swishy
pairing: Lambert/Milena notes: featuring GNC Lambert, my beloved, and Milena who is from @inexplicifics AWAU <3 summary:
A particularly cold day in the keep means Milena is wearing heavier and softer skirts than usual. Lambert notices but not in a way Milena expects.
Milena hadn’t planned on wearing one of her heavier wool skirts that morning but perhaps she should have listened when Yennefer warned the keep about an incoming blizzard. There would be no training outside for the Witchers, nor extra chores for the trainees. Until the storm ended, no one was to leave Kaer Morhen unless there was an emergency.
Thankfully, that meant Milena was blessed with Lambert’s presence during a portion of the morning where he otherwise would’ve have been occupied with sparring or council duties.
Soft kisses woke her and continued to send her sighing through most of the morning as they both went through tasks normally reserved for afternoon downtime.
After finishing sharpening his own swords, Lambert moved on to take care of Milena’s daggers. His steady rhythm of the blades over the whetstone were a lovely distraction from the snow howling outside. And if Milena leaned over every now and then for a kiss, throwing off his groove ever so slightly, well, Lambert didn’t seem to mind too much.
In fact, he rested more and more into her side as the minutes ticked by. It didn’t take long for Milena to abandon her embroidery in favor of scratching through Lambert’s hair, her long nails providing such a pleasant sensation that she was sure that he’d purr if he could.
She wondered if the Cats could purr. Perhaps she’d ask Aiden. Or Aleksander. Or one of them in front of the other. That would be a fine entertainment for after dinner one night.
Blades and whetstone forgotten, Lambert slid down to the hearth-warmed floor so Milena could better continue her ministrations, leaning his head against her wool skirt.
After a few more minutes, Lambert sighed and turned his head into the fabric, face lost in the green folds of her outer layer. He reached up and touched her skirts with such reverence. Near as Milena could tell, he didn’t want to get under them, not at the moment, at least.
“What do you think?” She asked quietly, after a few moments of Lambert petting the fabric of her skirt.
“S’soft. Thick,” he managed to get out, his eyes heavily lidded.
“It is,” Milena agreed. “Very soft. Both sides, see?” She picked up a corner of the fabric and turned it over in her hand.
Lambert hummed, touching it gently.
When she first heard him do that, Milena had assumed he was imitating his older brother. She realized soon enough that the hum wasn’t so much an imitation but rather a Wolf trait in general.
Similar to the growls, yips, and rumbles of their animal counterparts, it seemed that Wolf Witchers had involuntarily grown an entire secondary language without even trying.
And yes, perhaps Geralt had the tendency to go nonverbal more than most, but Lambert was certainly second in such usage compared to the rest of the Wolves. In the past year, Milena had the privilege of learning all of Lambert’s quiet yet pointed signs.
And she did consider it a privilege.
“Soft,” Lambert agreed finally, not taking his eyes off of the fuzzy fabric.
“Keeps me warm.”
“Flowy.”
“Warm and flowy.” Milena smiled at him even though he didn’t see it. She let him keep his hands tucked into the folds of the skirt but she took his face in her hands, gently caressing his cheeks and up to his temples as her wolf fell further into his safe trance.
“Swish,” Lambert whispered, more to himself than Milena, she’s almost positive. He didn’t say the word as much as made the noise, clutching a small corner of her skirt and flicking it forward so it did, indeed, swish, ever so slightly.
“Swish,” Milena copied him and for her trouble, was graced with a gloriously warm Lambert smile. It stayed on his face even as he shut his eyes and pressed his cheek against the soft wool.
“I can? Skirt?” His voice cracked at the end. He still seemed calm but there was something more there that Milena couldn’t identify right away.
“You can skirt,” she told him easily, doing her best to keep her voice level so he didn’t think she was teasing him. “If you wanted,” Milena added carefully, making sure not to pause as she continued to run her fingers through his dark hair.
Lambert in a skirt.
Well, Milena found that she liked that image indeed. A soft one, maybe even the one she was wearing now. The deep green would look so lovely on him, especially if paired with his black leather armor.
She was torn a bit. On one hand, Lambert was less likely to be embarrassed if he tried on a skirt while in such a lovely floaty headspace. On the other hand, this wasn’t something the two of them had ever discussed. She wanted him to be fully in control of all his functions before going any further in revealing more of this part of him that Lambert clearly kept so close to his chest.
But they will eventually have the conversation, no matter how red his cheeks might get.
Milena resolved to facilitate it in the safest possible way for Lambert at a later time. She loved watching her Wolf as he did his best to articulate his thoughts for her. But if he needed to press his face against her skirts even then in order to admit to wanting to wear one, well then, she’ll make that happen too. Anything so he felt safe. Her brave, courage wolf, letting her see such a lovely part of him.
Milena ran her fingers through Lambert’s hair still and vowed that she would use the daggers he gave her against anyone who said the wrong word to him.
She closed her own eyes and let them both dream of the same thing: Lambert, smiling and pleased as punch to be wearing one of her skirts. Their skirts twirling at the same time while dancing to one of Jaskier’s jaunty tunes.
Yes, that was a lovely image indeed.
-
-
on ao3 here
