Triss Fan Art Thread

About the Author: If you are reading this then like me, you are a fan of the Witcherverse. As an avid reader who read Sapkowski books I have always wonder about Geralt and Triss relationship with the hope that they would somehow be together. Without getting into personal reasons, I have always concluded that Geralt and Triss were well suited for each other hence my dream to see them united at some point. CD Projekt Red made that dream a reality by developing a beautiful relationship between both characters in the Witcher Series ending with their departure to Kovir.

After the release of the Witcher III, it was apparent that CDPR had somehow strayed from the character development they had set out to create. After playing the Wild Hunt in its original form, I decide to take my ideas to paper. After many trials, feedback and assistance from fellow Witcher and Triss fans, my work is below.
This quote is for all the Triss lovers in the house:

“There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.” Sarah Dessen

Special Thanks: @Alexey25 @Anthonior @FarrySquall @Onakita



This Chapter is Long But You Will Not Be Disappointed

I am having trouble formatting, so I am posting the google doc link instead.

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Oh boy - I am sorry for taking forever with this, here goes one long post:

Part 1:
It was dark, Interminably dark - Had the Witcher not consumed a full vial of ‘Cat’ before entering the cave, no amount of controlled pupil dilation would have helped the Witcher; even though his vision was many times better than an average man's, he also knew despite his Witcher’s concoction the darkness would only hinder his ability to pick out his foe among the darkness.
He carefully tapped out each step with the toe of his boots, as to assess it for anomalies that may cause his undoing, a pitfall or other form of boobytrap, he knew his enemy was cunning.
He heard the sound of a stone hitting the floor deep in the creature's lair, it was on the prowl tonight.

He’d been pursuing this particular adversary for some time now, two weeks to be exact, and Geralt was not about to let this one go; not after inspecting its victims; shredded and drained of blood, there had been seven to date, all of them young women, often from the middle classes; daughters of shop owners, one daughter of the local guards captain, and the daughter of a popular tavern’s owner; who had been the one to place this contract on the noticeboard in the centre of Pont Vanis’ main square, Geralt had wanted to stay sharp, his time in Kovir to date had been too cosy for him.. He had to work.

Geralt crept through the impenetrable darkness, his silver sword as sharp as a razor, held back in a ready position, as not to give away his position on corners, and so it was prepared to strike at a moments notice.. The moment was nearly at hand.

It was then he spotted it, the Katakan, eight foot tall and Bat-like; It’s back to the Witcher, easy. Geralt was no peasant seeking revenge armed with naught but a pitchfork.. He was a Witcher his sword was forged from matter collected from crashed meteors, he was a professional monster slayer, no, this was too easy.

‘Welcome Witcher - I was wondering how long it’d take you to find my little home, you enjoyed the trail I presume? I sure did.’ The creature snarled, still not turning his back away from the Witcher.

‘No, Mr Rojek.. But I have come to avenge them, and take your head to their families as confirmation that someone had rid the world of one more monstrosity.’ Geralt raised his sword into a guard position.

‘I see’ acknowledged the Vampire, turning to face Geralt at last. ‘It’s been a long time since I was hunted by a Witcher. He wasn’t as good at tracking, can I assume you fight better than he too?’

The Witcher didn’t reply, he simply adjusted the grip on his Silver swords pommel, and slowly began circling the Katakan, in a spiral.

‘Let us begin then.’ the Vampire declared.

Rojek was fast, very fast.
He charged, seemingly headlong at the Witcher, however the Witcher was ready with his sword brandished perfectly, awaiting the charge, and the Vampire knew it.
But Geralt’s swipe wasn’t designed to hit, simply to displace, to halt the Katakan and keep it’s claws out of range.
Reach was the advantage he had, they both stopped and began circling each other.

Geralt changed his direction and stance, to try and throw the Katakan off, the creature was unlikely to fall for it, and didn’t.
They simply began again, in reverse, he saw the creature twitch oddly, now was the time to strike, Geralt threw a masterful feigned strike towards the creatures face which, with some careful direction, was changed into a low swipe, the Katakan jumped it and countered with a flurry of claws, Geralt spun to avoid it, and slashed again, hitting the monster in the back of his right leg, it bawled in pain as the Silver blade cut into its flesh - straight to bone - Geralt then spun in a reverse spin, back to back with the creature, drawing and slashing with a Silver dagger, a gift from Triss, the Vampire leapt forwards onto its stronger, left leg, and spun to face the Witcher once more.

