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Gloomy dark sky was looming over Visima as the first drops of rain started to fall down on its streets. Distant thunders heralded the storm and successfully quickened those who where unlucky enough to still be outside. Vernon Roche was sitting behind his desk in a small room being a part of his house. The narrow, corner building which he could call his own was granted to him as a sort of thank-you from King Foltest. 'For the devotion and loyalty to the Temerian cause' was the reasoning behind this not luxurious, but well located gift. Even tho it was free of nicety in any way, it contained everything that someone who was rarely in for a longer stay could ask for; kitchen situated on the first floor and a room on the attic. Furnished with a bed, a desk, two chairs and a cupboard with some shelves. The only source of light besides a candle in the evening was a window. Providing a good view of the trade quarter as well as an emergency escape rout on the roof. Or in some rare cases a way in.
The rain started to pick up, Vernon Roche was getting close to finishing his studies of the strongholds La Valette plans when the unclosed window creaked and someone entered the room.
"Close the window"- he said as the visitor fully passed the windowsill, not even turning his head.
"It's a pleasure to see you too. Truly. No wonder you live alone with this attitude, I've seen trolls with better manners"
"You're making a puddle Iorveth" Roche lifted his sight, granting his guest a look. The tall skinny frame looked as usual, beside being soaking wet. Red bandanna covering the scarred part of Iorveths face was now a dark scarlet colour thanks to the water. Black hair stuck to his temples and the singular green eye was fixated on Roche. He always felt as if the elf could stare through his soul-"to what do I owe the pleasure" he asked, putting the maps he has been studing before into a drawer.
"Beside the obvious slaughter of my commando for which i should slit your through here and now."- Iorveth moved to sit on the chair opposite of Roche, and begun to undo his shoes- "I was around and thought I might see how you are"
"What were you doing around"
"Is this an interrogation"
"You're never just around"
"Manners worse than trolls" huffed Iorveth, "I'm doing good, thanks for asking. No, there were no problems on my way here. Yes, I would like something to drink." The elf, now sited comfortably without his soaked shoes and gloves. He knew that his dodges to Vernon's questions where far to obvious, but it didn't really matter. In matter of weeks the dh'oine will know what brought him to Visima. In a matter of weeks this mesalianse of their will be over, and both of them will go back to what they were supposed to do. To hunting each other, to spying on one another, to wishing that the other wouldn't wake up in the morning.
Meeting in the late evening to chat and share a drink wasn't what they were supposed to be doing. Iorveth was perfectly aware of that.
Roche sighed "You now where the drinks are, you could've just pour them yourself" he said as he got to his feet.
Elven gaze lazily followed the dh'oine, who have turned his back at him, moving to a nearby cupboard. He could have kill him now. If he wanted to.
***
When Iorveth first heard the name Vernon Roche he didn't give it too much mind. Just another special forces' commander that's all. He will have an encounter with him in no time and probably will end his career rather fast, after all every first commander of a newly created special forces unit had to fall by his hand.
And then Vernon Roche got rid of his commando.
Turns out that he had heavily underestimated his opponent, and his people had to pay the highest price for it. Iorveth was livid. He was going to kill the dh'oine, if that was the last thing he would do. He wanted to know everything about the human. From that moment, the name Vernon Roche wasn't just a name of some plotting bastard human that got lucky, or just happened do go far enough the king's ass to be granted the position of a special forces officer no. Now, Vernon Roche was the one human commander that outsmarted the woodland fox. And Iorveth just couldn't bare the disgrace.
However, after the first wave of rage washed out. Iorveth started to feel something else towards his foe. It was admiration. He did not only outsmart him, he outsmarted his entire commando. The one which survived so long killed so many dh'oine, and yet this one was smarter. Yes, that was a worthy opponent, someone who could match his tactical skills. Someone who provided a challenge.
When he first clashed with the blue stripes, well its easy to say that he didn't expect what he saw. The unit was close in numbers to a scoiatell commando. Unlike other special forces they didn't have a specific uniform. One thing in common where the blue stripes painted on their outfits, some of the more eager ones had them painted on their faces as well. They weren't like regular solders who slowly move forward into battle, barely knowing which side of the sword to hold. No, they were well-trained fierce and brutal. In all that rabble Iorveth tried to make up the one that suited the description of their commander, and keep his head at the same time. That's when he saw him. He wasn't what he expected him to be. A bit shorter than him, in a blue uniform, with a chaperon on his head and longsword in hand he screamed at his soldiers giving orders. 'This is the one dh'oine that defeated me' Thought Iorveth. Well, he already saw the human it would only be appropriate to return the favour, would't it be? Show himself, let the commander know who he's fighting against. He fired in the human direction.
