Adelise Odette

[heiressofthenight]

The door slammed against the stone wall, the noise causing the guards to jump but not Audric. He did not let his gaze lift from the papers on his desk, his quill still scribbling away. “Leave us,” he commanded his men, not needing to look up to know his sister stood fuming in front of him. The guards left, closing the door behind them. 

“How could you?” Adelise hissed, her fists balled with rage as she charged over to his desk, the rage rolling off her in waves. Audric let out a heavy sigh, finding it far too early for this. He dropped the quill sitting backing in his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t slept well, and things had been piling up for him as far as his duties went. Hence, why he was trying to catch up on things before the feast later. Audric turned to face his sister, the pure venom in her eyes almost scaring him. Ever since she had turned, her emotions were so much... more. 

“I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific, Addie. What have I done now to displease you so?” he questioned, his tone almost mocking as he used her childhood nickname in hopes to lighten the mood. By the look on her face, it clearly hadn’t worked. “Don’t call me that and don’t play stupid,” she growled. “I just passed Thomas in the hall. Laughing with his fellow soldiers. Gleeful even. Here I thought he would be rotting in a cell, awaiting a death sentence for abandon his duties, his princess, and his brothers at our most desperate hour. Or did you forget how he deserted us and left us to die?”

Audric couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her flair for dramatics, “No, Adelise. I didn’t forget. It’s also not as easy as you seem to think. He’s one of the most trusted guards, a lot of the men look up to him. What do you think that would do to the morale among the men if I threw him into the dungeon? He’s already spread his tall tale throughout the lot of them. It’ll be hard to convince the men he was the traitor of the story.” Adelise scoffed at her brother’s words. The fucking coward. Yes, there would most likely be some sort of outcry from the men Thomas was in charge of, but if Adelise was able to tell her side, and prove what a coward he really was, they wouldn’t question it. “Who cares what a few of his men think? If they stand with him, they’re just as bad as he, I’d see them all hanged,” her voice echoed throughout the room, her words ringing out with bitterness.

“Careful,” he warned her, his tone now dropping into one of earnestness. If anyone heard her talking so flippantly, they could warn Thomas. Not to mention the fact that she had no authority when it came to executions. She had a tendency to push her luck with her mouth, something their father had warned her against on multiple occasions, and something Audric was beginning to see the full picture of now that he had filled his father’s shoes. He loved his sister, dearly, but her brash actions and words were no place for politics, something best left for the men to handle despite her beliefs. He only wished their mother was still close to her, being one of the only ones would could calm Adelise. Now, Adelise was lucky if Helena even gave her a passing glance. Audric felt for his sister, knowing how much their mother’s actions hurt her. However, he couldn’t let himself be affected by his emotions when it came to the safety and benefit of the kingdom, “I will handle Thomas when the time is right. For now, continue on as you normally would. Don’t do anything reckless.” He could tell she was about to argue further with him, but he held one hand up in warning, his finger pointing at her, “Don’t. I mean it.” 

It was rare Audric could intimidate his sister, but there were times such as these that he fit the role their father had left perfectly. With curt nod, she gave her brother a mock curtsy, “Your majesty.” Adelise turned on her heels and stormed out of the room, nearly hitting the guards with the doors on the way out. 

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

When she leaned into him, he took the liberty of reaching his other hand up to grip the side of her face, his torso twisting towards her direction. The speed of her strokes quickened with perfect timing, as if she somehow knew exactly what his body needed. The progressively intensifying sensation caused him to curl his toes, a muffled groan vibrating from his mouth to hers as they kissed so fervently that neither one of them had much time to breathe. 

He would have also taken the opportunity to catch his breath when she separated from him, were it not for the fact that he was holding his breath in anticipation of a rapidly approaching climax. His eyes fell from hers to her wet lips; he wanted more than anything to be kissing her as he came, so he roughly pulled her towards him by the back of her head to reunite their open mouths. He squinted his eyes so tightly that little white stars burst forth from the darkness, no longer able to focus enough to even properly kiss her back. Pausing the kiss, he tilted his head forward so that their foreheads touched; his mouth widened slightly and a soft moan escaped through the back of his throat under the cover of a shallow breath.

Within the imaginings of his mind’s eye, he reverted back to the scene at the beach; the sight of her breasts through her wet dress, the way it felt to slide the tip of his cock between her folds, and the rapturous satisfaction of being fully enveloped by her heat. Though the present scenario was hot enough on its own, her hand was nothing in comparison to being buried deep inside of her– which was all he wanted to do in this moment. But time was not on his side as he was now on the cusp of completion.

Post-climax would have been sobering– filled with the sudden realization of their carelessness– but he was never granted the opportunity to reflect, nor to finish. An indisputable, sing-song voice echoed through the corridor outside of the bath room which caused Geralt to jerk away from her so abruptly that water sloshed and spilled around the edges of the tub. He whipped his head in the direction of the door, immediately meeting Jaskier’s ghastly gaze. The bard had stumbled in, luckily not outright witnessing the debauchery, but there were enough context clues to bring him to the conclusion of what they had been doing; Geralt’s cheeks were flushed, her gown was visibly wet from bath water, and the bath water was still swinging from edge to edge.

Geralt could see the human’s gears turning, undoubtedly drumming up the punchline of a joke at the Witcher’s expense. His iris’s burned yellow with such an intense anger that Jaskier might as well have been impaled at the edge of his silver sword. “Fuck off, Jaskier,” he warned, attempting to stop the man before he caused any further embarrassment, but unfortunately, Geralt was not very intimidating while naked in soap-filled tub. Jaskier responded with an amused grin, defiantly remaining at the door frame, even leaning into it and crossing his arms arrogantly. 

“I nearly had a stroke at the news of your arrest, but it would appear that you are the only one receiving a stroke today–” 

The sight of Geralt angrily and rapidly rising from the water sent Jaskier stumbling backwards, laughter reverberating throught the halls as he practically sprinted away. There were no plans to actually attack him– yet,– as he knew that Jaskier didn’t have the balls to keep pushing him if he was no longer in a compromising position. However, this did not slow his retreat, aware that the entire castle could have been alerted to the situation by the Bard’s obnoxiously loud laugh. 

A trail of water followed his every step, the droplets on his skin making it difficult to get his clothes on at the speed attempted. He was turned away from her as he aggressively dressed himself, walking the fine line between sexual frustration and rage. Only when he was fully dressed did he look at her again, the joints of his jaw flexing as he clenched his teeth. “Your highness,” he muttered through pursed lips, bowing satirically to announce his departure before exiting the room without another glance.

His hunger for her only fueled her desires. Her hand moved even faster, gripping him tighter with each stroke. Adelise could tell he was close as his kisses became sloppy, his focus waning from her mouth as he focused on the pleasure her hand was currently providing him. As he leaned his forehead against her, she opened her eyes to watch him. She wanted to see him fall off the edge and into his bliss. 

She was so lost in their lust, that she failed to hear the bard approaching, jumping slightly with furrowed brows as Geralt jerked away from, water sloshing up over the edge of the tub and soaking the bottom of her nightgown. She quickly pulled her hand from the tub, as she realized they were not alone, turning with wide eyes to stare at Jaskier as her chest still heaved with heavy breaths. The room was silent for a moment as everyone stared at one another, but Geralt’s warning did nothing to stop the over the top man from making his snide remark. She had to bit her lip to refrain from letting out the slightest giggle as his innuendo.

As Geralt removed himself from the tub, she stayed as she was, watching him, and his backside, as he quickly dressed to chase after the other man. She had half the mind to tell him to forget it and spread herself out on his bed so they could finish what they had started for the second time now. The ache between her thighs was starting to become unbearable, she could only imagine how he felt. The constant interruptions robbing them of their climaxes. The next time she got him alone, she would let the world burn if it meant the two of them could finally finish and enjoy each other fully. 

Adelise bowed her head in return, looking far more regal than she should in her current state as he left the room. She had no fear of the bard and what he saw, knowing he would never betray his friend. He may seem dense at times, but she knew he was smart when the time called for it. She contemplated waiting for the Witcher’s return, but she knew it would be pressing their luck. She quietly stood, bending down to ring out the the bottom of her skirt onto the stone floor. Quickly and silently, she made her way through the dark hallway, her senses sharp and on alert for anyone that may be lurking about. 

Once safely back in her chambers, she changed into dry clothes before climbing into bed. Without hesitation, she let her hand drift below the covers, pulling her nightgown up her thighs, her delicate fingers finding her slick folds. Adelise imagined herself back on the beach with him, only this time, they weren’t interrupted. She rolled them over so she was on top of him, riding him with vigor, his large hands clenched tightly to her breasts, his grunts driving her on. She enjoyed the animalistic look in his gaze, one that surely matched her own as she rolled her hips against his over and over. She loved how deep it felt from this angle, his large cock filling and stretching her. 

