I cannot find any mod folder. Pls. give us more deatiled info for install. Where should be put these two files? How should I install the "hair mod"?
Edit: Problem is likely solved.
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Hell yeah, more Triss, but not too much. I have to admit I love her original hair style better, although I think her alternate hair style will be best with her dress at the ball.
Quite nice 
Some credits to the NSFW?
---------- Updated at 08:31 PM ----------
Hello so i recently finished my colorful drawing of Triss. Its first nude i ever done. Hope you like ithttps://www.facebook.com/Blondynkite...143570/?type=1
Mine facebook page : https://www.facebook.com/Blondynkitezgraja
Some credits to the NSFW?---------- Updated at 08:31 PM ----------
Hello so i recently finished my colorful drawing of Triss. Its first nude i ever done. Hope you like it
https://www.facebook.com/Blondynkite...143570/?type=1Mine facebook page : https://www.facebook.com/Blondynkitezgraja
Attachments
Thank You for sharing Your amazing drawing. I like it a lot. So many beautiful details.Hello so i recently finished my colorful drawing of Triss. Its first nude i ever done. Hope you like it
Mine faceb
Very fine work: Well done! I like the colours, shading, and the technique you used on the trees across the water in particular. Keep it up!Hello so i recently finished my colorful drawing of Triss. Its first nude i ever done. Hope you like it
Fantastic work of art. Nicely done!Quite nice
---------- Updated at 08:31 PM ----------
Hello so i recently finished my colorful drawing of Triss. Its first nude i ever done. Hope you like it
Mine facebook page : https://www.facebook.com/Blondynkitezgraja
Impressive. Excellent work and thanks for sharing.Quite nice
---------- Updated at 08:31 PM ----------
Hello so i recently finished my colorful drawing of Triss. Its first nude i ever done. Hope you like it
Mine facebook page : https://www.facebook.com/Blondynkitezgraja
Here is the mod, if someone is interested: http://www.mediafire.com/download/ulb48v6d19wi6vd/TrissBlue.rar
Attachments
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Here is the mod, if someone is interested: http://www.mediafire.com/download/ulb48v6d19wi6vd/TrissBlue.rar
Very nice work, the blue is a little too intense for me, its very vibrant.
But the colour scheme in general is nice.
Here goes my own fanfic. Have been trying to write for a while but some silly jrpgs caught my attention and with Shadowrun coming tomorrow, I just wanted to post what I had.
It is still a little (ok, a lot) rought around the edges, but I hope you enjoy it.
Part 1, Geralt PoV
Part 2, Triss PoV
It is still a little (ok, a lot) rought around the edges, but I hope you enjoy it.
Part 1, Geralt PoV
“Just shut up and take my orens!”
The words of the mayor still buzzed in his head. Upon learning that another witcher had taken up the contract, Geralt had been quite insistent on knowing his identity. And the mayor had less than forthcoming.
The white haired man tried to think of a reason why the presence of another of his kind had bothered him so. It certainly wasn’t coming from the loss of income that this new competition could signify. He had earned quite a haul in his more recent adventures, and Kovir, a rich land by any standards, made for rich peasants, as demonstrated by the heavy purse he was carrying, earned just by dispatching a lowly nest of drowners. Not to mention that his lover earned a fortune as the king’s advisor and could, if necessary, cover any expenses both might have if he ever decided to slack off.
So no. Definitely not about money.
Perhaps it had to do with his recent and not so friendly encounters with witchers from different schools than his. He’d been forced to kill a few of them and those actions still troubled him. They were a dying breed, a relic of times long past and, because of the machinations of a few powerful men, they had found themselves on different sides of the fence.
He wasn’t entirely blameless in that regard, he had been at playing politics too. Perhaps out of necessity or circumstance, but the fact remained he had placed himself there. And he hated it. Nothing good ever came from his involvement in the world affairs, and yet, he always seemed to find himself in the middle of them.
He consoled himself by remembering that whenever he could, he stayed out. Even when it was something that seemed obvious to the most clueless of bystanders. King Radovid was a man who threatened the lives of many he held dear. The opportunity to get rid of him had been there. And he had walked out. In light of the more recent events, he realized that had been a mistake, still, his priorities had been clear at the time.
Another byproduct of his neutrality had been his decision to spare Letho’s life. The man had caused him no end of trouble. Not to mention capturing Triss, subjecting her to many hardships in the process. The sight of her, beaten and bruised on that Nifgaardian dungeon still brought him shivers. Yes, he had killed those directly responsible for her treatment. Every single person in that camp had met their end by his blade. And he ought to have killed Letho just for that reason alone.
But in the end, he had stayed his hand. Maybe he thought there had been enough death already. Or maybe his tale about how he cared for Yennefer when Geralt himself had been unable to, had tipped the scales.
A wave of nostalgia hit him as his thoughts focused on the raven haired sorceress. Though often apart from each other, she had been a constant in his thoughts and heart for as long as he could remember. They separations and reunions had been just another trait of their relationship, something uncomfortable but a fact that both had come to accept as normal. Last time, though, it had been different and they both had known it.
The euphoria of Ciri’s return from wherever she had had gone had not been enough to overcome the bittersweet mood of their last farewell.
The sadness in those violet eyes betrayed the smile she wore as she wished him and her friend good luck in their future life together. He could relate to the feelings in those eyes, as his had borne a similar expression. A pain, a sensation of loss, a feeling that something that both held dear was being ripped off from its existence.
But it had to be done. In order for something to be born, something had to give way. And had wanted, he had chosen Triss. At those docks, when it seemed she would erase herself from his life forever, his heart and mind still torn between two strong currents, the matter had been settled for him. His voice had, for the first time and almost involuntarily, uttered words that had given form, entity to feelings that had been deeply rooted within him.
His train of thought was interrupted by a change in the other otherwise monotonous landscape. He had been riding a narrow path surrounded from both sides by the low hills that were the staple of this country he now called home.
