Chapter Text
Geralt had contacted several of his closest friends and family to the Rosemary and Thyme, now named the Chameleon. They are able to close it for private parties and get-togethers. Which was probably better to host it here since Kaer Morhen wasn’t the best place with all those memories and such and the much-needed repairs, leaving that out of the question. Dandelion had suggested this party because him and Pricilla had a big show they wanted to share. Dandelion wanted it to be a small show first for their friends to get some feedback.
Geralt had brought Regis with him, that being his lover for the past five years. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Triss and Yen were not going to be here. He does love them dearly, but not by any means close to what he feels for Regis. The vampire was more of a home to him than anyone else. Even Kaer Morhen.
Zolten, Shani, Ves, Lambert, and a few others that were friends of friends had come to attend. Lambert stated that Eskel would be late due to a contract that was urgent, high chances of actually missing the performance however, he’ll still show up regardless of that.
Drinks were being passed around. Gentle laughter resounded and cheery music played from Dandelion’s lute. Geralt had already informed a select few about Regis being a vampire and his lover. Better to keep some out of the loop. A smile formed on his lips whenever Regis smiled a real smile with teeth showing directed at him alone, never with others present. He loves him so much.
Everyone here was settled in and enjoying each other’s company. It was rather refreshing to him to see this. Most of the time someone had fought, or someone bursting in with some complaint about a monster and he’d have to leave to tend to it. That could very much still happen. Or Regis would have a new patient and be absent from the conversations.
What bothered him, however, was what Regis spoke to him about earlier that day. That… He had invited Dettlaff to this as well. Hoping to socialize him more. Geralt had threatened him that he’ll kill him the next time he saw the taller vampire. The man was a threat to people, to his friends and probably to Regis as well he dare say. From what Regis said, vampires need to be kept in check by other vampires, so that means that should something happen… Geralt could very well lose Regis forever if a fight between them turned serious. Fuck, maybe the whole of Novigrad.
It made him nervous, a type that spikes adrenaline in his veins to protect his family. Regis said that Dettlaff might not show, given his dislike of humans and he’d prefer to keep to lesser vampires. He hoped that he wouldn’t come.
With a tankard in hand, Geralt took a few swigs. Regis smiling and chatting away like he does about herbs and such to Shani. The two got along rather nicely. Both healers, that helps. It made something in him warm seeing Regis talk and having someone able to argue over herbs. Since most of the time, Geralt knows potion ingredients, not things to aid humans. Though, by now he'd be lying if he said he didn’t learn a thing or two from years with Regis. Regis tensed up a little, looking to Geralt with a hand gripping his satchel strap.
In a soft whisper, “He’s here.”
“…” Geralt couldn’t help the anxiety. Should Dettlaff overreact to anything and bust out his claws, at least there's two Witcher’s and a vampire here to stop him, but that didn’t mean someone couldn’t get killed in the crossfire.
The taller vampire, slicked back inky black hair with a few strands of grey on both sides of his temples stood by the door, only the creaking of said door alerted anyone of his presence. Even Geralt was surprised that Regis was able to tell before the door opened. Vampires have no heartbeats or very slow hardly noticeable ones. No need to breathe, basically making them invisible to Witcher senses. Even more so to humans with how silently they move. The only thing that might be useful was the vampire’s scent. Geralt was able to tell when Regis was around before he appeared in his line of sight purely because of the herbal scents clinging to him. But Dettlaff’s scent was much softer and harder to notice in comparison.
The dark clad figure walked by the long table, his hand brushing against Geralt’s shoulders, in a low voice rough like gravel, “Geralt. How interesting that you should make false upon your threat. All bark, no bite?”
“For Regis, I won’t. Just need you to restrain yourself. Hurt anyone here and I’ll make sure you die a painful death.” He whispered it enough that only Lambert and Regis could hear with their enhanced hearing.
Dettlaff smirked, “Of course. No one here, other than you and… Well, has done me no harm. I'm sure I can manage.” He took a seat next to Regis who was smiling at him.
“So good of you to show up.”
Pale blue eyes lingered on Regis, “As a bonded pack, I would like to take your words into consideration.”