Her fingers slowly circled her clit, beginning to rub faster and faster, as the pleasure coiled in her belly. She was absolutely aching to be filled by him once more, the void between her legs making her feel hollow, but she would take what she could get at the moment, even if it was only by her own hand. She was already so close as her other hand began to play with her breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples, imagining it was Geralt’s mouth on her. With a hushed cry, she came hard, her thighs clenching tightly around her own hand, her whole body tensing for a few brief moments before relaxing as she came down from her high. Her breathing evened out as she wiped her hand on her nightgown. She felt somewhat better, but no where near satisfied. The only thing that could truly satisfy her now, was the Witcher himself. 

[anneboleynqueen]

official promotional photography for the tudors - 53/?

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

Not an ounce of concern could be found within him at her threat– it was empty and he knew it. It could not be forgotten that she had been the one to initiate things on the beach; it was a strong reminder that she wanted this just as desperately as he did. Not only did he feel confident in this, but her actions betrayed her words, which made him even more secure in the fact that she was not going anywhere. It was not one-sided, however, as she held the proof of his attraction in her hand, her touch causing his spine to stiffen, yellow eyes disappearing behind his closing lids. 

He flexed his hips, pushing into her hand’s gentle grip as she swirled her thumb, an involuntary reaction from the sensitivity of that spot. His mouth fell into an open grin, exhaling a brief and breathy chuckle both from the sensation and from her words. As she began stroking him, he pressed the balls of his feet against the far end of the tub, causing his torso to rise slightly. The bath water rocked gently from end to end in response. He let his face rest slightly against hers as she placed gentle kisses along his cheek, fingernails scratching against the wood at the aggressive nature of her gentle bite. 

He lifted his left arm around her, a few water droplets trickling onto her hair and down her back as he let it drape around her waist. His fingers played with the bottom frays of her curls, noticing how soft they were– he briefly wished that he could have been present for her bath. Snaking beneath her locks, he slid his hand up her back until his fingers curled around the back of her neck, applying a firm but careful pressure that he used to direct her face toward his. 

“–I desire more than just your hand,” he growled lowly into her mouth, leaving no time for her to respond as he hungrily pulled her parted lips against his.

Adelise arched her back into his large palm, goosebumps rising on her skin as the water soaked through her nightgown where he touched her beneath her hair. Her nipples pebbled at the sensation, becoming visible through the front of her thin gown. Her breathing became heavier as she watched his reaction to her touch, the way his thrusted up against her hand fueling her desire for him even more. 

She smiled with satisfaction as he pulled her mouth to his, unable to protest, not that she had any intention of doing so. She met his hunger with equal zealous, wasting no time in opening her mouth to his, allowing her tongue to trace his bottom lip before sliding it into his mouth to meet his. She ignore the way the edge of the tub bit into her ribs, not even noticing as she pushed herself even closer to him. A soft moan escaped the back of her throat, her hand stroking him harder and faster as she kissed him. The sound of the water sloshing in the tub matched the pace of her hand, filling the room a sound other than just their heavy breathing and kissing. Her inner thighs were slick with arousal as she clenched them together, forcing herself to remain at the side of the tub and not climb into his lap, water and any form of dignity be damned. 

Adelise had to remember where they were and who she was. They weren’t on the beach anymore, they were in the castle where anyone could find them, and report her misdeeds back to her brother. She could try to compel whoever caught them if it came to that, but she still wasn’t very good and there was no guarantee her compulsion would hold. She truly didn’t think her brother would harm her, but that didn’t mean the same for Geralt. Audric would have no problem cropping him at the neck for just laying a finger on her. She pushed those thoughts from her mind. 

Her other hand found its way to his bicep, gripping it tightly as her nails dug into his skin, making crescent shape indentations. She pulled away from his mouth momentarily to take a breath, her eyes meeting his once more, before eagerly finding his lips again. Her strokes became even faster, making sure to circle the head of his cock with her palm on every other pass, applying just right amount of pressure.

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

His chest heaved as he scoffed, raising his eyebrows as if to say: ‘you’re not wrong’. Of course, he would not outright agree with her, lest he somehow insult her by saying that the short time they had spent together wasn’t good– because that couldn’t be further from the truth. But she was not wrong, it was not even slightly worth it; the desire to find the nearest brothel to relieve his pent up frustrations had been on his mind all day. He may have even wondered–no, vividly pictured– what she looked like relieving her own frustrations in the privacy of her bedchamber. Even in this moment, he found himself drifting from immediate consciousness thinking about it– until he heard the ruffling of her gown as she shifted her weight towards him.

The concern was visible on his forehead, tightly-knitted brows creating wrinkles between them upon hearing her suggestion, his eyes darting to the left to peer at her through the corner of his eyes. Lungs came to an abrupt halt, cutting off his inhale at her touch. His expression communicated two contradicting things very clearly: that her proposition was terrifying– but tempting. 

Her touch would have been enough, but her warm breath against his ear, and the words she muttered into it, brought him to full solidity. Like the true man he was, common sense immediately fled– faster than Thomas from battle. Rather than with words, Geralt responded with action, straightening his posture and falling back against the wall of the tub again. His knee dropped until it was almost fully submerged, stretching his legs as far as the tub would allow, falling out of reach of her fingertips. Concealed by the foggy water, his erection flipped upwards and came to rest on top of his lower abdomen, swollen head just below the naval. He let his elbows rest against the edge again, ensuring that he raised his left arm around hers that was extended into the water. Despite this new, relaxed position, he did not turn his head away from her, nor did he avoid intense eye contact– wanting to differentiate his earlier reaction to the redhead’s wandering touch from his reaction to Adelise’s offer. Before, it was casual, a simple acceptance of the redhead’s proposition. Now, it was a need, almost a demanding look in his yellow eyes– he didn’t want the shy touch of a coy servant girl. He wanted hers. 

“Is this bath alone not worthy enough?“

Her smirk curled upwards on one side of her cheek as he moved to allow her full reach of him, a look in his eyes, daring her to continue. Demanding it. Adelise held his stare, her own eyes full of lust and desire, a chill of excitement rolling down her spine. Her hand was still in the water though he moved his leg out of her reach, but that did nothing to deter her from finding it again. she dragged her fingers slowly from his knee in an upwards motion along his thigh, her nails scratching lightly against his skin. When her hand reached the edge of the coarse hair between his hips, she paused a moment, not quite ready to give him the satisfaction. “Is it? If a simple bath is all you truly desire then I would be more than happy to leave you be to enjoy it,” she taunted. Adelise had no intention of leaving, her actions contradicting her words as she let her fingers brush against his hardened length. 

She couldn’t help the smallest inhale as she felt the velvety smooth skin of his erection, not expecting him to be that hard already. Perhaps she had just as much of an affect on him as he did on her. A rush of heat pooled between her own legs, causing her shift slightly in hopes of some semblance of friction. Without warning, she gripped him fully, wrapping her hand around him and giving him few slow strokes, the water sloshing with her movements. Her eyes fell to where her hand disappeared, disappointed at the cloudiness of the water. She turn her hungry gaze back to him, giving another stroke and the slightest squeeze, letting her thumb brush over the tip of his cock. “I think you desire more than just a bath,” she breathed, her voice lower than before. 

She leaned forward once again, kissing softly along his stubble before letting her blunt teeth bite his jawline gently. “I know I do,” she wanted to kiss him again but she knew that second she did, she would most likely end up in the tub herself. Her movements were much more relaxed this time around. No sense of urgency or the adrenaline of coming back to life flowing through her veins. She wanted to take her time, to savor the moment. She pulled back from him to watch his reaction as her hand began to move up and down, finding her own rhythm but keeping it slow and steady, almost agonizingly so.

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

Her gratitude, though appreciated, was unnecessary in his opinion. In the moment, he did not consider himself to be brave nor stupid; it was not a carefully calculated decision to jump off of the cliff after her, there was no hesitation at all. The nature of a witcher was to protect the innocent from the monsters that plagued the continent, he was built for it– even if a majority of humankind had decided his services were no longer wanted or needed. In most instances, he could only reflect later on the decisions made in the heat of the moment, and decide then whether he was brave or stupid. In this case, though, the decision to save her life was not stupid– considering if he had not, there would have been no one to vouch for him against Thomas’s deception. 

Water sloshed gently as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His heavily-hooded eyes were still aimed straight ahead, in thought. Beyond his natural protective instinct, there was something else below the surface that made him jump without hesitation. It was the same reason, or lack thereof, that she had kissed him on the beach– an unexplained magnetism that was pulling them together, and growing stronger with each interaction. He was aware of the attraction, painfully, but accepting or admitting its presence would not be wise. Any relationship beyond business between a beastly Witcher and a royal Princess was forbidden. Eventually, they would be unable to ignore both conflicts– which is why he had decided to leave after the feast. It was easier than allowing fate to carry out whatever plans it seemed to have for their future, which he felt would end with his detached head rolling in the dirt for all of Kovir to witness. The kind thing to do would have been to warn her, to say goodbye, and to let her know his reasoning behind his abandonment of their quest; but he knew that if she gave even the slightest effort into convincing him to stay, that he would. So he kept his thoughts to himself, and responded to her genuine gratitude with two words: “You’re welcome.”