Just ahead of him was the mouth of a cave. His enhanced eyes perceived it without difficulty, even as the sun had already hidden its presence behind the ridgeline, marking the hour as late.
He was surprised to realize that he had stayed from the main road and ridden to the location given up reluctantly by the mayor. Curiosity had the better of him and he dismounted, deciding to at least check the entrance for signs of this new arrival.
The entrance was scarcely populated by a few shrubs and, standing on its wake, he could see the that cave ran deep into the earth. Using his witcher senses, he examined the ground closely, noticing several sets of tracks. The most noticeable were the clearly inhuman shapes left by the monsters, nekkers if there had been any truth to villagers’ tale.
Apart from those, he noticed other distinctive sets. The first one corresponded, as far as he could discern, to a well made pair of boots, no doubt belonging to his wannabe competitor. The others were lighter and he had difficulty placing them correctly.
This mystery got the better of him and decided against his common sense to check further into the cave. He convinced himself by thinking that perhaps this new witcher was either Lambert or Eske,l and they might need some help. That his friends wouldn’t come to his new home without first visiting his house was something he didn’t dwell on as he got ready to delve into the darkness.
First he checked his pouch, noticing he had few potions left from his last job. He thought he identified a flask of cat potion and promptly emptied its contents into his mouth. As the nausea left him, he noticed with annoyance that the expected clarity of sight never arrived. Instead he felt a renewed wave of vigor. He sighed, deciding it would have to do and he set forth on his way.
The cave was almost pitch black and, as far as he could see, completely empty. He made his way further in, with an ominous and uncomfortable feeling in the back of his head.
Still unchallenged in his exploration of the cave, he noticed that in the way ahead the tunnel he had been navigating opened into a large and more illuminated chamber. With the intention of not losing the element of surprise against whatever awaited him there, he silently withdrew his silver sword from its scabbard.
He walked forward, sword in one hand and a grapeshot in the other, in case the nekkers decided to use their usual overwhelming numbers against him.
His pace continued to be unchallenged though, until he eventually noticed a small mound in the middle of the chamber. He approached it carefully and noticed it was made of out smaller shapes. As he got closer, he noticed a small way leading to the right, probably the continuation of the system of caves. Still, he needed to see what this new object, which had picked his interest in a rather curious way, was about. So he moved closer.
As Geralt got within a few yards from it, the indistinct shapes took form before his eyes. They were heads. The heads of a dozen or so nekkers, neatly separated from their bodies, had been left there by whoever had committed the deed.
Slightly taken aback, he came closer still and noticed a piece of parchment, attached to the head on the top, by means of a vaguely familiar dagger.
This strange situation certainly made for a very weird kind of trap, yet if there was something his long life had taught him, it was that it only took a moment with your guard down for someone to get the better of you. So he moved to one of the corners in the chamber and waited in the dark.
The eerie environment of the room was unaltered. Five, then ten minutes passed. He decided that perhaps he was being a little bit overcautious. He approached the pile and took out the note. The dim light made for a poor medium in which to discern its contents. Having grown impatient by his earlier and futile wait, Geralt deemed stealth to be pointless. Tucking away his bomb, he used his free arm cast igni on the assortment of heads.
The whole chamber illuminated instantly, revealing itself, as Gerald had begun to realize, to be completely devoid of anything worthy of note. As he turned his gaze towards the note however, the whole place reverberated with the sound of a high-pitched scream. It belonged to a voice he knew too well.
He carelessly dropped the parchment into the fire and ran towards the direction of the sound.
His race took him out of the big chamber and into the side entrance, almost in a blur. There was no time to take in the details, and there were none to be had, the light coming from distance casting shadows on the seemingly empty walls. He heard the scream again, more closely this time and he quickened his pace, making it to the end of the narrow tunnel, which ended in another, smaller chamber. This one was barely illuminated by the remnants of the light he had created just moments before.
A quick scan of his new surroundings revealed a small pond in the middle. The waters were dark, but he was able to make out a figure in the middle.
“Geralt! I’m so glad it’s you!” the figure said, with obvious relief in her face. “The water... I can’t move.”
His lover, Triss Merigold, was in the middle of the pond, apparently trapped somehow. Her auburn hair was loose and wet. Her beautiful face bore an expression of utter terror as she scream yet again. She was also, as far as could discern with the poor lighting in the area, completely devoid of any clothing.
In his head, he quickly went through his knowledge of monsters, yielding no explanation as to which might be involved. Or what might be happening in the first place. He knew a few creatures that would paralyze their victims, but never a case in which the later retained their control of speech to such degrees.
“Triss, what happened?” he asked, his mind racing through the possibilities.
“Can’t... hurry... the water... crushing me” she answered with difficulty. He considered diving to reach her, discarding the idea almost instantly. There was no way to reach her without being at the mercy of whatever was holding her, in which case this place would become a tomb for both of them. She was too far off from any side to try to hoist her up from solid ground either. Even if he had a rope, he saw no way for her to actually grab it. He was running out of options.
“Hurry! Jump in and get me out! My magic is blocked, but you... your natural resistance should suffice. It hurts!” She sounded even more desperate.
That settled it. He dropped his sack and swords in the ground, considered taking his shirt off but saw no point in it and dove head first into the small pond. He met no resistance from the water as he reached the bottom, noticing with relief that it was shallow enough for Triss’s feet to be reaching the ground.
Still underwater, he opened his eyes, searching for something out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, even his enhanced vision offered nothing in the pitch black environment. He used his hands to rebound and turning his body into an upward position he propelled himself up.
As his head surfaced though, whatever he was about to say was forgotten when his whole body was hit by something, like a strong current. He cursed internally. All the parts of himself that were in direct contact with the water had been paralyzed. He retained his senses, but was unable to move even them an inch.
“Triss, I’m so-“
His speech was cut again, this time because his eyes had caught something strange. Triss, who by his own calculations should have been at least a small distance away from where he has dived, was right next to him. He could see her blue eyes eyes fixed on him.
