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unknownmusing · 1 year

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The Witcher Fanstory - Ioroche Fic: ‘When Something Between Two People Becomes Something More' (Revised Version)- (Parts 1 to 4)

Summary:

After Vernon Roche and Iorveth share a drunken moment together, Iorveth doesn't know that Vernon is hiding the fact he has become pregnant with the elf's child/children so both them have to learn how to cope with the fact it is time to raise a baby when Iorveth discovers that Vernon is bearing his child/children when is told by Vernon's closest second-in-command Ves - who is concerned about Roche - that her commander has been acting extremely odd ever since coming back from Flotsam.

So what is going on with Vernon Roche? And can Iorveth discover what his sworn enemy is hiding from him?

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PART 1 - Prologue - "It all starts with...some words"

Location - Flotsam, Cáelmewedd - Approaching Late Evening

"You are a bastard....Pointy eared bastards...."

Vernon Roche - Commander of the Blue Stripes and King Foltest's lackey - mutters under his breath, speech slurring so much it indicates to Iorveth - Leader of the Scoia'tael - who sits next to the man - who's face is flushed with a distinct blush on his cheeks - holding in one hand a bottle of wine, while the other rests on his thigh holding his kneecap.

"Old man...."

Hearing this comment, makes his cheek twitch slightly at the audacity of being called 'Old man' by a drunken Dh'oine who is also his closest enemy and long-term rival in life, but here the both of them are seating together in the Elvish ruins of Cáelmewedd - drinking over bottle of very strong Elvish wine which to any human could easily make them drunk - close by to a statue of the Elvish male and his female Human lover, covered in what were called the Roses of Remembrance.

"Iorveth...." He hears Vernon starting to say to him, making him look down still irritated though at being called by Vernon 'Old man' because he resented being called it by anyone, it was one thing which irked him and reminded him of conservations which he would have with his men who would ask him why hadn't he found a...Mate...yet - because in Elvish Culture, a male produced eggs - actual eggs - which a female elf would take and fertilise over time through continuous mating with their bonded Mate, until finally a child or children was born.

But sometimes the rare case would happen where an elven male would impregnate a male human, sadly Iorveth though knew that those elves who had mated with the male humans were soon harshly murdered or made to disappear or become banished by the Elder Elvish Council who decreed that Elf had in their own fault violated the Elvish Culture Rules - that any Elvish male would be punished if caught mating with human male.

"Huh?"

Looking down at the other man, he sees that the Dh'oine has decided to slip half of his body onto his lap, a strange smile on his face and such a cute blush it makes Iorveth's heart skip a beat at it then says the next words which nearly short-circuit or feel like it does his brain-cells.

"I really want to be pregnant with an elf baby.....Would you want it too?"

Iorveth finds himself starting to internally panic, the situation them just sharing a mutual drink before going back being enemies is getting out of hand and goes to bring up the bottle of nearly finished wine to his lips, hoping Vernon Roche will realise what he is saying and what he is wanting Iorveth to do and go back to his normal self - them avoiding each-other, before clashing again with swords or fists, while their men confronted each-other around them.

This man was his enemy - a Dh'oine - who he hated for killing quite a lot of his men, including other Elvish groups who been fighting the humans who had encroached on their territories.

"Fuck.....you are a handsome...elf....Iorveth..."

The man continues, making Iorveth lower the bottle back down from touching his lips when he hears this - maybe it was a good thing he was hearing this, because if were someone else they might just wave it off and tell Roche he was drunk and should go and sober up.

"If your cock would be inside of me.....should be...great..."

Placing the bottle of the unfinished wine down onto the ground, Iorveth turns slightly to face Vernon Roche taking hold of the other man's chin to tilt it up so he can stare into the gentle hazel-brown eyes, stroking a thumb over those fine, kissable lips seeing how they quiver under the touch with quite, yet audible to his hearing a small breathless gasp escaping from the other man.

He knew that the both of them may regret this decision, but part of him had always wanted Vernon Roche - have him as a Mate, someone to kiss, hug and laugh with at mundane things - and before he even is having second thoughts about maybe he should pull back - tell Roche it is time to sober up and go their separate ways - he bends his head down to cover the other man's lips with his.

Not knowing at the time, he is setting something in motion between them both.

Something which would change both their lives forever.

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PART 2 - 'Memory of an Intimate Moment, First Signs and Tension in the Camp'

Past: Location - Flotsam, Cáelmewedd - Late Evening

The ruined Elvish baths, which are hidden underground beneath the statue of Eldan and Cymoril - a male elf and his human female lover - have never had for generations any disturbance, until now.

Clothing lays close to a stone-carved bench, while close to what had been a blocked of entrance to the baths there is rock-face where a large bunch of crimson roses grows on it and water trickles down into large half arch-way shaped bath where placed up against the rim of the bath, Vernon Roche without his chaperon on mewls and moans breathlessly when the other person - he doesn't know who it is, the wine he had having been strong it is difficult to concentrate fully - undulates their hips back and forth into his from behind.

One of their hands rest on his abdomen and their free hand on his hip gripping it tightly, with the water of the Elvish bath sloshing around both their bodies, while he feels them slip in and out of his moist, wet petals of his flower.

He never called it 'cunt' or 'pussy' like some people would call it, when he had a brief fumble with them - but never allow them to penetrate him at all - because it felt degrading to even call it that.

Turning his head he looks over his shoulder at the person pounding into him, seeing the smirking grin showing on their face when he starts to undulate his own hips back into their thrusts spreading pleasure sparking throughout his body each-time they give a intense thrust.

Never has he felt this way before, not even with his own toys he would use to satisfy himself when alone. It is so intense, wonderful and tempting to just have it not stop.