A soft smile graced her lips as he accepted her gratitude. She half expected him to deny it, saying it wasn’t needed. She had never known another Witcher, but she didn’t think all of them were as humble as Geralt. Though he wasn’t a man of many words, it was obvious that his mind was constantly going. She could practically see the thoughts flying though his head, and for some reason, she wanted to know them all. She felt compelled to ask him, to share his thoughts with her, but she bit her tongue, knowing it would be a far too intimate question. She knew better than to confuse whatever chemistry they had that kept pulling them together, for anything that could amount to something real. It would be foolish of her to get her hopes up. Once he found the other vampire that was killing the villagers, he would be gone just as quickly as he came. Something she really should be thankful for, seeing as if he found out about her little secret, she doubted she would keep her head. She ignored the slight feeling of melancholy that gripped her at the thought of him leaving so soon.

“Though I must admit, the risk of being beheaded for only three minutes of pleasure doesn’t seem entire worth it, if you ask me,” her tone changed as did the subject, wanting to move away from her small moment of vulnerability. She wanted to touch him again. To feel his muscles tense beneath her touch. To have his hands on her again. She craved it almost as much as his blood. She rose up on her knees, which in turn brought chest and face closer to his, the edge of the tub being the only barrier between them. Her smile turned into a wicked smirk as her hand crept below the surface of the water, finding its way between his torso and his leg he was currently resting his arm on. She let her fingers splay across his lower abdomen once more, before trailing along his upper thigh. Adelise leaned forward over the edge of the tub, a few stray curls falling forward, their ends dipping into the water. Her mouth was hot against his ear, “I think it only fair I give you something worthy of a beheading, don’t you agree?”

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

Her laugh, albeit brief, was vibrant– it was the first time he’d seen her in such a way, without reservation or worry. It was a lovely sight, and her comfort aided in dismantling his from his tight shoulders. He settled back down into his original position, releasing the tight grasp on the edge of the tub and letting his knuckles dance on the surface of the water. Lacking control over his own thoughts, he fondly replayed their earlier experience in water; the sound of her moans he would not soon forget. 

He didn’t respond to her light-hearted jest, aside from a breathy scoff that made his chest jump. She seemed to be careful with her word choice: dalliance. Was it because she wanted to avoid the use of vulgarity, or because she wanted to emphasize the fact that their interaction was brief– as in not to happen again. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had intruded on his bath and sent the maid away, just to deny him another chance at gratification. However, he was slow to realize that she had not been satisfied either– perhaps she wouldn’t be so cruel after all. 

“He told me nothing in detail, because I did not ask– I was still coming to terms with the fact that I was not being beheaded for those three minutes of pleasure,” he admitted, still amused at the entire situation. “Though I can speculate that he named me at fault for the attack on your life today, despite the fact that he was the only one who refused to fight for it– your life,” he clarified, shaking his head slightly before continuing his train of thought. “I’m sure his lies were easy to believe. My kind is not as trusted by society as we once were.”

Her fingers skimmed along the water, absentmindedly drawing patterns on the surface. Her eyes fell to his body once more as he relaxed, unable to keep from staring at his torso. The gruffness of his voice was soothing to her as he spoke, Adelise found herself leaning more against the tub than before. She felt a pang of sympathy for him, going his whole life hated or judged by the entirety of the world, all because of something he had no control over. 

“He claimed that you had somehow planned or provoked the attack. Either wanting me dead or trying to get me alone to use as a ransom,” she rolled her eyes at the nonsense of it all. “Truthfully, I don’t think he expected to run into other guards, nor did he think us still alive to contradict his lies.” She had yet to hear of Audric arresting him. As far as she knew, the traitor still slept soundly in his bed. It disgusted her. If he learned of Geralt’s release, she knew he would likely flee and they would never see him again. He would escape without being punished for his actions. Without the world knowing what a coward he was. “My brother knows the truth now. Well.. What he needs to know of the truth at least. I trust he will do right thing when it comes to that treasonous snake.”

Her eyes fell to her hand in the water, watching the ripples she made next to his thigh. “I never did get a chance to thank you properly... For saving my life. It was.. idiotic and suicidal to jump in the water after me but I am forever grateful to you, Geralt.” Adelise looked up at him now, wanting him to know that she truly meant what she was saying. 

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

Geralt was no stranger to insomnia; whether it was caused by his Witcher instinct which always kept him on his toes, by the pain of aching muscles or wounds from a battle, or most rarely: nightmares of his mother. It was why he drank often and in excess, forcing his supernatural body to be rendered unconscious in an effort to receive a fleeting moment of rest. Even then, the effects of his drunkenness never lasted long, another cost of being a mutant. For all of these reasons, it baffled him that he had nearly nodded off while waiting for the girl to return– jolting slightly as he felt tugging on his scalp. Even when he did bathe, he never really brushed his hair, aside from running his fingers through the worst of tangles– but he did not protest. 

His eyes slowly closed once more, the room silent aside from the occasional trickling of water from the sponge. Too relaxed to notice– or enjoying himself too much to care– he said nothing about the fact that she was washing him in the same spots as before; and he especially did not protest when her hand dipped below the water again. He felt a nail drag across his skin and it caused him to tense abruptly, his once relaxed, soft belly now tight from the contraction of his abdominal muscles. Her forwardness was shocking, though he knew that some women had the tendency of playing innocent while having ulterior motives– so, he decided to give into her provocative conduct, flexing his hips forwards just slightly as if to give her permission to continue lower. 

The atmosphere changed at her response, because the voice did not belong to the sweet redhead. Water sloshed against the circumference of the tub in reaction to Geralt’s sudden jolt upward, straightening his posture and craning his neck uncomfortably to meet the eyes of the Princess. He should have sensed her presence– smelled her at the very least but the aromatic soap must have provided a sort of scent camoflauge. Almost as soon as he met her gaze, he turned his head forward again, his discomfort clear. It wasn’t her presence alone that made him uncomfortable; it was that her presence was a reminder of his decision to leave Kovir once the mandatory feast was over. He had no intentions of warning her of his departure, which, for whatever reason, was causing him to carry a bit of guilt at the sight of her face now.

He cleared his throat, sliding his arms out to follow the upper edge of the tub, fingers curling around the edge tightly. “I’m starting to believe that you want your brother to kill me,” he remarked, amazed that she would be so brazen to risk being caught inside of the castle walls after their close call from miles away.

A soft and genuine laugh escape her lips at his words, momentarily pulling her hand back to a respectable distance. It wasn’t that she enjoyed watching his discomfort, granted, she found it slightly entertaining, there was just something about him that drew her in. Though she should fear him and the fact that he could and would kill her if he knew the truth, it didn’t stop her from toeing the fine line. 

She did not know why she had kissed him on the beach. She knew next to nothing about him, other than the stories. Which were just that... Stories. From what she could tell so far, the truth was very different than the legend. “I imagine you could manage an escape from my brother’s wrath,” she teased. She found it exhilarating in a way, the possibility of being caught. Truly, she had no idea what her brother’s actions would be. Now that he was king, he was forced to be held to a higher standard, his tolerance not so laxed anymore. Still, she was his sister. Surely he would not condemn his own sister to death?

“I needed to speak with you. I trust seeing as you aren’t in a torture chamber, my brother does not know about our... Dalliance and I would like to keep it that way, as I’m sure you would as well,” she spoke curtly, as if they were back in the room negotiating his price once more. She betrayed her tone however, when her gaze fell to his mouth, imagining all the things he could do with it. She swallowed, licking her own lips and meeting his eyes once more. 

“I don’t know what he told you when he released you, but that bastard Thomas seems to be quite the storyteller,“  she hissed, clenching her jaw in displeasure at the mere thought of him. 

[whitewolfwitcher]

Even in his most positive experiences with royalty, he had never received quite the magnitude of chivalry that Audric had rewarded him with. A feast in his honor, though unwanted, was a huge gesture of his satisfaction for the Witcher’s work. That gesture alone was generous enough, but his kindness extended even further with his arrangement of an assisted bath. This service was reserved only for members of the royal family– and obviously, Geralt had never been granted access to such a thing– except when Jaskier forced him to bathe with a bucket over the head before they met Queen Calanthe. 

The largest gift of gratitude, which Geralt assumed had been done cleverly by Audric, was discovered upon the sight of the maid who had been tasked to bathe him. She was a comely young woman, slender and busty; her long ginger hair hung in a braid that she pulled to one side, guiding his eyes straight to her cleavage which was very hard to ignore, what with how tightly her corset was tied. “Shall I help you undress?” her voice trembled, clearly nervous– not from the act of bathing someone, but from the act of bathing a mutant. Her thoughts were written on her face; she was afraid of him– found him enticingly dangerous.

