharp blades of the warrior priestesses who escorted the young men out. The witcher was idly contemplating exactly what punishment had been inflicted on those found unworthy when a shadow fell over him. Geralt grinned slyly and looked up at Duny’s fierce gold-brown eyes glaring at him through the visor of his helmet.

Geralt held up a cup, “Care for some beer? Killed a wight for it. It’s pretty good.”

Duny’s eyes grew cold as he bit out, “Why are you still here, Witcher?”

Geralt’s grin grew, “Oh you wound me, Duny. Can’t a man want to have a drink with an old friend and catch up?” Geralt nearly laughed at how the younger man twitched in anger at his words but he restrained himself. “Come on, we can go to the inn. It’ll do you good to take that armor off after a full week. Maybe even get you a bath too.”

Duny grabbed the witcher’s arm and Geralt felt the pressure from the iron gauntlet even through his armor, “What is your game, Witcher? Why are you here?”

Geralt sobered as he looked at the younger man. Geralt shrugged off the strong grip like Duny might have a child’s and hauled the barrel to his shoulder, “I mean to share a drink with you, Duny. You provided me with plenty of amusement with this stunt and I felt you deserve a drink for it. That’s all.” Geralt shrugged the heavy barrel to a more comfortable position and headed out to the inn without looking back, but his sensitive ears caught the soft clanking of the young knight following after him. Strangely enough, Geralt couldn’t convince Duny to shed his armor once in the quiet inn. He shrugged and poured the knight a cup of beer anyway. The man gripped his cup of beer between weirdly elongated gauntlets but didn’t drink.

“Alright boy, so tell me. How were those temple virgins, eh?” Duny raised an eyebrow and Geralt laughed, “Come on now, comfortable seat, beer, and a bath coming. Least you could do is give me some pleasant mental images for when my bath comes. Were they beautiful?”

Geralt hadn’t actually expected he would get much out of Duny beside more amusingly embarrassed glaring, but Duny shot back, “More beautiful then you, Witcher,” without even a flush of shame. Geralt barked out a laugh. Duny startled as if unused to, well, Geralt didn’t know what the man was unused to and he didn’t have another chance to guess. Duny abruptly stood and fled the inn. Geralt furrowed his brows as he stared at Duny’s untouched cup of beer. This kid was getting more and more mysterious. Geralt shook him from his thoughts as the girl came up and told him his bath was ready in the back room. Duny could look after himself. Geralt had no business thinking about those wild pretty eyes. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from doing so while he had a nice soapy grip on himself in the tub.

It was a month later before Geralt finally landed a big enough contract to finance his way out of Cintra. A cockatrice was attacking caravans on the high pass and the local magistrate had had enough of his shipments being delayed or waylaid by the monster. Luckily the beast had grown fat and stupid on its easy pickings, and had left a ridiculously clear trail all the way back to its nest. Geralt clicked his teeth in disgust as he began to notice corpses clad in armor strewn about the trail the closer Geralt got to the lair. “God damn magistrate must have tried inspiring young fools to quest against it rather than pay for a professional. Fucking cheapskate.” He stepped out of the long cave he had followed to reach the upper level of a ridge and walked right into a fight. Geralt ducked the sweep of a black muscular wing and drew his sword. The cockatrice screamed and attacked him, and Geralt rolled quickly to the side. He came to his feet next to a rather familiar spiky black knight. “We’ve got to stop meeting this way.”

Duny smacked away the beast’s slavering beak and shot back, “Oh, I don’t know. It seems to keep working out well for me.”

Geralt huffed a laugh, “What did I tell you about bizarre life threatening situations?!”

Duny snarled as he took a good hit. “My whole life is bizarre, witcher. There is no escaping it.”