This time he didn’t circle, Rojek went straight in for another attack, this caught the Witcher by surprise, he was still very fast, the creature tackled the Witcher and charged against the wall of the cave, slamming Geralt against it with a crack, the Witchers grip on his Silver sword weakened, and gave way, he dropped it to the ground, clang.
The monster then raised Geralt against the wall and dug the claws of his left hand into the Witchers right shoulder, Geralt winced in pain, the Vampire raised his other hand to prepare a strike, the strike never hit.
The Witcher plunged the Silver dagger, still brandished in his left hand despite the ferocity of the tackle, deep into the Katakan’s exposed face, Rojek dropped the Witcher and fumbled around his monstrous visage for the source of the excruciating pain which emanated from the dagger’s Silver composition.

Geralt wheezed as he hit the floor, but this was no time to lay down, he quickly scrambled to his feet, clasped his left hand around the pommel of the Silver sword he had dropped, spun and cut the Vampire’s belly, clean open, it fell to its knees one hand at his face, one at his now spilling stomach, the Witcher spun around to the creatures right hand side and sliced again, it wasn’t a strong hit, but was enough to sever the Katakan’s spinal cord, it toppled over forwards with a thud simultaneously Geralt dropped to his knees and wheezed once more.

He chuckled to himself.

‘Still got it Geralt’

‘Still got it..’


‘Geralt?’ sounded a soft but authoritative voice.

The Witcher’s eyes slowly peeled open, it was Triss, they were back in their home in Pont Vanis.
He was lying in the bed, buried in a casket of blankets and quilts, it was late in the year now, soon they’d have to move into their winter home in Lan Exeter.
Geralt tried to sit up, an intense pain from his right shoulder exploded, he winced and collapsed back into the endless layers of sheets.

‘Ah, don’t strain yourself, those were pretty deep.. What was it?’

‘Ka-Katakan’ he said with a grimace.

‘Look what he did to you!’ Triss replied, pressing her hand down on the Witcher’s chest, through the blankets - Softness

He looked up at her; her long Auburn hair worn loose onto her shoulders, wearing her nightclothes, still, however the open window behind her betrayed the midday sun falling upon the cities rooftop canopy, she had clearly not left the house today, the smell of fresh Strawberries drifting through the air, her cornflower blue eyes fixed on him a sense of pure fear imprinted deep within them.

The Witcher cracked a smile through his parched lips.

‘You should see him now’

The look of fear now replace with a stern disappointment.

‘Promise me you’ll be more careful next time, you’ll need to rest for a while, but you should be able to move it again soon, until then, just relax, with me.’

She peeled back the layers which he was hiding amongst and nestled herself along his left hand side, cuddling close the the injured Witcher’s chest, he then noticed the bags under her eyes, she had clearly not slept that night, she quickly gave him a peck to the cheek, he wrapped his left arm around her tightly and then they both receded into a deep, warm, slumber.

Part 2:

She awoke shortly before dawn, still in the full embrace of the Witcher who was gently, almost unnoticeably, breathing beside her.
She pushed off from the bed, trying her best not to wake the sleeping Wolf, slipping from the bed onto the cold tiles of the floor with reluctance, she winced at the touch of the icey ceramic and tried her best to rouse herself from the bed quietly, after all Witchers hearing was very sensitive.. she appeared to have done just that when, from amongst the nest of sheets came a laboured grunt:

‘Hmm. Leaving so soon?’

The Sorceress signed and turned on a heel and placed a hand on her hip, looking the now upright Geralt straight in his cat-like eyes.
Her feet were cold.
She strode towards the bed and, in swift, feline movement crawled back into the bed and sat behind the Witcher’s scarred back, wrapping her legs around his hips in order to stop any squirming that might ensue, she reached to the right of the bed and grabbed her surgery kit, the very same one she had used to dress the wounds the previous day, and lay it on the bed off to her left, she then proceeded to unravel the bandaged shoulder of the Witcher, he flinched as the last of the linen left Geralt’s tender shoulder, with much resistance from the dried blood which had made its home between the bandage and his skin, she hushed him with a slanted embrace, as not to press herself upon the wound, it worked.