He raised a single brow, hesitating– because the offer was tempting– but soon shook his head. “I think I can handle that,” he brushed past her and began unbuttoning his ruined shirt, wincing slightly as the fabric had become stuck to the wound on his back and required more effort to remove it. Scars littered his torso– front and back– and he could feel her staring at them, but he was pleased to know that she did not bother with asking about them. Little did he know that she had become enamored with the sight of his body, not the scars that plagued it. He had turned more towards the tub once the shirt was removed, now tugging at the ties at his waistband. A brief glance towards her and she was caught staring; she flushed bright red and cleared her throat, trying to distract from it.

“The doctor will see you after,” she informed him, her eyes turning towards the ground as he pulled one pants leg from his foot, followed by the other. He didn’t respond, aside from a simple nod, wasting no time in getting in the large tub, as he felt a bit awkward wearing only his wolf medallion in front of a stranger. The warm water sloshed around him as he settled into it, ripples taking their sweet time in dying out. His muscular, hairy chest rose towards the ceiling as he drew in a slow breath, followed by an exhale of relaxation. He propped his elbows up on either side of the tub and closed his eyes; his aching muscles found relief within the heat of the bath.

His eyes snapped open at the feeling of a soft sponge on his chest; he glanced briefly over his shoulder and met eyes with the redhead, who seemed to be permanently flushed. A heightened sense of hearing allowed him to pick up on her nervous gulp, just near his ear as she bent over to gently glide the sponge lower. With every inch that she let the sponge fall, she stooped further over him, until her hand was fully submerged to the wrist. He tensed slightly as she circled the sponge beneath the water, just below his naval, unintentionally pressing his upper back into her breasts. 

Thinking she overstepped, the maid pulled back slightly, sliding the sponge back to his upper abdomen. “Did I do something to displease you?” She sounded genuinely concerned. Geralt responded with a soft, breathy chuckle, glancing up at her again with hooded eyes. “Quite the opposite.”

She giggled softly and continued on, gliding the sponge in slow circles all across his ribs, his stomach, then up to his chest again. She became more liberal with her touch– using her bare fingers to sweep his hair behind his shoulder before dragging the sponge across his clavicle. A firm squeeze of the sponge sent water flowing down his chest, a sensation that brought goosebumps to his skin. Her other hand remained in his hair, trying to untangle it with her fingers but realizing she was making matters worse. 

“I didn’t bring a brush– didn’t know you’d have long hair… I’ll be right back,” she assured him, dropping the sponge into the water where it began bobbing slowly away from him. 

“Hm.” he responded with a nod, but kept eyes closed as they had been for a while now; for once, he was allowing himself to fully give in to the simple pleasure that a warm bath provided– Jaskier would be proud.

[heiressofthenight]

She stood at her window watching the fog roll in over the gardens below, arms crossed in front of her, still as a statue. Sometimes she had to remind herself to move. As a vampire, she found the typical human traits of fidgeting had faded with her death. After what seemed like hours, one of her handmaidens entered her chamber, informing her that the Witcher had been released from the dungeon and was being looked after. “Looked after?” She questioned, curious as to what her brother had done for him. “Yes, your highness. A bath has been drawn for him, and the physician will see him afterwards. I believe Isobel is tending to him.” Adelise kept her face neutral but relief washed over her. She ignored the slight tinge of jealously at the mention of Isobel bathing him. She had quite the reputation around the castle and she had no doubt this was also her brother’s doing.

She herself had been bathed and scrubbed clean of the blood, dirt, and grim. Her hair was washed and dried, her natural curls falling down her back. She often pulled the front of her hair back from her face, giving a sense of decorum until she was ready for bed but tonight she let her dark locks flow freely over her shoulders, simply tucking some strands behind her ears. It was a relief to be back into fresh clothes, the lace of her nightgown soft against her skin. Moving to her vanity, she dabbed a few drops of rose oil to her wrists, rubbing them together. “That will be all, Mary. Thank you,” she dismissed her handmaiden, ignoring the slight look of confusion from her. Normally, Mary would help her get ready for bed, but tonight wasn’t the case. She needed to speak with Geralt. To inform him of what her brother knew, and to make sure he hadn’t said anything he shouldn’t have. Given the fact that he was currently being pampered and not strung up to some type of torture device, reassured her of his silence and self perseverance. Still, she wanted to be sure their stories lined up.

Once Mary had left, Adelise quietly made her way to her bedroom door, slipping through the small opening and shutting it behind her. The hallway was dark, only a few candles still lit. She had no issue seeing in the dark, her vision enhanced as a literal creature of the night. It took no time at all to find her way to Geralt’s chambers, leaning against the stone wall next to the door and listening in as Isobel bathed him. She could hear the girl’s rapid pulse, scoffing and rolling her eyes at her giggles. Isobel may act innocent but she was far from it. She was a favorite among the men here, and knew exactly what she was she was doing. As soon as Isobel began to walk towards the door, Adelise stepped back into the shadows. The ginger didn’t even notice her as she walked by, too preoccupied with thoughts of the Witcher no doubt. Upon her return, Adelise stepped between the closed door and the handmaiden, startling the girl.

“Your highness,” she bowed, blushing with embarrassment for not seeing the princess sooner. Adelise saw the brush in her hand, and quickly took it from her. “Leave us,” she commanded, keeping her voice low but her tone harsh. “But- his majesty said-“ Isobel began to argue, but Adelise didn’t let her finish her thought. “And I said, leave us,” she met the girl’s gaze, Adelise’s blue eyes cold and calculating. Isobel knew she had no choice but to obey, and with a half-heart curtsy, she turned and left with a slight huff. Adelise ignore the small act of insubordination, a triumphant smirk falling onto her lips.

Opening the door, she entered Geralt’s room, the air humid with the steam from the bath. Her bare feet were quiet on the floor, as she walked towards him, his back to her in the tub. Her eyes roamed the parts of him she could see, her mouth going dry as she saw the wound on his shoulder, no longer actively bleeding, but still tempting all the same. It took her a moment to gather herself as she recalled the sweet taste of his blood. Standing over him, she realized his eyes were closed and he didn’t know it was her that re-entered the room. She fell to her knees behind him, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she gently pulled the tie from his hair that held it out of his face. Starting from the ends of his hair and slowly working her way up, she rang the comb through his white locks, admiring the way it slid through her fingers once it was completely brushed through.

With his eyes still closed, she moved to the side of the tub, finally able to look at him fully without his intimidating golden gaze. She took note of all the scars that littered his torso, admiring the way his muscles moved with each breath. His face was relaxed for once, his heavy brow not so brooding. He almost looked peaceful, something she doubted he had much of in his life. The water was cloudy with soap, leaving her slightly disappointed. Keeping up the ruse, she grabbed the sponge that was floating near his knee, and began dragging it up and down the arm closest to her, doing so until she saw no traces of dirt left on him. Isobel clearly hadn’t been actually interested in cleaning him, she as she had missed quite a few spots on his chest. Adelise moved on to his torso, cleaning him thoroughly before she began to let her mind and hand wander. She had been replaying their tryst on beach in her mind, hating how quickly it had begun and ended. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together as she sat back on her knees, remembering the feeling of him inside her.

Her hand dropped lower with the sponge, following the trail of hair that led down his naval. Gently, she let her nails scratch against the taut muscles of his lower abdomen. Her hand dipped below the water, the lace of her sleeve floating on the surface, brushing against him as she dragged the sponge from hip to hip, purposefully not touching anywhere else. Unable to keep up the act any longer, she spoke, “Enjoying your bath?”

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

Geralt tilted his chin down slightly at the king’s words, showing careful restraint in how he reacted to what Audric had to say. The story Thomas told? Confusion wreaked havoc on his stream of consciousness, but did not emote on his face. He slowly began to understand the situation at hand– that his arrest had nothing to do with his real crime– and thankfully, he had not done something stupid like apologizing profusely for defiling his little sister. 

A slow nod, followed by a quick swipe of the tongue across his chapped lips. “Forgiven and forgotten,” Geralt responded simply with a swift nod and a forced polite smile. He was a man of few words, yes, but he was also still a bit taken aback by the whole situation. The key clanked against the metal lock as it was forced inside, followed by the creaking of the barred door as it was pulled open. He didn’t hesitate when the door was open, stepping through it and coming face-to-face with the king at a respectful distance. 

A feast? It took every ounce of restraint within him to not audibly sigh– especially when he saw Jaskier light up with excitement behind the king. He twisted his neck uncomfortably as if the thought of a celebration in his name physically ailed him. The invitation could not be accepted or refused by the one it was extended to because the giddy bard beat him to it. “He would be most pleased to accept this very gratuitous offer, my lord,” Jaskier scurried around the king to appear at Geralt’s side, slinging a lanky arm around his shoulder. He released a low growl in response, shooting his comrade a warning glare that would frighten any normal person. Jaskier did not address this look, though he did take heed of his warning and quickly remove his arm from the witcher. “And I will gladly provide the entertainment–if your majesty has not yet tired of my lute after today. A celebration of a the infamous Geralt would not be complete without his storyteller, after all.“

“What of my horse?” Geralt cut in quickly, changing the subject as if Jaskier did not deserve the decency of a response. It was with purpose that he avoided answering the King’s question about staying to complete the contract which he was first hired for. “My sword and armor?”