They soon lift him to hold against their chest, their hand which been resting on his hip to come up to cup his chin where they bend down to cover his lips in a devouring kiss it makes him respond back with equal enthusiasm and other moving down to between his thighs to rub his flower's petals in such a way it makes him release a spurt of his dew onto the fingers pleasuring him.

They continue to move within him, pleasuring him now from both ends sliding their cock harder and faster in and out of his wet, moist petals and sliding their fingers up and down his petals from the front.

Slapping of skin against skin, the slick squelch each-time his dew from his petals continuously - never has ever Vernon been this wet before for anyone, even when they touched him - and the breathless mewls, gasp and pants begin to fill the Elvish bath ruins.

"Haa haaa.....Don't stop.....please don't stop....haa haa."

He pants out to them, knowing he is coming close to a climax which has started to build up when he pulls his lips back to rest his forehead against their own.

Only just before it hits, they pull away from him turning him around to face them pushing him to lay half on the pattern tiled floor with his legs hanging over the edge into the water then they push back into him in one single thrust.

Hands grab hold of his legs to hold in the crook of their elbows, spreading him apart as they continue to pound into him shoving his body up and down he finds himself writhing heavily, hands unclenching and clenching and head turned to one side with his mouth agape.

The climax builds up again, finally reaching in blinding whiteness which blossoms outwards all over his body at the sametime hearing a grunt above him, a rush of something round-shaped filling him, alongside a gush of his dew spurting between their conjoined bodies.

"Vernon....."

He hears a breathless whisper, a large hand reaching up to cup his cheek - a thumb stroking his cheekbone lightly - and a single, emerald eye coloured like the leaves of the forest looking down at him.

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Present: Location - Toussaint, Corvo Bianco - Early Morning

Ves - second-in-command of the Blue Stripes - finds her stopping on the crest of hill close by to where the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia, who she been introduced through a series of events after the death of King Foltest - lived, seeing down below the workers going about doing their daily jobs in the vegetable and herb patch; the vineyard and the stable where she knew Roach - Geralt's faithful horse was housed.

Soon spotting coming up from the wine cellar, which also housed an laboratory for Witcher Potions, is the white-haired man closely followed by another man with silvery-white hair, a satchel over their shoulder and fingerless gloves laughing at something Geralt tells them.

Deciding to head down the path which leads down to Corvo Bianco, she wonders if her Commander - Vernon Roche - has come back from Flotsam - where he told Ves that he needed to wrap up some things before coming to Toussaint which she knew involved trying to find out whether the rebel Scoia'tael leader Iorveth - no last name as far as she knew - had arrived yet.

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Vernon Roche finds himself splashing his face with water, trying to calm his heart which pounds against his rib-cage the conversation which him and Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy - or Regis as he was known by closest friends and Geralt, who he had noticed seemed to more than friends with the man but he was not going to pry into Geralt's private life as it was none of his business - had, after he been found by the man being violently sick in way which reminded him of morning sickness.

"Have you realised you are pregnant."

"You're.....lying....I'm.....just sick.."

"Look at me, you know.....that not to be true, Vernon Roche."

"I....can't....can't.....be..."

At the time during their conversation, Vernon had realisation that ultimately he must have become pregnant during what he began to remember what had been a strange, drunken and intimate moment with his sworn enemy - the Scoia'tael leader Iorveth.

Followed by few days, feeling feverishly sick and extremely drained of all energy to move, that he had huddled up in a Nest of blankets trying to keep warm.

Coming out the memory of it, he raises himself up to look in the bath-chamber mirror, embarrassment flooding onto his face when he remembers the drunken words he said to the Aen Seidhe elf:

"I really want to be pregnant with an elf baby.....Would you want it too?......Fuck.....you are a handsome...elf....Iorveth.........If your cock would be inside of me.....should be...great."

Moving his hand down to his slightly swollen abdomen - which is starting to show through his clothing - he rests it where a child or children are starting to grow within his womb - like the seed of a flower starting to grow in the ground - making him happy, pleased and yet, very afraid he was bearing for the very first time.

He always wanted a child or children, but knew would be ostracized because of that fact he was male with a female sex if had asked his past partners that wanted to start a family so never revealed that to them, just allowed them to pleasure him - though no penetration ever would happen.

"....Fuck it...." He swears under his breath, realising he has done something his mother before she had disappeared that he should never allow to happen - which was become pregnant. "...What do I do?"

The thought even aborting the child or children makes Vernon sick at the thought, having been told of cases of poor women who not being able to cope with having another child or had been forced to have another by husband who they been married off to by their family would go somewhere - an island or forest or a abandoned hut - to abort the child.

But would Iorveth want the child or children?

How far could he go without telling other people before it was too late?

Hearing voices speaking coming from downstairs, he walks over to the balcony of the bed-chamber to look down into the main hallway where he sees it is Ves - his second-in-command - standing with Regis and Geralt nearby the open front door, until finally she spots him looking down at them all.

"There you are. Was wondering if you had fallen asleep or something else." Ves says up to him, indicating he is not wearing is chaperon and his hair all untidy and mussed up. His clothing looks rumpled like he had slepted in it.

"Vernon, come on down and get something to eat." Geralt indicates to him, making him move to head down the stair, briefly sorting his clothes - which were starting to fray in certain areas, the dull white and blue colour fading and the fingerless gloves needing to be changed - before he does so.

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Location - Toussaint, Caed Myrkvid - still Early Morning

The mist-shrouded forest of Caed Myrkvid which is located within the borders of Toussaint reminds Iorveth, while he walks to the makeshift Scoia'tael camp which had been set up in clearing in the middle of the forest by remnants of his men - most of them having come from Flotsam, after what had happened there.

