A/N: This story takes place several months after Gerald of Rivia returns to the known world without any of his memories at the beginning of the first game, but presuming that the conspiracy concerning the secrets of the witchers (the main plot of the first game) has not yet been put in motion. Rated M for language, violence and adult situations.

Disclaimer: Some characters and content in this story are the ownership of Andrzej Sapkowski and/or Project CD Projekt Red. They created an awesome universe, and I borrowed some of it. No profit is being made and the following story is for entertainment purposes only.

I owe a thousand thanks to PestoMonkey, my wonderful beta-reader who has been a mountain of patience and kindness. Her help has been invaluable. She is also a very talented writer with a great imagination. Read her story Conjunction, a crossover between Dragon Age and The Witcher, to see what I mean.

Update - 20. July 2012: I have made some changes to the story - the most significant one is in the first chapter. You can read the details about it on my profile. Thank you to arkblazer for the input that has inspired this revision. I hope I caught all inconsistencies resulting from the change to the first chapter, but please let me know if you spot any. I apologize for any inconvenience.

A warm bath and a soft bed were a welcome luxury after three months on the road. Geralt took his boots off and threw them on the floor by the bed. A knock on the door interrupted him as he was in the process of discarding the rest of his attire. He took a few long strides across the room and opened the door. He expected to see the plump woman or the young boy from the inn bringing him warm water for his bath. That's why he was taken aback by the image that met his eyes.

"Hello Geralt." Her voice greeted him with a warm and excited tone, as if happy to see him. "May I please come in?" she continued as he stood there motionless while a thousand thoughts raced through his mind at the same time. "I want to talk to you."

"Who are you?" he asked suspiciously without moving. He would have guessed she was a sorceress, even if an unusual one as such, but his medallion was not vibrating, which was odd considering her appearance.

"My name is Ain. I have a work proposition for you. Will you hear me out?"

Still unsure of how to react, Geralt measured her from head to toe. The vibrant, light colours and fine fabrics of her attire indicated wealth. Thick gold bracelets adorned her ankles, and her feet were covered in soft brown leather shoes. Her long, dark hair was pulled back by a colorful scarf, and looked silky and healthy. If anyone could wear breeches and get away with it, it would be a sorceress. Sorceresses were the only women who could afford to become independent and confident, because they were powerful and respected enough. Though from what he knew, they preferred to wear elegant, lavish dresses. Besides, the woman in front of him looked very young, almost too young to have reached a position of significant power that would ensure her the wealth and nonconformity she was displaying. But Geralt knew looks could be deceiving. Sorceresses employed magic to alter their appearance, so they all looked in their twenties. Those magical alterations were not flawless, but his keen eyes could not detect even the smallest flaw in the beautiful features of the woman standing in front of him. She truly was a bundle of contradictions, and his curiosity was stirred.

"Please, Geralt." she pleaded impatiently, squirming a little under his scrutiny. "I mean you no harm."

He gave her an incredulous smile. Her slender figure barely posed any threat. At least no physical threat. He could snap her like a twig if he wanted. And she seemed to be alone. He took a step aside, holding the door open for her to come in. As she stepped past him into the room, a pleasant floral scent filled his nostrils. He closed the door and turned to face her. His eyes met hers and for a moment they just looked at each other intently, before she broke their gaze and looked around the room smiling. She took two small steps and leaned on the table in the middle of the room, gripping it for support.

"As I said, I have some work for you. I wish to travel and see the world, I need a guide. I'll pay you to accompany me in my travels for one year."

Geralt stepped towards Ain, grabbed the back of a chair by the table and pulled it out with a scraping sound. He took a seat and propped his feet up on the table, crossing them at the ankles as he crossed his arms over his chest. Ain turned towards him, half-sitting on the edge of the table. She gave him a small smile, but she seemed nervous, if the way she was gripping the edge of the table was any indication.

"How do you know my name?" he inquired in a relaxed yet categorical tone that reflected his posture.

"I've heard about you. It's not that strange, is it?" she shrugged. "Many people know you, you have travelled many places. There are books about witchers, and songs that sing of your deeds."

"So that's why you want to hire me? Because I'm famous?"

"I suppose I want to find out if the stories are true," she admitted thoughtfully. "If they hold any grain of truth, then there is no one better I could find for the job."

"Who are you?" he asked dropping his feet on the floor and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his parted thighs. "Where do you come from?"

"That is unimportant," she answered, standing and pacing towards the window. "I am not from here, that's why I need a guide. That's all you need to know," she said turning to face him again.

Geralt watched her intently and this time she held his gaze. He couldn't tell the colour of her eyes in the dim light of the room as the last of the daylight coming from the window behind her cast a shadow across her features.

"No," he said leaning back in the chair again.

"No?" she asked, surprised."No what?"

"I can't take the job," he said, resolute.

"Why not?" she insisted, obviously upset with his answer.

"That's no job for a witcher," he told her, unwavering, but inwardly amused by her reaction.

"But I'd pay you much more than you can earn from your job as a witcher." She came back and placed her hands on the table opposite him, leaning forward as she pleaded.