“How-“
His words were cut yet again, this time by her finger reaching his lips.
“Hush... You careless witcher. You were caught by the witch,” she said with a hint of a smile.
“You can move,” he said, the situation slowly dawning on him, feeling a rush of excitement surge through his body.
“Indeed,” she replied playfully. “And it would seem you may not.”
“So… I am at your mercy. What are you going to do to me?”
“Ahhh, that’s the question. What should I do with you?” Triss said with a slow and purry voice, her body coming closer, to the point where she was almost pressed against him.
“You shouldn’t trust the words of beautiful women that you meet in these dark dungeons. You seem to have grown careless... You are so used to coming to places like these, all strong, slaying the poor monsters.” Her hands were grabbing his shirt and tearing it open. “Maybe it’s time somebody stood up for the poor creatures… yes… I believe I should take up that role and...”
“And?” he said, when she wouldn’t go on.
“Punish you accordingly” she finished, kissing him strongly in the mouth. His instincts were to grab her body as well and he involuntarily tried to do so. His arms however, were not responding. Even in his lust, his posture showed a bit of frustration, which she caught on after some time, causing her to disentangle herself from his body.
“So, it seems you don’t enjoy the role of the victim here.” He wanted to assure her that was definitely not the case, but as he stared at her, he noticed she had placed a finger in her mouth, thinking to herself. “Mmmm… I am not without mercy… and you did try to save me… so, tell you what. I’m going to tell you some “safe” words. And if you say them, we’ll stop this right here.”
Geralt was sure that whatever those words might be, saying them would be the last thing he ever did. Still, he played along. “And the words are?”
As if waiting for precisely that, she moved slowly and seductively towards him again. Her body now firmly pressed with his, he felt in his skin the signs that she was indeed aroused as well. She wrapped her arms around his neck and manouvered her head so that her lips were close to his ear, telling him the phrase with a whisper, which in turn raised his body temperature even more.
“Those… seem to be pretty ambiguous. You could-”
“I know… You’re going to have to trust me to make the right call if you say them,” she concluded. He said no more and they stood there, staring at each other.
She smiled, taking for granted from his silence that he would not make any further objections. Her hands left his neck and worked their down, still they found his last remaining piece of clothing. They promptly removed it and he was left just as she was. Unable to contain himself, he tried to wrap his own arms around her back in an attempt to pull her even closer, again to no avail.
She raised an eyebrow questioningly at him and he might have said something, except that she had quickly again resumed her earlier position of clutching to his neck. This time though, she began moving rhythmically up and down. He could still move his head though and used him to kiss her passionately. Unable to do more, he surrendered to the bliss his body was experiencing.
They continued like that for a while. Triss eventually broke the kiss and tilted her head back, moaning with pleasure. She increased her tempo and her yells become louder. Louder, perhaps, than his previous calls for her had been.
He noticed her breathing was quickening as she was beginning to reach her climax. His own reason gone, by reflex he tried to bring her face back to his own. In the back of his mind he was a little surprised to see his arms actually break free from the water and do what they were commanded.
Kissing again, he left one hand there to continue pressing her and lowered the other so he could grab her bottom, assisting her in their rhythm. Triss gave no signs of noticing this change, still lost in lust. He did notice though, that the spell had been broken and he had already started matching his movements to hers.
A few moments passed and they both both reached their limit together. Panting with exhaustion and a smile in her face, she kissed him and freed herself from his grasp.
“The spell broke,” he said, stating the obvious.
“You are a witcher after all, and this witch here apparently misjudged your prowess in the field.”
“So-” he began.
“Considered me defeated then... and thoroughly pleased”
“I don’t know about that, maybe I should deliver the killing blow just in case... unless of course, you feel like giving up and saying the words.”
She paused, seemingly considering his proposal. His lust however, waited for no answer and he grabbed her, turning her around so her back and other features of her body were towards him.
Meekly, perhaps out of exhaustion, she bent her body, holding herself with her arms against the border of the pond. She turned her head, fixing him with a blue stare, filled with tiredness but also desire. “All right,” she said. “You win.... make love to me Geralt.”
He eagerly complied.
The words of the mayor still buzzed in his head. Upon learning that another witcher had taken up the contract, Geralt had been quite insistent on knowing his identity. And the mayor had less than forthcoming.
The white haired man tried to think of a reason why the presence of another of his kind had bothered him so. It certainly wasn’t coming from the loss of income that this new competition could signify. He had earned quite a haul in his more recent adventures, and Kovir, a rich land by any standards, made for rich peasants, as demonstrated by the heavy purse he was carrying, earned just by dispatching a lowly nest of drowners. Not to mention that his lover earned a fortune as the king’s advisor and could, if necessary, cover any expenses both might have if he ever decided to slack off.
So no. Definitely not about money.
Perhaps it had to do with his recent and not so friendly encounters with witchers from different schools than his. He’d been forced to kill a few of them and those actions still troubled him. They were a dying breed, a relic of times long past and, because of the machinations of a few powerful men, they had found themselves on different sides of the fence.
He wasn’t entirely blameless in that regard, he had been at playing politics too. Perhaps out of necessity or circumstance, but the fact remained he had placed himself there. And he hated it. Nothing good ever came from his involvement in the world affairs, and yet, he always seemed to find himself in the middle of them.
He consoled himself by remembering that whenever he could, he stayed out. Even when it was something that seemed obvious to the most clueless of bystanders. King Radovid was a man who threatened the lives of many he held dear. The opportunity to get rid of him had been there. And he had walked out. In light of the more recent events, he realized that had been a mistake, still, his priorities had been clear at the time.
Another byproduct of his neutrality had been his decision to spare Letho’s life. The man had caused him no end of trouble. Not to mention capturing Triss, subjecting her to many hardships in the process. The sight of her, beaten and bruised on that Nifgaardian dungeon still brought him shivers. Yes, he had killed those directly responsible for her treatment. Every single person in that camp had met their end by his blade. And he ought to have killed Letho just for that reason alone.
