The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That Bind

Chapter Thirty

Outside Guleta, 1242

For a rare moment, Geralt was alone. He unsaddled Roach and started to brush her coat.

"I miss our talks," he said after several strokes. "Do you?"

Roach snorted and Geralt nodded. "I know. Things have changed in the past few years, haven't they? For the better, I think."

Roach turned her head and eyed him critically. Geralt chuckled. "I know the bard is annoying, but the mage is nice, isn't she? And don't complain about the added weight. She's not that heavy."

Roach made a huffing sound and Geralt laughed. "I know you like her too. She smells good, doesn't she? Much better than me."

Geralt fell into a thoughtful silence. Roach followed suit, but snorted again after a minute. Geralt glanced at her and shook his head. "It's not like that. You know I'm not like that. She's my traveling companion, and we happen to enjoy sharing a bed. That's all."

Roach whinnied loudly and Geralt shot her a stern look. "So what if I haven't slept with anyone else since meeting her? Why would I? Most of the women I slept with before were whores. Why would I pay when she's right here and willing?"

He paused. "Does that make me sound creepy?"

"Yes," Jaskier answered him, emerging from behind a nearby tree. "Yes, it does."

Geralt stiffened, immediately wondering how much Jaskier had heard. The bard always assumed anything he said about Robin had some hidden meaning.

"Who are you talking to, exactly?" Jaskier wondered, looking around.

Robin was still at the river, he assumed. She liked baths, and they were hard to come by on the road, so she took one whenever she had the chance.

Geralt shrugged. "I talk to my horse," he admitted.

"That's sad," Jaskier observed bluntly, leaning on a tree near them.

"Is it?" Geralt replied, hoping Jaskier would focus on Roach and forget about whatever he'd overheard.

But, of course, he had no such luck.

"So there hasn't been anyone else since you met my charming sister?" Jaskier questioned him.

"It's not a question of anyone else, Jaskier," Geralt responded shortly.

"I heard you. You generally sleep with whores. And I understand. Your life is unusual. Unless someone's willing to travel with you, you wouldn't see them that often." He hesitated. "Has there ever been anyone like Robin before?"

"Someone I've traveled with consistently? No. But you're going to make that into something it's not, Jaskier. You always do," Geralt growled.

Jaskier laughed lightly. "You don't scare me, Geralt," he confessed.

"That's too bad," Geralt rumbled back.

Jaskier shrugged. "Not when it comes to this. I know you have deeper feelings for her, and her for you. She's not saying anything because she thinks it's not what you want. You're not saying anything because you're too stubborn."

"Why does it matter so much to you?" Geralt snapped. "You're wrong, Jaskier. Are you so arrogant that you can't accept that?"

Jaskier bit his lip and then murmured, "It matters to me because she's going to live far longer than I am, and I don't want her to be alone when I'm gone. I want to know that she's taken care of. And not just taken care of. Happy."

Geralt was stunned into silence for a moment. Jaskier was young, so young that it rarely occurred to him that the bard was going to age normally while his sister didn't. No one knew precisely why those with magic lived longer. He didn't even know why he lived longer, for that matter. But the truth was that Jaskier was right.

No matter how much magic Robin learned, none of it could extend her brother's lifespan. She would likely live twice as long as he did, maybe even longer, if nothing violent happened to her first.

He sighed heavily and looked at the bard, who was staring steadfastly at his feet. "I would never let anything happen to her, Jaskier," he promised. "You know that."

"I do," Jaskier agreed. "But it's because you love her. I'd just like to see you admit it before I'm gone."

Another denial was on Geralt's lips, but he never said it, because Robin chose that moment to rejoin them. She looked from Geralt to Jaskier curiously.

"You two seem very serious," she commented. "What's going on?"

Jaskier shook his head. "Nothing that's important right now," he assured her. "We'll resolve it before it's too late."

Her brow furrowed as he hugged her tightly, but she hugged him back without saying anything. "I love you, Robin."

"I love you too, Jas."

He let go of her and wandered off on his own, leaving her with Geralt. "What was that about?" she inquired.

"I'm not sure," Geralt told her.

They'd had this conversation before. They knew what their relationship was, even if no one else wanted to admit it.

She moved over to him, brushing some of his hair out of his face and staring up into his eyes. "I know that's a lie," she accused him.

His naturally slow heart sped up. If she suddenly realized what else he was lying about, she'd leave.

Then she giggled. "But you'll tell me when you're ready. If it even matters. You two talk about the most ridiculous things."

He smiled at her. "Yes. Yes, we do."

He cupped her cheeks in his hands and bent down to kiss her. She kissed him back, humming and grabbing his elbows, squeezing them tightly as he deepened the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, she was blushing. He kissed her forehead as she bit her lip.

"I should, um, get dinner ready," she decided.

He nodded. "I'll be along to help in a moment."

She moved to the fire, glancing back at him every few seconds. He smiled to himself as he finished up with Roach.

The horse tossed her head and snorted. He rubbed her nose and shook his own head at her.

"I thought I told you to hush," he scolded her. "You're supposed to be on my side."

She whinnied again and he chuckled. "I think I'm lucky that you can't talk," he confessed. "You'd both gang up on me."

He'd just have to be content with the fact that he and Robin knew the truth, even though no one else did.

He wasn't in love. He enjoyed having her around, yes, and he was lying to keep it that way. But it wasn't a horrible lie. Not one that was going to hurt anyone. Except for her, if she found out. And when she realized that Yennefer's plot was going to come to nothing, it wouldn't matter anymore.

Things were perfect the way they were. He just wanted them to stay that way for now. That was all.

Love wasn't for him. As long as she understood that and didn't let her brother's ideas get to her, everything would be just fine.