"You'll have to find someone else," he said, rising from his seat and walking towards the door, signaling to her that the meeting was over. In fact, he could hear some commotion on the stairs outside the door, and guessed that they were about to be interrupted very soon by the delivery of water for his bath.

"Wait," she said, following him hastily and gripping his arm to make him turn back to face her. "I don't want someone else. Please, I can make it worth your while. And you won't have to give up your work, if you want. Let me come along."

"That's not possible," he said, opening the door.

"Why not?" she begged, almost on the verge of tears, and pushed the door closed again.

"It's too dangerous. I can't take care of you."

"I can take care of myself," she insisted desperately. "I won't get in your way. Whatever you earn in a year, I'll pay you double or triple. Please, Geralt, anything you want," she said almost in one breath.

The silence that momentarily filled the room was broken by a hard knock on the door. Ain flinched and thus broke the intense exchange of looks between them. Geralt reached for the door again, and this time he was met by the plump landlady he had been expecting. Behind her was the boy he had met earlier at the stables when he arrived, and who he supposed was the innkeeper's son. He was carrying two buckets filled with steaming water.

"Sorry to disturb you witcher," the good woman fidgeted. "The water for your bath is ready. Come on boy, hurry up," she said, and made room for the boy to pass by. "I brought you clean towels," the woman continued, and handed him the stack of folded cloth she was holding. "I hope you find the room to your liking? And if you need anything, please let us know."

Geralt was surprised by the show of hospitality from his hostess. She hadn't been so obliging upon his arrival, and he guessed he was being tolerated as a guest only because of the slow season. The inn was quiet which meant not many people, if any, were lodged at the moment.

The woman looked searchingly into the room, and a big smile crossed her face when her eyes fell on Ain.

"Ah, my lady," the woman's face broke into a wide smile. "I see you found the witcher." She stretched out her neck to see better, as her vision got obstructed by the boy who was returning with the empty water buckets.

Geralt turned towards Ain to see her smiling politely as she responded. "Yes, Dorrit, thank you."

"Will you be staying the night my lady?" the nosy woman continued ignoring Geralt's stare.

"Should I make a room ready? T'is already dark, and dangerous for a young woman to travel alone."

"Yes, Dorrit, that would be good. I'll come find you soon." Ain said with a short bow of her head.

The landlady looked very pleased and turned to walk away, pushing the glaring boy standing at her side.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Geralt said as he closed the door.

"As are you, witcher. You drive a hard bargain, but I stand by what I said."

"That you'll give me anything I want?" he asked, smirking ironically.

"I don't think you will find a better offer," she answered keenly, clearly missing his sarcasm. "You get to do what you want, and get paid what you ask. Tenfold of what you usually earn, if that's what you want. The only string attached is that you let me accompany you for one year."

"Which one is it? Is it what I want, or is it tenfold?" he played along.

"I don't care about the price."

"What do you care for then?"

"To see the world. And I want you to be my guide."

"And you always get what you want?" he smiled nastily. "You'll have to tell me who you are," he continued when she didn't answer. She seemed troubled by his question, her expressive face turned suddenly stony.

"What does it matter who I am? Just trust me when I say I can fulfill my part of the bargain. I'll pay you what you ask. Does this mean you accept?" she asked hopefully, which he found strange, yet pleasant, but he kept a straight face.

"Not so fast," he said and closed the space between them in two strides. "Why do you want me?" he stared her down inquisitively. "If you have that much money, you could hire a guard escort."

"I want it to be you because of your past," she answered reluctantly.

"My past?" That got his undivided attention.

His past was lost to him. He couldn't remember any of it. He woke up at Kaer Morhen a few months back with no recollection of what had happened to him. He had hoped that his memory would return, but it didn't. And now he was looking for answers, wishing to know who he was.

"I'm listening," he added when she remained silent, just biting her lip. Being so close to her face, that gesture was distracting. The intimacy between them got heightened further by the dim light of dusk casting the room in shadows. He watched her full lips and suppressed with difficulty the desire to feel and taste them on the spot.

"I already told you, I've heard about you," she answered in a faltering voice. "And I ask you again, what does it matter?"

"I wouldn't mind knowing."

"And I think it is not important for the offer I made you. Please, consider it. You can give me your answer later, if you like. Just think about it."

"One year?" he asked. Reflecting on the life that he had led in the time since he woke, and judging by the tales of the other witchers at Kaer Morhen, Geralt was convinced that having her along was unsuitable with a witcher's path. Yet he felt drawn to her from the moment she had entered his room, and it wasn't only his desire to have her. She had an odd effect on him, something he couldn't put his finger on.

"One year," she answered softly. They stood there transfixed for a moment then Ain took a step back. "Your water is getting cold," she said, gesturing towards the end of the room where the wooden bathtub rested, full to the brim with steaming water. "I'll let you get to it."

She walked towards the door and opened it. Before she walked out, she stopped and turned. "I'll see you in the morning."

With that promise she left him alone in the dark.

I'll keep you to it, he smirked as he threw his shirt on the floor.