Isengrim Faoiltiarna - another Aen Seidhe, who was known as the Iron Wolf and known as one of the most experienced members of the Scoia'tael commanders - is standing talking to his own group of men - so different from Iorveth's men, being more violent towards any humans they confronted who were against non-humans - then having must have sensed him approaching the camp, the scarred elf commander turns to look over his shoulder at him.

He knew the look he is being given is a familiar one - one which implied Isengrim was angry about something that had happened and wanted him to come over. Willing his heart to thudding against his rib-cage, he walks up to the other Aen Seidhe placing the deer which he hunted down on the ground close to the fire.

"I heard a very interesting rumour...Iorveth....which would like you to confirm for me." Isengrim says, shooting out a hand to jerk him flush against the other elf's chest it makes Iorveth try to get free from the strong grip, only for sharp Elven fangs to bite down into his neck - where his intricate leaf tattoo spread downwards under his makeshift armour - forcing to his shame and horror a whimper to escape him.

This stops his struggling, followed by one his hands which he been gripping tightly the other elf's arm loosening to fall to his side limp, feeling the venom - as all elf's had in in the fangs which was used for either biting or used in the Bonding Process between Mates - starting to make him feel sluggish, that when Isengrim pulls off his neck all he can do his moan weakly at it.

"Fuck....you...." He grunts out, hearing his own men behind him begin to confront Isengrim's men managing to get free to stumble into the arms of his men, who catch him when his legs nearly collapse from underneath him. "....I told you....I don't belong to you, Isengrim. What we had is over between us and I meant it at the time and still mean it."

"Oh, you....really think that." Isengrim purrs out, coming up to pull him out of his men arms and flings him to his own men who grab hold of Iorveth - chuckling among themselves - to hold back, while Isengrim looks at him then grabs the youngest of Iorveth's men - a young elf who had joined him after losing his family to the Witch Hunters, who also in the spare time hunted elves for sport - to bring him front of Iorveth, who is now being forced to kneel on the ground.

"What is your name, young'un?" He hears Isengrim asking them, seeing how the young elf is starting to quiver with fear at the intimidation of the elder elf and tries to communicate silently to them not to reveal their name but it is to no avail.

"Isi.." they shakily reply, watching Isengrim walk around them - inspecting them - and back around to stand in front of them, flicking his gaze to Iorveth who sees the other elf has moved his hand to place on his sheathed knife.

"Isengrim, don't...please..." Iorveth says, trying in vain to stop Isengrim from doing what he is about to do. "He's....not part of this. He doesn't know anything."

"Oh...are you saying something, Iorveth." Isengrim mocks him, bringing out the knife from the sheathe starting to play with it, the sunlight glinting off of it. "Should we see what, Isi, knows then."

Iorveth cannot let this happen. Bringing one elbow up, he slams it into the face of one of the elf's - breaking their nose in the process, hearing the crunch of bone under his elbow and their pained cry - and kicking the other one away in the stomach, scrambling upwards onto his feet.

Isengrim has not been fazed by this, just grabs hold of the young elf placing them in front of him to face Iorveth immediately slashing the throat in one single fluid movement, sending crimson petals up into the air.

"Isi..." Iorveth cries out, taking hold of him when Isengrim pushes the young elf with the bleeding neck wound into his arms and lowering him to the ground gets a piece of fabric - ripping it to make two pieces - then wraps it around the young elf's neck tightly to staunch the flow of blood, only for Isengrim to come up behind placing the bloodied knife against his throat.

Flicking his single gaze to the other elf, he removes his hands from finishing tying the makeshift bandage - which thankfully has staunched the flow of blood - and getting up, allows him to be lead away to Isengrim's large tent.

Behind him, his men pick up their fallen comrade to take him their side of the camp making Iorveth pray to Melitele that Isi will survive.

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Location - Toussaint, Corvo Bianco - still Early Morning

Marlene de Trastamara - a former baroness - or Marlene as she was called by Geralt is busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast, while Roche sits outside on a bench - one hand resting on his abdomen - watching Ves doing some sword-fighting training with Geralt in the courtyard, while Regis sits beside him quietly reading a book flipping the pages silently.

"Regis, do you happen to know of any good tailors in Toussaint?" Roche asks the other man, seeing Regis flick his gaze to him still in reading the Horticultural chapter on very important medicinal herbs. "One....who can be discrete enough not to talk about their customers to other people."

"Hmm, I know of an elf called Elihal who lives actually relatively close by to Corvo Bianco. They moved here after things started to get a bit intense in Novigrad." Regis replies, bringing a hand up to tap his chin in thought. "I can take you to see them if you wish."

Roche at first wonders if it is good idea - knowing of course among the Elvish community Vernon Roche was known as the killer of elves; Foltest's Lackey and other names which were just as damming and slanderous - and second, the possibility this elf Elihal may not know of his dark past could be to his advantage.

"When do we leave?"

"Now if you want to."

"I think that's....a good idea."

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PART 3 - Questions Answered, Finding Out One is a Father and Sharing an Intimate Moment

Location - Toussaint, Elihal's New Residence - Approaching Mid-Morning

"Regis....my friend. What brings you here?"

"I brought with me a friend who is in need of some discretion, while their clothes are tailored."

"I see. May I ask who they are?"

Standing behind the lattice arched doorframe, Roche, takes into account the area which leads into main area of Elihal's Residence where the elf show-cases their designs - tailored to all needs - with the other portion of the shop, been created into living quarters with a large sitting area, kitchen and double doors allowing access to a substantial garden.