He nodded his head graciously as the white wolf accepted his apology. Truly it didn’t matter if he forgave Audric or not, as long as he would still take care of their problem. He knew witchers were getting harder and harder to come by. A smiled graced Audric’s lips at the bard’s enthusiasm. It was no secret that Audric loved feasts and gathering. Always enjoying the women he brought back to his chambers. Audric addressed Jaskier first, not out of favoritism, but simply because he had spoken first. “Of course. I’m rather fond of your playing. You’ll have my full staff of musicians at your disposal.”

Audric failed to notice that the witcher did not give a yes or no to his question of staying. “I believe someone was sent to retrieve your horse. Adelise let them know where to find it. As for your sword and armor... they were grabbed when the guards found you both. I gave them instructions to return everything back to your room.” Audric paused, the silence a bit awkward between the three men. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the putrid dungeon so he saw an opportunity to leave and decided to take it. 

“I’ve sent for a hot bath to be drawn up for you in your room, as well as my personal physician to tend to your wounds. Should you need anything else, I’ve assigned a few of my staff to help with your needs and they should be able to get it for you,” he began to walk towards the exit, acknowledging the guards. “Now, I will see you both tomorrow night. Until then, gentlemen.” He gave them a small bow of his head before turning on his heels and walking out of sight.

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

The silence between the three men was deafening, but Geralt made no effort to break it; it didn’t seem wise to speak out of turn when Audric was likely about to lay down his sentence for Geralt’s crimes. He did, however, raise a single brow, curious as to why Jaskier was accompanying him; he would have assumed that the bard would have fled by now, or been thrown in the adjacent cell. The witcher narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher the expressions that both men wore on their faces. 

Finally, someone spoke up– but it was the one person who probably shouldn’t have– in Geralt’s opinion, at least. “I’ve come to say goodbye,” Jaskier spoke, dropping his head in defeat, as if he were hiding his face to shed a tear. Geralt swallowed and tensed, shooting a quick glance to the King before his attention returned to the bard. The scheming human lifted his head slowly, peering up from beneath his eyelashes. No tears had been shed– in fact, the opposite; his mouth was stretched wide into a shit-eating grin. Fitting, considering the pungent aroma of shit in the air. He quickly dropped his head again, to avoid the king seeing the look he’d just shared with the witcher. 

He knew that look. Jaskier was up to something, and Geralt didn’t like it, even if his lighthearted attitude was a tell that his life was not in any real danger. Shifting slightly, a clear sign of his discomfort, he directed his sights on Audric with a heavily furrowed brow. Still, he didn’t utter a word– wanting to avoid incriminating himself in any way.

Audric couldn’t help the small smirked that graced his lips at the bard’s dramatics. Had he been younger, he would’ve most likely played along, enjoying the jest of pranking the man behind the bars. Times had changed though, and he was the king, no longer a boy prince who could get away with the mischief he used to cause. Instead he ended the ruse quickly, “Yes, well... Perhaps not quite yet.”

He stepped closer to the witcher so that he could look him in the eyes. He was taller than Audric, his muscle mass obviously dwarfing the royal. Still, Audric held an air of stoic authority about him, even without the title of king. “It is my understanding that the story Thomas told, was in fact very far from the truth. My sister has informed me of your bravery and heroics. She spoke rather highly of you and all that you did to keep her safe. Therefore, I hope you can forgive me for my quick actions,” he stepped back, gesturing for the guard to open the cell door. Once he did, the king continued on. 

“I would like to host a feast in your honor tomorrow night. As a way to show you my appreciation for bringing my sister back safe and sound,” though it was posed as if it were optional, his tone said otherwise. “I know these... Sirens weren’t what you were hired for, and if you choose to leave after tomorrow night given everything that has happened, I would understand.” Audric would be surprised if the witcher chose to stay in a kingdom that had imprisoned him. Audric wouldn’t force him to either. However, though he had slain some beasts, it was not the one that truly plagued their people. “Though if you do chose to stay and help us with our original problem, I would be forever in your debt.”

[whitewolfwitcher]

He should have been relieved to have the opportunity to rest, especially after fighting off sirens, being thrashed by the ocean, and getting dragged for miles through the woods by the wrists. However, his only option was to sit on the stone ground that permanently reeked of piss and shit. The castle was beyond luxurious and spotless, but it was likely with purpose that no one bothered to clean the cells where the kingdom’s enemies were held. Though the white haired witcher already smelled from his lack of bathing, he drew the line at lounging in human waste. Instead, he leaned against one of the damp stone walls of the tiny cell, crossing his arms over his chest. He could feel the cold rock through the gaping hole torn through the back of his shirt– as well as the wound that would likely become infected if not treated soon.

He considered fighting back– truthfully, in many instances, he could have overpowered the guards in multitude if he really wanted to. However, he knew that they were simply following orders, and from what he assumed he was being arrested for, the punishment fit the crime. Once full acceptance set in, his mind wandered on many different topics; he wondered if they had retrieved Roach from the woods and allowed him a place in their stables; he hoped that Jaskier would not be punished for simply being attached to his name; he replayed the memory of Adelise on the beach multiple times in his head; he weighed the likelihood of a death sentence– My brother would have both our heads for this, he recalled her saying. A mere jest then, but now? A very sobering possibility. His throat ached when he swallowed, reminding him of the dehydration that he felt; he didn’t bother to ask for water, knowing his request would not be granted.

A stream of light stretched onto the ground outside of his cell, followed by the familiar screeching of the large, metal door he’d been dragged through, tore his attention away from his thoughts. Footsteps– two pairs, approaching at a brisk walk. Geralt didn’t stand from his position against the wall, but he did rotate his head to meet the eyes of whoever would soon pass by his cell.

[heiressofthenight]

It had been a relatively enjoyable day for Audric given the fact that he rarely was able to enjoy himself anymore. Everything was an urgent matter for his attention. Everyone needed something right away. Though he was groomed to become king his entire life, the reality of it was so much less desirable now. Perhaps if he had more time to study under his father, learn the ways of the world, it would’ve been easier. That opportunity had flown out the window the second that monster had ensnared his sister into his trap. Audric would kill Nikolai three times over if he could, he death was quick and not nearly painful enough for what he had done to his entire family. 

There was nothing he could do about it anymore except deal with the hand they had all been dealt. He knew it was foolish to argue with his sister this morning about her insistence to go after Ramsey so he let her do as she pleased. He knew she would go with or without his permission regardless. He wasn’t stupid. he knew she held an affection for the man, he just didn’t care to know how deep it went. He wasn’t exactly a saint himself, but being a woman they were not granted as much liberties as men. As long as his sister was discreet, he couldn’t be bothered to care. Adelise respected him as king no doubt, and she knew when to back down and follow his orders. However she also knew when to push him just enough to get her way. Audric had a soft spot for his baby sister and he would do anything he could to make her happy. Now though, he also had to balance her happiness with the wellbeing of their kingdom. Something that was becoming exceedingly difficult. 

A sigh left his chest as he was pulled from his thoughts. He had spent the day being entertained by the bard, Jaskier. Truthfully, he understood how this man could grate the nerves of most, but to Audric, he was a breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t filter themselves just because he was king. Someone who treated him like an actual person instead of a figure head. He had shared stories of his time with Geralt and their many adventures. Some, if not most, overly exaggerated surely by the bard but he enjoyed the story telling none the less. 

Once news of the attack on his sister and her travel party reached him thanks to Thomas, the bard made himself scarce. Thomas’ words filled him with rage against the witcher, causing Audric to demand his immediate capture if he was still alive. How dare that freak think he could pull one over on him? How dare he try anything against his beloved sister? When Adelise had returned very much still alive and well and fuming, he realized he may have acted too quickly. But what else could he do but believe the words of his men when that was all he had to go on? 

His bootsteps echoed on the stone floor, the stench of the dungeon burning his nose but he didn’t show it. The bard had asked to join him as he made his way down to speak to and inevitably free the witcher, to which Audric had no qualms with. Truthfully, he found humor in the way the bard mercilessly teased his companion. He stopped in front of the witcher’s cell, his face unreadable as Jaskier leaned against the bars next to him. He was silent, waiting to see what the witcher would do or say. Though he of course believe Adelise, he wondered if the man in front of him would reveal anything else his sister may have left out. 

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

Icy ocean water washed up around them as the tide shifted, chilling their heated bodies, as if nature itself were cheering them on. The cold sensation drew his focus for a brief moment to his heightened senses; the smell of the sea, the leftover taste of salt from her skin, the sound of sea foam sloshing around them– and further above, the sound of a raised voice– Thomas. Yelling to what Geralt guessed was another company of guards on the cliff above them.

