Author's note: I envision this being a four-part series. It will have some plot that goes beyond the usual smut.

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"Fucking Shani," Yennefer said as she plucked the reins of her horse. "Can you believe it?"

"No," Triss said slowly, "I cannot. I would have thought..."

She let the sentence hang in the air.

"Ploughing ginger slut," Yennefer said, her horse speeding up to a gallop. "Sorry," she added a moment later, casting an apologetic glance back at her friend.

It was indeed unbelievable: when forced to choose between the two of them, both accomplished and beautiful, Geralt had instead chosen the medic, a simple girl from the slums of Vizima who was as plain-looking as she was simple and naive.

"What does he see in her?" Triss wondered, not for the first time. She had long known men were not entirely comfortable with beauty and power, odd as that may sound. Though she had her fill of suitors, over time her magical powers and political influence made most men insecure and, when it came down to it, the vast majority of men preferred to couple with their inferiors, the sort of simple country girls who went wide-eyed at the sight of a witcher's sign.

She drew on the reins of her steed to catch up with Yennefer.

It had been a long time since Triss spent the afternoon on horseback and she found herself growing tired. Usually, there was little reason avoid using portals, Geralt's morbid paranoia about them notwithstanding; but portals could be detected and the two of them were eager to keep their movements hidden.

They conceived of this trip a week ago, shortly after Yennefer stumbled onto an unexpected find in the archives of the academy at Oxenfurt. The two of them were putting together a transportation spell, something powerful enough to send hundreds of refugees across the length of the Northern Realms; and, though it was likely to be a lost cause, Yennefer insisted on looking over the Elven section of the academy's archive of ancient manuscripts. The Aen Seidhe were said to have been masters of this sort of magic, capable of sending masses of people not only across vast distances but even between worlds.

But an afternoon in the musty basement of the academy revealed little of value. Elven manuscripts were full of information but it ranged from the trivial to the cryptic; not entirely unexpected, since Yennefer was hardly the first to examine them. As her eyes passed over page after page, she wove a thread of magic in the air, an old habit, something with no purpose besides giving her hands something to do. She was nearly ready to give up when she noticed one of the pages vibrating in tune with her magic.

Intrigued, she probed the parchment with scrying spells; before long, she discovered a note hidden magically within the margins. The ambient mana stored in the parchment must have been interfering with her idle spellwork. She spent a few minutes carefully peeling away the concealment spells layered upon the page before the letters began to appear one by one.

But the note itself turned out to be nonsensical, a seemingly random combination of letters and numbers. Written in code perhaps? Indeed it was: being schooled in the modern science of encryption, Yennefer had quickly figured out the simple letter transposition scheme which unscrambled the message.

Looking at what she had deciphered, she recognized an old dialect of Elven speech, dead for many hundreds of years. Not only was she ignorant of most of the words, even some of the roots were unfamiliar to her. She hesitated: was it really worth it to spend time translating it? But the thought of finding a hint of new magic, something unknown to the mages of the modern era, spurred her on; such things often brought great power to their discoverer. Availing herself of several linguistic tracts from the main wing of the library, it was some hours before she finally managed to make sense of the scribblings in the margin.

It turned out to be a terse set of directions. There were two sites in Skellige, each of which would contain an artifact, not described but presumably identifiable by its magical aura. These two artifacts would need to be brought together to a third location, where they would unlock a door within the "bowels of the earth," or so the note had said. The final words simply invited the reader to venture forth and prove himself worthy.

What was it all for? No explanation was given.

It was all very puzzling, but one hypothesis stood out, for the last location was near a sequence of inlets off the northern coast of Ard Skellig where the Diadem of Kovir was rumored to be lost. The diadem was supposed to be a power source, presented to the first king of Kovir by one of the dignitaries of the elder races, and it was said that the power within the diadem could amplify the casting strength of mage many times over; a magical apprentice on his first day had more spellpower with the aid of the diadem than the most experienced mage of the time. A number of generally reliable historical sources seemed to think of the diadem's existence as fact, though modern historians thought it more likely that the diadem was only a legend.

Assuming the stories were true: to have that much power would be....world-changing, Yennefer thought, it would be world-changing. Magic was infinitely powerful, but strong spells required much magical energy, limiting the spells that mages could cast. With that much power at her disposal...she would be able to murder Radovid or decimate the Nilfgaardian armies, as she chose, all with a single incantation.

Of course, it could all be a joke, a centuries-old prank played by some long-dead scholar on a gullible colleague.