The former abandoned cottage feels almost homely, comfortable and filled with warmth thanks to it's new owner bringing life into it: there are various coloured flowers placed in the vases, mixed with some types of grasses and herbs giving an aesthetic style to them; fine-woven carpets with such intricate details they are feat in themselves and finally above there is an alcove where some makeshift wooden steps lead to the sleeping quarters.

Regis - the other man - finishes talking with the effeminate male elf, before coming around the lattice arched doorframe to collect Roche, gently taking hold his arm to lead him into the main area where most of the tailoring happened.

"Vernon Roche, scourge of the Scoia'tael and slayer of Elves." they state when seeing him, while Roche keeps his head down to stare at the carpet when a delicate hand reaches to his chin to tilt it up gently so he looks at the elf. "Don't worry, that is your past and something to move on from. What your concern was you need a tailor with discretion, sweetie, and I'm always discrete about my customers."

"I was afraid....because of..." Roche begins to say, only for finger to placed on lips shushing him indicating for him to speak no more and let Elihal get on with the task of tailoring to his needs.

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Standing in front of the four mirrors angled at certain degrees, so that Elihal can see what they are doing Roche in his white undershirt and braies allows himself to be quietly measured.

Regis has left, after stating he needed to run some errands and will be back to come and collect him by mid-morning. This was so, both of them could walk back together to Corvo Bianco for lunch which Marlene - Geralt's cook - would be preparing right at this very moment.

"You seem lost in thought. Is something troubling you?" Elihal asks him, standing up to go other to where his clothing lays and a notepad where they jot down his measurements into it.

"I....Is it wrong to have been intimate with an elf if their part of a certain group?" Roche asks, forcing Elihal to still in finishing off jotting down the notes and turn to face him, flicking their gaze to his abdomen making him consciously put his both his hands over it to cover it from their gaze.

"Among the Scoia'tael, if your asking about that particular group, they have rules which decree that any elf who lays with human will be banished or made to disappear or the worse scenario murdered by order of the Elvish Elders." Elihal replies, going over where the fabrics and other necessary equipment are stored to choose what they need.

"And....if the human is male?" Roche asks, his mind flashing back to when after the intimate moment which had happened, Iorveth had cupped his cheek stroking his cheekbone lightly whispering something in Elvish which sounded like 'My darling, Mate' but at the time had been difficult to tell.

"Then....this may complicate matters." Elihal replies, setting up their sewing machine and getting spool of thread from a drawer. "You....might want to confer with them if they wish to keep the child or children starting to grow within you."

Looking down at his slightly swollen abdomen covered by his white undershirt still finds himself silently agreeing that at some point he would have to tell the Scoia'tael leader about the pregnancy.

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Location - Toussaint, Corvo Bianco - Approaching Mid-Morning

Iorveth can feel the looks of the workers among the vineyards, vegetable and herb and in the courtyard of Corvo Bianco when he approaches the residence of Gwynbleidd - or Geralt of Rivia - seeing the white-haired man is finishing off some sword-fighting training with short-haired blonde female, who he recognises as Vernon Roche's second-in-command called Ves.

"Gwynbleidd." He calls out, making Geralt who had been going to head up to the home turn to see who had called him followed by smile appearing on the Witcher's face.

"Iorveth, I didn't know you were in the area." Geralt says, pulling him into a greeting embrace seeing over the Witcher's shoulder Ves is giving a particular look to him "I would like to talk to you in private." which makes Iorveth wonder what the human female was wanted to say to him that she didn't want Gwynbleidd overhearing.

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Ves admits to herself that she feels only slightly intimidated by the presence of the Scoia'tael Leader Iorveth who has arrived at Corvo Bianco, surprising Geralt's own workers - who probably never seen an elf being so brazen to approach their own Master who had given them jobs, when other richer Lords or Ladies would shun them due to their disabilities; sexuality or their mental state wasn't to their par.

"You wished to talk, female Dh'oine." the elf says, walking up to a viewing area which overlooked Corvo Bianco and going up to large oak tree to lean against it, while getting out a pipe from his pouch to quietly smoke.

"It's about....my Commander - Roche." Ves tells Iorveth, who raises an eyebrow at her, probably expecting the conversation to be about someone they both know. "Ever since he came back from....Flotsam....he's been well acting odd."

"How....odd....precisely?" Iorveth asks her, taking a drag of his pipe and blowing out wreathes of smoke up into the air where spirals upwards until dissipating away.

Ves, finds herself thinking back to after Roche had returned from Flotsam he started acting self-conscious around even the rest of the Blue Stripes - or even different types of people in places they stopped by before heading onto Toussaint - flinching when someone brushed up against him or tried to flirt with him, their hand reaching to his hip or close to his lower half making him push them away with the words "I'm not in the mood."

"Flinching at touch, is avoiding talking to me and the rest of the Blue Stripes then of course, he was very sick this morning." She replies to Iorveth, then continues. "Strange, though it reminded me of when a woman realises she is...No...he probably is just not feeling well."

Lifting her head, she notices the Scoia'tael Leader has gone very pale in the face - like they have just realised something which she didn't know about - and a faint blush is showing - implying it was an intimate moment he was remembering.

"Well, that's.....thank you for telling me, Ves." Iorveth says to her, indicating he needs to have some time alone to think.

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Iorveth feels like his mind is whirling at what he has just been told by Roche's second-in-command leaning his head back against the tree-trunk of the large oak tree realising there was only one thing which was why Roche would be acting odd.

His enemy, now permanent mate was bearing his child or children.

