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“Today I am going to teach you how to bake a cake. The chocolate one you like so much.” Lambert´ s mother told him with a soft smile as they came back from collecting herbs.
The child smiled back. Happy, yet concerned too. “Alright, but don´t you want me to prepare the salve first? Your back has to hurt badly.”
Just as Lambert´s own back was still hurting from yesterday, when his father came drunk and angry.
Lambert had already cursed himself that he hadn´t prepared some salve in foresight. Salve the town´s healer was kind enough to show him how to make it. Or maybe it wasn´t out of kindness but annoyance of them showing up at least twice a week and barely able to pay with coin or eggs.
“Not necessary,it doesn't hurt as bad as last night anymore, my light.” his mother replied. “It doesn't hurt as much anymore. Except you need it for yourself?”
Lambert shook his head. It hurt, but he'd rather keep it all for his mother. He was used to such pain by now anyways.
So instead of tending wounds, little Lambert spends the afternoon listening to his mother, following her instructions, learning how to bake their favourite cake. It was fun. They laughed together. Lambert felt at peace. Of course only until his father came home again and all laughter died in the little house.
***
Lambert never wanted to be a Witcher and he still despised being dragged to this old Keep, being forced into a life he didn't want. Being forced to leave his mother.
However, he nearly finished his training. Soon he would be allowed on the path. Soon he could finally do what he had planned since he got here.
But first, he and four other Witchers had to activate their medallions.
It was the afternoon before the big day when Lambert snuck into the kitchen. He could very well die tomorrow, so he might as well make himself something good.
While most people here didn't like his cooking, nobody had ever seen him bake. To be fair he basically could only bake the one cake and he never had a reason or the motivation to do it here before.
When he deemed the cake ready he took some plates, but a piece on each one and put those on a tray. Then he went back.
His group has decided to spend this night all together in his and Dennis´room. So when he entered, four pairs of eyes immediately were on him.
Lambert guessed, they had already wondered where he had been.
“Is that...cake?” Dennis asked in disbelief.
Lambert grinned proudly. “yup. Thought we deserve some before tomorrow.”
“Didn´t know you could bake,” Julian remarked.
“Only this cake, my mother taught me,” Lambert answered with a shrug.
Silence filled the room. Most Witchers didn´t remember much from their mothers as they had been young, too young, when they had either been given up or being taken because of the Law of surprise. Lambert had been different. Nearly too old. Still, he had been dragged here and just been trained harder to make up for lost years.
Lambert gave everyone a plate with cake and they started eating. It was rare they could have such a pleasant dessert. They were lucky when they got some sweets the older Witchers brought with them from the path or when Vesemir was in a really good mood and made them something.
Lambert smiled slightly when he watched the others eat. He may hate not having a choice but these people truly became his brothers. Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be too bad. At least he wouldn't be alone.
***
Lambert will never forget how fear shot through him, paralysing him for a moment, as they heard the loud growl and the giant stomping directly to the shore. Directly towards them.
He will never forget the screams as they ran from death. None of them even thought to fight this monster. “He is most likely sleeping in his cave.” the older Witchers had told them just a few minutes ago.
He will never forget how Bastian ran in a different direction than them and just had his eyes on the giant, not noticing the drowners. One of them jumped on him, biting right into his carotid artery.
He will never forget how Julian screeched and fought as he was grabbed just to be thrown against Mikkel a moment later. Both died. For sure as the giant also stepped on them as he chased the remaining young Witchers.
Lambert and Dennis made it into the cave.
Dennis helped him reach a ledge too high to jump up.
Lambert turned around again, holding out his hand for Dennis to take but just as said Witcher was about to jump up and take it a big hand wrapped around his body and pulled him back.
In Lambert´s memory, this happened in slow motion. He could see Dennis´eyes widen in shock in fear. His mouth open in a scream Lambert didn't remember hearing.
When Dennis was gone it was silent again.
Lambert knew he couldn't stay here for long. His body moved on instinct, carrying him out of the cave and to his destination.
He survived this day. But it didn´t feel like a success.
***
The day had finally come. He could leave this place. Go on the path. His destination was clear, no matter what his mentors were suggesting.
So with his bag packed he left Kaer Morhen.
He did some contracts here and there to earn some coin, saving as much from it as he could. Until one day he finally stood in front of his childhood home.
