Work Text:
"Do you think fate wanted it this way?"
"You know, for a long time now I don't look back at what fate wants or doesn't want. Maybe it's wrong, but every time I tried to fulfil my destiny, it got me into even more trouble than I had before. Well, except Ciri, that is. But otherwise, I learned not to think about where my life might lead if I chose a different path." Geralt turned from the wooden table where he had been placing his belongings during his speech and smiled at the woman who had asked him a question about fate.
"Don't worry about what might have been, Triss. We're here. This is real." He crossed the room in three long strides and took her face in his hands. She looked at him with brown eyes, innocent despite how many horrors they had seen.
"You are no substitute. You never were, you never will be."
"I know," Triss replied.
“And yet I can see the uncertainty in your eyes.“ Geralt sat down next to her and took her hand in his, but she didn’t let him, and this time it was her who stood up.
"I have yet to bring happiness to anyone, Geralt. Only... annihilation... comes with me."
"Triss!" Geralt was up in a heartbeat and his hands gripped her shoulders. He made her turn to face him.
"You brought happiness to me." With that, he bent down and kissed her. The red-haired witch returned his kisses, only they tasted a bit salty from the tears that slipped from under her eyelids.
He took her in his arms and carried her back to the bed. Her hair spread out on the pillow like a curly halo, and Geralt stroked those tight curls.
“You and Ciri are the most important people I have,” he assured her as his fingers worked to unbutton her dress.
"Geralt," Triss whispered as he finished the process, exposing her chest. She didn't want him to have to look at the mess of scars and broken skin, so she tried to stop him, but he just shook his head and kissed her just below her collarbone, right where the hot torch had touched her at Sodden. He felt her stiffen and pulled away from her a little to look into her face.
"You can't possibly be attracted to this," she muttered with lowered eyes. She herself hated her body, and even more she hated Stregobor, who was supposed to relieve her of pain and scars, but instead simply left the makeshift infirmary in Aretuza because, as he said, all the wounds made him sick. She wouldn't even count how many nights she cried in Aretuza, because the dull pain woke her from her already troubled sleep, and because she was suffocating with self-loathing and terror that gripped her with every look in the mirror.
"Those scars belong to you. They prove your bravery and dedication, your indomitable strength. I hope that one day you will see yourself through my eyes and know how beautiful you are."
Triss didn't believe she could say anything without her voice breaking. So, she reached out, entwined her fingers in his hair, and pulled him to her lips again. He smiled against her and deepened the kiss.
-
The next morning, Geralt woke up alone in his bed. Kaer Morhen was unusually quiet. Apart from them, only Vesemir and Coen were in the fortress. But where was Triss?
After a short inspection, he found her on the ramparts. Her curly hair fluttered around her face in the morning breeze as Triss sang some song. He didn't know which one it was – no wonder, since he'd only listened to Dandelion's little songs for the last few years – and he found himself listening intently. Triss had a melodious voice, and her singing carried across the grounds of Kaer Morhen along with the sunshine.
"Good morning," he greeted her as the song ended. She turned sharply. She probably wasn't expecting an audience.
"Geralt! Did you hear me?"
The witcher nodded. “I don't know that song.“
"It‘s from Maribor. Keren or means Ray of Light. It's a celebratory song of a new day, meant for mornings just like this one. Filled with peace and joy."
Geralt smiled. "I had no idea singing was one of your strengths. Jaskier sure has competition.“
"You must never tell him this. He would hate me for the rest of his life." Triss gave him a smile as well.
"No, no, quite the contrary. He would try to win your attention so that he could properly discover the secret of your talent."
"Someone else already has my attention."
"Triss," Geralt squeezed her hand as she walked up to him, "I meant everything I said yesterday."
"I know. But I also know what's between you and Yennefer."
"What was," the witcher corrected her. "I know what you mean. The Djinn. However, even Djinn is not powerful enough to bind together something that is completely different. It‘s probably true that I will always feel some affection for Yennefer. But affection is not love, my witch. That, and the fact that Jaskier is more than invested in healing her potentially broken heart."
Again, just like last night, he placed his hands on her cheeks. "Do you trust me already?"
"I've always trusted you. It's just... No one has ever liked me. My abilities, my experience, maybe how easily manipulated I am. But never me," she shrugged.
Geralt cut off all her objections with a kiss. He felt Triss melt in his arms, yielding and conforming to his body. With her, he finally felt that it was right. Triss completed him like no one else before her, not even Yennefer. He picked her up in his arms, and Triss, who hadn't expected such a move, let out a yelp.
“I love you, Triss. You, only you," said Geralt, and they left the walls together. Neither Vesemir nor Coen were early risers, he knew they wouldn't be awake for a few more hours. Besides, their bedrooms were on the other side of Kaer Morhen. They had plenty of time to themselves, and from the way Triss was kissing him he could tell she knew exactly what his intentions were.