Despite Duny’s inexperience, he seemed to have a strange kind of strength and an almost feral instinct for the fight. It was easy enough for Geralt to change up his style to a quicker cutting offense while Duny’s armor and strength bore the brunt of distracting the beast. The cockatrice was almost down before Duny’s armor failed him. A horrendous crack rent the air as the armor buckled dangerously under a solid blow. Geralt rushed forward at Duny’s cry of pain and threw himself between the beast and his fallen comrade. He took a few nasty hits himself before he finally drove his silver blade deep into the cockatrice’s heart.

“Duny!” Geralt called and left the weakly moaning beast to die. He fell to his knees and reached towards the fallen knight. “We got to get this off you. Did it break your ribs? Are you bleeding?”

Geralt fell back as Duny surprised him with a swift push. “Get back! Leave off!” The knight dragged himself back, curling up reflexively around the jagged rent.

Geralt shook his head violently. “You could be seriously hurt, Duny. Broken armor is no joke. Let’s get it off you.”

“No!”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed and he pounced. Duny was strong but Geralt was stronger. His knife cut through the straps and he was able to wrench off the breast plate. He startled back as bloody fur was revealed to his gaze. He met Duny’s eyes through his helm and saw in them, for the first time, the wild fear of a cornered beast. Duny had never been afraid of him; not even when tied up beneath him and completely at his mercy. But his eyes were afraid now. Geralt placed his hands on the helm and slowly removed it to reveal a bestial face with Duny’s eyes. He looked more like a hedgehog than anything else; sharp dangerous spines had replaced Duny’s long black hair and soft brown fur covered a long muzzle filled with sharp teeth.

Duny lay perfectly still as Geralt looked his fill. The witcher calmly catalogued the differences while he checked Duny over for injury. The hedgehog man gasped as Geralt pushed against a soft fur covered chest; a small fracture judging from the lack of give. The longer the witcher simply looked for injuries, the more fear left Duny’s eyes. It was replaced by shock and a wildly deep longing. Geralt shoved an uneasy feeling into the pit of his stomach. “How long have you been cursed?” he asked gruffly as he ran his hand carefully under spines to check Duny’s back.

Duny’s wild eyes never left Geralt, “Seventeen years. I was just a boy and my father had enemies.”

That uneasy feeling was growing. Geralt bet it was seventeen years since anyone had looked at Duny without seeing a monster. Sometimes he hated the world. “Come on, let’s get you out of this suit. You have at least a cracked rib and you’ll need to lie flat before I can see if it needs to be set.”

Duny was perfectly docile under his hands as Geralt removed every scrap of armor and laid him out flat. He was even stranger to look at then. He really did look like a giant hedgehog but the more he looked, the more Geralt could see the man beneath the monster. The look in his eyes which had always intrigued Geralt at least made sense now. They had always reminded Geralt of a goshawk; wild, fierce, and slightly insane. Geralt figured spending over half your life as a monster would drive anyone a little mad. Geralt tended to Duny’s wounds while he thought. After he placed the last bandage, he laid one hand gently on Duny’s breast bone and caught the creature’s eyes with his own.
“I need some answers, Duny, and you owe me your life so I expect the truth.”

Duny had managed to master his shocked expression during Geralt’s ministrations but there was still an edge of madness in his eyes as he nodded. “Alright,” he answered more calmly than many a monster facing a witcher.

“What are you exactly?”

Duny shrugged bitterly, “I don’t know. I am a man under a curse. My family was slaughtered and, though I escaped the knives, I could not escape their murderer’s curse. Most of my day I am as you see. From midnight until dawn, I am a man once more but still filled with the murderous rage of a werebeast. It has taken me many years to learn how to subdue that rage and control the impulses the curse presses me with. Ten years in fact.”

Geralt studied the creature carefully. He did show all the characteristic features of a were and he had heard reports of werewolves mastering their curse enough to at least hold conversation. Duny would have had to develop masterful amount of self-control and willpower, but it was plausible.

“And do you harm humans?”

“I did at first. When I was first cursed, I killed several men sent after me. After that, I fled into the deep woods and wilderness. Luckily I am much harder to kill this way or I would have been murdered many times over by monsters more savage than myself. But I survived and regained control before I ever dared to set foot within miles of civilization.”

