Peace in the Thunder

He was grateful that the University could afford him an escort, but it had complicated matters when skipping out of Francis’s lecture to the local academy. While the threat of darkspawn had dwindled, bands still roamed and it was better to be prepared than dead or worse, becoming a ghoul of sorts. Rene shuddered as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself. He didn’t want to think about the foul, grotesque creatures, not when a private audience lay ahead of him.

Cresting the hill, the cottage came into view from a short distance down the way. A light glimmered in one window, the beacon by which they’d arrange for him to know the house was safe to enter. Rene smiled, heart lifted knowing he would soon have his one wish back in his arm and relieved his journey was nearing an end.

Before he reached the bottom the dark skies had begun to weep heavily, soaking the ground through enough that his tracks would soon disappear in the deluge. The mud he trudged through the kitchen door he would deal with, later, after words had been said and deeds left unaired for indecency completed. Rene would abandon his cloak, peel his boots off for a pair of slippers he’d kept safe in his satchel, along with a bottle of their favourite wine.

Meandering the hall he would find her as expected, quietly reading, anxiously glancing out the window and then the doorway in which he had entered. [color=#44b8ff]“I’m afraid I got caught in the rain, but I’m glad to see your hospitality remains so generous to offer me sanctuary. Would you like a drink my dearest?” [/color]

Under the guise of checking on the family cottage in the country, so far the plan had gone rather well. Though at every corner she waited for the other shoe to drop, waited for something to happen that would prevent Claude from meeting with Rene as she so desired. Convincing Geralt that she wanted to go, hadn’t been too terribly difficult. The problem was paying off the spy. She generally knew all the spies he used, and which one would need to be paid off.

Once all the ducks were lined up, Claude put the plans into motion. She decided she would get to the cottage a full day prior to the planned meeting with Rene. That way it would give some wiggle room in case Geralt pulled something. She imagined if he were going to, he’d do it immediately. Then again, he might think she’d think that and plan accordingly. She couldn’t keep second guessing herself though, at the end of the day they were taking a risk and she had to accept that for what it was.

As she settled into the cottage, she busied herself with preparations for Rene’s arrival. The anticipation stirred a mix of emotions within her, fear and excitement battling each other. The storm outside mirrored the tempest within her, each thunderclap a reminder of the risks they were taking.

She made up the bed with fresh linens and set out a tray of cheeses and fruits, trying to create a sense of normalcy in the midst of the chaos. In the back of her mind, she knew that every minute leading up to his arrival was precious, a buffer against the uncertainty that lay ahead.

Still, she held onto the hope that their reunion would go as planned, without any unexpected interruptions. She glanced once more at the window, the beacon of light a symbol of her longing. She turned her attention back to her book, a distraction from her anxious thoughts. The sound of the rain against the windowpane was a soothing lullaby, a promise of peace amidst the thunder.

When Rene finally appeared, she put down the book. For a moment it almost felt like how their life should have been. Happily married, living together, her waiting for him to get home from a long day’s work at the University. Sadly that wasn’t the reality they lived in, but perhaps for a few hours, they could pretend that it was.

I worried the rain might hold you up. She explained, then quickly added. I’d love a drink, thank you! The drink she’d been nursing while reading was empty.

In the blissful moment before either spoke, Rene couldn’t help but lean against the frame in quiet awe, taking in the scene before him. She looked.. exactly how he imagined she would as mistress of the house, complete perfection in his eyes. To fulfil her request he willingly left the doorway, each step taken in shortening the distance sure and with purpose, but pausing at a display case to fetch clean glasses. He wouldn’t have her tainting their favourite with whatever poor excuse her cousin stocked.

[color=#44b8ff]“It was a little encumbering but I managed,”[/color] setting down the glass to free his hands to accomplish the uncorking without hindrance. Allowing the vintage to breathe a moment it too was placed on the table, forgotten while he greeted his love properly.

Rene crouched to his knees in front of her, one hand plucking the book from her hands to toss absently and discarded. Somewhere there was a librarian screaming at his treatment of the written word, but his focus was inherently elsewhere. Arms coiled around her snuggled form to aid the rest of him folding himself as deeply onto her lap as possible. All the while his sodden air dampened everything it came in contact with.

[color=#44b8ff]“How terrible is it, I’m all wet, and from nothing but precipitation and not perspiration.”[/color] With a stiff inhale through his nose, Rene would lift himself up some, a hand that drew her to him now shifting to cup her cheek. [color=#44b8ff]“Have you eaten? I won’t have you fainting on me while I’m worshipping every curve of you. I'll admit I'm famished from the walk.” [/color]

The sense of normalcy nearly engulfed them, as they sat together in the comforting silence of the room. It was as if Claude wasn’t bound by the chains of matrimony to another man, a man who was the physical embodiment of cruelty. A man who had long since extinguished any hopes of love within her. Rene, with his gentle demeanor and warm smile, seemed so perfectly at ease in the quaint little cottage, as if he had always belonged there.

