Pollux of Temeria

I will cut your throat out and wear it as a necklace

It had been quite some time since Jaskier had composed the song about Pollux and Geralt. Jaskier had split apart from the witchers for a small period of time in order to work on his sudden success.

With the whole encounter of Filivandrel looming over Pollux's head, she would simply never forget it. The scars on her face and back were more prominent than some of her previous scars. Her shoulder had healed fine, with the help of Geralt and her knowledge of alchemy and healing. The mental wound of being helpless once again, sat longer, and it festered; inhibiting her ability to fight as well as she used to. This mental block, along with the fear of losing his partner, caused Geralt to become all the more protective of his partner. Though he had endured far less, and was back to killing monsters with little difficulty, he still sat with the thought of what could've happened with the elves.

They traveled along the main road up a mountain, nearing Temeria, much to Pollux's protest. It was freezing. Winter had overtaken the land, as it had done when Pollux lived there centuries ago. Their breaths could be seen as they wandered near an old wooden building on the outskirts of the kingdom. It was a rundown shack, and it reeked of disappointment and shit, but it was warm and it offered shelter to the two witchers.

A small, sweaty man padded over to them, and demanded boldly, "What do you want?" Speaking to Pollux's male companion.

"What is this building used for?" Geralt asked.

The stout man gave him a crooked smirk, and raised a hand to Geralt's shoulder. "A whorehouse. You look like you may need some time in here."

Pollux looked at the man incredulously. But the look faltered when Geralt looked back at her, shrugging the man's hand from his shoulder. "Give us a moment."

Pollux looked up at her companion as the little man waddled a way grumbling. Geralt opened his mouth, to utter the words Pollux knew he would say.

"Maybe one of them has inf-"

"Just go Geralt." She uttered coldly. "I will stay with Roach." She didn't seem too perturbed to Geralt. He was surprised with the calm that laced her tone. She did not allude to any discomfort or anger with Geralt going in, even though she had been subjected to things of a similar nature long ago. Her disregard for the situation threw him off. He couldn't reply. Pollux handed him a few coins and took Roach to the stable without another word.

Admittedly Geralt grew annoyed. Pollux just let him leave, but even so he was angry with himself for potentially disappointing her. He grew disgusted with the thought of what he was doing as he snarled at the man who he walked passed. He felt the need to bathe the further he continued into the brothel, feeling confused as well. He had never felt this way about paying for a woman. Why would he feel this way? It's not like Pollux was his wife or anything, just his partner.

He approached a door with a woman inside. She was already undressed, sitting on the bed brushing her hair idly. Geralt closed the door and walked towards the woman, brushing the thought of Pollux from his mind reluctantly.

Meanwhile, Pollux was outside in the cold absentmindedly pacing the stables. She was furious that Geralt had brought her to the very kingdom that had tried to kill her many years ago. She almost killed him when he had mentioned it. Pollux had done her best to avoid the Kingdom of Temeria since her attempted assassination, yet somehow a man she had met not to long ago managed to drag her back. She was fuming, her face beet red from the cold and her anger. She couldn't help but angry. He had brought her back to the one place she refused to go, and then left her in the cold with his horse, for a whore. Pollux nearly broke down in tears from the thought of it alone. She couldn't figure out why she cared so much. It's not like she was involved with Geralt. Yet a little part of her couldn't help but feel hurt, being left for a woman one must pay for. She was left out in the cold all alone.