Another truthful answer. But was it too pat? Too clean an answer?

“Give me your oath that you will harm no human except those that seek your life and I let you leave here unharmed.”

“You would kill me after going to such trouble to save my life?” Geralt watched Duny read the answer to his own question in Geralt’s eyes. The last of the awe left Duny’s expression and cool calculation replaced it as he measured the distance between Geralt and the cave entrance. Duny pressed his lips firmly together, then swore very carefully. “I vow that as long as I remained cursed I shall harm no human, elf, or dwarf excepting those that seek to harm me first.”

Geralt nodded, “Good enough”. He paused, not really sure where to go from here. Duny lay under him, radiating the special blend of arrogance and vulnerability that had so drawn the witcher to him during their last encounter. The effect on him was only heightened now that he knew why a handsome young man had seemed so astonished that he could provoke desire in another. Geralt berated himself for his desire to take advantage of the young man, but Geralt felt his own lust rising as he took in the lithe limbs and an almost aristocratic brow. He leaned down and enjoyed Duny’s shocked look as he laid a kiss in the corner of the fang filled mouth.

“G…Geralt,” Duny stuttered and it was so unlike his usually confident tone that Geralt had to have more. The witcher scratched gently through the soft chest fur and Duny surprised them both by letting out a soft rumbling purr.

“Yes, Duny? You were saying?” Geralt asked as he found the man’s nipples hidden in all that soft fur. He toyed with them meaningfully while he gave Duny a teasingly expectant look. A warmth was spreading in the skin under his hands but Geralt couldn’t detect the blush through all the fur.

Duny arched under his caresses, but bit out angrily, “Do not mock me, Witcher! Who would sleep with a monstrous hedgehog beast?!”

“Well,” Geralt drawled as he nuzzled into Duny’s soft belly, “I expect I’m about to.”

Duny gasped in shock. It was a long while before he managed to get out more words, “Are you really such a slut, witcher, that you take pleasure in such deformity?”

Geralt looked up and licked his lips clean, “You know I don’t think that was very polite.” He thoroughly enjoyed Duny’s shocked look. “You see, I don’t like it when people call my lovers deformed. I may have to punish you for such language.” Duny’s shocked expression couldn’t hide exactly how arousing he found that thought. Geralt’s smile grew quite satisfied.

After a couple of hours and baths in a nearby pond, both men were significantly more relaxed. They lay bare under the sun on a soft hillock to dry. Geralt turned and stroked a hand down the soft furry belly of the hedgehog-man stretched out beside him. “How you doing, Duny?” he asked even as a satisfied smirk began to edge its way onto the older man’s expression. Duny’s fur was wet and glistening from their bath and it brought back fond memories of a very debauched nature. Duny’s spines rose and a small hiss escaped the knight when he caught sight of the Witcher’s expression. ‘Just like a real hedgehog,’ Geralt thought with delight.

“Now, now, I’m not laughing at you. Just enjoying the view.” He soothed the younger man until Duny’s spines began to flatten.

“I am well, witcher.”

Geralt frowned at Duny’s cool tone. “You know you can call me Geralt.”

“Perhaps someday.” Duny replied but softened his cool tone with an affectionate hand placed on Geralt’s arm, “I think it best to maintain some distance. Your skills at possessing me are far too great without some measure of defense.” Geralt was smirking even more until Duny punctured that pride, “One would almost think you to be of professional experience with such matters.”

Geralt blinked, “Are you calling me a whore, Duny?”

Duny gave Geralt a very arch look. The witcher swore and shoved at the younger man. Duny unbent enough to engage in a very brief boyish shoving match with the witcher before they both settled down.

“So, why were you out hunting a cockatrice.”

Duny shrugged and pulled a token from his bundle of clothes, “You saw that I am competing in the courtship rituals for Princess Pavetta’s hand. The second task is a Deed of Valor. This beast has gained quite a bit of renown and slaying it will certainly earn my second token.”