Another thought occurred to her: she could search for the diadem alone, but what would happen if she failed, if, by some chance, she happened to perish along the way? Given the state of the world now -- the Nilfgaardian invasion, the slaughter of mages throughout the Northern Realms, the rise of the Church of the Eternal Fire -- the power in the diadem was too important, it needed to be used for good purpose regardless of whether she could be the one to use it.

She needed to share this knowledge with someone, someone she could trust. Someone who would aid her on her journey. She ran her mind over the possibilities and came up with only one name.

A week later here they were, galloping across the dusty roads beneath the mountains of Skellige.

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The sun had slowly drooped over the horizon as they rode and the forest around them, which seemed quaintly picturesque only an hour ago, had come to seem as if it was inhabited by shadows. The two of them could defend themselves well enough but there was no reason to invite trouble, and they stopped at the first inn they came across.

"nly've uneroom," the innkeep said. He was an old and wrinkly man and his eyes ran over them coldly. The customers, sitting at poorly-lighted tables and warily drinking mugs of ale, seemed on the rough side as well: torn and patched clothing, shaved heads, the glint of metal at their sides. Yennefer made sure to toss back the edge of her cloak and reveal the dagger at her side lest any here concoct a scheme to take advantage of them.

Fortunately, none accosted them as they made their way up the stairs to their lodging. The room itself was barely big enough for one guest; cold, sparsely furnished, and smelling like cleaning solution, it had only the single bed, though fortunately it looked to be sufficiently wide for the both of them.

"Men," Yennefer said as she sat down to unhook her boots. There was a finality to her tone which implied that no further elaboration was needed.

Triss sighed. A week ago Yennefer was refusing to speak to her and their interactions were confined to stiff discussions of matters of necessity; but now a shared misfortune had made friends of them again. She was glad, for she missed her friend, missed the heart-to-hearts they had and the adventures they had gone on together.

"We have both been entranced," Triss said mournfully.

Yennefer's eyes narrowed. "I have the djinn to thank for my obsession. What have you to blame?"

"Only myself," Triss replied. She turned her glance out the window, unable to meet Yennefer's eyes. "Something kindled within me whenever I remembered the two of you side by side, back in the old days."

"Perhaps," she went on, "our fling had less to do with him than it did with you; when I thought you had died..."

"Enough," Yennefer said. Turning to look her friend in the face, Triss noticed she did not seem upset.

"Let us never speak of him again," Yennefer said as she walked over and the two of them embraced in a warm hug, the first in many years. It was just like Yen: not a minute after she had brought up the subject, she was insisting they abandon it forever.

"It's late," Triss said and Yennefer nodded in assent. Wordlessly she cast the spell and a moment later she was standing nude over the bed arranging her pillow.

Triss stopped herself from gasping. Was this a hint, an invitation? Some of the sorceresses were rumoured to dally with other women but there were never any such rumours about Yennefer; if anything, she was always spoken of in terms of her connection to the witcher.

She let her glance run over Yen's body and found a wellspring of desire growing within her. She had a nice bottom, tight, perky, and Triss imagined cupping it with her hands. Her breasts were a bit smaller than her own but still a mouthful, and she wondered how they would feel in her hands, what it would be like to give them some gentle bites.

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Yennefer slipped under the blankets.

Uncertain of what her friend intended, Triss decided it was safest to return the gesture. She whispered the incantation and her own clothes disappeared; one more whisper and the candles in the room extinguished. She was now standing in darkness, the outline of her voluptuous breasts visible in the moonlight, and she suddenly felt embarrassed. Quickly she moved on to the bed and slipped under the blankets as well.

They lay side by side for a few minutes, neither making any movements and both hearing the other breathe. Triss began to wonder if she had misread her friend's intentions, if the nudity was only a sign of innocent comfort among friends. It was then that she noticed a draft, a gentle flow of wind that ran over her legs, beneath the blankets and over her loins, blowing gently on her clit. She could not help noticing how unnatural it is, how inimical to the patterns of the air within the room; Yen had almost certainly conjured it. It felt good to feel herself gently stimulated by the moving air and she could not help letting out a slight moan.

She moved her hand to ran her fingers gently over her clit. Yen seemed to be prodding her into touching herself; well, it seems she would get her wish. Triss brought her other hand to her pussy, sliding a finger inside, and feeling the moistness that was now seeping between her legs.

