I also am done. Round about 1850 words or so. Might've been able to stretch it more for that sweet sweet EXP, but meh. It worked as it was, IMO. No point dragging it out. [hider=Geralt’s Dream] Geralt awoke with a start as his body landed [i]hard[/i] on the ground, letting out a pained groan as his eyes opened to the unwelcome sight of a swirling portal above him. “Wha?” He let out before pushing off the floor and looking around, his surroundings oddly familiar to him. “Wait, is this…” “Kaer Morhen? Yes, Geralt, how observant of you to recognize your home for how many years?” The familiar voice of Yennefer answered sarcastically. “Ugh. Hell of a wake-up, Yennefer. Couldn’t have put the portal over a bed? A pile of straw? Eskel, even?” Geralt joked. “No, Geralt, given that Eskel hasn’t been seen around here since the Wild Hunt attacked and…” Yennefer trailed off, and Geralt detected a touch of sadness, maybe even remorse. “You mean Vesemir.” He finished for her. “Speaking of, how’s Ciri doing? She around?” At the question, Yennefer’s spirits brightened noticeably. “I believe you mean Her Majesty Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon.” Geralt rolled his eyes at her snark. “Ah, yes, how could I have possibly made such a disrespectful mistake? Yennefer, I didn’t even give her father that much respect. And I practically raised the girl, I’m not going to call her ten different names.” He complained. Yennefer rolled her eyes in response. “I’m just saying that you need a touch more…refinement…when it comes to the upper echelons of society. Sorceresses don’t get by on just snark.” She only got a blank look from Geralt. “Could’ve fooled me.” Looking around the room for the first time since he’d awakened, Geralt frowned. “But why Kaer Morhen, anyway? We’ve avoided this place since Vesemir died.” The look Yennefer gave him was hardly a kind one. “Because, Geralt, despite your…reasons….for not wanting to be here, Kaer Morhen is still easily defensible, it has quite a lot of open space, and I needed us to have…privacy.” [i]That[/i] piqued Geralt’s interest. “Oh? Whatever would we need privacy for?” He asked, stepping closer to his beloved. “Something involving…a unicorn.” Yennefer replied, a smolder in her voice. “After you bathe.” Turning away suddenly and grabbing a towel, she tossed it harshly at the Witcher, wrinkling her face. “You smell absolutely horrendous. Whatever have you been doing while you were gone? Actually, on second thought…I don’t want to know. I’ll just assume you were fighting some dreadful sea beast.” “That….is actually exactly what happened. Wait, how long was I gone?” Geralt asked, ignoring the comment about his stench. He knew he wasn’t exactly the most pleasant-smelling Witcher out there. “After. You bathe.” Yennefer pointedly demanded. “I wasn’t joking, Geralt, it’s disgusting.” _________________________________________________________________________________________ “I must admit, it’s quite nice to not have some…grand adventure pulling us away from enjoying ourselves.” Yennefer sighed. “Have to agree. No wake, no Trial of the Grasses to prepare…no grand battle in the evening. We can actually relax for once.” Geralt agreed, sitting up in the bed. “I noticed you’ve a few new scars. Must’ve been quite the place you ended up in.” Yennefer kissed his back, finger trailing along one of said new scars. “I wound up in this place the locals called the ‘Land of Adventure.’ All sorts of folk were raring to go off and fight monsters and beasts for the local ‘guild’, they called it.” Geralt found himself recalling Lumbridge fondly, despite the short amount of time he’d spent there, looking forward to coming home. “They treated me like I was some sort of hero there. It was terrible, people would crowd me and ask me to sign paper for them, even bothered me when I was just trying to eat sometimes!” “You were popular. How quaint. They must never have seen you angry.” Yennefer now had her arms around his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. “Almost prefer folk scowling and crossing the street when they walk past.” Geralt mumbled. “It’d be less of a hassle to just ignore ‘em. Hard to get anything done when you’ve got a mob around you that you can’t fight past.” Yennefer lifted her head off his shoulder and chuckled. “What a brute. You’d cut down your adoring fans?” “Long as they left me alone afterwards.” Geralt sarcastically replied. “So…I was wondering how long I was gone before you interrupted me. Not that I minded.” Yennefer chuckled again. “Oh I’m sure you didn’t mind. You’ve not been gone overly long, only about three weeks. Ciri’s taken to her duties as Empress…but she was upset. When she came out of that tower, you were gone. She thought she’d killed you, Geralt. Avallac’h actually told her that you still lived, gave her hope…and then he left, too, back to his home. She was distraught, but the knowledge that you’d survived kept her going these past weeks. Emhyr’s already abdicated. She’s officially the Empress of the Nilfgaardian Empire.” Geralt shook his head and turned to Yennefer in shock. “I…didn’t think you were serious. I’m gone three weeks and she’s taken over Nilfgaard?” He sighed. “I guess it’s better her than Emhyr, though…” “I’m going to miss her, too, Geralt.” Yennefer sounded sad as she tried to comfort Geralt, who sighed. “I just wish I’d been there to see her off. Would’ve been nice…” Yennefer hugged Geralt around his chest. “If you must, you can see her at any time, you know. She’s not too busy for her father figure.” Kissing the