They stayed as they were for a short while, before removing a fresh bandage from the bad and wrapping it carefully around the Witchers shoulder and afterwards, when Triss left the bed for the second time, he didn’t protest, she wrapped herself in a silk shawl and left the room.

Geralt sat up, swung himself from the sheets and ran his left hand through his hair, to say it wasn’t clean was an understatement, he sighed and looked around the room, they had been housed very close to Tankred’s keep, on the hill high above the city's main streets, known as the ‘Golden Road’ as many of the city’s top banks, libraries and merchants guilds were based along this part of the city - The house itself had once belonged to a debting merchant, who had lost much more than his profits in the end.
He could now see the sun rising over the city wall, time to move.
He wandered across the room, finding any clothes he could, he had no plans to leave the house today, after all, he was on the Sorceress’ orders to relax.

After finding a shirt and a pair of ripped, but rather comfortable, trousers he pulled them on and then proceeded to meander through the halls of their luxurious lodgings.

Then he heard the splashing of water.

Geralt traipsed through the hallways as quietly as he could, until he reached the source of the noises.

‘Took your time’
Came Triss’ warm voice from the next room.

Geralt gently swung the door open, Triss was reclining in the marble bath, her back to the Witcher, he entered.
She beckoned him over with the back of her hand, turning slightly, and smiling.
Geralt was overcome by excitement, he quickly tore at his clothing, firstly with his left hand and then his right, however as he raised his right the wound overcame him, he doubled over in pain, whimpering.
Triss shot up from the water at the sound of his pain, exposing her figure.
Geralt let a pained smile take over his face, Triss stepped out of the bath and quickly wrapped herself in a towel, she paced quickly to Geralt and assisted him with the loosening of the shirt which had caused him the pain, she threw it carelessly across the room, and helped him with the remainder of his garments, and then set about guiding the wounded Wolf to the bath.
Geralt sunk into the steamy depths with relief, his pain nullified by the herb-infused bath.
Triss took up a jug which lay beside the pair and washed his hair and back before removing the towel and climbing in behind him, the Witcher turned to face her, she smiled and moved close the the Witcher they embraced each other once again, and passionately kissed, steam continued to rise from the rose petal-covered water, they were done bathing.


Triss hurriedly gathered her clothes from the floor, climbing into them as she went, lastly pulling on her suede boots on she sprung towards the door.

‘Late...’ she gasped.

‘Late again M’lady Merigold’ Announced the chamberlin, Gregory Bernard, in his usual astute manner.
‘The Witcher I presume?’

‘None of your business Chamberlin - I assume the King has already summoned me?’ Retorted Triss

‘Indeed, he is taking the air of the garden this fine morning - I’ll escort you’

It had been over 5 months since Geralt and herself had arrived in Pont Vanis, they both knew where the gardens were, as King Tankred enjoyed much of his time there, avoiding the court as much as he could - Which could only mean that Bernard was about to start another rant about matters which most definitely did not concern him.

The Chamberlin cleared his throat - ‘His majesty and myself worry that you spend too much time tending to that Witcher of yours, surely mutants-’

She cut him off with a sharp glare.

‘Geralt may be a mutant, Chamberlin, but he works to save the peoples surrounding this city out of pure generosity, selflessly, the city prospers having a resident Witcher, those who do not have the safety of the walls suffer enough from the elements, when monsters are added on top of that life is even harder, and they’d not be able to afford the service of a Witcher otherwise.’

‘And I am sure the people of the countryside sing his praises from dawn til dusk, but the place for the Mage adviser to the King, is beside the king..’

‘My place, As I explained many a time, is wherever I need to be, I know very well that Tankred understands that. I am yet to learn of your objections however Chamberlin, enlighten me, if you would?’

The pale, skinny, man brushed back his graying black hair and fixed the Sorceress with a glare, they stopped and faced one another.

‘As you know, tensions with Redania have always been an issue for the King; we were able to drive them away before, but now, with the young Redanian King’s victory and conquest of many of the Kingdoms he has the manpower again to threaten us.. And now we have become a sanctuary for Radovid’s sworn enemies… you, and your kind - Every Illusionist, Conjurer and Alchemist you save from his clutches brings us closer to war..’