He should have stopped then– the risk now was great, and though he jokingly agreed to accept the consequences; it was not on his to-do list to be beheaded for this. But there was one thing that his mutant blood had not changed and that was the needs of every man. So he didn’t stop– he pressed on, bucking faster, desperate to finish inside of her. Heavy breaths turned to grunts, his body reaching peak exhaustion as he fought against the aching of his muscles. He let his head fall forward, temple resting against the side of her skull as he climbed closer to the summit. His eyes were clenched so tightly that he saw stars, and he could hear Thomas’s voice coming closer– as close as Geralt was to climaxing.

A few seconds more and he would have filled her, but unsurprisingly, life provided him with another misfortune as she shoved him away, demanding that he stop. Of course, he did not object, though his displeasure was obvious as he cursed under his breath, a growl riding on the exhale. He quickly tucked himself back in place, fumbling with the ties of his pants. His eyes remained anywhere but her, overwhelmed by an emotion somewhere between frustration and humiliation. 

“The Princess Lives!” The voice of an ecstatic, unnamed guard echoes down from above, just as Geralt had climbed to his feet, clearing him of any evidence that he had just deflowered the princess. “Down to the beach, now!” There was an urgency in his voice that the witcher assumed was excitement to retrieve her highness– unaware that the company that was on their way down the cliffside trail was going to be taking him prisoner.

It doesn’t take very long for their horses to reach the sand, muffling the sound of their hooves pounding against the ground. Geralt had just emptied water from his boots and was tugging them back on when the guards reached them, a few jumping from their horses and immediately drawing their weapons– aimed directly at Geralt. His expression shifted from unreadable to utterly confused.

“What the fuck is this?” He fumed, searching the faces of the many guards who had blades pointed at his throat. None of them gave an answer– until he met Thomas’s gaze. Geralt’s expression darkened, jaw clenching as he fought the urge to lunge forward and bludgeon Thomas’s face in with his bare hands; but he was outnumbered, and his sword remained at the top of the cliff with the rest of his armor. If anyone should have been arrested, it should have been Thomas, who had run like a coward when Adelise needed him. Soon, the anger, though still present beneath the surface, was replaced with something else– a disdainful acceptance of the charge being forced upon him, which he assumed was for the defilement of the princess. His earlier assumption that he had not been caught on top of her was apparently wrong, so he held his hands out in surrender.

“Restrain him– now!” Thomas ordered, though one of the guards had already moved to do so. Geralt didn’t move, allowing his hands to be tied many times over with ropes at the wrist. His eyes remained locked on Thomas– who, like the coward he was, could not maintain his vicious gaze. The guard took the other end of the rope and began fixing it to the saddle of his horse. Geralt terminated the death glare prematurely, just to turn his head and meet eyes with Adelise one last time before he was forced to start walking with the horse that dragged him forward. 

Adelise was breathing heavily, her entire body trembled with being on the cusp of climaxing and the bloodlust now coursing through her entire body. It took her far longer than it should to hear the shouts of the men above. As he readjusted himself, she also took a moment to smooth out her underdress the best she could, even though she was still sopping wet. Standing, she crossed her arms around herself, as if shielding herself from his gaze. One quick look told her he wasn’t looking at her, in fact, doing everything he could to avoid it. 

As the guards came down the cliffside, she spotted an all too familiar face, her anger taking over her embarrassment. One of the guards quickly draped his own cloak over her, providing her cover to preserve her modesty. Her brows furrowed in confusion as they drew their weapons on Geralt. She echoed his sentiments, “What is the meaning of this? You have no rights to arrest him! He saved my life!” Her cries of outrage went unanswered. For a brief moment, she wondered if they had seen them together, but until it was confirmed, she didn’t want to draw attention to something they might not even know. 

Adelise watched with rage and shock as they bound his wrists, tying him to a horse. He finally looked at her, meeting her gaze. She held it, hoping to convey reassurance that she would fix this. She stormed up to Thomas, slapping him hard in the face, the sound echoing loudly. “You fucking coward,” she spat. The guards around her murmuring to themselves as she swore aloud. Thomas spit out the small amount of blood that dribbled from his lip. “Men! Let’s get a move on, the king is expecting us,” he spoke, taking her by the elbow, much tighter than it would appear as he dragged her over to his horse. He forcefully helped her up, before mounting the horse behind her, falling in line behind the two guards that rode behind Geralt. She did note that they had grabbed his armor and his sword that he must’ve left atop the cliff before jumping in after her.

 "What did you do?” she hissed, once they began moving. Thomas gripped the reins tightly, his arms entrapping her  as she pulled the cloak tighter around herself. Being force to touch him disgusted her, she would rather walk the whole way back instead of this but she appeared to have no choice in the matter. “Now, now... Let’s not cause a scene. I would hate for something to happen to your new lover,” he whispered in her ear. Adelise tensed, turning to look in his eyes. She was certain that no one had actually seen them.. Had she been wrong? 

“What? It’s not like it’s hard to assume. You’ve got that freshly fucked look about you. Not to mentioned you’ll spread your legs for just about anyone who can wield a sword. And your reaction just confirmed my assumption,” he chuckled darkly, his breath hot on her face. “How dare you speak to me as such. I am the Princess of Kovir and you will show me the respect I deserve,” she spat, elbowing him harshly in the ribs, satisfied when he let out a grunt of pain. 

“Relax, princess. Your secret is safe with me.... Just so long as mine is safe with you. I would hate for your brother to find out what a whore you are, beheading the witcher and you along with him.” Thomas held a mocking tone to his voice. The amount of rage and anger boiling through her veins couldn’t be put into words. She wanted nothing more than to tear him limb from limb. Watch him beg for his pathetic life. “Now... As long as you keep quiet about my slight error of judgement that led to me fleeing, I’ll keep quiet about your activities. Everything has already been put into motion with the king.”

“What do you mean? What have you told him?” she asked, wanting to know how to counteract whatever he had done. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it. All you need to know is that the mutant will take the fall for this disaster of a mission and we will both be in the clear.” Her teeth audibly clenched together at his words. She turned once more, a deadly look in her eyes as she met his cowardly gaze.

“You will pay for this. I promise you that,” she swore. “We shall see,” he countered, but Adelise could see the hint of fear within his eyes. He had no idea how sorry he would soon be. 

[heiressofthenight]

“He told you what?” she hissed, crossing her arms angerly in front of her. Adelise was seething as her brother recounted the story Thomas had relayed of their attack. It was all lies. He had painted a lovely scenario where he was the hero. Following orders. Trying to go for help. Adelise scoffed. The guards that had found them immediately arrested Geralt, shackling him on orders from the king. It wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened with Thomas leading the so called ‘rescue’ party. She had tried to protest but the men wouldn’t listen to her. Chalking it up to the hysterics of a distraught woman. She had yet to even properly bathe, still in her destroyed shift, though thankfully now having a robe to properly cover herself. She was covered in dirt and sand, her hair knotted from the salt water and.. other things. Her thighs still ached from her primal yet brief escapade with Geralt. She pushed those thoughts away, wanting to focus all her energy into making sure Thomas was punished for his actions. 

“I suppose he forgot to mention that Lucas was already dead by the time Thomas fled like the filthy cur he is? I didn’t realize men could give orders from beyond the grave,” she hissed. “He didn’t run for help. Lucas didn’t give him any orders. He was running for his life. Instead of staying and fighting like a man of honor which was what Lucas and Victor did. The only reason he came back at all was because he ran into others on patrol... Otherwise, I guarantee he would’ve fled the city. He probably assumed us to be dead, thinking no one would be able to contradict his lies.”

Her blood was boiling with rage at the lies spread from that rodent’s mouth. Painting Geralt as the monster. Saying he provoke the sirens. Implying he was somehow on their side. She watched Audric’s forehead crease as he was deep in thought. “The witcher didn’t intentionally put you in harm’s way? Thomas said it was a trap... A way to either get you alone- possible for a ransom.. Or to simply just have you killed. Thomas claimed he went for help in the hopes that they could save you from the witcher.” 

A dark chuckle escape her throat. “In what world does that make any possible sense, Audric? Why would want me dead? What purpose would it serve him? He has no idea what I am, nor will he find out. He saved my life, at the very near cost of his own. If it wasn’t for Geralt, I’d be floating along the bottom of the seabed, drowning for eternity. We owe him much more than measly 500 bizants promised.” Her tone was harsh and cut throat. There was a reason she always got what she wanted, and this time it would be no different. “I suggest you release him immediately, apologize profusely, and thank him for his heroics. I don’t know of any man who could have done what he did.”

Audric let out a heavy sigh, one that sang of the burden of being king. “Relax, Adelise. I’ll get everything sorted out,” he promised, looking up at his sister. He could see that under all the fiery rage, the temper she got from their father no doubt, there was genuine concern in her eyes for this witcher. He also didn’t miss her using his actual name. “I am curious though... Why do you care so much? You haven’t cared much about anything since-” he stopped, realizing his error as her face fell. Ever since his sister had turned, she was never quite the same. Quiet, withdrawn, going through the motions but never really fully living like she used to. She used to be life of the party. Lighting up a room whenever she entered, her aura magnetic to those around her. The kingdom loved her. Now, she was just a shell of that girl. It pained his heart to see her as such. 