Geralt growled, “I suppose killing it with a witcher won’t count? Damn, I wanted that coin. I’ve been in Cintra too long already.” Geralt turned and was struck by the look of surprise Duny was giving him, “What?”

“You…,” Duny paused, “Nothing. Thank you for your help.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, but let it go. “So you really intend to marry Pavetta?” Geralt asked as he was handed the token Duny had won for completing the first trial over and looked it over. Duny would need three tokens to enter Pavetta’s birthday feast and be announced as a suiter for her hand.

“Who wouldn’t want to become King of Cintra?” Duny said evasively. Geralt gave him a look, “You don’t think your curse is going to be a bit of a problem?”

“Exactly the opposite,” Duny explained, “To break my curse I need to get a woman to agree to marry me despite being in this monstrous form. Nothing says she has to know I am a monster before she agrees to marry me. With such a formalized courting rituals, I can win her without ever revealing my face. I even have a trump card to put me ahead of all the other suiters.” Geralt gave him a skeptical look.

“Look, I think you are missing something rather important. You can get all the precedence and legality on your side that you want, but you are still going to have to get the girl to agree to marry you.” He snorted at Duny’s cold look.

“The girl will be ruled by her family, surely.”

“Maybe if Roegner was still alive, but Calanthe doesn’t let honor stop her from getting what she wants, and she wants a valuable alliance. You can claim you are of noble blood all you want but if you haven’t got estate and coin to back it up, Calanthe won’t let you near her daughter unless Pavette herself wants you.” The look on Duny’s face was more pitiable then comical, “This plan is about as solid as your plan to have a succubus fuck the tension out of you before wandering into a holy temple filled with sacred virgins.”

Duny’s face turned stony at the censure, but he couldn’t seem to stop from defending himself, “The plan was never to fuck the succubus; far too dangerous and unpredictable. You on the other hand are legendary for your willingness to plough any pretty young thing who stands still long enough and weak enough to be swayed by a man in danger of his life.”

“Stop calling me a whore,” then Geralt’s jaw dropped open, “Are you telling me you went out there knowing I was going to hunt the succubus and got bit by her on purpose?”

Duny’s superior look had returned in full force. “Of course. Your taking of the contract for the succubus was quite public, you know.” he replied smugly.

Geralt twitched. This man was getting more irritating by the minute. “Don’t you have any idea how dangerous that was? What if I hadn’t found you two in time? What if I hadn’t given a shit about your life? What if I had just let her finish killing you to give myself an edge?” the witcher’s voice rose with each statement.

Duny’s smug smile didn’t falter an inch as he shook his head, “Your reputation precedes you, Geralt of Rivia. All of those scenarios were far less likely than your taking pity on an inexperienced knight caught by a dangerous succubus and in need of a good ploughing to save his life. Naturally I timed the bite to give me the most amount of time to plead my case and even make it back to the village before I was ever in danger of my life. The most I had to worry about was if you would be a cruel lover,” For a moment, the hesitant look of the naïve young virgin Geralt first met arose before being smothered by Duny’s arrogant air. “But clearly you are too virtuous to harm a virgin.” Duny snatched the token back and rose to begin strapping his armor back on.

Geralt sulked quietly as he watched the inhuman body being forced into the unforgiving iron form. He didn’t like being manipulated. He liked the idea of this man remaining cursed all his life less. “Calm down, Duny. You’ve got a year before the Princess’s birthday party. Getting a young girl enamored is not that hard. Find ways to get in contact with her and just woo the girl. Hell, if you can get her alone with you at night, kiss her. That always sets young hearts a fluttering.”

Duny slowed his pace and looked over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have thought that you would be encouraging me to woo this girl under false pretenses.”

“I’m not. I think you should also tell her the truth once you are sure she likes you. A secret like that won’t be any good for your marriage.”

Duny sneered, “I’m not going to fall in love with her, witcher.”