"I'm a...Father.....a Father...." He mutters under his breath, happy and elated at the thought of it, but at the sametime if Isengrim - his jealous ex-lover - got wind that he managed to impregnate a human male Dh'oine then Roche and their unborn child or children could be slaughtered by the other elf.

His body still ached from when Isengrim had forced himself on him, fangs sinking into his nape to subdue him and bruises on his hips where he had been gripped tightly while he had been shoved back and forth over the sleeping bed in Isengrim's tent, until finally he had felt the sickly warmth of the other's elf seed being released within him.

It taken using a waterfall to scrub the feeling away afterwards, the evidence of what had transpired.

Iorveth decides not to dwell on that particular memory, taking another drag of his pipe to calm himself - the herbs in the pipe batch being ones which gave a relaxing feeling to one - and blowing it into the air, when he senses something behind him.

Flicking his gaze up, he sees a person wearing black with well-manicured hands and intense blues, before they silently indicate to him to look at the courtyard which does so, seeing down below Roche arriving with another person - their strange scent making Iorveth curious about them - then goes to look back to see about the other person who had been behind him, only seeing no-one is now there.

Muttering an Elvish swear under his breath he heads down to the courtyard, deciding to greet Roche and this mysterious person who may know who he had briefly just seen before they had vanished into thin air.

Returning back to Corvo Bianco, Roche feels far more comfortable in his altered clothing - the blue more distinct with he had noticed had faint emerald ferns sewn into it which only showed when he turned a certain way in the light, while the white was no longer dirty looking but clean white and the red laces re-threaded.

His fingerless gloves had been fixed as well, while he finds himself stopping by the archway which lead into the courtyard of Corvo Bianco to just take a breather, seeing Regis has gone up ahead to greet Geralt and another male with short-cut black hair.

"Vernon...." someone says from behind him, making him look over his shoulder to see that who is standing close behind him is Iorveth. "....May we talk?"

"About what?" Roche asks, evading the question when he fully turns to face the elf - the elf he had laid with during a drunken moment, which part of him regretted shouldn't had happened but the other side - a motherly side of him - had wanted it - who steps up to him, taking hold of his arm flicking his gaze to up to where Geralt and Regis, plus the third person are.

"Not here. I rather talk where we not be overheard." Iorveth says, placing a hand around his hip to lead him away from Corvo Bianco to somewhere the elf wishes to discusses something of importance.

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Location - Toussaint, Corvo Bianco - Abandoned Farmstead - Approaching Mid-Morning

"How did you find out?"

"Ves, gave subtle hints you were acting odd."

"Dammit, I....should have known she would notice."

"Vernon, look at me..."

Lifting his head up to look into the single emerald eye, he feels Iorveth, who has pushed him back to place up against the brick-wall of a abandoned farmstead, slipping a flower behind his ear, covered by his chaperon.

The gentle act of the action, makes him lean up pressing a kiss to Iorveth's lips to test the elf's reaction - finding none, not pulling away from him or even shoving him off - where Iorveth moves a hand around his waist to pull him flush against his chest starting to kiss him back.

Bringing his hand up he rests it lightly on Iorveth's arm, melting into the kissing where their lips move against each-other's until a tongue flicks over them begging admittance which he allows.

This sparks something, where he is lifted up away from the wall and laid down on a bed of moss close by to some small white flowers, ferns and tall grasses with Iorveth, devouring his lips as their tongues entwine with his now lover changing position each-time to deepen it.

Until finally both of them release their lips to look at each-other, both their chests rising and falling heavily under their armour with a strand of glistening saliva connecting their swollen lips, while Roche lifts his hand up to reach for the bandanna which covers Iorveth's right eye.

Only for a gloved hand taking hold of his wrist, before his fingers even touch the bandanna, pinning it down onto the ground, moving to interlace their fingers together when Iorveth bends his head back down to kiss him on the neck - trailing his lips up and down, giving soft kitten licks and nips.

Tilting his head backwards to expose his throat more, Roche finds himself gasping breathlessly, squeezing back with his own fingers when his lover finds a sensitive spot on his neck which when his past flings would caress it with their lips it made his body melt into mind-numbing pleasure - but here with Iorveth now, it is wave after wave of it.

"Haaa....I want you."

"Patience.....let me savour this. I wish to get to know your body before becoming fully intimate with you, Vernon."

"Then your a first....previous flings..."

"Don't mention them...I'm here now."

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Unlacing his fingers from Vernon's, Iorveth begins to peel of his lover's gambeson taking great care not to ruin it - seeing it has been adjusted and re-tailored since he last saw it, followed by when moving the outer layer the emerald ferns which glint briefly in the sunlight - a signature he recognised that of which Elihal, who was considered an outcast by the Elvish Elders, created only for people they considered special costumers - to place to one side.

Underneath the white tunic, he sees the slightly swollen abdomen where his child or children are starting to grow within making him bunch up the tunic to kiss it lightly with his lips noticing Vernon biting his bottom lip with a full blush forming on his cheeks when he does so and covering his face with one arm.

It is adorable.

"Don't hide your face from me." Iorveth says, slipping up to look down at the man who has rolled onto his side and taking hold of Vernon's chin to turn his face so the other man looks at him. "If your afraid, we can stop now and....continue some other time."

"I....No....I don't want you to stop. I....want you now. Not later or another time." Vernon tells him, one hand reaching up to take hold of the back of his head, fisting into his bandanna and lips pressing up against his.

Reassured he moves his hand to slip it down Vernon's waist to slip the black braies down that the other man takes hold of his hand to slip it between his thighs where Iorveth feels the petals covered in dew which is starting to trickle down the inside of his lover's thighs.