Triss stared him in the eye - her deep blue eyes emanating a deep contempt for the aging man, she took a deep breath and prepared her counterattack in her mind.
her chain of thought was cut off by the slamming of the nearby gate to the main courtyard, Tankred stood in the threshold, a pair of Halberdiers at his back.

‘Aha! Lady Merigold, Bernard, I was wondering where the pair of you had run off to’ the young King announced in an authoritative voice, feigning surprise ‘I would have assumed you’d have reached the gardens by now. I was worried’

The Sorceress and the Chamberlin curtseyed and bowed appropriately.

‘Come Lady Merigold, we have much to discuss, thank you Chamberlin, you may leave us.’

With that, the King turned his back and began walking, Triss in tow.

Geralt wiped the bead of sweat which had descended from his brow to his cheek, he needed to concentrate, the time was nearly at hand.

The door glided open, its well oiled hinges muffling any sound which would have been erupted, Geralt was too busy, captivated, by the egg gliding across the pan’s surface, he’d not break another..
A pair of velvety soft hands took him at the hips, the smell of strawberries entering the mix of bacon and egg, an odd combination, he twitched in surprise, the yolk of the egg shook and burst, drying almost instantly to the white and pan, he sighed and moved the pan away from the heat.
The soft arms enveloped him.

‘Almost had it that time..’

She spun the Witcher by his hips,looked deep into his eyes and smiled.
They laughed, Triss raised a finger to his lips, and then removed it, replacing it with her lips.
She took him by the hand and made for the door, she wasn’t hungry anyway.

Part 3:


She awoke the next morning, refreshed, pushing herself up from the bed.
Her clothes were strewn across the floor, as they had fell the previous night in the tornado of passion that thundered through the extravagant room, after locating and slipping back into her nightdress, she let out a satisfied sighed.
Looking back at the mass of sheets, somewhere in which resided the Witcher, just in time to catch a pale foot, tangled in undergarments, emerged from the lower end of the collection of blankets, she smiled widely and raised her fingers to her lips, suppressing the laughter which would have otherwise erupted.

She swiftly plucked her shawl from the trunk at the base of the bed, swung it over herself and let its silk material swathe over her skin she let out an audible purr and stretched with slow, controlled, breaths and then proceeded to make for the door.

‘A quiet day..’ she whispered to herself as she thought hard about what food to prepare for the pair of them, however she would have to cancel her plans however as just before she was able to leave the room there was a mighty crash from downstairs and muffled voices, one quite clearly upset at the other.

Geralt, behind her, was instantly upright when the noise occurred and was quickly beside Triss pulling on a pair of trousers he had swiped from one of the bedposts, they left the room together, sliding gently through the halls of the house, making sure not to alert the still arguing voices to their presence, the pair of intruders were in the kitchen, loudly arguing;

‘You’re doing it wrong!’ sounded a woman's voice with a concerned tone ‘Here let me’

‘Not a bit of it!’ came a second voice - contradicting the first voice, his voice resolute.

The voices were familiar, too familiar, Triss and Geralt approached the door of the kitchen, it was agape, they arranged themselves carefully, Geralt prepared himself to press on the door, Triss readied herself for a tussle, it wasn’t the first time they’d had chased off unwanted guests, however that was done much more subtly than they were planning to do - ridding themselves of officials which came to bother the King's adviser about matters which they didn’t need to know about through playing ignorant and trying to steer conversation away until they submitted and left in a huff.

Geralt began to press on the door, it swayed open and on the other side of the threshold stood a man and a woman, in a heated debate over the quality of the man's ability to properly pluck the lifeless pheasant which lay sprawled across the counter amidst a pile of its own feathers, the pair had clearly not been long off of their horses, their muddy riding boots still adorned their feet, and the path they’d left across the floor was an indication of a chase, no doubt over the now almost bare bird.
The pair were not too much apart in height, the man standing only a few centimeters taller, although that was deceived by the large bonnet he wore which was adorned, incidentally, with a long, curved, Pheasants feather, the woman wore her long, ashen, hair down and to the opposite side of her face, away from the Sorceress and Witcher, now intently watching them, leaning in the doorframe together and smiling, Geralt’s hand at Triss’ hip. They were definitely of no threat.

‘By the Gods!’ the man exclaimed ‘Geralt, Triss. How long have you been there?’

The Ashen haired woman instantly turned to them on her heels, in a flash, smiling.