“As do I. I understand how it would have affected you over those events. I'm simply pleased that you have come to rethink the things I've said.”
“Let us not speak of that. I rather not.”
Regis nodded and offered a drink, “That’s quite alright. Care for some Zerrakanian ale?”
Dettlaff accepted the tankard passed to him. Making a sour expression upon the taste. There was some tension in the air. Geralt glared over Regis’ shoulder at the younger looking vampire. He did the same to Geralt. Sharp pale eyes searching Geralt’s face for aggression.
Regis awkwardly laughed, “Zolten! I do recall you telling a tale about your travels within Mahakam. Do tell. I’d be intrigued to listen from your side of things. I’ve only ever heard of the story from Geralt’s perspective.”
The dwarf scratched the back of his head, unsure of how to go about with whatever was happening, he was one that knew of the vampire, that being Regis, “Oh, o‘course.” He began to go into explaining about something or other. Geralt heard the story already, yet his weariness of this vampire couldn’t fade that fast. Not after the last meeting. Hundreds of innocents killed over a woman.
Regis was rubbing Geralt’s arm, “Come on. Relax a little. He won’t relax unless you do so first.” He whispered, even if Dettlaff could still hear them.
“Ugh, fine.” He gave in too easily to Regis. He complied and moved his gaze to the others, shoulders hiked up.
Regis smiled, warm eyes on him, “Thank you, my dear.”
Even with eyes straying away from Dettlaff, Geralt could still feel the piercing gaze of the winter eyes that could kill in a single second. His instincts told him to grab his sword. To watch the threat like a forktail circles the skies. To separate him from his friends. Yet he did none of that. Sitting with tense shoulders and creased brows. The gentle touch of Regis was the only thing helping him calm down and attempt to put his mind at ease of that hostile darkness that radiates from Dettlaff.
No one else might know that this is Dettlaff, a higher vampire. A killer. Lambert seemed intent on watching the vampire as well, though did he know this was Dettlaff from his retelling of events? His medallion wouldn’t vibrate with the arrival of Dettlaff. But Geralt’s reactions might've tipped him off about something strange that had to do with the darkly dressed vampire.
The moment he felt Dettlaff’s eyes drift away from him, Lambert seemed to flinch for a second before holding the icy glare he knew Dettlaff was giving him. Of course he’d be weary of another Witcher. Geralt took a long swig from his ale. Feeling the warmth of it down his throat. Letting the alcohol attempt to ease him a little.
Regis was quick to reengage with Shani about herbal teas and how some more than others have more medicinal benefits. It seemed Dettlaff finished his staring battle with Lambert to observe Shani and Regis’ conversation. It took longer than Geralt would've liked, but everyone had slowly settled back in with a low hum of chatter at both ends of the table.
Dettlaff was being very quiet, the opposite of Regis. However, Geralt looked to the vampire, “You’re not drinking?”
“No. This is below the quality I could enjoy.”
“Humph. Guess you’re sensitive as usual. Thought Regis was working you in.”
Dettlaff sharply stared into golden cats’ eyes, “What does that mean? Has your submissiveness towards Regis suddenly changed? You listen to him and do everything he asks of you without question.”
Geralt grit his teeth, “You’re like a child in man’s body. Erratic and unknowing. Rather stay hidden away than chance another betrayal.”
“Unknowing? I dare say your animalistic behavior of your mutagens are acting up. Do you sense me as a threat that you’re showing me this hostility? Have you not been betrayed by anyone in your life time?” Dettlaff was able to keep a low tone, not yelling, very similar to the tone Regis often uses.
Geralt rose from his seat, reaching for his silver, yet a hand gripped his, “Breathe, my dear.” A hand was also on Dettlaff’s shoulder, holding him in his seat.
He looked down to obsidian eyes, “Hmm.” Sinking back into his seat.
“See.” Dettlaff muttered.
“Childish.”
Lambert was the one to break some of the tension by bursting out laughing. Ves clanked mugs with him and laughed along, “Drink to clashes!”
Lambert shouted, “Drink to insulting Geralt! I’d drink to that any day!” The two clanked the metal mugs again and drink long swigs. That set off the others back into an even chatter down the table. Pricilla had tested out playing a lyre to sync up with Dandelion's lute.