Geralt gave him a look, “Duny, you are thirty years old, in the prime of your life, and never had an emotional relationship with a woman in your life. If you don’t come out of this in love with Pavetta, I will be very much surprised.”

Duny jammed his helmet down over his head and stomped into the forest. Geralt snorted and fell back on the soft ground. “Young fool,” he muttered. ‘None of my business anyway.’

Geralt was lounging on the bed and admiring the frankly quite nice room his contact had asked to meet him in tonight. Geralt didn’t care where he met for a contract as long as his employer was footing the bill, but he had to admit that a room in one of the nicest inns in town was a change. It had been a hunt filled season but not a good enough one that he could afford to splurge like this. The wine was good, the bed was soft, and he’d had the whole evening to wait until after midnight to enjoy it. There was a brief knock before two hooded figures entered the room. Geralt levered himself out of the bed and freed up his hand for his swords.

“Peace, Witcher.”

Well that arrogant tone could only be one person. “Duny.” The knight slid his hood back revealing his human visage. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d have the coin to hire me for a job.”

“The coin is mine, Master Geralt. I assure you this room and our time spent here will not be a drain on your pocket.” The high breathy tone was inordinately sweet, but Geralt was still taken aback by the unique beauty of the woman who drew back her hood. Duny held out his arm and the woman laid her hand on it lightly; the courtly gesture as natural to the both of them as breathing. Their rough garments did nothing to hide their combined nobility. “The Princess Pavetta, herself, I presume?”

Pavetta turned a delighted smile on Duny who shrugged and murmured, “I told you he was quite clever for a bounty hunter.”

Geralt frowned, “I’m a witcher, and its not as if it was that hard a guess, given what I know. Here’s another good guess. You two don’t want to offer me a fat contract hunting a horrific monster.” Pavetta’s confident demeanor flickered with sheepishness before her teenage bravado reasserted herself. Duny had better control but still looked a wee bit shifty. “Oh, I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“On the contrary, Master Geralt,” Pavetta assured him, “I hope that you will enjoy yourself very much. If what my suitor has told me of your encounters is true, I can only believe your enjoyment of them was at least thrice of mine at the telling.”

Geralt thought his eyebrows were about to take flight off of his forehead. “You told her?”

Duny frowned, “Did you not encourage me too?”

Geralt jerked his hands up, “About…!” He bit his tongue before he revealed Duny’s curse and just fell back on an old standby. He glared. Duny smirked and turned to Pavetta with a little gesture as if to say, ‘you see?’ Pavetta’s smile widened and she slid her hand proprietarily up Duny’s arm to pat his cheek.

“Master Geralt, forgive my crudeness, but I must speak plainly with you. I desire you to teach me those very unique skills you have so aptly displayed for my soon to be husband.” She tilted her head coyly, “I do mean for there to be quite a bit of demonstration during your teaching. Hopefully enough to make this worth your time.”

Geralt huffed, “Once again I feel it necessary to remind you, Duny, that I am not a whore.”

Duny shook his head, “No, you are not. We will offer no coin for your time, witcher. I only come to you with this now because you have proven most discreet and shown some amount of care for my person.” This admission seemed to embarrass him more than talking about ploughing. Geralt swore in his thoughts at the warm feeling that observation lit. He was getting in too deep.

Pavetta locked eyes with Geralt, “You have also given good advice. Duny revealed to me his curse and as you predicted, my love proved strong enough to overcome this. That your wisdom proved true was all that was needed to convince Duny that you were the one to guide us and your discretion has proved yourself to me.” She slid her cloak from her shoulders and Duny wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Duny and I are no innocent virgins. Our liaisons have been filled with love and, shall we say, courtly restraint. But since his encounters with you have been revealed to me, a passionate fire has been lit now that must be guided. Please Master Geralt, teach me to possess my beloved as truly and completely as I desire.”

Two overly romantic pretty young things looking at him with lust and begging him to teach then about kinky sex. That could only be trouble for him later on. Geralt sighed. Oh well, time to leap before you look.

