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„Vica?!“ Lambert stormed into the library only to find it remarkably empty. Where was the pup? At one point in the last few week she had taken his warmest shirt and he had never seen it again ever since. Usually he indulged in her habit of casually borrowing his clothes, and given her slim body she could use any source of heat she could find, but it was two weeks after Midvaerne, the coldest time of the year anyway, and this year was a particularly cold one. If there was one person in the world he wanted to feel more comfortable and warm than Vica, it was himself. So he had to find her as soon as possible to get his shirt back.
He ran down the stairs into the Great Hall. If it hadn't been for his witcher senses, Geralt would have impaled him with the sword he was polishing in front of the fireplace.
The white haired witcher eyed Lambert suspiciously. „What's this fuzz about, Lambert?“
„Searching for the pup. You've seen her?“ He didn't feel any need at all for stupid small talk, but since he was here standing in the front of the fire, he could as well use it to warm himself. So he leaned against the fireplace while he shot his brother an annoyed glance.
Geralt, eyeing his sword against the flames and nodding contentedly, shrugged. „That much I figured since you yelled her name in a deafening volume.“ He sheathed his sword, then took an apple from the table nearby and turned it in his hands. „Last time I saw her she was in the yard, being busy with a wheelbarrow.“
Lambert groaned. „Sounds absolutely like something she'd do.“ Without any further courtesies, he went outside where he actually found her near the well, putting ground in a wheelbarrow that looked older than the Kaer itself.
„Pup, what kind of foolery is that?“
She looked up from whatever she was doing with the wheelbarrow and smiled at him. She wore warm trousers, mittens, a scarf and, over a jacket, his long lost warm shirt. „Lambert! Look, I'm planting herbs.“
He needed a few moments to let her words sink in. „You're,“ he wiped some ground from her cheek, „planting herbs. In an old wheelbarrow. In the dead of winter.“
She nodded, her eyes beaming. „I do. Couldn't plant them into the ground because it's frozen, so Vesemir told me I could use that wheelbarrow because it's so damaged that you can't use it for anything else.“
„Alright, pup. But why exactly are you planting herbs at this time of the year? Doesn't sound reasonable to me.“
She chuckled, grabbed his hand and made him look into the wheelbarrow where she had planted seeds in two accurate rows. „Most things you do, Lambert, aren't eaxctly reasonable either. Ever heard of perennial plants?“ She pointed at the upper row. „Sage.“
He smirked at her. „The kind you use to get hallucinations?“
The way she looked told him that this wasn't the fun kind of sage. Most unfortunate, really.
„Lambert, you do have your black gull for this. This sage here is used for the treatment of wounds, furthermore for seasoning, preserving meals and to brew tea.“
Lambert frowned. „You're sounding like Vesemir already.“
She ignored his comment and pointed at the lower row. „This is lavender.“
„I see.“
Vica smiled. „Planted it for you.“
„Why exactly? Think it's time for a new perfume?“
„If you'd like to go for something more feminine, lavender would be a nice choice indeed,“ her smile broadened when she heard him snorting. „But actually I wanted to use it for the cookies I make. And to flavour the stew.“ After she had wiped her hands on her trousers she hugged him. „And I sewed you a little bag. We can fill it with lavender. It may help you to sleep better.“
His expression softened when he stroked her cheek. After a quick glance around to make sure that nobody was watching them he pulled her closer and kissed her. „You know what would help me, too? If you'd give me my shirt back.“
She freed herself and grinned. „Well, I'm done here. So I suggest we go to your room and you try to get your shirt. How's that sound?“ Without waiting for his response she ran into the Kaer.
Lambert smirked. That girl definitely was something else.