Once things calmed down enough to try to attempt conversation once more around Geralt and Dettlaff, “So, what’s your name? I'm Shani, I'm a healer like Regis, but nowhere near as good.” Shani leaned on the table across from Regis towards Dettlaff.
Regis answered, “I’d say you’re quite good, Shani. I respect how intelligent you are. Very careful with your patients.”
“Dettlaff van der Eretein.” His voice low and cold.
“…” The whole table grew quiet, again, at the mention of the name. Regis tried to cough and said something that was too quiet for anyone to notice. It finally set in to those that heard the story, just exactly who was sitting here with them. A murderous vampire that took out his anger on a whole city. Let his pets raze it and kill however they liked. Over a woman who betrayed and used him. One he trusted and loved dearly threw him away like it was nothing. Like garbage. A broken toy with no way of repair.
The others were unsure of what to do, this wasn’t their battle. The name Dettlaff. It was feared. Geralt felt the nervous heartrates of everyone whether it be the knowledge of the man being a vampire or simply the clear dislike between him and Dettlaff. The fear had seeped into a few of them, that being Zoltan, Dandelion, and Lambert. He could feel it that the others could see it on their face. Higher Vampires are not a joke. The silence lingered a tad too long. The concerned look of Regis had Geralt realize that Regis knew Dettlaff was feeling uncomfortable in the spotlight.
Regis smiled weakly, patting Geralt’s shoulder, “Geralt, I think a game of gwent would do us some good. Lambert. If you’d be so interested in a few rounds? I know you two like to play.”
Lambert blinked a few times, shaken from his stupor, “Gwent? Sure. Do you have a hundred crowns on you?” He stood and switched places with Zolten, who gladly let Lambert, to sit across from Geralt, in exchange for the end seat.
“Course I got the coin. Always ready to kick your ass.” This time Geralt pulled out his Scoia’tael deck.
“Ah, perfect. I got a few good cards to fight that set. Monsters!” Lambert normally carries two decks on his person, monsters and Scoia’tael.
Geralt admired how well Lambert was handling being around the murderous vampire. Everyone else looked like they wanted to get away from the unpredictable creature or at least stay clear of the conflict between him and Geralt. Afeared that they’ll get in the crossfire of something fatal. Starting out with a weak card, then Lambert placed a card. The game carried on for a while. It was almost scary how easy it was to forget about the quiet vampire that sat just one person over. The lack of breathing and heartbeat was quickly out of mind, but his presence was strong. Lambert chugged another beer and placed his final card.
Geralt sighed, throwing his decoy card on the table.
“Yes! Fuck yes! I won! Hand over a hundred crowns.” Lambert smugly held out his hand, “Come ooon.”
“Fine fine…” He pulled out a hundred and tossed them over to the other Witcher.
“Serves you right! That’s for beating me last game.” Lambert put away his hard-won coin, “Ah, how nice.”
“Okay, shut up.”
“No no no. I'm not letting you live that down. I beat you with your Scoia’tael deck? Whoa, put that on the calendar! Gotta make it an anniversary.” Lambert grinned.
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah yeah!” Lambert rolled his eyes, “I can easily beat you again! Just say the word and get your coin ready, you fat fuck.”
Crossing his arms, “You sure you wanna risk that?”
Lambert pursed his lips, thinking. He took out his monster’s deck once more, “I’ll gamble. But I'm sure I’ll get another hundred out of you.”
Geralt rolled his eyes, “Sure, sure. Just play.”
Dettlaff had relaxed a bit, with both Witcher’s attention placed elsewhere, the vampire spoke softly with Regis. The shorter vampire nodded and began to answer a question Dettlaff had asked. Geralt hadn’t even noticed with alcohol in his system and full focus on the game and the numbing of Dandelion’s lute along with his singing.
“You see, it’s a fun little card game with real creatures and people as the pieces. The higher the total number, you win. There are five factions, Northern Realms, Nilfgaard, Skellege, Scoia’tael and monsters.”
“Hmm, I see.” A low voice answered.