--------

Being touched intimately by Iorveth was something Roche would never imagined happening even though he fantasised what it would be like to have the elf kiss, hold or caress him in such a way he would be physically sated afterwards.

Now it was happening, with a hand between his thighs moving in such a way he breathlessly mewls at the feeling of Iorveth's fingers which been caressing his outer petals delve into his inner petals to slide in and out Roche begins to rock his hips into it.

Licking his lips to wet them, when he pulls back to look at Iorveth noticing the elf's face has become intensely flushed with his lips swollen from their kissing and watches when his lover brings the hand which between up to his lips, lapping the dew coating them.

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"Fuck.....Vernon.....you....your taste.." Iorveth pants out, placing his hand back down between his lover thighs to thoroughly feel Vernon's gushing flower sliding his fingers in and out as between his own thighs his arousal is becoming so painful and persistent he removes his hand to start to remove his armour.

Once he has done so, he sees Vernon has slipped off a boot to slip one leg out of his braies allowing him to hook his lover's thigh up in the crook of his elbow indicating to the other man to keep it up then pushes his hips upwards, sliding his cock into the moist petals of Vernon's flower in one single thrust.

A soft breathless cry reaches his ears, causing a hand shooting to grip his hip tightly until relaxing when both of them take in being intimate after so long.

"Vernon..."

"Iorveth....kiss me."

A kiss is given, followed by a scarlet bandanna joining a black chaperon on top of the piles of clothes, a mixture of gasps, moans and mewling filling the abandoned farmstead until finally both of them lay there beside eachother catching their breaths, sweat which had formed trickling down both their bodies and foreheads resting against each-other's.

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PART 4 - Aftermath of Intimate Moment, Alone Once More, Captured Ves and Concern arising for the Safety of One's Unborn Child or Children

Location - Toussaint - Abandoned Farmstead close to Corvo Bianco - after Mid-Morning

"How does it feel to be pregnant with an elf child, Vernon?"

Feeling Iorveth who stands just beside him slip a hand around his waist to rest on his slightly swollen abdomen, Roche finds himself pausing in lacing up his unlaced white tunic and gambeson with his black braies hanging around his thighs waiting to be pulled up, making him place a hand on the elf's shoulder.

"S...Screw...you...Haa.."

He pants out, not meaning to say it, still himself recovering from the aftershock of multiple orgasms which Iorveth made him experience, until finally overstimulation had made him indicate to his elf lover they needed to stop which they had done so.

There was also the fact the elf had released so much into him, it is beginning to trickle down the inside of his thighs and dripping into the inside of his black braies alongside the fact he been filled with what Iorveth had stated during their Mating were some more 'eggs' to help with the fertilisation process causing his already slightly swollen abdomen to swell more because of it.

Part of him feels embaressed at feel of the elf's seed trickling down the inside of his thighs, while the other half a perverse joy at being filled or claimed by his...lover....in this way.

"Don't deny you thought of being filled by me this way." Iorveth says, breath hot against Roche's ear it makes his cheeks flush again at the words. "Feel....me release into you, until finally pulling out to..."

"I need to get back to Corvo Bianco. The others will be wondering where we are and..." Roche says, evading in even saying something which admits to Iorveth that he had thought what it would be like and slipping away from the man, shrugs his black braies back up where sorting them goes to lace his white tunic and gambeson when Iorveth does it for him.

"I know..." Iorveth tells him, turning Roche around so he faces the elf helping him to lace up the gambeson stilling though when he goes to the final laces giving a heavy sigh which means he wishes to say something else but doesn't know if it is a good idea or not. "....I cannot return with you. I need to get back to...the camp."

"Iorveth...this....if we're discovered..." Roche begins to say, trying not think of the consequences if they are both found out. "I could be banished and you alongside our unborn child or children could be slaughtered." Iorveth continues for him, cupping both of his cheeks with both of his hands to kiss him on the forehead lightly it makes him close his eyes at the gentleness of it.

When he re-opens them Iorveth is gone, leaving him standing there in the abandoned farmstead.

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Location - Toussaint - Forest Path back to Corvo Bianco - still after Mid-Morning

Sunlight is filtering through the canopy of trees, illuminating different spots in the small forest which is close by to Corvo Bianco where Roche stops to lean against a tree, where he finds himself shifting his thighs in discomfort due to his soaked braies making themselves known.

He not expected Iorveth to release so much....seed...within him, it would gush down the inside of his thighs afterwards, while biting his bottom lip moves his gambeson to one side and reaching his black braies unlaces them to push slightly down to expose himself.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he slides a hand between his thighs. His breath hitches slightly when he touches himself - rubbing at first one finger over his moist, wet petals still coated in his elf's lover seed, until pushing it slowly within it makes him place one hand over his mouth to silence himself as he does so.

He is still wet within himself with his Iorveth's release, forcing him to spread his legs apart more in his black braies when he begins to finger himself - sliding the finger in and out of his moist, wet petals rubbing up the against the wee bud - until finally he can feel the tingling feeling begin to sneak it's way up his thighs.

Roche wants to be able to continue, but he pulls his hand away denying his climax knowing he must really get back to Corvo Bianco and slipping his black braies back up re-laces them.

Not knowing hidden the shadows a figure who been watching him, give a subtle smirk and their eyes gleam briefly with otherworldly light before heading off on their own way.

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Location - Toussaint, Caed Myrkvid - still after Mid-Morning

"How's Isi?"

"He's....slowly recovering. Where have you been?"

Ciaran aep Easnillen - Iorveth's second-on-command - asks him, when Iorveth pours some water into the wash-basin from a jug placed beside it then slipping his scarlet bandanna off, cups the water in his hands to splash his face noticing when he lowers his hands reflected in the mirror is Isengrim who immediately comes up to him.