But in the end, he had stayed his hand. Maybe he thought there had been enough death already. Or maybe his tale about how he cared for Yennefer when Geralt himself had been unable to, had tipped the scales.
A wave of nostalgia hit him as his thoughts focused on the raven haired sorceress. Though often apart from each other, she had been a constant in his thoughts and heart for as long as he could remember. They separations and reunions had been just another trait of their relationship, something uncomfortable but a fact that both had come to accept as normal. Last time, though, it had been different and they both had known it.
The euphoria of Ciri’s return from wherever she had had gone had not been enough to overcome the bittersweet mood of their last farewell.
The sadness in those violet eyes betrayed the smile she wore as she wished him and her friend good luck in their future life together. He could relate to the feelings in those eyes, as his had borne a similar expression. A pain, a sensation of loss, a feeling that something that both held dear was being ripped off from its existence.
But it had to be done. In order for something to be born, something had to give way. And had wanted, he had chosen Triss. At those docks, when it seemed she would erase herself from his life forever, his heart and mind still torn between two strong currents, the matter had been settled for him. His voice had, for the first time and almost involuntarily, uttered words that had given form, entity to feelings that had been deeply rooted within him.
His train of thought was interrupted by a change in the other otherwise monotonous landscape. He had been riding a narrow path surrounded from both sides by the low hills that were the staple of this country he now called home.
Just ahead of him was the mouth of a cave. His enhanced eyes perceived it without difficulty, even as the sun had already hidden its presence behind the ridgeline, marking the hour as late.
He was surprised to realize that he had stayed from the main road and ridden to the location given up reluctantly by the mayor. Curiosity had the better of him and he dismounted, deciding to at least check the entrance for signs of this new arrival.
The entrance was scarcely populated by a few shrubs and, standing on its wake, he could see the that cave ran deep into the earth. Using his witcher senses, he examined the ground closely, noticing several sets of tracks. The most noticeable were the clearly inhuman shapes left by the monsters, nekkers if there had been any truth to villagers’ tale.
Apart from those, he noticed other distinctive sets. The first one corresponded, as far as he could discern, to a well made pair of boots, no doubt belonging to his wannabe competitor. The others were lighter and he had difficulty placing them correctly.
This mystery got the better of him and decided against his common sense to check further into the cave. He convinced himself by thinking that perhaps this new witcher was either Lambert or Eske,l and they might need some help. That his friends wouldn’t come to his new home without first visiting his house was something he didn’t dwell on as he got ready to delve into the darkness.
First he checked his pouch, noticing he had few potions left from his last job. He thought he identified a flask of cat potion and promptly emptied its contents into his mouth. As the nausea left him, he noticed with annoyance that the expected clarity of sight never arrived. Instead he felt a renewed wave of vigor. He sighed, deciding it would have to do and he set forth on his way.
The cave was almost pitch black and, as far as he could see, completely empty. He made his way further in, with an ominous and uncomfortable feeling in the back of his head.
Still unchallenged in his exploration of the cave, he noticed that in the way ahead the tunnel he had been navigating opened into a large and more illuminated chamber. With the intention of not losing the element of surprise against whatever awaited him there, he silently withdrew his silver sword from its scabbard.
He walked forward, sword in one hand and a grapeshot in the other, in case the nekkers decided to use their usual overwhelming numbers against him.
His pace continued to be unchallenged though, until he eventually noticed a small mound in the middle of the chamber. He approached it carefully and noticed it was made of out smaller shapes. As he got closer, he noticed a small way leading to the right, probably the continuation of the system of caves. Still, he needed to see what this new object, which had picked his interest in a rather curious way, was about. So he moved closer.
As Geralt got within a few yards from it, the indistinct shapes took form before his eyes. They were heads. The heads of a dozen or so nekkers, neatly separated from their bodies, had been left there by whoever had committed the deed.
Slightly taken aback, he came closer still and noticed a piece of parchment, attached to the head on the top, by means of a vaguely familiar dagger.
This strange situation certainly made for a very weird kind of trap, yet if there was something his long life had taught him, it was that it only took a moment with your guard down for someone to get the better of you. So he moved to one of the corners in the chamber and waited in the dark.
The eerie environment of the room was unaltered. Five, then ten minutes passed. He decided that perhaps he was being a little bit overcautious. He approached the pile and took out the note. The dim light made for a poor medium in which to discern its contents. Having grown impatient by his earlier and futile wait, Geralt deemed stealth to be pointless. Tucking away his bomb, he used his free arm cast igni on the assortment of heads.
The whole chamber illuminated instantly, revealing itself, as Gerald had begun to realize, to be completely devoid of anything worthy of note. As he turned his gaze towards the note however, the whole place reverberated with the sound of a high-pitched scream. It belonged to a voice he knew too well.
He carelessly dropped the parchment into the fire and ran towards the direction of the sound.
His race took him out of the big chamber and into the side entrance, almost in a blur. There was no time to take in the details, and there were none to be had, the light coming from distance casting shadows on the seemingly empty walls. He heard the scream again, more closely this time and he quickened his pace, making it to the end of the narrow tunnel, which ended in another, smaller chamber. This one was barely illuminated by the remnants of the light he had created just moments before.
A quick scan of his new surroundings revealed a small pond in the middle. The waters were dark, but he was able to make out a figure in the middle.
“Geralt! I’m so glad it’s you!” the figure said, with obvious relief in her face. “The water... I can’t move.”
His lover, Triss Merigold, was in the middle of the pond, apparently trapped somehow. Her auburn hair was loose and wet. Her beautiful face bore an expression of utter terror as she scream yet again. She was also, as far as could discern with the poor lighting in the area, completely devoid of any clothing.