“I do love the way you look on your knees,” Pavetta remarked as she sat naked as the day she was born on a satin settee. “The view only improves when a man is possessing you at the same time.” Geralt blew out a breath and tried to hold true to his task. It wasn’t easy. Pavetta had taken to domination like a duck to water. She hadn’t quite enough confidence to try and dominate him, but Geralt could already see that in time she would become a very talented Mistress. Geralt hunched down to cover Duny’s narrow back and wrapped his arms around the man. He bit firmly under Duny’s ear before he began talking in his deep voice.

“It’s wonderful when you find someone strong enough for you, isn’t it Duny? Such a strong will as yours can’t kneel to just anyone. You had to find a Princess before you could accept how much you want to be on your knees without shame. She will make such a Queen.” Duny cried out and spent at his words and Pavetta scrambled down to coo over him and embrace him. Together they gently untied Duny and massaged his reddened skin. “It’s your responsibility to take care of him, Pavetta, just as it is his responsibility to tell you when you are transgressing his limits.” Geralt chuckled a little at their amorously entwined bodies and simply picked the two of them up to place them on the bed. Pavetta’s eyes were wide at the show of strength. Duny’s were simply flaring with renewed lust. “Talk to each other, don’t shame each other, and love each other. You’ll do fine.”

Geralt turned away so they couldn’t see his fond smile and went to clean up at the wash basin. By the time he was dressed to depart, Pavetta had Duny shaking apart again under her hands. Geralt snorted and left the amorous lovers before they could drag him even deeper into their lives. It hadn’t been a bad night at all, but still. Geralt was happy to be getting out of town before Duny and now Pavetta tried to get him to sleep with them again. This was beginning to look distressingly like a relationship and that was something Geralt wanted no part of. He had slept with Duny more times than he had many sorceresses of his acquaintance and wasn’t that just sad.

Geralt didn’t just get out of town. He left the entire country. For a whole year. The witcher took contracts all across the Northern Kingdoms and ploughed enough young shepherds along with his usual shepherdesses to convince himself that his lingering ache for hard muscle and mad goshawk eyes was just a phase he was going through. He did not, absolutely did not have a ‘thing’ for Duny. He felt confident enough that he took a job protecting a caravan back to the capital city of Cintra. He’d stay in the city and there would be no chance for him to get another addicting taste of Duny again. Nothing could go wrong.

“Master Geralt! I must speak with you!” Pavetta accosted him on the streets, pulled him close and whispered, “I am pregnant!”

Why did this keep happening to him? Fucking Cintra.

“Ok, wait so you’ve been sleeping together for a year and a half and it never once occurred to you to go see an herbalist or cunning woman for some tea or a charm to ward off pregnancy?!”

Pavetta flinched and Duny tucked her into his soft underfur with a hard glare for Geralt. “It never occurred to you to mention it, did it?”

Geralt swiped his hand in the air, “I was giving advance lessons. I didn’t think I’d need to review remedial sexual information that everyone’s mother should have warned you about!”

Hurt flashed in Pavetta’s eyes and Geralt immediately felt like an ass. Ok, so maybe expecting the cursed since he was a young boy or the cloistered daughter of a Queen to know about pregnancy prevention was a little stupid of him. The three of them fell into an awkward silence only broken by forest birds. Geralt drummed his fingers on the ground. “Have you told anyone?”

Pavetta shivered although the air was warm. “I did not know. My maid told my mother when I stopped bleeding. I did not even know what was wrong with me. My mother was very happy to spell out all my shortcomings.” Geralt winced but didn’t interrupt the girl. “The courtship ritual has been “sped up” and mother is inviting nobles from Skellege to the betrothal feast. Supposedly they have been completing the tasks in their own land. I think she is just taking the opportunity to make an alliance with Skellege. They won’t care if I’m not a virgin on my wedding night the way the other knights will and mother doesn’t care for my opinion while she is so angry with me.”