‘Dandelion, Ciri. What’re you doing here?’ Geralt questioned, playfully.

‘Why, visiting an old friend who had seemingly disappeared from the face of the world!’ replied Dandelion in a huff.

They looked at one another for a second, and both burst into concurrent laughter, Ciri, who had been wordlessly beaming at the pair in the doorway with her emerald gaze abruptly sprung forwards, arms outstretched, Geralt and Triss adjusted to accept the embrace, Ciri hung from Geralt’s shoulders as he returned the strong grasp around her slim waist.

‘It’s good to see you again’ She whispered in his ear.

‘Likewise’ mumbled the Witcher.

‘Triss!’ She called out, removing her hands from the Witcher and throwing them around the Sorceress, they in turn exchanged some hushed words, Geralt didn’t care to pry.

Geralt and the Troubadour exchanged another friendly glance.

‘Care for a drink Dandelion?’

‘Of course.’

Ciri crept through the undergrowth, following the trail of Ravens that could be seen, massing above the forest, cawing loudly, she had to be quiet, her quarry was a dangerous one, many people from the neighbouring village had met untimely ends in this forest, the so called spirit had to be dispatched, and the village was luckily enough right along the roads to Kovir, where Ciri was planning to visit an old friend, as they couldn’t pay, she accepted the contract on the condition that the villagers restocked her saddlebags with provisions and fit new horseshoes onto Kelpie, who desperately needed them, a price the villagers were more than willing to accept for the safety to hunt once again.

She continued her silent prowl, the young Witcheress had dealt with creatures of this kind before, however not without the assistance of her tutor, Geralt of Rivia, but she was more than confident in her abilities, after all, she was the Witcheress now.
At the centre of the Raven storm was a totem, constructed of various bones and thick sticks, mounted on top was the skull of a stag. Its antlers adorned with flowers and vines. She kicked it over with little effort, as it toppled over a roar echoed through the forest, Ciri instinctively drew Zirael - Her Silver sword, reached into her hip pouch and pulled out a cylindrical container with a piece of cloth protruding from the top and placed it in one of her crossbelts holding rings, and then reached again, pulling out a small bomb, a Dimeritium bomb to be exact, a very potent weapon against magical creatures. She then, using her index and middle fingers, drew out a striking pad, especially designed to fit within the pommel of Zirael, and set it in place with a click. She was ready.

She didn’t have to wait long, the approaching creature didn’t need to disguise its approach, it was on its home turf, ready to face the invader, it appeared in front of Ciri amidst a odd black fog, upon materialising a few Ravens swooped down and nestled upon the creatures antlers which sat upon the stag’s skull which sat adorned the creature's head, as it had the totem, it stood in the centre of the glade, staring at the Witcheress without moving an inch, Ciri raised Zirael into a singled handed ready position ahead of her, pointing towards the creatures Cervidae adorned head and leant back in a balanced position.

Neither moved for some time, Ciri noticed the wolf approaching from her rear long before it reached her, it reared back and leapt forwards in a soundless attack towards the Witcheress’ back, she sidestepped it effortlessly and, pivoting on the ball of her left foot gave it a hefty kick in the ribs as it passed with her right boot, sending the wolf into the nearby tree, in a simultaneous movement she brought the fuse for the Dimeritium bomb down heavily onto the striking pad on Zirael’s pommel, instantly lighting it, and spinning in a pirouette, as to avoid an incoming raven, and threw it directly at the Leshen, its short fuse stopping the Leshen from being able to teleport away in time, as Geralt had showed her, it was the perfect length to explode directly in front of the creature, dazing and slowing the creature, she quickly closed in on the monster and slashed heavily at its arm, damaging it severely and then gracefully backstepping a root which shot up from beneath her position, she doubled back and prepared herself again.
The wolf returned from the bushes, Ciri dropped to one knee and pulled a dagger from her boot, she spun on the spot from her knees and onto her feet, slashing across the wolf's ribs as it pounced, and it fell down next to the Witcheress, spurting blood.
By this time the Leshen recovered from the shock of the bomb and teleported to the opposite side of the glade, and readied itself again, Ciri advanced at a run, the monster dug its unmutilated, right, arm into the ground and a root shot up from the earth towards Ciri’s face, she skidded on her knees and slash upwards, completely severing it from the rest of the root in a single swipe, she then bounced back onto her feet and cleaved the Leshen’s right arm clean off at the elbow before digging her heels into the ground, pulling the cylinder from her crossbelt and lighting the cloth at the striking pad, using a ring on her finger, the cloth burst into a blue flame and the Witcheress threw it at the Leshens exposed back, upon contact the container burst and the contents spilled over the monsters back in a fiery blossom, it writhed in pain, the Witcheress swiftly spun once more and dug Zirael deep into the monster's spine, it screamed and the fire which was engulfing it was instantly extinguished by a cascade of roots which consumed the monster as it died, Ciri removed her sword from the monsters back before it too was devoured by the root like vines, and then proceeded to watch as the Leshen expired before her.