In his head, he quickly went through his knowledge of monsters, yielding no explanation as to which might be involved. Or what might be happening in the first place. He knew a few creatures that would paralyze their victims, but never a case in which the later retained their control of speech to such degrees.
“Triss, what happened?” he asked, his mind racing through the possibilities.
“Can’t... hurry... the water... crushing me” she answered with difficulty. He considered diving to reach her, discarding the idea almost instantly. There was no way to reach her without being at the mercy of whatever was holding her, in which case this place would become a tomb for both of them. She was too far off from any side to try to hoist her up from solid ground either. Even if he had a rope, he saw no way for her to actually grab it. He was running out of options.
“Hurry! Jump in and get me out! My magic is blocked, but you... your natural resistance should suffice. It hurts!” She sounded even more desperate.
That settled it. He dropped his sack and swords in the ground, considered taking his shirt off but saw no point in it and dove head first into the small pond. He met no resistance from the water as he reached the bottom, noticing with relief that it was shallow enough for Triss’s feet to be reaching the ground.
Still underwater, he opened his eyes, searching for something out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, even his enhanced vision offered nothing in the pitch black environment. He used his hands to rebound and turning his body into an upward position he propelled himself up.
As his head surfaced though, whatever he was about to say was forgotten when his whole body was hit by something, like a strong current. He cursed internally. All the parts of himself that were in direct contact with the water had been paralyzed. He retained his senses, but was unable to move even them an inch.
“Triss, I’m so-“
His speech was cut again, this time because his eyes had caught something strange. Triss, who by his own calculations should have been at least a small distance away from where he has dived, was right next to him. He could see her blue eyes eyes fixed on him.
“How-“
His words were cut yet again, this time by her finger reaching his lips.
“Hush... You careless witcher. You were caught by the witch,” she said with a hint of a smile.
“You can move,” he said, the situation slowly dawning on him, feeling a rush of excitement surge through his body.
“Indeed,” she replied playfully. “And it would seem you may not.”
“So… I am at your mercy. What are you going to do to me?”
“Ahhh, that’s the question. What should I do with you?” Triss said with a slow and purry voice, her body coming closer, to the point where she was almost pressed against him.
“You shouldn’t trust the words of beautiful women that you meet in these dark dungeons. You seem to have grown careless... You are so used to coming to places like these, all strong, slaying the poor monsters.” Her hands were grabbing his shirt and tearing it open. “Maybe it’s time somebody stood up for the poor creatures… yes… I believe I should take up that role and...”
“And?” he said, when she wouldn’t go on.
“Punish you accordingly” she finished, kissing him strongly in the mouth. His instincts were to grab her body as well and he involuntarily tried to do so. His arms however, were not responding. Even in his lust, his posture showed a bit of frustration, which she caught on after some time, causing her to disentangle herself from his body.
“So, it seems you don’t enjoy the role of the victim here.” He wanted to assure her that was definitely not the case, but as he stared at her, he noticed she had placed a finger in her mouth, thinking to herself. “Mmmm… I am not without mercy… and you did try to save me… so, tell you what. I’m going to tell you some “safe” words. And if you say them, we’ll stop this right here.”
Geralt was sure that whatever those words might be, saying them would be the last thing he ever did. Still, he played along. “And the words are?”
As if waiting for precisely that, she moved slowly and seductively towards him again. Her body now firmly pressed with his, he felt in his skin the signs that she was indeed aroused as well. She wrapped her arms around his neck and manouvered her head so that her lips were close to his ear, telling him the phrase with a whisper, which in turn raised his body temperature even more.
“Those… seem to be pretty ambiguous. You could-”
“I know… You’re going to have to trust me to make the right call if you say them,” she concluded. He said no more and they stood there, staring at each other.
She smiled, taking for granted from his silence that he would not make any further objections. Her hands left his neck and worked their down, still they found his last remaining piece of clothing. They promptly removed it and he was left just as she was. Unable to contain himself, he tried to wrap his own arms around her back in an attempt to pull her even closer, again to no avail.
She raised an eyebrow questioningly at him and he might have said something, except that she had quickly again resumed her earlier position of clutching to his neck. This time though, she began moving rhythmically up and down. He could still move his head though and used him to kiss her passionately. Unable to do more, he surrendered to the bliss his body was experiencing.
They continued like that for a while. Triss eventually broke the kiss and tilted her head back, moaning with pleasure. She increased her tempo and her yells become louder. Louder, perhaps, than his previous calls for her had been.
He noticed her breathing was quickening as she was beginning to reach her climax. His own reason gone, by reflex he tried to bring her face back to his own. In the back of his mind he was a little surprised to see his arms actually break free from the water and do what they were commanded.
Kissing again, he left one hand there to continue pressing her and lowered the other so he could grab her bottom, assisting her in their rhythm. Triss gave no signs of noticing this change, still lost in lust. He did notice though, that the spell had been broken and he had already started matching his movements to hers.
A few moments passed and they both both reached their limit together. Panting with exhaustion and a smile in her face, she kissed him and freed herself from his grasp.
“The spell broke,” he said, stating the obvious.
“You are a witcher after all, and this witch here apparently misjudged your prowess in the field.”
“So-” he began.
“Considered me defeated then... and thoroughly pleased”
“I don’t know about that, maybe I should deliver the killing blow just in case... unless of course, you feel like giving up and saying the words.”
She paused, seemingly considering his proposal. His lust however, waited for no answer and he grabbed her, turning her around so her back and other features of her body were towards him.
Meekly, perhaps out of exhaustion, she bent her body, holding herself with her arms against the border of the pond. She turned her head, fixing him with a blue stare, filled with tiredness but also desire. “All right,” she said. “You win.... make love to me Geralt.”
He eagerly complied.
Part 2, Triss PoV
Triss woke up, after, she reckoned, the sixth or seventh time she had doused off. She was spent, both mentally and physically. But she didn’t care. The day had been long and productive. Even the long wait in the darkness of the cave, besides the amazing results it yielded, had in itself been productive, as it had afforded her time to sort through several things she had on her mind.