side of his head, Yennefer climbed out of the bed and began putting on her clothes. “I unfortunately do have some matters to attend to, however. Eskel was right about one thing when we were here: this place is in serious disrepair. I know you all decided not to stick around, but there is an abundance of information that I could study in this place. I simply couldn’t leave it behind.” Geralt stood, more than a little displeased. “I hope you don’t mean anything to do with the Trial of the Grasses.” Yennefer, for her part, scoffed. “We destroyed those notes, Geralt, and even I’d not put a child through what you went through. I sometimes wish you didn’t have so low an opinion of me.” His face softened, and he stepped forward to embrace her. “Yennefer, I love you. But you’re not the kindest person at times. I know I’m no saint myself, but I need to be sure no more Witchers are [i]ever[/i] made. It’s evil.” It was a bit surprised when Yennefer embraced him back, to be sure, but Geralt smiled against her neck before they separated. “I trust you, though. If you say that’s not what it’s for, then I’ll believe you.” “Thank you, Geralt. It’s actually your potions. I’ve been thinking of ways to dilute them, make them suitable for human consumption. As it is, your…Swallow, was it? Is a lethal poison to anybody but a Witcher. But if we could manage to make them less concentrated….” _______________________________________________________________________________________ It had been a week since Geralt had awakened at Kaer Morhen, a week of research, collecting alchemical ingredients, and debauchery, before Yennefer asked Geralt if he’d like to leave to see Ciri. “Of course I want to see her, Yennefer. But she’s the Empress, we can’t just stroll into the palace and demand an audience.” “Whyever not, Geralt? We’re practically her parents, and I happen to be a well-known and respected Sorceress. Any guard would be a fool to stand in our way.” Geralt shook his head. “Rather not cause a diplomatic incident, Yennefer.” On seeing his face, the Sorceress smirked. “Geralt, have you been putting off seeing your beloved Cirilla because you don’t want to get dressed up again? You look just…positively [i]dashing[/i] in formal wear, you know.” Yennefer ran a hand down his chest, removing it just a little too high for his liking. “It’s not that, if she has important things to do, we shouldn’t be bothering her.” Yennefer wasn’t buying it. “Nonsense, Geralt, I doubt we’d ever be a bother to the girl. How many monsters and people did you fight through to rescue her? She was ecstatic to see you when she woke up!” The Witcher could only sigh in response. “I don’t want to wake up.” He admitted. “What?” Yennefer stepped back, aghast. “I don’t want to wake up and go back to that place. This past week has been wonderful, but my signs don’t work. Only Igni and Quen. Only the ones I had when I went back to sleep in that weird world. My senses are still a little dulled. That’s not to mention the other little things you got wrong.” Yennefer’s features flickered for a moment, only to seemingly settle on an even more beautiful version of herself. “I’ve no idea what you mean. I’m a Sorceress, Geralt, I’ve never lied to you about the…help I’ve given myself in the appearance department. We can’t all be blessed to age as slowly as you do.” She joked, stepping back in to caress his face. “If you’d rather stay here, it’s no problem. We can see Ciri another time.” Geralt stood his ground, however. “I’m sorry, whoever…whatever you are. I need to wake up. I need to find them. Wherever they really are, not in this dream.” Yennefer sighed, and the gentle caress on his face turned to a burning pain as Geralt’s flesh bubbled. Stumbling backwards, Geralt used his Igni sign, causing Yennefer to disappear as the flames carried on through her. As she disappeared, so did the pain in Geralt’s face, along with the bedroom and the castle surrounding them. Geralt found himself stranded in a void of pitch blackness. [i]’Embrace the Dream, Geralt of Rivia. You can have whatever it is you wish, as long as you submit. Give up your fight, and you will have your greatest desires.’[/i] A voice called out to Geralt from everywhere at once, surrounding him yet not overwhelming his senses. “I want to go home. Not to be toyed with by some monster with psychic powers.” Geralt challenged the omnipresent voice. [i]’Monster? I’m hurt. I merely brought these disparate lands together for the sake of peace. You all fought so desperately, so savagely. Then we came. We returned you to your original forms, where you could remain free from pain, free from suffering.’[/i] “Not buying it. Tyrants usually claim they’re doing the best for their people.” Geralt crossed his arms, glaring out into the nothingness before him. [i]’You’ll die.’[/i] “Fought death every day for 90 years, beast. Still around.” [i]’There’s no guarantee you’ll be happy.’[/i] “I won’t be happy here.” [i]You’ve no intent to surrender.’[/i] It wasn’t a question. “Never.” Pain radiated through his body. “NEVER!” Geralt shouted, body curling in on itself. After a moment, the pain was gone. Geralt awoke with a start as his body landed on the ground, and a gust of breath was forced out of his lungs. A reluctant look at the ceiling revealed the unpleasant, but somewhat familiar, sight of his room in Lumbridge. He sat up. “Dammit. Wonder what that was about.” He didn’t say he wondered if that really was just a dream, or something…more. He didn’t want to think about that. Just find a way home. Eventually. [/hider]