‘When I returned the head to the Ealdorman he could barely believe his eyes.
But they kept their word and met all my requests, they even fed me and let me have a straw bed for the night - the following morning, well before any of them were up, I set off, destination - here.’ Ciri proceeded to bite aggressively at a bread roll.

‘Well I say, Geralt, she definitely takes after you, ballad material aplenty.’ Dandelion said appreciatively, he strummed gently as he lute and began mumbling, trying desperately to think of a couplet for ‘Leshen’, he was visibly struggling.

‘Good.’ Said Geralt firmly ‘You’ve got someone new to save you when you get yourself in trouble it seems.’

‘Err.. Indeed’ replied the Bard who was clearly too preoccupied with the endeavour, he would go on to call the ‘Witcheress and the Irate Woods’, to give the Witcher’s biting wit any acknowledgement, the others laughed.

The night went on, and there was much merriment and laughter, it was the first time anyone had visited their home in Kovir since the battle in Skellige against the hunt, and so it was very much welcome both to the Witcher and the Sorceress.

‘How is Prescilla Dandelion? I have to say, I am surprised to see you here without her too.’ Geralt inquired after a time, he hadn’t heard from her since he left them in the hospital in Novigrad.

‘She is well, we have been invited up here to perform at a ball, she insisted, I didn’t want to leave the Chameleon to be frank, but…’

Geralt but Dandelion off and laughed ‘She certainly is special then Dandelion, if she can drag you all the way up here against your will.’

The troubadour removed his bonnet coyly.

Triss urged that the bard come have a walk around the city with her, at first he didn’t understand, but was soon enlightened by the Sorceress who wanted the Witchers to have some time, alone.

Ciri and Geralt sat at the cluttered table, picking at the remains of the Pheasant, continuing to smile at one another, but for a while, there were no words to be said… after a long silence Geralt came out with the question he’d been stifling away at the back of his mouth the entire morning.

‘Any news of Yen?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘We met for a short time in Lyria, she seemed to be fine, she’s still.. angered.’

‘Trust me, Ciri, she’s been more angry. But I am happy she is safe.’

The pair of them again sunk into silence, nothing more needed to be said.

Part 4:


The Sorceress and the Troubadour slid through the crowded streets with little effort, after all, the bard was indeed the world renowned Dandelion and she, the King's advisor, Triss Merigold, the people on the street didn’t know what action to perform upon sighting them, some stood aside quickly, others bowed astutely and others simply gawked and stood awkwardly on the spot. Dandelion was quite pleased with the reception, after so long on the road he had almost forgotten the sensation of being admired, almost. Triss on the other hand wasn’t too keen on the stares and bows, she normally walked among the people in some form of disguise when with Geralt, and then the peasantry would be offering the Witcher praise, something he didn’t expect upon his settling in the capital, but he found it reassuring that his choice to stay had not brought discomfort to the people as it would elsewhere - The people of Kovir treated magic users with the utmost respect, even Witchers.

The pair of them picked an apple for themselves from a nearby stall, Triss almost had to force the vendor to take the coin for the fruit, the bard on the other hand didn’t hesitate to continue on, when Triss had caught up with him the Bard was as white as death.

‘Dandelion?’ boomed a woman's voice from the crowd.

‘Shit, Triss, she’s found me!’

The Sorceress chuckled and set eyes on the furious woman, she was clearly of high stature, although Triss didn’t recognise her, she had her long black hair plaited and slung over her shoulder carelessly, her skin ablaze with fury and her wild, jade green, eyes were full of contempt. Clearly not seeing the company that the Troubador was in, she cut through the crowd before them.