Geralt was relieved that Pricilla and Dandelion had announced that they’ll start they’re show, because he was losing. Again. Lambert was sure to continue the game after. Geralt was going to make sure they don’t. He slid over another Zerrikanian ale to the other Witcher and took a few swigs of his own.
The duo bards set up and both finding a harmonious melody with each other and their voices, albeit Pricilla was carrying even after her vocal cords took some damage that one time, but they worked very well together. They all were enraptured by their performance. A soft melody carried through the tavern. The skillful and quick plucking of the lutes and the lyrics speak of a long-lost lover that had been separated and finally found once more. Embracing each other and whatnots. Geralt couldn’t help but look to Regis who smiled a toothy grin at him.
“Feels like us in a way.”
“Oh, I'm sure we nuzzle each other’s faces and throw kisses across the room just as common lovers do.”
Geralt laughed, “I meant the reuniting parts. Finding each other.”
Regis leaned into him, “I know.”
He threw his arm around the vampire, sharing warmth with him and feeling his breath that wasn’t needed, yet the vampire did it anyway. He found comfort in that. Being able to feel Regis being alive and here eased something in his mind and soul.
---
They were clearing things up as the night grew later and later. Only Lambert, Geralt, Regis and Dettlaff were left. Geralt wanted to speak with Eskel prior to heading off to bed in case the other Witcher had to leave early in the morning.
“I was wondering, why do you bet so much on gwent?” Regis casually asked, also to help with the awkwardness between Geralt and Dettlaff now that everyone had headed off to bed there were less distractions.
Lambert leaned on his palm, “Because it’s fun. We can’t play that high stakes with other people, they’d never play a serious intense game of gwent otherwise. The most I've ever seen anyone that isn’t me and Geralt or Eskel, bet only ten crowns or so. Never ever, more than thirty. And after Geralt took my rare card, I’d rather not risk losing more cards.”
“Yeah, you’d think everyone has a chance to kill a monster and get the whole village to pitch in to get paid.” Geralt sighed into his drink.
“Hey, sorry I'm so late.” The door creaked open revealing a slightly battered up Eskel, several tears in his armor with dried blood on his boots and gloves.
“No worries. Though you did miss the show.” Geralt turned to face him.
“I beat Geralt with my monster deck!” Lambert lifted his tankard to the sky, “The smug bastard took too much of my coin over the years, now it’s revenge!” He cheerfully cried and finished his mug.
“Ah really?! I missed that? Fuck. I call next.” Eskel moseyed on over and gave Geralt a hug and firm handshake, “You look tired. Off to bed?”
“Yeah, wanted to see you before. Bet you’ll be off early?”
“Not really. Got a noonwraith, so got time till then.” Eskel nodded over at Regis, “Hey, Regis.” Then giving a little nod to Dettlaff, whom he was unfamiliar with.
“Greetings, Eskel. Nice to see you again.”
“How’s things going with Geralt? Been hard keeping up with the traveling each year?”
“Not at all. It’s rather enjoyable to explore the lands and aiding people. Some of which I've been seeing for the first time, beautiful scenery most times. It’s much better to have his company with me than to be traveling alone.”
“Good, keeps him outta our hair.” Eskel chuckled, also drawing out a heartly laugh from Lambert.
Lambert added, “’A Witcher is a lone hunter!’” He quoted.
“Ha. Ha.” Geralt rolled his cat’s eyes at him, “Come on Regis. I've had enough of these idiots.” He took Regis’ hand and the two headed off upstairs.
Of course, not without a farewell from Regis. And a worried glace towards Dettlaff who seemed content to lounge around with two Witchers. Eskel took a seat next to Dettlaff without a second thought, “Any ale left?”
“Course!” Lambert got out of his seat to refill his tankard and get one for Eskel, “Dettlaff?”
The vampire seemed surprised to be addressed, seemingly about to get up from his seat to leave, “Hm?” Winter blue eyes looked over.
Lambert met his gaze, “You want some ale? Beer?”
There was a slight pause, “Wine, if you would.”
“Fancy ass.” Lambert put his ale on the table and sild over a tankard to Eskel, who was stunned to hear the name and realize who’s he's sitting next to.
With no wine glass, Lambert filled a tankard with the grape scented alcohol, “Here.” He set it down in the middle of the table for Dettlaff.