Moment when his relationship with the human started to take a different rout came unexpected. It's not that he was planning to bond with his enemy no, he was planning to kill him, but to do that he had to stay alive and the group of nekkers they have stumbled upon was doing everything in its power to change that. In spite of new circumstances, they had to stop their fight and focus on the monsters.
"Couldn't have you picked a better place for a dual, this is a big forest you know!"
"If you would just collet your people and go as intended we wouldn't be here you know" said Iorveth pushing away the two nekkers storming at him "but of course, you had to step out of line and chase me like a mad mongrel when it sees a squirrel. Watch out!"
Turned out the elve didn't have to repeat himself. Roche, now fully focused on the combat, swung his longsword beheading three incoming nekkers. That move definitely impressed Iorveth, if it wasn't for the fact that his hands where occupied he would probably applaud. Well, there was no way he will be worse at monster slaying than a dh'oine. He paraded an incoming hit throwing the creature back forcing it to keep distant with one of his sabres, and slicing his head open with another. Breathing heavily he looked around for more threats.
"Well it looks like we got them all. To be fair I'm quite impressed, turns out you are not only good at killing endangered species, but invasive ones as well. I guess that's just a human thing, being good at slaughter-" he stopped mid turn, wanting his words to come across as dramatic, but didn't get to finish. The thing that grasped his attention was a throbbing wound on Vernon's arm that he was poorly trying to manage. Of course, nekkers claws where hard to doge even for skilled warriors that encountered them daily.
For someone who wasn't that experienced it was almost impossible especially in a crowd.
"You have to patch this up"
"Oh really? No shit" answered the men with a smirk which quickly turned into a frown as he touched the wound.
"There's no need to be vulgar Vernon, this will need a few stitches, now don't move your hand that much you're just further opening it up." Iorveth shouldn't care about the state of his enemy wound. He should pry it even more open in anything. "Here let me help"
"Keep your hands to yourself elf. I don't need your bloody help" Stated Vernon "Besides, I know how to treat wounds, thank you very much"
"That's what I'm afraid of, your species you know. You are more successful at destroying organisms then nursing them back to health" Iorveth looked around his sight resting on a red flower. "Here you go" he said passing the flower to Roche. "Sanguisorba- helps with bleeds, should be enough to get you back to your people"
Roche looked uncertain, considering the possible intentions behind Iorveths action. The long hesitation didn't go unnoticed.
"If i wanted to kill you now, you would be long dead. On top of that, if you die simply from the fact that you got your wound infected because you chose to scratch it instead of treating it. It would mean that you're an idiot, and I will be damned if an idiot outsmarted me."
Roche finally took the plant and created a provisional dressing for his wound. Picked up his weapon and left.
"This is not our last meeting elf. Next time you won't be so lucky"
"You mean that you won't be so unlucky"
"Next time. I will kill you next time"
***
As it later turned out, Vernon didn't fulfil his promise. Killing Iorveth was still on top of his priorities list but an action this huge required preparation. He was certainly unprepared when stumbling upon the elf in a cave. It was no doubt it was Iorveth, sitting with his back turned away from the caves entrance, a letter in one hand, and a bottle in the other.
"What are you doing here dh'oine" came from the fireplace.
"I've come to end you, now stand" Roche drew his sword, awaiting an attack.
Only a resigned sight answered. "Go ahead"
That wasn't something he expected. The response knocked him out of rhythm and forced to take a closer look at the elf in front of him. The bandanna, still present, but moved to the side, revealing more black hair. Roche circled the fire now standing opposite of Iorveth. Whatever the elf was drinking must've been strong since his face was slightly flushed. The singular green eye shined in the fire flames, if it wasn't Iorveth he was looking at he would say that he looked pretty.
"The hell is wrong, a girl rejected you? Stop playing around I don't buy it."
"I'm just making it easier for you. If you could just get on with it, I would be thankful. Saves us both a lot of time. You especially, dh'oine crumble to dust astonishingly fast, its surprising that you are so numerous." Saying that Iorveth took a swing from his bottle and threw the letter into the fire.