He had no idea if his parents still lived here. If they were still alive. Only hope.
Slowly he got closer. Alone, he could admit that he was nervous. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
He could hear footsteps and a moment later the door opened. And there she stood. His mother. A few more wrinkles in her face. New grey strands in her hair.
They stared at each other for a long time. Then she raised her hand, not quite touching his check.
“Is that really you, my light?” she asked, voice hoarse, eyes teary.
Lambert smiled sadly. “Hello, mother.”
The next second he was enveloped in a tight hug. He reciprocated without hesitation.
She ushered him inside and said:” Father isn't home.”
That was a relief to hear. Lambert wanted to deal with this man. Yet he still had wished for a moment in peace with his mother first. Seems like that wish had been granted.
“I was just making our cake. Wanna help me?'' She looked joyful but Lambert could also smell the sadness coming from her. He wasn't surprised. Instead, he hoped he could change it.
“Of course.” he agreed easily.
In the end, his mother only watched as he did all the baking, he didn't mind though. It gave him something to do, to focus on, as he told his beloved mother his plan.
“Come with me.” he said, “Let's leave this place. Start a new life. A happier one.”
“But you are a Witcher now,” she replied uncertaintly.
“And? I don't owe them anything.” Lambert states, “Maybe they will think I am dead when I don't show up in a few Winters. Or they don't even expect me to show up since I made it clear I don't like it there. I don´t care.”
There was a moment of silence, then:” I would love to start anew. With you by my side.”
Lambert lets out a breath. Happy his mother agreed so easily. “I promise nothing will make me leave you behind this time.”
He smelled the tears before he heard the first sob. His mother hugged him from behind.
Lambert let her cry as he finished the cake. Everything would be alright soon, he was sure.
***
Lambert had left the house to buy some things for his mother. For their travel. More supplies, a bedroll, new boots.
He was back now but the first thing he smelled when he opened the door was blood.
He let his bag with the just bought items fall to the ground as he stared at the back of his father. Memories flashed before his eyes. Of pain, tears and fear.
His father turned around slowly. “Should have known you were the one telling her she should leave me.” the man snarled. “That's the only thing you were ever good in. Causing problems.”
Without thinking, Lambert drew his sword. What happened next was a blur to him.
When he could think clearly again his father was dead on the ground. Dead, and barely recognisable.
Lambert slid to the ground, back against a wall. He didn't regret what he had just done but he was still exhausted. Emotionally mostly.
As he sat there catching his breath, his eyes fell on the cake on the table. One piece was missing.
***
Lambert felt like he was on the edge.
Geralt, who he thought was dead, was suddenly back, with Amnesia though.
Triss was here too, trying harder than ever to bed Geralt.
Lambert desperately wanted to sit his brother down and tell him things. About Ciri, Yennefer, even about the bard, but for some reason, they were not allowed to. Somehow Tris and even Vesemir were convinced Geralt should remember things at his own pace.
Lambert didn't like this at all.
And then there was this new, young Witcher. Leo was his name.
He was an alright guy. Very eager to learn. Maybe too eager. To Lambert, it seemed like Leo had the wrong expectations about being a Witcher. Maybe from hearing one too many ballads about the heroic White Wolf. It was rather obvious how Leo idolised Geralt.
And Leo couldn't even use signs since he broke his fingers a while ago. So Lambert trained him even harder in sword fighting.
Then, one night, Lambert was in the kitchen drinking a glass of water because he couldn't sleep, he heard a scream. It sounded like Leo. A nightmare, Lambert guessed.
Lambert remembered his time as a trainee. There had been screams coming from somewhere in the Keep nearly every night. It always doubled after a group came back from the Trials.
But even today sometimes one of the Witchers would wake up, screaming or shouting a name.
A few minutes later Leo entered the kitchen. He looked sleepy but he probably wouldn't be going back to sleep for a while.
Lambert greeted the younger man with a nod but didn't comment on the scream or asked about the nightmare. If Leo wanted to talk about it though Lambert would listen.
Leo got himself a glass of water, drank it in one go, then refilled. Neither man said anything for a while.
Finally, Leo broke the silence. “Do you...Is there something you do to, I don´t know, forget everything for a while?” Leo asked, glancing at Lambert nervously.