Their personalities, their energies, they seemed to mesh and intertwine seamlessly, creating an atmosphere of tranquil harmony. Watching Rene in that space, in their shared solitude, felt like watching the last piece of a complex puzzle fall into place, completing a picture that had hitherto been incomplete.

She couldn’t help but stare at him, his presence bringing a sense of peace and contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time. His words echoed through the room, the sound a soothing balm to her troubled heart. There was something undeniably comforting about his presence, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill that had settled within her. She watched as he crouched down by her and tossed her book. She smiled but said nothing until he’d spoken.

I've eaten a bit, but I've been too anxious to have much of an appetite, she admitted. But I could definitely use a glass of this wine. Truth be told she’d had some crackers and cheese simply to try and settle her nervous stomach because the last thing she wanted was to finally have Rene arrive and only find herself too sick to do anything. Something that had always been a problem with her, something Rene would know. Any time her anxiety worsened, whether it was for a test or because of family pressure, she always got queasy and rarely could eat.

Curling his body into her, Rene’s brow rose, [color=#44b8ff]“My dear, there will be plenty of wine. Shall we move back into the kitchen? Let me fix us something light, yes?”[/color] He’d offer her a look and then impishly his brow wiggled.[color=#44b8ff] “Ah, yes, but first. I must do something.”[/color] The smile flashed wickedly while he took one of her hands to plant a soft kiss along her knuckles before turning and drawing her face towards him with the hand at her cheek. His kiss was soft, lingering and slow, but he refrained from falling completely under the spell of her lips against his. There would be plenty of time to become reacquainted fully.

Pulling away only to rest his forehead against hers, Rene sighed.[color=#44b8ff] “I have missed you terribly.”[/color] He could see his own eyes reflected in hers and he’d grin a moment, taking her in. He’d plant a heavy, but brief kiss to her forehead and then move to stand, taking her still trapped hand with him.[color=#44b8ff] “Come, show me what delights you and your cousin have left me to work with. I will cook, you can taste and feed me wine while I do so.” [/color]Perhaps because recipes were like equations, just with added steps and a flair for the dramatic was what attracted him to the “demeaning” task of cooking for oneself.

Rene found it soothing, an all consuming task that could distract him, rethink problems while focused on the presentation of his dishes. His housekeeper, much to her relief, had not, for some time, found him turning her kitchen into a rogue food laboratory though, but Rene didn’t require help navigating a kitchen. Once she was on her feet, he’d guide her back through the house, picking up the glasses and open wine on the way. His hand would play with hers, leading her to a chair but in a way that would cause her to turn in a spin before landing gently.

So far everything was going smoothly, though her guard wasn’t entirely down. Just because things were going well now didn’t mean that at any moment Geralt wouldn’t come racing through the door in an angry fit. She did her best to push those thoughts out of her mind and just live in the moment with Rene.

She was about to say something in response to his words, but then found herself lost in the kiss and entirely speechless, a state that Rene often left her in, something she desperately missed from their time apart. With Rene things were so easy, not mechanical and forced like with Geralt. A smile lingered on her face as he stopped kissing her to tell her he had missed her terribly.

Oh, how I’ve longed for this moment, and now that it’s finally here…. She couldn’t help but think about how badly missing him would hurt now that she’d had a taste again, not that she’d have it any other way, but the sooner they figured out a way to get rid of Geralt without hurting their families, the sooner she would finally be happy.

She followed Rene to the kitchen, her hand securely nestled in his. The simple act of cooking together felt so domestic, so ordinary, yet it was a precious moment they rarely got to share. She couldn't help but smile as he spun her into a chair, their playful banter a welcome distraction from the storm raging outside.

I’m afraid it’s not much, but I didn’t want to give us away by over preparing for the trip, if the food stores seemed like I was preparing for more than myself. Always having to think ten steps ahead of Geralt, but there was definitely enough to feed them.

He had taken great care to get here and an item in his possession had not sounded any alarm for lingering ears or magic. It paid to have some acquaintances with the lower classes, some being quite talented mages at the university. He’d demonstrate it to her later, after she was suitably fed and reassured. For the first time, in too long, they were completely alone.

While their parting on the dawn would be bittersweet, he would sooner part from her if it kept her safe in their momentary situation. He’d decided to play, now came deciding his strategy against his opponent. With information being key to it all, stepping out into the public Game would be precarious if he was unprepared. He would need to meet with Lucian, perhaps Ophelia too, perhaps gain players and distractions he could scout behind… but he was getting away with himself, his focus returning to his lady, the true sun in his life.