"What the hell happened. I get it a heartbreak is hard but i thought it would take more than that to crash the spirit of the infamous scoiatell comm-"
"Do you have a family, Vernon" Iorveth stopped him. Not hearing an answer he kept on talking. "I suppose not, if you had one you wouldn't spend all your time on chasing elves through the forest. You would have something to lose." He sighed "Family Vernon, it's enough for most to reconsider their life. To settle in order to keep its safe." Iorveth looked sad. "You have to be a cold son-of-a-bitch to let it suffer."
When getting inside this cave the thought of listening to Iorveths sorrows didn't even cross Roche's mind. But his intuition told him to listen, so he did. Perhaps he'll hear something worthy of interest. The elf continued his story.
"My daughter, she was in a commando stationing near Novigrad. I thought that if she would be far from me, far from all this mess she would have been safer. Turns out that even the dh'onish city of culture wasn't cultural enough to restrain from pogroms." He paused. Looking into the fire pain written all over his face. Roche never seen him like this. The elf looked so...vulnerable.
A cold shiver run down Vernon's spine. Elf took a swing from his bottle and went on.
"They fell into a trap. Remaining scoia'tael didn't find her body, but still, they have no idea where she might be. She and few other young elves."
Having finished his story Iorveth sighed "I don't know why I am telling you this, if it was you who had pacified them you would be given another medal. Which one would it be... second?"
"Third"- corrected Roche, lowering his sword. "And they don't give you medals for slaying random elven youth."
"They don't?"- melancholy on Iorveths face was replaced with amusement, green eye shining venomously. Roche tense shoulders relaxed. That looked more like the Iorveth he knew.
"Sarcasm suits you better than melancholy." Roche sat down, putting his sword away. "Now pass me the bottle. It's unkind to get drunk alone in company."
Roche in his career of a special forces officer did a lot of things that he never thought he'd done. Those experiences showed him that saying that you won't do something is pointless, because when the moment comes you just might do it anyway. Therefore, he lived convinced that he is capable of doing anything if the situation requires it and that there is nothing that would surprise him any more.
But at this moment he was getting drunk with an elven officer who he was supposed to kill. That surprised him.
"Bullshit, if Nadjern haven't taken half of the military to conquer some stronghold that didn't even have so much tactical potential maybe then the main forces wouldn't have been crashed by the cavalry"-the elf spatted. The drinks were now starting to get to him causing him to become rather talkative.
"Nadjern was in a bind. He was already cut off from the main forces there was no way he could've come back. This was the last possibility either wait for death or get to the stronghold."- Roche even when drunk stood strong in defence of the norven military mind. "Besides even if he did come back, the cavalry had the advantage of going downhill. The only difference his presence would make would be the number of those who had been trampled by horses' hooves. They had to retreat anyway"
"Yeah, they bolted so fast, it was beautiful to watch."
They were now sitting closer. Close enough that Roche could get a better look at Iorveth scar. The blow that did it must've been strong, depriving the elf of teeth in his upper jaw, and obviously of his eye as well. He still hadn't seen everything but from what he did he formed a conclusion that it was a miracle that Iorveth survived. The infection must have been crazy. Despite the wound Iorveth was still beautiful, in Vernon's eyes at least. It wasn't a common statement, most people who saw Iorveth on the wanted posters claimed that he lost his elven beauty with his eye. Roche didn't agree in the slightest.
"Those wanted posters don't give you justice"- he said before what he has said fully got to him.
"Oh is that so" came a response after a moment of silence. "Have you become an art critic recently."
"I'm just saying that they don't stay true to the source material. Completely skipping your best features"
Iorveth laughed "And what would they be Vernon Roche?"
"Well first, your jaw is too long" the elf shifted closer. "Your lips are also wrong, and they completely skipped your tattoo, which since it's a characteristic aspect should have been added"
They were sitting really close to each other now, closer that anticipated. Iorveths breath creased Vernon's cheek.
"So the reason why I haven't been capture yet was not my tactical mind, but simply a shitty wanted poster that made me unrecognizable"
"I didn't say that" Vernon looked into Iorveths eye "I'm just pointing out the defects. You are far more, lets say... Appealing in person"
Iorveths gaze was intense slowly moving over the dh'oine's face. The human now looked coy, his expression softened by the liquor. And he said that he looked appealing. Appealing hm?
"I'm going to do something very stupid now Vernon." Saying that he closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together. Roche did not stop him.
And turned out to be a good kisser as well.