Eskel had once told Lambert people were intimidated by him because he always looked so angry. Lambert had just replied that most of the time he was angry. At life.
But also, he was pretty sure people would be more freaked out if there was a Witcher walking around with an ever-present smile.
“A hobby?” Lambert questioned.
Leo nodded, then shrugged. “I guess?”
Lambert had several hobbies to be fair. Alchemy, Building things, fishing with bombs and painting. Though nobody knew about the last one.
“I do yeah. Isn't there something you like to do that isn't hitting fake people or waiting for Vesemir to fall asleep so you can sneak out?”
Leo grimaced at this, probably remembering Vesemir´s last lecture why one should not sneak out and do more exciting things than reading old books.
“Well, I didn't try many things.” Leo admitted, “but I remember, from back home, we had a bakery and I always liked to help.”
“So you like baking.” Lambert concluded.
“Yes, but I don't know any recipes.”
“I know one. Say, do you like chocolate cake?"
***
Leo and Lambert ate nearly half the cake alone. Which meant they had done a good job making it.
When Eskel and Geralt saw the cake they wanted a piece too. However, Vesemir ordered them to eat a real breakfast, they could eat cake after training.
Then the Salamander attacked. Leo died. Lambert threw the rest of the cake away.
***
Aiden was special. Had been from the first moment.
He had wormed his way into Lambert´s heart way quicker than the bitter Wolf liked.
However, Lambert never talked about his feelings. He showed it, he thought, with his actions. How much he cared for the cat that did not act, how the reputation of the cat school would make you think he would act like.
Lambert made sure Aiden always had enough herbs to make his potions, he shared his food, didn't complain about the cat stealing his blankets when they shared a room and bed in an inn. He let him use his upgraded recipes and taught him how to sew without poking himself in the finger every time.
But one day they were talking about their past. What they remember before becoming a Witcher. And of course Lambert had to mention his mother teaching him how to bake a cake. One of his last happy memories.
“So you can bake?” Aiden had been in his face in an instant, looking excited like a puppy.
“One specific cake.” Lambert clarified.
“You have to make it for me one day!”
Lambert looked away. “I don't think that's a good idea.” He just couldn't forget that everyone he had made this cake so far for wasn´t alive anymore.
“Oh, why not? I won't tell anyone if it turns out bad.” Aiden pleaded, “Please, Lamb, please!”
The Wolf made the mistake of looking at the cat again. Saw the pout and the big pleading eyes.
He hadn´t made this cake for many people, maybe that all of them had died was just a stupid coincidence, Lambert thought.
He sighed. “Alright, I will make you the cake when we have money for the ingredients and the time.”
Aiden hugged him in excitement. “You are the best!”
***
Quietly Lambert placed the cake on the table. He looked at Aiden, who was still sleeping, looking relaxed.
Lambert smiled slightly. He always hated to part from his best friend, but it wouldn't be for long. Aiden wanted to meet up with an “old friend” to sort out some business. For some reason, he didn't want Lambert with him. He wasn't insulted, he knew sometimes there were things you wanted to do alone.
So Lambert had accepted a contract for a werewolf. If it really was one. You could never be sure without evidence and just the words of the people.
Maybe this was even the last time this year they had to part, as Lambert planned to ask Aiden to come with him to Kaer Morhen this winter.
***
Tracking down the werewolf took longer than expected and he had been a tough fight too.
So Lambert wasn´t in the best of moods when he came back into town. He looked forward to a warm meal and a bath. He also hoped Aiden was done sorting out whatever business there had been.
However, when he entered the inn one of the first things he heard was “Have you heard about that Witcher? Been shot right in the eye!”
“Well, he's been from the school of cat, right? Probably deserved it.”
***
Lambert was more than a little anxious.
They were going to fight the whole Wild Hunt. As soon as Ciri and Geralt would be back, which could happen any moment, the Wild Hunt could arrive any time. Killing them all or maybe they had luck on their side for once.
Somehow Lambert needed to distract himself or at least relieve the stress.
Eskel was too focused on his own preparation to ask him for a sparring match or anything else. He couldn't go fishing or painting as he did not want to leave the Keep, afraid Ciri and Geralt would appear any moment. He also could not focus enough to work on an alchemy experiment.
Baking was the only other thing that came to mind. He didn't need to share what he made, so maybe it would be alright.