He’d glanced over the pantry briefly before turning to her, the lines of his face retreating, smoothing over as he took in her smile. [color=#44b8ff]“You know well, I need only a few ingredients to dazzle your palette.”[/color] His grin came easy, void of the heaviness of the past years. [color=#44b8ff]“An omelette perhaps, or..?”[/color] Palms reaching for the sleeves of his shirt to begin rolling them. [color=#44b8ff]“What you, my delightful imp, call Eggy Bread,”[/color] face mocked an exaggerated scowl, though offered no correction. [color=#44b8ff]“Or do I surprise you with something new?[/color]”

Hands used her chair's arms as leverage, his face leaning in to nuzzle into her neck to draw back and peck her lips. [color=#44b8ff]“You’re intelligent and wise, but from now until I leave, let us not mention him anymore, yes?” [/color]

It felt amazing to be doing mundane things with Rene, a glimpse at how their life could have been, if only things had gone differently. She wanted more of course, craved more, but for now her growling stomach protested and when she and Rene did make love, she didn’t want something as trivial as a growling stomach to interrupt the moment.

Claude nodded, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. I trust you, Rene. Surprise me, she responded, her voice barely above a whisper. She agreed to his suggestion, ready to leave the rest of the world behind and just exist in their little bubble, if only for a little while.

Though it wasn’t easy to entirely stop thinking about Geralt, if not impossible, but they didn’t need to discuss the things they already knew. No, tonight was about their passion for each other, their undying love, tonight was theirs.

The quaint domestic life had been the dream. While his mind would never fully cease their quiet calculations and musing over balancing equations, the simple life of gentle work and family were all Rene truly needed. A partner, not just of the flesh but of mind and soul to walk life’s turns, and experience their highs and lows. These quiet stolen moments would soon lengthen in time. There would be a day where when he came to leave her the duration would be mere hours and not days or months. Breakfast would be a daily occurrence and not just part of the sporadic secret meetings of the pair.

Light twinkled in the mathematician's eyes, [color=#44b8ff]“Of course you do. Your simple presence alone balances this fools equilibrium, who else would I choose to experiment for?”[/color] The question was rhetorical and after pulling a face at her, Rene would return to the bench, grabbing ingredients, pans and utensils to begin.

They would talk about the elephant in the room eventually, Geralt loomed too large to fully ignore entirely, but for the immediate time Rene would push the bastard from his mind. His immediate concerns were ensuring she was suitably fed and energised enough, especially when they eventually made it to the bed. [color=#44b8ff]“I’ll make you my new favourite, eggy in the basket, with a twist of course.” [/color]

Rene was preparing the meal, his movements appeared graceful and sure. The kitchen filled with the comforting aroma of butter and toasting bread, creating a warmth that was a stark contrast to the storm outside. Claude watched him, her heart swelling with affection. For a moment, they were just two people in love, sharing a simple meal, and it was perfect.

That sounds delightful, I can't wait to try it, she responded, her gaze never leaving him as she watched him move around the kitchen with ease. It was these small moments that she cherished the most, the ones that felt so normal and real. It was almost perfect enough that Geralt had left her mind entirely, but until he was dead, she couldn’t afford to push him out of her mind entirely.

There was so much that she wanted to say, and so little time. She didn’t want the moment to end, even though the next morning she knew it would have to, she’d have to go back to her husband and her awful nightmare of a marriage. Did she comment on the fact that around Rene’s eyes it looks like he hadn’t been sleeping well, she walked close and brushed her hand through his hair, careful not to get too much in the way while he cooked, but desperate to touch him.

After setting the ingredients to one side and preparing the stove, Rene soon rolled his sleeves up to wash his hands first. The bread was sliced next, the eggs and their appropriate seasoning prepared in a bowl, suitably whisked enough. A pan, greased lightly was placed on the warmed stove, but he turned again to check on her once again.

Come here, reaching out to take her hand and pull her back into his chest, his freehand taking hers. Let me show you, it’s remarkably easy once you know the steps. Like dancing. With her hands in his, Rene guided her through the process of making a hole in the cut slice, dipping it into the mixture and then tossing it into the pan. He’d guide her back to the eggs, Now crack one, into the middle, see, Eggy in the Basket.

He’d nuzzle into her neck, inhaling the scent of her deeply while one eye kept watch over their actions. I will admit, I am looking forward to a sleep without worry. Since the Wedding I fear I only slept less. His voice muffled against her throat, lips pressing a soft, but lingering peck against the skin behind her ear. Now we flip the basket, so both sides are done… or do you wish for a runny basket?