And the ride home, together with the man she loved, with the moonlight as their only company, had been the perfect closing to the events that occurred earlier. Their closeness brought a sense of warmth inside her, both to her body and her weary mind.
Her arms were wrapped tightly but weekly around his chest, in a poor attempt to stay on the saddle as they made their way back to the city of Port Vanis. She had come to realize though, that it had been Geralt, using his left arm to support her during her numerous blackouts, the real reason why she hadn’t fallen yet.
She smiled at that and allowed herself to indulge in some self satisfaction. The very fact that they had ended up together, after all the events that had happened, had defied even her wildest expectations. Many years of disappointments had, in a way, prepared her for the outcome she had been sure would follow when his memories had been fully restored, even if, deep inside, an irrational part of her had dared to hope against all hope that things would turn out differently.
Having been validated, that side of her, which she now recognized as her feelings; feelings she had been ready to kill forever in order to be able to move on, had gone from near death to being in full bloom. That sensation, to love and be loved in return, was, for lack of a better term, beautiful.
And yet, the moments where they could let themselves loose and enjoy had become rare of late. The first months of bliss had been interrupted when news of Emyr’s death had reached the court, ensuing a wave of paranoia.
The lords, the guild, the mages, even Margarita with her newly founded school had sought audience with the king. And, being his advisor, Triss had had to stay at his side as one group after the other voiced their concerns over Radovid setting his sights on this neutral, rich and much smaller kingdom.
She had listened as Tancred had delivered the same speech many times, to all the parties concerned. That his neutrality gave Radovid no reason to attack them in the first place. And that their wealth gave them the means to fight him should the worst happen. Not to mention that Kovir was the only kingdom who could count on fielding mages on his defense.
Triss had to admit that the arguments were indeed strong. Kovir had, in the past, sent Redania packing when they had dared set foot in this land. And that mages, she herself being one of them, could very well turn the tides of battle.
So yes, she had to agree with the king, only a madman would attack them. Problem was, Radovid, by all accounts, had lost it. And there was the annoying little fact that he had managed, even in his insanity, to fight alone and force a stalemate on an empire much stronger than him. With the emperor dead, he had won.
Her mind went to dark places. She considered the idea that Tancred might very well decide that all the mages he had granted asylum were more trouble than they were worth. Their presence was, after all, one of the key reasons why the mad king, who had made the burning of magic users one of the pillars of his reign, would seek to invade Kovir in the first place.
Finally, she had to admit sadly, those who could actually fight and actually make a difference were very few indeed. Besides herself, Margarita and the newly arrived Keira, there weren’t many that were versed enough in combat or powerful enough for it to matter.
There were those she could call. Even with the lodge a sad memory, Phillipa might still answer, but her usual scheming might actually turn the situation even worse. There was, of course, another, perhaps as powerful as the former, who would definitely tip the scales. Yennefer.
Recalling her, perhaps former, friend brought a stab of guilt so strong, it almost felt as if she had been physically hit.
She had chosen not to dwell too much on what her current happiness had cost others, finding solace in thinking she had tried to pull away, not be in the way. And she had believed it, both because the guilt would have consumed her otherwise. And because, it it had been, in a way, the truth.
She had tried it, she had suffered from it. But also, she had to admit, when Geralt had found her in Novigrad, seeking her help and she in turn seeking his, she had put much of a resistance. And though she had said time and again that she was leaving, she knew her attitudes had said otherwise. She had realized that she just couldn’t, wouldn’t, let him go. Never again.
She sighted. Yes, Yennefer would definitely come and help but, was she selfish enough to make her endure the sight of her and Geralt together? She taken enough from her. Caused her enough grief. She wanted to believe she was selfless enough to spare her further sorrow, but she knew, deep down, that if Port Vanis turned into another Novigrad, with pyres all over, she would indeed call for her.
Just the mere thought of having to witness another Novigrad made her both scared and angry beyond reason. She involuntarily tightened her hold on the witcher’s chest.
“You awake Triss?”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Never minded you holding me like that... besides... you did, I reckon, far worse back there in the cave and I assure you, you won’t ever hear me complain about it,” he answered playfully.
She smiled despite her thoughts at that, she couldn’t help it. His voice had the power to always calm her down. That irrational part of her awoke and wished, for the hundredth time, that he had been more insistent, not so accommodating when she had suggested that she would drop everything to be with him on the road.
Because back then, still unaware of all this turmoil, with only her personal ambitions at stake, she would have. That was very clear to her. Yes, she had wanted to be a leader, to be respected and recognized. But to be with him, to actually be with him properly despite the odds, that, she had wanted even more.
Now, however, she wasn’t sure was could actually do it if he suggested it. She wanted to, badly, but so many people depended on her and prospects were grim. She knew, that he would never do it, not now. He would never abandon her, and he would, again, become involved in some fight that wasn’t his because of her.
“Things that bad at court eh?” He said, prompted by her silence.
“Yeah, but don’t worry Geralt. Things will work out in the end, people are just scared now,” she lied, trying not to pass her worries over to him.
“Triss, I might not be that keen in politics, but even I can see things just won’t just fix themselves, not just like that. I’ve seen you return home these last days with that worried look in your face. I just... I just wish there was something I could do to help you.”
“Ohh Geralt... Thank you... And believe me, you are helping me; you have no idea how much.” She meant it. Falling asleep, feeling secure in his embrace was the only thing that gave her comfort, gave her the strength to face the next day full of worries.
“I see,” Geralt said, deciding not to push it further. “Hey, about that spell...”
Thankful for the distraction, she waited a few moments and said said, coyly “What about it?”
“That was... pretty powerful... I didn’t know you could perform magic at that level.”
“Scared I might try it again? You did beat me through your endurance... and I admitted defeat at the end, so...”
He laughed. “Still, for a moment, I felt so helpless.”