***
"So what will you be drinking" Roche scanned the shelf looking for something to serve. "I can offer you... let's see. Temerian rye, some leftover beauclair wine, or compote thats been standing here for gods-only-know how long." Not hearing the response he turned around. "Now don't think too hard, this wasn't a hard question."
Iorveths absent eye now light up. He looked up meeting Vernon's gaze. "I take the rye. Since when do you drink wine?"
"I don't. The ladies do." Vernon put down two cups and opened the bottle with a pop.
"Ladies visit you? You?" Vernon send him a look. "Oh I get it. You mean prostitutes. That's more like it. Should've just call them that. Or do you call them ladies for the sake of your past." Iorveth was pushing it. He could see it on Vernon's face. The human sighed heavily and took a slip from the bottle.
"Behave or I'll hit you" he warned. Iorveth just smiled
"Do the older ones ever mention little you? 'Oh you look just like your mot-" the blow delivered to his face stopped him from finishing. The hit was hard enough to knock out the chair he was sitting on and him with it. His vision got a little blurry, but he could make up Vernon's silhouette. Dh'oine took another slip of vodka and then launched himself at Iorveth. This time the elf was prepared. Dodged the hit and grabbed Vernon's other hand that was already flying in his direction. After wrestling for a moment Iorveth managed (not without trouble) to pull the human under him. Immobilizing his hands by pining them on opposite sides of Vernon's head.
He moved his hips a little feeling the other mans erection. "Do all drunken fights get you aroused, or am I special." He asked sneering. The human under him panted. His face free of previous anger now looked soft. His eyes travelled over Iorveths face and body.
"You're so beautiful Iorveth. Such a beautiful son of a whore you are." He tried to get up but Iorveths grip stopped him. "I want to kiss you. Please, Iorveth"
Elf looked down at him. Vernon wasn't in his usual uniform, which was replaced by an under shirt and a pair of linen pants. The chaperon was also gone letting Vernon's dark hair be seen. This look combined with Roche flushed face and panting crated a truly preatty picture. Something squeezed in Iorveths stomach. If gods existed they were testing him now for sure. And he was not passing this trial.
"Well," he started and then added in a softer tone. Slowly letting go of Vernon's wrists "since you ask so nicely"
The human sat up and not wasting any time pressed their lips hungrily together. Iorveth let out a sigh of approval smiling into the kiss which encouraged Roche further, making him press their bodies closer, hugging Iorveths waist. Warm tounge moved over Iorveths lips licking its way into his mouth. A shiver run down Iorveths spine.
He thought about how he will be deprived of this pleasure in no time. He was going to make this human hate him. The same human who was now kissing him so eagerly. The same one who's hand was slowly unfastening his armour will curse him in a matter of weeks. At the mere thought of it he felt a stung in his heart. 'This is how it must be'- he told himself. Things must've come back to normal. This thing that unwrapped between them was wrong. Wrong and selfish and stupid and dangerous for both of them. He shouldn't have allowed this.
It was getting hard to think with Vernon's hands travelling up and down his body, forcing themself under his shirt, rubbing his nipples delicately. Iorveth was getting more and more light-headed thanks to Vernon's caresses. Yes, he had to end this, but not today.
He seated himself comfortably on Vernon's lap feeling the well pronounced bulge between his legs.
Today he'll let himself be selfish for the last time.
He bit Vernon's lips, earning him a quiet moan from the men. "Is that why you came to Visima?" Roche asked, his voice raspy.
Iorveth didn't answer right away. Guiding the men onto his back instead and undoing his pants. "Maybe, maybe not." He said.
Vernon's hands travelled down onto his hips. His human breathed heavily as his hand ghosted over Vernon's now hard prick.
"You know" he huffed "there's a bed right there"
"Shhh" Iorveth silenced him, pressing a soft kiss in the corner of his mouth. "We have plenty of time to get there."
***
It was still dark outside when Iorveth got ready to leave. Vernon was still asleep. He looked calm, tangled in the bedding. Iorveth smiled, feeling bitter-sweet. He came to the desk and opened the top drawer taking the strongholds plans out and putting them behind his belt. Closing the drawer he heard movement in the bed.
"You're going already?" Yawned Vernon. Iorveth told himself that the slight sadness in his voice was a product of his imagination.
"It's almost dawn." He answered opening the window. "Va fáill, Vernon Roche... don't get yourself killed" he said leaving.