“Not good,” Geralt admitted, “Has she made any mention of plans for the babe?”

Pavetta nodded grimly, “She has spoken of a secret birth, rumors of a miscarriage of “my husband’s child”, and then fostering my child out to some distant relative. She does not care for the idea of a royal bastard especially since I will not reveal my lover’s name.”

Duny’s grip tightened. “I will not let a child of mine grow up censured and despised. If all our plans fail, I will attack the caravan and spirit the child away into the forest.”

Geralt huffed, “Let’s try to come up with a plan before we fall back onto that. Look, your original plan might still work. Pavetta and you love each other, you’ve completed the trials, you’ve got your secret “weapon” whatever that might be; it might actually work in your favor that you are the father of Pavetta’s child.”

Pavetta shook her head, “If the court knew of the pregnancy, it would work in our favor. Even if it might be a bit scandalous. However, because I have become pregnant before marriage, my mother legally has custody of my child and the right to decide its fate. She has forbidden all to speak of its very existence until well after the wedding. Even if Duny was to reveal it at the feast, it would just make him appear as the worst of title hunters and the nobles would rise up in protest against such a man becoming King.”

Geralt felt a smile creeping up on his face, “So you need a way for someone else to take custody of the child but end up with you two raising it as usual. Duny, are you familiar with the Law of Surprise?”

Duny blinked, shared an astonished look with Pavetta, and slowly said, “Intimately…”

“Only in fucking Cintra…” Geralt muttered as he ducked another piece of flying furniture. He couldn’t keep up his Quin shield and support Mousesack at the same time, so he had to rely on his reflexes and his sword to keep the druid, Duny, and himself from getting smashed up by Pavetta’s uncontrolled power. The plan had gone off without a hitch until the Queen had fainted upon seeing her daughter willingly choose to marry a cursed stranger who had demanded the Princess by the Law of Surprise. With the Queen out of commission, the other young suitors had taken it upon themselves to kill the interloper, Duny. They might have succeeded had Geralt not tricked his way into the banquet and been there to help. If only Pavetta hadn’t gotten so damn upset by the whole night. Then maybe he wouldn’t be dodging candlesticks while a bizarre old man who carried around magic breadcrumbs of all things sucked him dry trying to calm the restless power of the Elder Blood.

They had almost gotten through to Pavetta when that crazy baron, Coodcoodak, suddenly decided this was the moment for his greatest ever collection of animal impressions. Geralt felt Mousesack’s attention being drawn away at the critical moment, so he shoved all his remaining strength through the bond and the druid managed to quell Pavetta’s power. Geralt felt to the floor in exhaustion while Duny ran forward to catch his withering love. Behind him, Geralt could already hear the Baron crowing away at how ‘he’ had save them all. Geralt growled and shoved himself to his feet. He would not murder anyone, despite his fervent dreams. There was still one last trick to play.

Eist Tuirseach of Skellege was helping Queen Calanthe to her feet. The Queen, while making the most of this moment with the older Skellege man, was watching Pavetta and Duny with an expression of realization on her face. Geralt knew he had to move fast before realization moved to anger. He stalked up to the young couple and got them on their feet. Pavetta leaned into her lover with all the drama the young woman could muster and began reciting an impassioned plea to her court; explaining her secret love with the cursed knight, who rather conveniently was revealed as the bastard son of a dead king. It was horribly romantic and had all the younger members of the court wooed; even the other suitors became enthralled as Duny described how he had completed the courtship rituals at great risk to his life, all for the love of Pavetta. They pretty much had the court convinced that the two were fated to be together and that was when Duny decided to go in for the kill.

“Lord Ravix of Fourhorn, you have saved my life and allowed me to stand once more beside my beloved. Ask anything you will of me so that honor may be repaid. Anything except, of course, my love for Pavetta.” A few of the maidens actually sighed at that.