“Appreciated.”
“So, a vampire huh?”
“Yes. And you, a Witcher.” Dettlaff retorted.
“Heh, not often I drink with a vampire.” Eskel pressed the mug to his lips.
“You’ve done it before?” Lambert rolled the tankard between his hands, “I wouldn’t be surprised. Knowing you.” He recalled about the succubus Eskel had slept with.
Eskel scoffed and took a small sip, “Come on, let’s play. Enough about all that.”
Dettlaff was confused. But welcomed the nonchalant reaction to finding out his nature. Though he could tell the man’s heart was a bit faster, nervous perhaps. It’s hard to read how the pulse chances and what causes them in humans.
“Hundred?”
“Of course.” Eskel took out his Skellege deck.
“Switching again? Last time it was Nilfgaard.”
“I collected some really good Nilfgaard ones. Can’t blame me for wanting to try Skellege.” The taller Witcher with a few nasty scars on the right side of his face took a small swig of his ale.
Dettlaff elegantly took sips of his wine, “This game. How does it work?”
Lambert smirked, “Interested? Just watch this round and I can teach you next.”
Dettlaff rose his narrow black brows.
Eskel took a quick glance at the vampire, Lambert could feel Eskel’s heartbeat, a little fast. He was sure Dettlaff could feel it too, yet he took no offence so it seemed. Lambert blamed his faster heartrate on the alcohol, everyone’s gets a little up there. Not at all the blue that met his eyes whenever he spoke.
Lambert pointed a few things to Dettlaff that would happen in gwent. Like the chosen cards special abilities. His, what he likes to call the king card, lets him play a biting frost. Telling him that it’s mentally counted how many points they have. Dettlaff seemed like he was paying attention and at least semi interested in it.
That was good, probably. At least it was entertaining enough. He wasn’t sure why the vampire hadn’t left yet. But at least he could play some more gwent. Lambert stewed in frustration. He had lost to Eskel. His hundred crowns he had just won was being passed over to Eskel’s hands.
“Eat shit.”
“Ugh.” Lambert rolled his eyes, “Two hundred next time. Dettlaff, switch seats. I’ll teach you.”
Blue eyes widened, “Oh? You will?”
Eskel rose to get more ale anyway, allowing for the vampire to take his seat.
“What you want? Monster deck? Scoia’tael?” He took out his other deck and offered it to the vampire.
“I’ll take Scoia’tael.” Their hands brushed upon passing the deck over. Dettlaff had placed the deck in the correct spot.
Lambert began explaining the basics. Pointing out where the king card goes and where the weather effects would go. Which row each would be applied to as well. Pointing out the icons on the cards of that have abilities and said that the sword goes in the front, bow in the middle, and catapult looking thing in the back.
Eskel sat beside Dettlaff again, watching them play as he added in some of his own commentary. Created a heated argument between the two over which card to play. All the while Dettlaff being mostly quiet other than a few questions. Lambert wondered if the vampire had a heartbeat, would he be nervous being crowded like this by two Witchers? The man hadn’t seemed nervous at all. Only around Geralt. Understandably so. The white wolf is the most advanced Witcher out of the three of them. If anyone could take down a higher vampire and not die, it’d be him.
Eskel began laughing loudly, “No way! A newbie kicked your ass! How’d you lose so badly?! Ahahahah!” Slamming his hand on his knee as he cackled.
“Shut up! I have good cards in both decks. Ever heard of beginner’s luck?! That’s what this is! I was going easy anyway.”
“I'm sure.” A sly smirk crossed the vampires’ lips.
“Shut up. Again.” Lambert shuffled his deck. Watching Dettlaff do the same, surprised to find the vampire humoring him.
Eskel was starting to get tired, “We sharing a room?”
“Yeah, I’ll take the floor since I got the bed last time.”
“Alright. Night.”
Lambert was staring at his hand of cards intensely, thinking about which ones to play next. Just a few points behind and one card ability left. Dettlaff seemed more so bored if anything, eyeing the field lazily. He couldn’t help but wonder why the vampire is still here at all. Perhaps because Regis is? He’s heard something something bond. Whatnots.