This makes him turn, only to be harshly pinned up against the dresser by the other elf who looks at him with a glare which he responds with his own, while Isengrim bends his head down to his inhaling deeply.

Iorveth just prays he doesn't pick up the scent of Vernon on his skin, but it seems there is enough for the other elf to bare his fangs in displeasure he is coated in another scent - and not his own.

"Why do you smell of a human Dh'oine, Iorveth?!!" Isengrim asks, growling out the words - which tells Iorveth he only picked up that, but not who it is which is a good sign.

"Why would I want to smell like a filthy Dh'oine." Iorveth evades the question, managing to slip away, only for a hand to grab hold of him by his hair giving opportunity for the other elf to smash his lips into his or would have if weren't for Iorveth shouting at him. "NO!!!"

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he shoves Isengrim off of him hissing with fangs bared and claws lengthening to indicate to the other elf leader he will not be controlled this way.

"So, that's your answer." Isengrim says, just as one of his men steps within the tent, handing over to Isengrim what Iorveth sees is Vernon's Temerian Lilies badge which means Vernon had either dropped it or had come off his gambeson. "Well....here is mine."

Isengrim steps out of the tent, closely followed by muffled shouting when he comes back in dragging in the tied up figure of Vernon's second-in-command - Ves - who hissing and spitting every curse she knows at Isengrim, until she is flung down in front of Iorveth.

A pained cry comes from the female Dh'oine, making Iorveth heavily resist in moving to help her up, knowing it is just what Isengrim wants him to do - to acknowledge she was the one he had lain with - seeing Ves, sit up glaring at everyone in the tent.

-----------------

Location - Toussaint, Corvo Bianco - still after Mid-Morning

"Sir...Sir!!!?"

"Easy....calm down, what's happened?"

One of the many Vineyard workers who Roche, before Iorveth had led him away to the abandoned farmstead, had seen working away in the vineyards comes running up to Roche as soon as they see him, heading to the front door which opens to reveal Geralt - all kitted out in his Witcher gear, busy sorting the sword straps before - who lifts his head up to see what the fuss is all about.

"Roche, your just in time." Geralt says, confusing Roche even further when the Witcher heads down to the stables where his trusted mare Roach is housed. " Ves, went to go and look for you and Iorveth when you didn't return at mid-morning. She's not come back and rumours have spread about in the rural areas among farmers and travelling merchants a rogue band of Scoia'tael are attacking humans - not giving any mercy."

"I....didn't mean to be gone so long." Roche says, swearing heavily that his second-in-command would of course get suspicious in why he was not back yet and the fact Iorveth had been the one to take him elsewhere. "I'm coming with you. Who knows what mess she has gotten into."

"I would advise against that." He hears the soothing, calm dulcet tones of Regis making him turn to glare at the other man, who somehow has silently sneaked up behind him without Roche even hearing any sound of his footfalls, who has joined them.

"Dammit to hell, Regis!!! She's my second-in-command and the best of the Blue Stripes who has been with me since the beginning!!! I cannot just abandon her to...being....killed!!!" Roche finds himself shouting, nearly swaying when light-headedness settles in because of his shouting, he feels Regis taking hold of him.

"Vernon, let me deal with this." Geralt tells him, making him shake his head - even though part of him knows he is being irrational in the situation. "Think, would Ves want you to get hurt saving her."

"I....She....No, of course not." He tells Geralt, turning his face to one side - embaressed he is acting rashly in front of his friend. "She's.....always held her ground even when the worst has happened to myself or any other member of the Blue Stripes."

"You do know she thinks of you as almost motherly-figure, Vernon." Regis tells him, letting go of his arms and come around to stand close to Geralt, who is busy getting Roach ready. "Sometimes....you just got to learn to let yourself have others help you."

Roche doesn't know how to respond to that, but knows he in the past kept others who wished to help away from him and only allowed Ves to give help, risking in the process nearly both their lives more than once.

"Just....bring her back safely."

"Of course, Vernon. Friends never abandon their allies."

Regis must have sensed he is getting tired because the other man - after quietly whispering something to Geralt, his hand squeezing the Witcher's arm lightly to reassure the white-haired man about something - comes up to lead Roche up into the house, where inside just near the stairs leading up to the quest bedroom he indicates to the other man he can head up himself.

"I'm fine. I...just to be alone for wee while if you don't mind, Regis." Roche says, heading upstairs when he nearly slumps against the wall just before reaching the landing feeling like his chest has become tight - like it is difficult to breathe all of a sudden - making him fist his hand into his gambeson.

"You overexerted yourself, Vernon." Regis says, catching him when Roche nearly slides down the wall and lifts him up - so easily, it is surprise the other man hides this kind of hidden strength - to carry him further up the stairs to the quest bedroom, where he is laid down on the bed.

Rolling to lay on his side, he listens to Regis pottering about in getting stuff out of his satchel, followed by the clinking of flasks, until finally a soft exclamation of "Ahh, there is it." comes from the other man, meaning he found what he been looking for.

"What is that?" He asks Regis, eyes flicking to the flask being held by the other man who comes around the bed placing it down on the bedside table.

"A herbal remedy to help pregnant women." Regis replies, taking out the stopper. "My own concoction though, due to the original remedy which had been created by a very unscrupulous un-named fake-herbalist doing far more harm than good from what I have gleaned from records on them."

"Regis, will it harm..." Roche begins to ask, placing a hand to his slightly swollen abdomen where Iorveth's eggs rest within forming their child or children - part of him hoped it wasn't just one child, because then she or he would have siblings to play with when older. "...Will it harm the....eggs?"