“You weren’t out there, Audric. You didn’t see what those things did to our men. It was... The carnage was unimaginable,” her voice pulled him from his thoughts, and through the haunted look in her eyes, he could tell she was reliving it all over again. He stood from his chair, walking over to where she was standing. Pulling her small frame into him, he wrapped her into a comforting embrace, kissing her temple. He was relived when he felt her reciprocate, her arms wrapping around his waist as she let out a shuddered breath. “You’re safe now. Everything will be alright,” he pulled back, cupping her face and wiping the stray tears with his the pad of his thumb. She nodded quietly before pulling back, her moment of vulnerability gone. 

“I want Thomas torn apart and strung up for all to see. I want everyone to know him for the traitor and cowardly bastard that he is,” she practically snarled. He would be lying if he said her rage wasn’t frightening at times. Even more so now that she was a vampire. Audric could only imagine the rule his sister could have had, if she’d been born a man. She could be a kind and fair ruler at times, but god forbid if someone crossed her, they rarely made it out unscathed. There were many a men and women who found themselves no longer at court and shunned because of his sister. He couldn’t say they didn’t deserve though. Audric however, had trepidations when it came to matters such as punishment and torture. He knew it could make him out to be a weak leader, which was something that couldn’t happen. Not when his rule and kingdom were in such a fragile state. He knew Adelise was right. Thomas had committed multiple counts of treason, and he would have to pay dearly for it. However, he needed more time to think about what exactly his punishment would be.

“I will handle it,” he told her, his tone making it clear that she shouldn’t question him on it again. “In the mean time, I suggest you get yourself cleaned up and rested. Tomorrow we shall throw a feast in the witcher’s honor. For bringing back the princess of Kovir safe and sound... And to honor the ones we lost, and their bravery.” He could tell by the look on her face that the last thing she wanted was to attend a feast, but he knew she would go to keep up appearances. 

“Thank you, dear brother,” Adelise gave him a mocking curtsy, before turning and leaving him alone to process everything that she had told him. Not to mention the fact that they still had a vampire problem on their hands. Dragging a hand through his hair, he let out a frustrated groan. It was no wonder why kings died so young. 

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

He growled sharply in response to his head being forced upwards by the hair at the back of his skull– not displeased by the action itself, but he certainly preferred to have the roles reversed. With her being royalty, he thought it best to avoid anything that might leave marks on her– but she was making that very difficult for him to do when her primal behavior only made him want to do the same. He gnashed together his two rows of white teeth, jaw clenching, his view forced upwards to the cliff; then blackness as his eyes rolled back in response to her hot, wet mouth against his throat. 

Her statement, though meant to be a tease, held truth. Sleeping with a princess was a first for him, as any human with nobility often looked down on him until he was needed to complete a contract; but even then, his services began and ended only with his sword, not with his cock. The risk of being caught should have made him fearful, but it only added to the thrill.  “I’ve lived long enough” he countered, craning his head back down to be parallel with hers, not an easy task against the vice grip she had on his hair. 

When she snaked her leg around his hip, he took the liberty of allowing his hips to fall fully into her, making her well acquainted with his arousal– practically rigid enough to tear through his and her layer of clothing. A roll and grind of his pelvis drove the message home that the need to be granted admission was urgent. Her skin was grainy to the touch– either from sand or the salt of the ocean– as his fingertips wandered beneath the neckline of her sheer tunic to explore what his eyes had already seen. Urgently he palmed at her breast, her flesh rising into the empty spaces between his fingers as he tightened his grip. 

With his own head, he callously nudged her face away from him to allow space for his face to be buried into the crevice above her clavicle. She smelled and tasted of salt– whether that be from the ocean, from natural perspiration– or both. He dragged his tongue flat along her carotid artery, all the way to the corner of her jaw where he exhaled a warm breath and swirled his tongue against her. If the situation were different– if they both weren’t so desperate to have each other right then and there– he would have made time to taste every inch of her body; to see that she was satisfied before he even thought about his own gratification. But the need was too great, and the way she had her legs spread wide and wrapped around him was more than enough for him to see it as an invitation. 

While still kissing her throat, he moved from her breast to her face, prying two digits into her mouth to coat them with saliva. Simultaneously, his other hand unfastened his leather trousers, the skin-clad fabric being rather uncooperative as he adjusted himself to be free from it entirely.  Before he removed his hand from below, he tugged at her underdress until it was above her hips, removing the last barrier between them. An impatient growl vibrated from his mouth against her neck as he switched hands, rubbing her saliva around his head. 

He pulled his face away, only to watch her expression as he pushed into her, slowly at first to allow time for her body to accommodate the intrusion– but this was not long at all, as her arousal was evident. He clutched a fist of her curls near the top of her scalp, holding her in place as he rapidly began driving his hips into hers at a speed that he knew he would not be able to withstand for long. 

Adelise couldn’t help the smile that curled at her lips with his words, his deep voice vibrating from his chest against hers. He smelled of sweat and grim, the scent mixed with the salt water and something that was uniquely him. It wasn’t unpleasant, but she would love to get him into a bath. To wash away the dirt of the world and see every inch of him for all that he was. 

She let out a soft gasp which turned into a moan as he palmed her breast, the hand on his hair loosening and eventually falling to cover his large hand with her small one, not wanting him to stop. The feeling of his arousal pressed against the apex of her thighs had her legs trembling around him as she met his thrusts with equal vigor. She was just as desperate as he was. 

Her head fell back as his insistence, her hands moving to his back, slowing dragging upwards against the wet fabric. She suddenly felt something warm and sticky on her hand, a chill running through her entire body when she realized what it was. Blood. His blood. He shielded her from the siren’s attack with his own body and he clearly took the brunt of it. The wind shifted, and suddenly the smell and feel of his blood was all she could think about. She wanted to bathe in it. 

She didn’t care for his kisses along her neck. She barely noticed as he swiped his fingers through her watering mouth. She’d rather sink her fangs deep into his throat. Her breathing became heavier as she lost her composer, her other hand tangling in his hair once more to hold his face to her neck as her eyes turned dark red with hunger. Adelise lifted her bloodied hand into view, the brightness of the red that coated her fingers singing to her. She clenched her eyes tightly, forcing herself to look away, to focus on him again and what he was doing. 

She felt herself relax, the hunger subsiding as he lifted her skirt. She only opened her eyes once she knew they were normal, catching his golden gaze once more and holding it as he pushed into her. A whimper escape her throat as he filled her, her body trying to adjust to his size. She hissed as he grabbed her hair and she wrapped herself around him as he picked up his pace, her head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, a soft cry of pleasure escaping her with every thrust. She was already close, aching for release and she had a feeling he wouldn’t be far behind. 

A small drop of blood seep from his back, rolling down his shoulder and towards his collar bone. It was so close to disappearing beneath his collar but before she couldn’t even think to stop herself, her mouth was on it, sucking and licking a path up to his shoulder. His blood was the most luscious thing she had ever tasted in her life. Like nectar from the gods, a heavy moan broke from her lips, her fangs threatening to drop and sink into thick muscle beneath her mouth. 

Without warning, she pulled back, her hands pushing against him, almost violently. “Stop... Stop!” she commanded, her voice ragged as she tried to catch her breath, pulling away from him enough for his throbbing cock to slip out from her warmth. She realized that didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t want to give in to the monster that simmered just below the surface. 

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

He was beginning to worry that his efforts were wasted– that he was simply inflating a corpse like a balloon– but by some miracle, he felt her breath push back against his. He immediately jerked his head back, placing a hand on her back to support her as she twisted and coughed up the ocean water from her lungs. Finally able to catch his breath now, relief washed over him as the color slowly returned to her facial features. 

He moved with her as she rolled onto her back again, removing his hand from between her shoulder blades and placing it in the sand near her upper arm. His eyes searched hers, as if to make sure that she was really alive, which truly should have been impossible. Panting, their chests expanded and contracted synchronously; neither one of them had fully restored their oxygen levels.

Noticing her hand moving towards his face, Geralt retreated slightly, thinking that she was moving to push him off of her– as the position they remained in was inappropriate for that of a princess and a mutant. He was shocked to feel her gentle caress, her small, soft hand gliding across his jaw and wrapping around the back of his neck. His eyes lowered as if to watch her movements, but the only movement he observed were her breasts rising and falling with each breath, the transparent, white cloth sticking to her flesh. 

There was a moment of hesitation on his part– the briefest moments of thinking clearly; thinking of how Audric could have him killed for reciprocating her kiss. The clarity faded away from him almost instantly, and he crushed it between them, letting his full weight fall down on top of her much smaller frame. His own tongue fought back against hers, his teeth scraped against hers from the sheer force that he placed behind his reciprocated kiss. There was no catching their breath now–not that he wanted to. 