This time he did win the game. He smiled, collecting his cards, “Finally! You put up quite the fight.” He took back his Scoia’tael deck from Dettlaff.
“What do you think? Isn’t it fun?”
Dettlaff gave a one shoulder shrug, “It is entertaining enough.”
“You’ll get addicted one day. I might bet extra coin to spite Geralt. I was winning again before the performance began.” He chuckled.
Now it was extremely awkward. It was just him and the vampire down here. He hadn’t realized it before. Hitting the early hours of morn, where light hasn’t yet touched the earth from the horizon line.
“Curious, but why are you and Witcher Eskel so accepting?”
“Hm?” Lambert tilted his head back to get the rest of his ale, which was no more than a few drops.
“About me? I do believe you’ve heard about the events of… Toussaint.”
He was a bit tipsy, looking at Dettlaff’s face. The vampires’ brows were creasing together. Winter eyes met golden ones, “I mean. It was up to Geralt to let you go. He can tell us whatever his side of it was. He’d do the same if-if it was one of us that made the choice… Hic.” Lambert rubbed his eyes, feeling tired, his arm on the table lazily gesturing as he spoke, “If Geralt lets it slide and you're not hurting any of us, then I don’t see a problem. You’re good company either way.”
“…” Dettlaff only stared.
“What?”
“I appreciate it. You are not intolerable like Geralt though.”
“Hahhaha! He's a prick, isn’t he?” He half covered his mouth as he laughed, “He's like a brother to me. I trust him to have our safety in mind, d-don’t tell him I said that though. He deems you good enough to be around us and leave you unattended.”
“If that was the case, I doubt he would've if it was just him. Two other Witchers were present.”
“Look, Dettlaff.” Lambert leaned closer, grabbing his arm, “Shut up and stop brooding. Geralt does the same shit. If you enjoy our company and you’re not that much of an asshole, I'm sure you’re welcome to come again. I’d always be down to play gwent. Or drink if you're paying.”
Dettlaff tilted his head slightly, “Is that an offer?”
“What? Gwent?” Lambert withdrew his hand from Dettlaff’s wrist.
“Either.”
“Sure. I don’t mind. If I must say, you’re a helluva lot better than Yennefer. She's a right prick! Nag nag nag! She doesn’t shut up about whatever set her off.” He imitated her voice, “Geralt, blah blah blah. Sorceresses are able to curse you if you keep prying like that. Blah blah blah, why can’t you be more gentlemanly. Have some class. Get this for me, get that for me.” He combed through his short black hair, no longer mimicking her, “So glad she’s not here. Would've made tensions a lot higher.”
“Higher than with me around?”
“Oh Abso- fucking-lutely! You’d be able to see the pure stress on Geralt’s face. There's always sexual tension with them among other things. And, get this, Yen don’t know ‘bout Regis yet! That’s a conversation I wouldn’t want to have with her. But I’d pay good coin to watch!” He chuckled to himself.
“Interesting. Why hasn’t he told her?”
“Who knows?” He shrugged, “Not my business. They broke up, but I'm sure she’ll be back to pestering him soon enough. She just can’t stay away from pretty boy for long.”
“I shall head out now. I’ve had enough.”
Lambert was still feeling a bit of buzz from the alcohol and the exhaustion, “I hope…” He sighed, “I was good company for you too. I know I'm a bit of an asshole, but I'm a Witcher…” He ruffled his hair, looking down, “I just can’t help it. Being treated like shit my whole life… I just don’t know any different. I don’t even know how Geralt is able to be so, so likeable!” He sighed.
“He's not. You were good company. Thank you for teaching me gwent.”
Lambert lifted his head, “Yeah… I-I should get some rest. Good night.” He struggled to rise from his seat with a sway but managed okay. Heading to the stairs, he heard a soft good night in response. Why did that warm something in him?
Finding his and Eskel’s room, he locked the door, knowing someone might burst in at seven AM to wake them. He found that Eskel had already thrown a pillow on the floor and a blanket or two. He unbuckled his swords and belts, shrugging off his heavy jacket and armor. Lying down after washing out his mouth, something akin to brushing his teeth. He fell into an easy slumber within only a few minutes, which was unusual.