‘Paloma? my dear Paloma.. Great to see you once..’ the Bard was cut off by the angered woman’s hand, but what she delivered to the Troubadour was not a slap but a full, closed fisted, punch to the cheek Dandelion doubled back and clutched his face in his hands.

‘And who is this?’ She bellowed setting her eyes upon Triss, her anger subsided instantly and her expression switched to plain fear, she curtsied gracefully ‘Lady Merigold, I didn’t know it was you.’
she remained with her eyes looking low, blushing all the while, after a moment of silence Triss let slip a giggle. The Sorceress and the woman caught eyes, and laughed in unison, the poet looked on in awe as Paloma threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek before slipping back into the crowd. The Bard stood for a while, dazed.


They returned fairly late, Dandelion had demanded a full tour of the city, and the tour had been seldom interrupted since the incident in the square. Upon their entrance they saw the Witchers asleep next to one another in the pair of armchairs which sat before the fireplace, Triss quickly guided the Troubador to his room before returning to the lounge and laying a blanket on each of the Witchers before heading to bed herself.

‘Triss… Triss’ gently emanated a voice from beyond the Sorceress’ sealed eyelids, she recognised it instantly.


‘Yes Triss, Tankred has summoned you.. And me.’

The Sorceress jolted up from the sheets, stretching high, Geralt could see every curve of her body through her nightdress, drawn taut underneath her, Geralt, sat beside her, playfully stroked her chestnut hair which was disheveled from her tossing about in bed. Geralt knew all too well she still suffered from nightmares of her experience on Sodden Hill, most nights he was able to calm her with his presence but on occasion the nightmarish memories were too intense for her to calm down and so he would lay awake and make sure she didn’t harm herself.
She never recalled the episodes come the morning.

She looked him directly in the eyes, her cornflower blue gaze penetrating him, she touched his stubble covered cheek and touched her forehead to his they looked each other in the eyes and a smile edged onto her face and followed up with a passionate kiss, cradling the Witcher’s chin with a delicate hand they remained, lips as one for a time, she released his chin and backed away, smiling once again.

‘Let's get ready to go’ she said resolutely ‘wouldn’t want to keep the King waiting.’

Once the pair had dressed and descended they saw a young, fair haired, page awaiting them in the main hallway, upon seeing them he removed his beret baring a long feather and made a well practiced, honourable bow to the pair, low and smoothly.

‘Mistress Merigold, Master Geralt; King Tankred Thyssen invites you to attend an audience, if you would follow me I will take you to him, he is currently not within the confines of the city.’

Tankred was lying beneath a Willow tree by a small pond, bearing no crown and wearing modest travelling clothes any passer by would have mistaken him for a Merchant's son, had it not been for the Bernard and the four knights in full plate, bearing the royal guard badges, which accompanied the young man.
Upon seeing the approaching pair he raised himself to his feet swiftly and brushed himself down, Triss closed the distance and curtsied respectfully, Geralt bowed clumsily, but Tankred had quickly learn’t to accept this gesture as the equivalent to the Sorceress’, Witcher’s bowed to few.

‘Come my friends, no need to dabble in formality’ the King left the circle of bodies which surrounded him and embraced the pair, an action he had never performed in front of the pair within the castle.

‘May I ask why exactly you brought us here? your majesty’ said Geralt calmly.

‘Do I need a reason to summon my friends? - Ah, Witcher, you’re too sharp for me, it shall be winter soon, we will be setting out for Lan Exeter I would be honoured if the pair of you would travel with the royal convoy.’

‘It would be our honour, sire’ replied Triss quickly.

‘Excellent, it is settled then, we leave the coming week.’ Said Tankred authoritively ‘Oh, and one more thing, upon arrival we should be expecting a royal envoy from Radovid, I would like both of you to be present at the meeting, I believe you will find it.. Intriguing.’

Hope you like it! - It's more of a connecting part, as the next parts will have lots of conflict and politics, hope it isn't a disappointment.

Remind me never to do an all nighter writing again... It's super tiring..

Trying to fix my sleep pattern, need to be awake for another 10 hours or so... Woooooo.
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Hey, guys, who knows: are there any mods, that changes Triss's eyes from green into blue in TW2? ???

I found only hair mods

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