She laughed softly, the comforting rhythm of cooking with Rene providing a welcome distraction from her nagging worries. A runny basket sounds perfect, she said, a warm smile spreading across her face. And yes, a full night's sleep without worry sounds like heaven right now.

She leaned into Rene as he explained all the steps, feeling suddenly like there was far too much clothing involved at the moment and she’d prefer far less, but as her stomach rumbled a bit in anticipation for the food, she realised how important it was that she ate first, and then fed her more carnal desires.

She savored each moment, the simplicity of their actions amplifying the intimacy they shared. It's moments like these that I've been dreaming of, Rene, she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. Just you and me, living our lives without fear or consequence. It's all I've ever wanted. When was the last time she’d felt this relaxed, this, well, this horny? Fortunately it had been weeks since Geralt had last pushed himself on her, leaving her open to only think about Rene.

One could almost forget, starved for each other as they were, that there would be a bittersweet parting come the morning. How desperately he wished to peel every layer from her so that his touch could scout the familiar dips and valleys of her body, but as Ettie’s stomach clearly reminded them both that sustenance was required.

Rene chuckled softly, squeezing her gently, All in good time my sweet, he reassured her. Her pulse thrummed against his fingertips, that skipping beat held in check much like his own. It is the dream, that one day, will be a reality. Believe me, my darling. Soon this will be our everyday. Then with sharp tut his eyes rolled. My Father would argue that, finally, I learn the art of patience.

Turning over the bread to cook enough that achieved her desired runny basket he soon plated up the light dinner, raising the food high like a high end waiter at the La Garre, his free hand encouraging her to return to her chair with a playful slow spin. Eat, my precious, I’ll fix myself something and clean up, pushing her clasped hand away encouragingly.

I’ll move around wickedly, tease you while you savour our cooking, dessert will be sublime, I promise you, flashing her a wink before he turns suggestively back to the bench to make himself something.

Rene, despite the heavy emotions and the intensity of the reunion, managed to infuse their meal with playful banter and tender gestures, a testament to his unwavering love for her. The simple act of making a meal together, something so mundane and ordinary, became a shared experience filled with meaning and affection. Their laughter and whispered confessions filled the room, a sweet melody that drowned out the thunderous storm outside.

As she watched him cook, Claude found herself falling in love with Rene all over again. His gentle mannerisms, his playful teasing, the way he looked at her with so much affection—each of these gestures reminded her of why she'd risked everything to be with him, even if only for a little while.

She savored each bite of the meal, finding comfort in the familiar flavors. With every glance she gave him, her love for him deepened. This simple, stolen moment was a precious reminder of their shared dreams and hopes, a beacon of light in the midst of the storm.

Claude, feeling a mix of anticipation and relief, looked at Rene with a soft smile. The warm aroma of the freshly cooked eggs filled the air, a comforting contrast to the formality and pretense she was used to. She reached out, gently touching his hand as he placed the plate before her.

Rene, you've outdone yourself again, she said, her voice filled with affection. It feels like a lifetime since we last had a moment like this. Every time we're together, I remember what true happiness feels like.

She paused, her eyes locking onto his, her expression growing more serious but equally tender.

Let's make the most of this time. I want to hear everything about your day, your thoughts, your dreams... It's in these stolen moments that I find my strength to keep going. Thank you for always being my sanctuary.

She squeezed his hand, her touch lingering, conveying the depth of her gratitude and love.

@René Louis Dumont

He breezed through making his own meal, deliberately on occasion posturing in such a way to garner a laugh, hear that melody that he craved in the twilight hours when his mind rebelled.

His eyes would roll at her praise, It’s merely eggs and bread my dear, chuckling as he savoured the last few bites of his own portion. It is in the simple things where true happiness lies, taking her plate and leaving them on the side to be washed later, reapproaching and sliding a hand along one of her shoulders to the other, bending at the knee to squeeze her into his side.

Her words caused his grin to flash into a smirk briefly, his brows wiggled and then resolved to be more serious given her semi-serious and tender expression. Every since I saw you in that dress at Luci’s wedding I have been plagued by ideas… My dear you are my Chantry. His forehead pressed against hers, his free hand reaching to grasp one of hers, his thumb running over the skin in small circles.

Letting out a sigh the professor pulled back to kiss her, softly, vulnerable and drawn out until her lips would part from his to gasp. Woman you are my undoing, my beginning and end. My days are numb and without colour or melody without you in it. Our moments are not stolen, but reclaimed, and the rest will come in time.

He took her hand, raising it to his lips to begin planting a number of soft brushes before tugging her upwards to stand, his other arm snaking it’s way around her middle, then lower, gathering the fabrics of her dress. In a swift motion Rene lifted her into his arms, cradling her close. Let me remind you of the equation of attraction.