The dress was beautiful. A waterfall of ebony silk, laced tight against her waist and hips, flowing over her legs and shifting with the movement of the shiny black horse she rode. A vision of moonlight skin dressed in night.
Beside her, a tall, thin man in a peacock shimmer of blues and greens, riding an older, tan horse. The wind stealing the words but his excitement clear, an elegant if calloused hand waving in the air to illustrate some point or other.
The pair were an odd match, the silent shadow and the bright bard, but the tiny hamlet they rode through held no love for either of them. The drab greys and browns of the farmers and their wives made the fine fabrics and shiny horses seem unreal, a child’s fantasy brought to life. The innkeeper shook his head when they slowed by his door, turning away before they could speak. Every door in the town slammed shut against them, leaving them alone in the dust of the road.
A single voice called out-‘’Can’t charm your way into a bed?’’
The pair turned, a dusty grey rider on a chestnut mare following their tracks up the road. The bard’s face lit up while his companion allowed a resigned sigh to escape her scarlet lips.
‘’Would I ever do that? Me, charm? How dare you slander my character in such a fashion-‘’
‘’Shut up Jaskier. Geralt. Finally caught up? ‘’ The mage’s perfect curls shifted against her pale skin as she spoke. The witcher ignored her, turning to speak directly to the bard at her side.
‘’We can camp in the woods. Two miles north.’’ He lifted his chin, indicating the road out of the hamlet and spurring his horse forward, leading the way towards the forest visible past the houses and fields.
‘’Why is it always camping with you? Never an inn, never even a barn to sleep in, just trees and mud. Do these clothes look like I sleep in mud? Does that dress?’’
‘’This dress has seen worse than mud.’’
‘’Alright, creepy as usual, thank for that cheery thought. You have your fancy tent thing though. Mud wouldn’t dare get on your clothes—or anything else, yes, I don’t need details. ‘’ He waved a hand at her as she gave a little smirk, urging his horse forward to ride alongside the witcher. ‘’My point is, do you have something against nice, warm beds? Or do you just have a thing for sleeping in the mud? Do you sleep under a tree when I’m not around? Or is there a nice, cosy cottage you go to when you’re not tormenting me?’’
The witcher raised an eyebrow at the babble and declined to answer, slowing his horse to match the slower pace of the witch behind them.
‘’ Found anything yet?’’
‘’Nothing that would suit all three of us.’’
‘’Four.’’ The word was a grunt, almost unintelligible.
‘’Four? Finally decided to accept your child surprise actually exists?’’
~
The camp looked basic, two bedrolls laid out by a small fire, a rabbit roasting on a spit nearby, three horses tied to trees a small distance away. The large white tent was new, especially the way it seemed to distort the space around it, fitting between the trees in a way that defied all logic and spatial reasoning.
‘’I hope I’m not being forward. But can I sleep on your floor?’’
‘’You’ve never not been forward in your life. Not a chance. Enjoy the mud.’’ The witch turned in an elegant swirl of skirts and vanished into her canvas bedroom, the doors flapping down behind her at the pull of a cord.
‘’No wonder she always looks perfect. I bet there’s a proper bed in there and everything. She could use a tiny bit of magic to keep the fire going all night, stop us from freezing to death out here.’’ The grumbling continued as the bard and the witcher picked at the rabbit, passing each other roasted legs from the slit and hunks of black bread pulled from their packs. Wordlessly the witcher stood to brush down the horses as the bard pulled his lute from where it had been tied to his saddle and started to pluck at the strings, humming under his breath, occasionally singing a word or two as he played.