Geralt coughed, “Sir, I must tell you that I am not Raxix of Fourhorn. I am merely a witcher, hired by the Queen to keep order at this wedding feast.” He could feel the Queen’s eyes digging into his back. Yeah, not going to get anymore contracts from her. “According to our code, a witcher will abide by the Law of surprise. I ask you for "that which you already have but do not know".”

Duny nodded gravely and had Geralt not known any better, he would have said that expression was confusion. “Then it is yours, oh witcher. But I have few enough possessions for me to not know what I own.”

Geralt tilted his head, “My senses tell me that your beloved Pavetta is carrying your child.” He could hear horrified gasps springing up behind him. Yep, looks like the court knew where he was going with this and were completely willing to accept bizarre witcher pregnancy senses. They could smell the resolution of a good story. “I claim your child, your blood of Pavetta’s body, to be raised as a witcher.” Duny turned to Pavetta with a disturbingly good expression of shock, but Geralt was tired of watching the young couple’s dramatics. He eyed Calanthe. He could see the Queen making up calculations in her head. Technically her objection could ruin it all. Eist leaned down to whisper something in her ear and Geralt saw her eyes light with satisfaction and a happy smile graced her handsome face.

The Queen glided forward, “Sir Duny, Pavetta. I see now that fate has truly brought the two of you together and what the gods demand, so shall we abide. I forgive you your deceit and offer my daughter’s hand to Duny, Prince of Maecht and son of Akerspaark.” Pavetta flung her arms around Duny and kissed him in front of her whole court. The court began to applauded but stopped short as a golden light swirled around the couple; sparkling like quarts in the torch light. It dissipated and Duny was revealed wearing an uncharacteristic poleaxed expression. “I’m not…angry,” Geralt could just hear him whisper.

“The curse is lifted?” Pavetta asked excitedly. Duny could only nod and pull her to his chest. As the court exploded into cheers and applause, Duny caught sight of Geralt slipping out of the ballroom. He tried to catch the witcher’s eye but the man never turned around.

Geralt patted his fifth Roach fondly on her strong neck. One of his best horses yet really. He flung his saddlebags up over her flanks. He had gotten out of that annoyingly tight doublet as soon as he could and back into his witcher leathers. Geralt was not ashamed to admit that he was fleeing the country before Cintra could throw another chair at his head. “Fucking Cintra…”

“I do hope you aren’t casting aspersions against my new country.”

Geralt turned with a fond grin, “Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating? A betrothal, a crown, and your curse lifted? Sounds like everything you predicted would happen and more.”

Duny stared at him for a long moment before he stepped close and kissed Geralt, softly but lingeringly. Geralt couldn’t help but tug the man closer with one strong arm. Duny broke the kiss and then gently butted his head against Geralt’s shoulder. “I think there are a few things which happened outside of my expectations, Geralt.”

Geralt memorized the feeling of the unique young man fitting against him. “That’s life for you. Throws a lot of unexpected forks in your Path.”

Duny nodded against his shoulder before pulling away. “I will miss you, witcher.”

“You know what, I’ll miss you too. But don’t worry. I’m staying out of Cintra from now on. It’s crazy here.” They both looked a little happier to have a humorous diversion for the real truth. That Duny’s child was now Geralt’s legally, but was in the custody of her parents until Geralt returned for him or her. So if Geralt never returned, that child would remain with Duny and Pavetta. After the child was too old for witcher training, Geralt could even give the child back, via letter of course, and the royal couple would have their heir again. All it meant was that Duny and Pavetta could never see Geralt again.

“I think it’s you, witcher, who bring the madness with you. I assure you Cintra is perfectly pleasant most of the time.”

Geralt swung up onto his faithful Roach, “Well, then you take care of it, Duny: this country, your wife, and your new daughter.”

Duny’s eyes shone up with conviction, “I will take care of them all. I so swear it on my father’s grave.” Then the man blinked, “Daughter?”

Geralt laughed and kneed Roach into a canter leaving the dumbstruck Duny behind him to disappear into the night.

The end for now.