“Only helplessness?” she teased him.
“I’ll admit you might have aroused other, mmm, aspects of my being” he replied honestly.
“That was the idea... One of the perks of my position here is having access to the royal library, which in turn means access to Sile’s former stash. You would be surprised at the secrets she had hidden there.”
She was very grateful for the change of subject and decided, in a very unsorcery way, to reveal her secrets. “I never really paralyzed you though. What I did was create an illusion. A binding that severed numbed your connections between your senses and the rest of your body. When I... mmm, climaxed, and you took your hands out of the water to hold me, you were able to see that they were moving, causing the whole thing to collapse on itself.”
The witcher was surprised to hear her explanation and considered her words, a few moments later he said. “So you mean to say that I could move the whole time, only the water and the darkness prevented me from seeing it.”
She knew full well that he had been able to move. And how. Her body remembered fully well the sensations. She had taken great comfort in it. “Correct, that more or less sums it up. So if you ever find yourself in that situation, you know what to do.”
“Of course, I’ll pretend I never heard this and play the victim again.”
She chuckled and had wanted to respond, when a sudden yawn prevented it.
“Easy there Triss, just go back to sleep, I’ll hold you.” He said comfortingly.
“Thanks” She responded and did exactly that, a hint of a smile in her face, her dark thoughts forgotten.
-----
“Here we are.”
She woke up as Roach came to a halt. A quick sweep of her surroundings confirmed his words. They were at the yard of their house in the outskirts of Port Vanis. She let go of her hold on him and Geralt, with the agility of a practiced acrobat, jumped from the saddle and into the ground. As she prepared to do the same, albeit with far less grace, she noticed he had extended his hands towards her.
“Are you going to carry me?” she asked, a little amused.
“It is customary for witchers, especially after defeating such a powerful monster, to take a trophy back with them”
“Am I to be hanged on the wall then?
“More like laying you in my bed.”
“That... I certainly wouldn’t mind that at all.”
She surrendered herself to his grip and felt his hands carefully grab a hold of her body, lifting her from the saddle. Geralt then started walking in the direction of the door, carrying her bridal style.
Triss was indeed happy, whatever came tomorrow, whatever happened, days life these made life worth it. As she was about to succumb to her tiredness for the final time, she noticed the lights in their house were on. The servants could still be about, but still, it was strange and she let Geralt know.
“Strange indeed, but no matter, I’ll put them out once you are tucked away in bed.”
They never locked the door; they had magic charms for that sort of thing, and so Geralt was able to open the front door using his back, with Triss still in his arms.
As they made their way in though, an unexpected sight welcomed them. A huge bald man was sitting in their couch, apparently having helped himself to some of their wine. He looked up as they entered and greeted them.
“Hello, lovebirds”
And the ride home, together with the man she loved, with the moonlight as their only company, had been the perfect closing to the events that occurred earlier. Their closeness brought a sense of warmth inside her, both to her body and her weary mind.
Her arms were wrapped tightly but weekly around his chest, in a poor attempt to stay on the saddle as they made their way back to the city of Port Vanis. She had come to realize though, that it had been Geralt, using his left arm to support her during her numerous blackouts, the real reason why she hadn’t fallen yet.
She smiled at that and allowed herself to indulge in some self satisfaction. The very fact that they had ended up together, after all the events that had happened, had defied even her wildest expectations. Many years of disappointments had, in a way, prepared her for the outcome she had been sure would follow when his memories had been fully restored, even if, deep inside, an irrational part of her had dared to hope against all hope that things would turn out differently.
Having been validated, that side of her, which she now recognized as her feelings; feelings she had been ready to kill forever in order to be able to move on, had gone from near death to being in full bloom. That sensation, to love and be loved in return, was, for lack of a better term, beautiful.
And yet, the moments where they could let themselves loose and enjoy had become rare of late. The first months of bliss had been interrupted when news of Emyr’s death had reached the court, ensuing a wave of paranoia.
The lords, the guild, the mages, even Margarita with her newly founded school had sought audience with the king. And, being his advisor, Triss had had to stay at his side as one group after the other voiced their concerns over Radovid setting his sights on this neutral, rich and much smaller kingdom.
She had listened as Tancred had delivered the same speech many times, to all the parties concerned. That his neutrality gave Radovid no reason to attack them in the first place. And that their wealth gave them the means to fight him should the worst happen. Not to mention that Kovir was the only kingdom who could count on fielding mages on his defense.
Triss had to admit that the arguments were indeed strong. Kovir had, in the past, sent Redania packing when they had dared set foot in this land. And that mages, she herself being one of them, could very well turn the tides of battle.
So yes, she had to agree with the king, only a madman would attack them. Problem was, Radovid, by all accounts, had lost it. And there was the annoying little fact that he had managed, even in his insanity, to fight alone and force a stalemate on an empire much stronger than him. With the emperor dead, he had won.
Her mind went to dark places. She considered the idea that Tancred might very well decide that all the mages he had granted asylum were more trouble than they were worth. Their presence was, after all, one of the key reasons why the mad king, who had made the burning of magic users one of the pillars of his reign, would seek to invade Kovir in the first place.
Finally, she had to admit sadly, those who could actually fight and actually make a difference were very few indeed. Besides herself, Margarita and the newly arrived Keira, there weren’t many that were versed enough in combat or powerful enough for it to matter.
There were those she could call. Even with the lodge a sad memory, Phillipa might still answer, but her usual scheming might actually turn the situation even worse. There was, of course, another, perhaps as powerful as the former, who would definitely tip the scales. Yennefer.
Recalling her, perhaps former, friend brought a stab of guilt so strong, it almost felt as if she had been physically hit.
She had chosen not to dwell too much on what her current happiness had cost others, finding solace in thinking she had tried to pull away, not be in the way. And she had believed it, both because the guilt would have consumed her otherwise. And because, it it had been, in a way, the truth.