He could describe every inch of her breasts from memory from how tightly they were pressed against his sternum; but he would soon return the favor. Growling between kisses, he let his right leg sink between hers, forcing them apart aggressively. He could feel the details of her most intimate parts against his lower quadricep, enticing him; taunting him. He growled in response, directly into her mouth, and dug his knee down deeper into the sand, creating more friction between her legs. 

She was lost in the taste of him as they kissed, relishing in the feeling of his tongue as it glided against hers. She inhaled deeply through her nose as his let himself lay against her fully, her nipples hardening against his chest, the thin material of their clothes doing nothing to hide the impressive body beneath his shirt. Her hand came away from the sand, wrapping around his large bicep, nails dragging downwards to grip his sleeve and use it as leverage to pull him even closer, if that were possible. 

A heavy moan escape her lips as his leg fell between hers, her legs parting willingly to his thigh. She couldn’t stop herself from writhing against him, knowing he could feel every part of her. The hand that was tangled in his white hair yanked his head back, exposing his throat to the assault of her hot tongue, licking and sucking her way down and up before softly biting his jawline. 

A coy smile graced her lips as she pulled back momentarily to look at him, letting her hips buck against him once more seeking the delicious friction that did nothing to quell the pooling of heat low in her belly. “My brother would have both our heads for this,” she teased, her words breathy. She brought a leg up to hook over his hip and give herself better leverage, the wet leather of her tall black boots letting out a sound of protest against his pants.

Adelise let her lips find his once more, fighting just as hard against his mouth, unable to get enough from him. Her senses were heightened as a vampire, making every touch, every kiss that much more. It was addicting, she realized, having not been with anyone since she turned. He was addicting. She would gladly spend eternity wrapped in this pleasure, never again lifting a finger to do anything else. /p>

[heiressofthenight]

whitewolfwitcher​:

It took more effort to remove his sword from this creature– as it was imbedded fully between the ribs of the dead siren. He gave one unsuccessful tug before placing his foot on the creature to keep it still while he gave a second attempt, the blade finally coming free and pulling a stringy chunk of innards with it. His lip curled in disgust, shaking the sword one vigorous time to rid it of the putrid flesh. But he should have known better than to have wasted so much time removing his sword; even if it were a few brief moments, every second counted. He whirled around to where Adelise had once stood, realizing that she had been snatched up from her place on the ground and was now hovering beyond the cliff’s edge.

He ran forward, unsure of what he could even do– but he had to do something. Audric would have his head on a pike if he returned to the castle without his sister; but beyond that, Geralt didn’t want her to die– regardless of what the consequences for himself would be. He sprinted towards the hovering mass of their entangled bodies, boots pounding the ground below him almost as hard and fast as the mutant heart pounding within his chest. 

Helplessly he watched as Adelise plunged a dagger deep into the chest of the flying beast, forcing her own release into empty air. He knew at this point, that there was no getting her back onto the cliff– he would have to follow her off the edge, and think quickly before he did so. With each stride, he rid himself of first his sword, stabbing it into the dirt, followed by piece after piece of leather armor that he discarded each time it was freed from his body. The leather would only weigh him down, and even though there could be more monsters down in the sea below, there was no way to effectively wield a sword underwater. He was down to his black leather trousers, a black, low-buttoned, half-sleeve undershirt, and his wolf medallion that slapped against his chest with each pace.

There was no hesitation on his part when he reached the cliff’s edge– launching as far as he could away from the ground to avoid hitting any rocks close to the cliff wall at the bottom. He dove head first, arms above his head, eyes searching for any signs of her. She had already hit the water– but luckily, he jumped just in time to see the rippling foam where her body must have broke the ocean surface. He tucked his head down upon impact, squinting his eyes and hoping that he wasn’t going to immediately collide head-first with one of the jagged rocks below the surface. 

Yellow eyes opened beneath the water– he was fortunate enough to avoid a large rock that was a mere foot or so away from him. He fought the desire to close them, the sting of the ocean water not even slightly subsiding the longer he remained underwater. Frantically, he twisted in the water, trying to locate her, but the current and breaking of waves on the surface above made it difficult to see anything more than a few feet in front of him. He quickly became disoriented, and decided to swim to the surface to reevaluate where he was in comparison to where he’d seen her impact zone. His lungs were begging for air once he broke the surface– which reminded him that if she were underwater for much longer, there would be no chance of him finding her alive. After a quick evaluation of his position, he took one more deep breath and dove down again, fighting the current with every ounce of strength within him as he searched. The deeper he swam, the more clarity he received– the darkness of depth was not a barrier for him, as his eyes were trained for night vision anyways. Finally, he located her, and despite his lungs feeling like they were about to burst, fought the urge to return to surface. He couldn’t see her face– her long, dark curls swirling in front of her as she continued to slowly sink– but he didn’t need to see her dormant expression to know that she was unconscious; her motionless limbs were enough of a sign. 

Relief rushed in once his hands reached her waist, but the battle was not over yet. He soon realized why she was unable to swim to the surface, as his own feet began getting stuck in her skirts, keeping him from being able to drive them to land. Veins popping out on his neck and forehead, he grunted, fighting both her clothes and the urge to inhale a breath full of sea water. Running out of options, he made one final attempt– reaching for the neckline of her bodice and tucking his fingers between her cleavage and the fabric. With one hard tug, he tore the cloth in half, the sound of it muffled by the water in his ears. It sunk into the darkness below them as he moved to her skirts now, grabbing fistfuls of fabric and tearing it open at the seams. Once there was enough space, he was able to yank her through the skirts, kicking at them with his feet until she was free of those as well, leaving her only in her shoes and white underdress– which he would have noticed was now completely see-through were he not fighting for both of their lives at the moment. 

He held her tight against him, the pads of his fingers digging into her mid-back as he used his other hand to swim. His muscular legs kicked with the only strength he had left, though he was mostly just running on adrenaline now. Finally, as if the moment would never come, he breached the ocean’s surface and gasped so hard for air that it pained his throat and chest. However, slowing to catch his breath was not an option at the moment, so he pressed on, exhaustion evident with each stroke of his arms and kick of his legs. 

Just as they were about to give out, his foot struck sand, and he was able to began climbing up shore, dragging her with him. He stumbled here and there, his feet sinking into the sand, but never once fell. Only when he reached semi-dry sand did he fall forward, landing at her side. The heaving of his chest kept him from being able to speak, so he just continued to act, swiping strands of wet hair from her face. Her lips were a blueish-purple, the skin around her mouth was ghostly white, and upon checking for a pulse– there was none. 

Despite the exhaustion that he felt, another round of adrenaline kicked in, his will to see her live through this stronger than anything else at the moment. Palms flat on her chest now, between her breasts, he began rhythmic compressions, using his own body weight to aid him as he grunted with each push. 

“Wake up, Adelise–” he hissed breathlessly between clenched teeth, the first time he had referred to her as anything other than ‘princess’ or ‘your highness’. His hands relocated from her chest to her face to pry her jaw open; simultaneously clamping her nose shut before falling forward and latching his open mouth to hers, emptying the contents of his lungs into her.

It was an empty blackness. Nothing. She simply ceased to exist. It was almost comforting in a way, the silence, the endless expanse of oblivion. Her peace did not last long though, her senses surging to the surface, muffled and distorted, her mind restarting and trying to get her body to function. Her limbs were heavy and it felt as though she were still underwater, useless and unable to move.

The brightness of the living world nearly seared her eyes as she gained consciousness. Eyes open but not quite yet able to focus, she was acutely aware of a warmth pressed against her mouth, before she pulled away from it, rolling to her side and coughing the sea from her lungs. She shouldn’t be alive. Had she still been human, she would be well and truly dead. There was no way a mere mortal would be able to come back from a drowning like hers. No, the only reason she was still alive, was purely because of vampiric disease coursing through her bloodstream. 

After another coughing fit, she rolled back onto her back, inhaling deeply, relishing the air within her lungs. It took her a moment to remember where she was, what had happened, who she was with. Geralt. Blue eyes met gold as she finally focused on her rescuer. Her chest, still heaving, the white shift soaked with saltwater and very much see through, leaving nothing to the imagination. 

Adelise couldn’t bring herself to care. She was on a high, a rush of pure adrenaline surging through her. She didn’t know if it was from the fight, her drowning, her resurrection, or perhaps a combination of everything. All she knew was that everything was more intense. The colors were brighter, the sounds were louder, everything was sharper. Her fingers curled themselves into the sand, relishing in the rough texture. She stared up at Geralt, her eyes searching every feature and scar of his face in great detail, committing it to memory. 

Before she could stop herself, her hand hand found its way to his cheek, dragging along his jaw, tangled in his wet hair at the nape of his neck. Pulling him down to her, she met his mouth in a hot kiss, forcing her tongue into his mouth, not even giving him the chance to reject her.