With that in mind Lambert wandered into the kitchen.
***
Lambert let out a sigh. The cake was finished and it had truly helped him relax a little. But now he was done and he was sure the worry would come again soon.
Before he could take the cake to his room, hide it there, Vesemir entered the kitchen.
The older Witcher stopped in his tracks. His eyes not on Lambert but the delicious looking cake.
"Did you make this?" he questioned.
Lambert simply nodded and bit his lip.
Vesemir hesitated a moment, then:"Can I try it?"
What should Lambert say? Would he say no without reason he was sure Vesemir would take it personally. He didn't want to actually argue with the older Witcher. Not so close before this battle. Not when every conversation could be the last.
But would Vesemir believe him if he said that his cakes were somehow cursed and everyone who ate them died. Well, except Lambert of course.
Why did he even make this stupid cake, Lambert wondered, angry at himself now.
"Lambert?" Vesemir questioned, looking at the man confused and concerned at the same time.
Lambert sighed. "Eat a piece if you must."
There was still the hope that everything had just been a coincidence.
***
Being defrosted was a very disorienting and just weird feeling. But on the other hand, he wasn't dead and that means they won somehow, right?
He looked around, checking if everyone was okay. He saw Triss and Keira getting up exhausted. Ves, helping Roche up. Zoltan sitting down, letting out a breath. Eskel holding his ear. Then there was Yen looking sad and worried. Ciri and Geralt looked defeated and there….
Vesemir. Dead.
Lambert wasn't even surprised. Didn't feel shock or sadness. Looking at Vesemir's dead body just made him feel numb.
***
Lambert felt lonely and like he didn't belong.
He thought he had found something special with Keira but it hadn't worked out for long.
Now he was basically traveling back and forth between Kaer Morhen and Corvo Bianco. He didn't feel like he belonged fully in any of these places.
There was also the guilt always in the back of his mind. He felt responsible for Vesemir's death.
He wanted to tell the others. Get it off his chest. But would they ever believe him or just think he was crazy.
"Hey, Vesemir ate the cake I made and I think that is why he had to die."
It sounded stupid, yet Lambert was sure it was the truth.
***
He was in an empty house, close to a small village. He looked at the cake he just made.
Lambert had wondered if he would maybe die if he ate it alone. Now was the time to try this, he decided.
But just as he was about to take the first bite he sensed a presence behind him.
He whirled around, one of his hand already going to his sword. However, now he was just facing a rather average looking man.
"What are you doing here?" Lambert asked. He doubted that this was the owner of the house.
"I am here to offer a deal." The stranger said and smiled. There was something dangerous about it and Lambert didn't trust him one bit.
"What do you mean?"
"I am a merchant, Gaunter O'Dimm is my name." the man said and bowed. "I tend to give people what they desire and something tells me you need my help."
"Well, you are wrong. I don't need your help and now leave me alone." Lamber replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Gaunter just smiled again. He walked forward and then leaned against the counter. "You could at least listen to the deal I have to offer."
While saying this he grabbed a spoon and took a piece of cake.
Struck by wondering, who eats cake with a spoon Lambert was too slow to speak a warning.
He saw Gaunter swallowing the bite of the cake and sighed. Another death probably caused. Now of a complete stranger.
"So what, I was about to say…"
Lambert didn't think about listening. It didn't matter. This man probably wouldn't live much longer.
Only a moment later he heard wood cracking.
Lambert looked up just in time to see the joists break and the roof falling down on them.
He managed to cast Queen in time but couldn't do anything to get the other to safety.
Lambert survived this completely unharmed, only coughing at all the dust.
He sighed. He couldn't believe this. Another person dead because of his cake. He never wanted this.
"Well, that was unexpected."
Shocked, Lambert looked to his side.
There he stood, unharmed and brushing dust from his pullover. How had he…?
O'Dimm looked at the remains of the house and muttered "Didn't even know Death had any children." Which only confused the Witcher more.
"You are alive." Lambert finally got out in disbelief and...relief.
Somebody survived his cake. Maybe there was hope after all.
O'Dimm looked at him. A grin on his face and a glint in his eyes Lambert couldn't quite place.
He walked up to Lambert until they were mere inches apart. "Yes I am, and you just became much more interesting."