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Leaving the past behind and starting a new chapter in Life.
Someone who would aid her on her journey. She ran her mind over the possibilities and came up with only one name.
A week later here they were, galloping across the dusty roads beneath the mountains of Skellige.
The sun had slowly drooped over the horizon as they rode and the forest around them, which seemed quaintly picturesque only an hour ago, had come to seem as if it was inhabited by shadows. The two of them could defend themselves well enough but there was no reason to invite trouble, and they stopped at the first inn they came across.
"nly've uneroom," the innkeep said. He was an old and wrinkly man and his eyes ran over them coldly. The customers, sitting at poorly-lighted tables and warily drinking mugs of ale, seemed on the rough side as well: torn and patched clothing, shaved heads, the glint of metal at their sides. Yennefer made sure to toss back the edge of her cloak and reveal the dagger at her side lest any here concoct a scheme to take advantage of them.
Fortunately, none accosted them as they made their way up the stairs to their lodging. The room itself was barely big enough for one guest; cold, sparsely furnished, and smelling like cleaning solution, it had only the single bed, though fortunately it looked to be sufficiently wide for the both of them.
"Men," Yennefer said as she sat down to unhook her boots. There was a finality to her tone which implied that no further elaboration was needed.
Triss sighed. A week ago Yennefer was refusing to speak to her and their interactions were confined to stiff discussions of matters of necessity; but now a shared misfortune had made friends of them again. She was glad, for she missed her friend, missed the heart-to-hearts they had and the adventures they had gone on together.
"We have both been entranced," Triss said mournfully.
Yennefer's eyes narrowed. "I have the djinn to thank for my obsession. What have you to blame?"
"Only myself," Triss replied. She turned her glance out the window, unable to meet Yennefer's eyes. "Something kindled within me whenever I remembered the two of you side by side, back in the old days."
"Perhaps," she went on, "our fling had less to do with him than it did with you; when I thought you had died..."
"Enough," Yennefer said. Turning to look her friend in the face, Triss noticed she did not seem upset.
"Let us never speak of him again," Yennefer said as she walked over and the two of them embraced in a warm hug, the first in many years. It was just like Yen: not a minute after she had brought up the subject, she was insisting they abandon it forever.
"It's late," Triss said and Yennefer nodded in assent. Wordlessly she cast the spell and a moment later she was standing nude over the bed arranging her pillow.
Triss stopped herself from gasping. Was this a hint, an invitation? Some of the sorceresses were rumoured to dally with other women but there were never any such rumours about Yennefer; if anything, she was always spoken of in terms of her connection to the witcher.
She let her glance run over Yen's body and found a wellspring of desire growing within her. She had a nice bottom, tight, perky, and Triss imagined cupping it with her hands. Her breasts were a bit smaller than her own but still a mouthful, and she wondered how they would feel in her hands, what it would be like to give them some gentle bites.
Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Yennefer slipped under the blankets.
Uncertain of what her friend intended, Triss decided it was safest to return the gesture. She whispered the incantation and her own clothes disappeared; one more whisper and the candles in the room extinguished. She was now standing in darkness, the outline of her voluptuous breasts visible in the moonlight, and she suddenly felt embarrassed. Quickly she moved on to the bed and slipped under the blankets as well.
They lay side by side for a few minutes, neither making any movements and both hearing the other brea