She closed her eyes and the image that first came to her was of Geralt but she pushed it away. She imagined instead an attractive man, not anyone she knew, youthful but not overly young, perhaps a mage like herself -- she thought of him in fine stately robes, looking at her with undisguised desire as he slowly but firmly slid his manhood into her.

She imagined Yennefer shapely body, imagined running her own hands over it and kissing every nook. She thought of the same mysterious man and pictured herself and Yennefer pleasuring him together, taking turns slurping on his cock.

She heard a moan and, to her surprise, it was not her own. She looked over and her eyes grew wide at seeing Yen furiously touching herself beside her. They looked each other in the eyes for a few seconds before Yennefer reached out and gently pulled Triss on top of her, guiding Triss's mouth to one of her breasts.

Triss followed her lead, sucking on the breast in front of her while gently squeezing Yen's other breast with her free hand. She heard Yen gasp with pleasure as her mouth ran over her nipple and their bodies rubbed against each other. She was lost in the moment when Yen finally pushed her away.

"Are you enjoying this?" Yennefer asked.

"Yes," Triss answered, "I am."

Triss was not sure who had initiated the kiss, but moments later their lips were locked together and their tongues were exploring each other's mouths. Again Triss lost herself in the sensations, wrapping her arms around her friend and sliding her body on top of hers. She felt Yennefer's hands cup her own breasts and the pleasure of having then kneaded together went through her body like a jolt of electricity.

They stayed like this for what seemed like an interminably long time before Yennefer broke the kiss. She squeezed Triss's breasts harshly and, to her surprise, saw Triss moan in a mix of pain and pleasure. She took one of them in her mouth and ran her tongue over the nipple, biting on it gently. They were certainly a mouthful. She found herself growing uncontrollably aroused; in need of urgent stimulation, she pulled away and pushed Triss down towards her loins.

Taking the hint, Triss's lips went straight to Yen's pussy, licking it thoroughly around the edges before turning to the clitoris and flicking it back and forth with her tongue. Yennefer's juices were overflowing, and Triss lapped them up eagerly. Groaning with pleasure, Yennefer put her hand on the back of Triss's head and pushed her harder onto her cunt.

"Eat it all out, you dirty slut," she said, almost in spite of herself. Though she was no longer angry at her friend, it did feel delicious to abuse her just now. Suddenly she found herself coming hard. She was squirting and her juices were running down over Triss's neck and breasts. Triss gasped for breath but Yennefer held her steady as she kept on coming.

Finally, her orgasm had subsided and she relaxed her grip, letting Triss pull away and gasp for breath. It might have been the quickest orgasm she had ever had. There was just something exquisite about using Triss so for her own pleasure. Looking at her friend, she wondered what to do next. A wicked idea came to her.

She rose and positioned herself sitting at the foot of the bed. Triss had caught her breath by now and was looking at her with an expression of pure affection in her eyes. She enjoyed that bit of abuse, Yennefer thought -- but let's see if she'll enjoy what's next.

She took Triss's hand and roughly pushed her over her own lap. "I think you haven't been properly punished for what you did," Yennefer said as she brought her hand down on her friend's ass. Triss gasped in pain although there was also a hint of pleasure buried within the gasp.

"I can't believe what a whore you've been," Yennefer said as she continued spanking. "Taking up with my man the moment I was out of the picture. You should be ashamed of yourself."

She made no effort to be gentle and Triss's backside was slowly turning bright red. She slid her other hand underneath Triss, down the length of her body to her pussy, and started playing with her clit even as she kept on spanking and berating her.

"How long, exactly, did you wait before you took up with him?"

SMACK

"Did it ever bother you to plough him in the same bed he used to have me?"

SMACK

"You didn't wonder if I'd be coming back?"

SMACK

"Ginger slut."

SMACK

Beside herself with pain and pleasure, Triss felt herself starting to orgasm. Her juices gushed over Yennefer's fingers and she felt herself in thrall to the delicious humiliation of being dominated by her mind. Her body began to shudder.

Even as she came, she felt the cruel slaps on her ass and heard Yennefer's harsh words. But it only made her come harder and harder. For a while, it felt as if she would never stop; she squirted again and again, unable to believe how much Yennefer mistreatment aroused her; she hated it and at the same time she wanted more of it.

When her orgasm had finally subsided, she felt herself in a daze and put up no resistance as Yennefer guided her gently to her side. There was no need for any more words. They nestled next to each other and Triss rested her head on her friend's shoulder. Her eyelids felt so deliciously heavy. Covered in warm blankets and pressed against each other, the two friends drifted off into a deep sleep within moments.