She had tried it, she had suffered from it. But also, she had to admit, when Geralt had found her in Novigrad, seeking her help and she in turn seeking his, she had put much of a resistance. And though she had said time and again that she was leaving, she knew her attitudes had said otherwise. She had realized that she just couldn’t, wouldn’t, let him go. Never again.
She sighted. Yes, Yennefer would definitely come and help but, was she selfish enough to make her endure the sight of her and Geralt together? She taken enough from her. Caused her enough grief. She wanted to believe she was selfless enough to spare her further sorrow, but she knew, deep down, that if Port Vanis turned into another Novigrad, with pyres all over, she would indeed call for her.
Just the mere thought of having to witness another Novigrad made her both scared and angry beyond reason. She involuntarily tightened her hold on the witcher’s chest.
“You awake Triss?”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Never minded you holding me like that... besides... you did, I reckon, far worse back there in the cave and I assure you, you won’t ever hear me complain about it,” he answered playfully.
She smiled despite her thoughts at that, she couldn’t help it. His voice had the power to always calm her down. That irrational part of her awoke and wished, for the hundredth time, that he had been more insistent, not so accommodating when she had suggested that she would drop everything to be with him on the road.
Because back then, still unaware of all this turmoil, with only her personal ambitions at stake, she would have. That was very clear to her. Yes, she had wanted to be a leader, to be respected and recognized. But to be with him, to actually be with him properly despite the odds, that, she had wanted even more.
Now, however, she wasn’t sure was could actually do it if he suggested it. She wanted to, badly, but so many people depended on her and prospects were grim. She knew, that he would never do it, not now. He would never abandon her, and he would, again, become involved in some fight that wasn’t his because of her.
“Things that bad at court eh?” He said, prompted by her silence.
“Yeah, but don’t worry Geralt. Things will work out in the end, people are just scared now,” she lied, trying not to pass her worries over to him.
“Triss, I might not be that keen in politics, but even I can see things just won’t just fix themselves, not just like that. I’ve seen you return home these last days with that worried look in your face. I just... I just wish there was something I could do to help you.”
“Ohh Geralt... Thank you... And believe me, you are helping me; you have no idea how much.” She meant it. Falling asleep, feeling secure in his embrace was the only thing that gave her comfort, gave her the strength to face the next day full of worries.
“I see,” Geralt said, deciding not to push it further. “Hey, about that spell...”
Thankful for the distraction, she waited a few moments and said said, coyly “What about it?”
“That was... pretty powerful... I didn’t know you could perform magic at that level.”
“Scared I might try it again? You did beat me through your endurance... and I admitted defeat at the end, so...”
He laughed. “Still, for a moment, I felt so helpless.”
“Only helplessness?” she teased him.
“I’ll admit you might have aroused other, mmm, aspects of my being” he replied honestly.
“That was the idea... One of the perks of my position here is having access to the royal library, which in turn means access to Sile’s former stash. You would be surprised at the secrets she had hidden there.”
She was very grateful for the change of subject and decided, in a very unsorcery way, to reveal her secrets. “I never really paralyzed you though. What I did was create an illusion. A binding that severed numbed your connections between your senses and the rest of your body. When I... mmm, climaxed, and you took your hands out of the water to hold me, you were able to see that they were moving, causing the whole thing to collapse on itself.”
The witcher was surprised to hear her explanation and considered her words, a few moments later he said. “So you mean to say that I could move the whole time, only the water and the darkness prevented me from seeing it.”
She knew full well that he had been able to move. And how. Her body remembered fully well the sensations. She had taken great comfort in it. “Correct, that more or less sums it up. So if you ever find yourself in that situation, you know what to do.”
“Of course, I’ll pretend I never heard this and play the victim again.”
She chuckled and had wanted to respond, when a sudden yawn prevented it.
“Easy there Triss, just go back to sleep, I’ll hold you.” He said comfortingly.
“Thanks” She responded and did exactly that, a hint of a smile in her face, her dark thoughts forgotten.
-----
“Here we are.”
She woke up as Roach came to a halt. A quick sweep of her surroundings confirmed his words. They were at the yard of their house in the outskirts of Port Vanis. She let go of her hold on him and Geralt, with the agility of a practiced acrobat, jumped from the saddle and into the ground. As she prepared to do the same, albeit with far less grace, she noticed he had extended his hands towards her.
“Are you going to carry me?” she asked, a little amused.
“It is customary for witchers, especially after defeating such a powerful monster, to take a trophy back with them”
“Am I to be hanged on the wall then?
“More like laying you in my bed.”
“That... I certainly wouldn’t mind that at all.”
She surrendered herself to his grip and felt his hands carefully grab a hold of her body, lifting her from the saddle. Geralt then started walking in the direction of the door, carrying her bridal style.
Triss was indeed happy, whatever came tomorrow, whatever happened, days life these made life worth it. As she was about to succumb to her tiredness for the final time, she noticed the lights in their house were on. The servants could still be about, but still, it was strange and she let Geralt know.
“Strange indeed, but no matter, I’ll put them out once you are tucked away in bed.”
They never locked the door; they had magic charms for that sort of thing, and so Geralt was able to open the front door using his back, with Triss still in his arms.
As they made their way in though, an unexpected sight welcomed them. A huge bald man was sitting in their couch, apparently having helped himself to some of their wine. He looked up as they entered and greeted them.
“Hello, lovebirds”
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:wub:
There are too many Kovir fanfiction i can't handle them all :lol:
BTW, i havent read all of them yet, dont have much time now. But there is one typo mistake in the end of Triss part. I think it should be
”He looked up as they entered..."
You make me confused for some min, thought "the man" locked the door and plan to do something :lol:
P.S: thank you, hope you will write more
Glad you liked it, and thanks for pointing out the typo, just corrected it...”He looked up as they entered..."
You make me confused for some min, thought "the man" locked the door and plan to do something :lol:
P.S: thank you, hope you will write more