"I see." Regis complements this information, going back over to his satchel placed on the edge of the bed to get a leather-bound notebook - dog-eared and pages looking like have been re-sewed back into the binding so they don't fall apart or become loose - opening it, flicking through the pages until he comes to a paragraph which must be connected to another page in the notebook. "I had not thought about how the Elvish species mate and have their young."

Roche flushes heavily at the memory of the feel of Iorveth when he been within him - the steady throb and pulsating, followed by rush of warmth and the eggs filling him - with the elf, trembling over him with his tattooed chest rising and falling heavily, until kissing him before Roche could ask if he was alright.

"I....don't much about it either. Only what Iorveth has told me, but even that is sparse in details." He says, lying back down to place his head on the pillow, resting one hand on his slightly swollen abdomen. "Would you mind? I like to...."

"...Sleep. I perfectly understand." Regis says, placing the flask and notebook back into the satchel and coming over to slip a blanket over him before heading to the flight of steps. "I will see if can find any Elvish tomes, which may help us both."

He goes to thank the other man, only to see Regis has already headed off so settles back down even though deep concern is rising with him - the fact there might be a point where Iorveth might not be able to protect him and their unborn child or children.

At some point he was probably going be called to the court of Emperor Emhyr vat Emreis - *Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd - to discuss about events of what had happened at Loc Muinne where a peace summit of the Northern Kingdoms had meant to take place.

He also knew how powerful the man was - having spread over the lands of his enemies, swallowing everything up but leaving only certain regions to fight amongst themselves.

The problem was Nilfgaardian's views on certain things, meant if Iorveth ever followed him to the palace they would have to be careful they weren't found out.

He didn't know what they thought about the Elvish community, whether they hated them or lived in equal truce with them.

Plus if the Emperor got wind about his 'condition' he could find himself locked away in the deepest dungeon never to see the light of day again or Iorveth for that matter.

For the safety of their unborn child or children he prays deeply to Melitele it will never happen, before tiredness overcomes him pulling him soon into deep restful and undisturbed sleep.

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Notes:

Inspired by fan-art of the characters Vernon Roche and Iorveth by the artist @chamotea , who has such wonderful pieces of fan-art in their collection of posts that just love the design of them.

Sequel to the fic will deal fully with a Geralt/Regis/Dettlaff relationship, set after Blood and Wine DLC while there is brief reference to it in this fic hence the relationship tag.

Ves, second-in-command of the Blue Stripes begins to realise while visiting Toussaint to meet Geralt of Rivia at his home of Corvo Bianco (Elder Speech: Gwyn Cerbin) that something is wrong with Vernon Roche, who has arrived back from sorting out things in Flotsam. - 'Memory of an Intimate Moment and First Signs refer to Vernon, while 'Tension in the Camp' refers to Iorveth and Isengrim - Vernon doesn't want to reveal he is with child to those closest to him, after being told by Regis he is pregnant and swears the man into secrecy - CW: References to thoughts about abortion and mentions of abortion and mild Isengrim Faoiltiarna/Iorveth relationship which involves a possessive Isengrim not wanting to let go of Iorveth and elf interracial moments involving Isengrim and Iorveth's group fighting due to tension among both groups not liking each-other

Cáelmewedd (meaning Quiet Child in Elder Speech) - Caed Myrkvid is Elder Speech: Myrkvid Forest or Grove ("Myrkvid" itself deriving from Old Norse "myrkviðr" and meaning "dark wood", while "caed" comes from Welsh "coed" which means forest). - "Faoiltiarna" is broken Irish for "Wolf Lord", while "Isegrimm" (without the n) is a German poetic word for "Wolf".- Vernon's genitalia is considered as flower and petals, instead of cunt or pussy in this fic - Mention of Vernon having relationships in the past before he met Iorveth - Vernon doesn't know Regis is a vampire

They/Them/Their pronouns for Elihal - Roche asks about the Elvish Culture and Rules on being intimate with a Human - Iorveth meets with Ves when visiting Geralt at Corvo Bianco, where they discuss Roche and why the man is acting so odd- In Elder Speech Geralt is called "Gwynbleidd" (close to the Welsh translation "Blaidd Gwyn"), meaning the White Wolf - CW: References to non-consensual sex between Isengrim and Iorveth - Iorveth briefly meets Dettlaff - Chapter titles refer to 'Questions Answered' is Roche and 'Finding out One is a Father' is Iorveth, followed 'Sharing an Intimate Moment' is both Iorveth and Roche

Chapter titles refer to 'Aftermath of an Intimate Moment' is Iorveth and Roche, 'Alone Once More' is Roche and 'Captured Ves' is Iorveth, Ves and Roche and 'Concern arising for the Safety of One's Unborn Child or Children' is Regis and Roche- Vernon nearly overexerts himself when shouting at Regis - Isengrim thinks Ves is the human Iorveth mated with, so has captured her to try and force Iorveth to confess - Vernon is concerned about Ves and her safety - Regis is interested in Elvish Mating Rituals, only because he wishes to learn about other species and not for nefarious purposes- Definition of potter around/about: to spend time in a relaxed way doing small jobs and other things that are not very important

Emhyr var Emries also called in the Nilfgaardian language: *The White Flame Dancing on the Barrows of his Enemies), while known to a few under his alias as Duny, the Urcheon of Erlenwald (Polish: Jeż z Erlenwaldu)

Rest of chapters on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/40704318/chapters/101991279 if readers want to read ahead

Parts 1 to 4

Parts 5 to ? will be posted soon

For @chamotea, @apastandfuturenerd and other Ioroche Shippers out there

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