Chapter Text
Later, when his brothers inevitably asked, Lambert would blame the hunger.
It was late in the season, coin wasn’t exactly plentiful, and he hardly had Aiden’s charm at haggling contracts. So maybe he hadn’t been eating three meals every day.
It was the only excuse he had.
Especially since he was doing better than he usually did this late into the season.
The contract should have been easy. There was a bandit in the woods, attacking travelers and stealing from them, and Lambert had been hired to catch him.
Picking up the scent was easy enough, one Omega still had her purse with her after the bandit had taken everything from it, and from that scent Lambert could pick up traces of wildflowers. Sweet, for a Beta, but it didn’t smell of Alpha, or another Omega.
Tracking the scent was easy too, leading him to a cave a fair way into the forest.
No heartbeat, but he could learn a bit about this bandit, or maybe even hide and wait for him.
Well.
He had plenty of time to learn about the bandit now.
Who leaves a rope trap next to their bedroll?
He was hanging upside down, encased in ropes so tight he couldn’t even reach any of his knives to cut his way out. Vesemir was going to have his hide for this.
He tried to angle his fingers to cast igni, hoping to burn away the ropes, but no luck. His fingers formed the sign, but the flames wouldn’t come.
Fuck.
By the time he could hear someone approaching, his blood was in his head and he was in a foul fucking mood.
The steps were light, and they stopped just outside the cave.
“Hey,” he called, “cut me down from here already!”
The steps started up again, unhurried and careful, and then someone was chuckling.
“They sent a Witcher?” A light voice asked, almost musical in tone. “They must really be worried.”
“Yeah, you went after an Omega!” Lambert snapped at the bandit.
“Hey, I only went through her bag,” the voice corrected, coming closer. “…Now what should I do with you?”
Fuck.
“Cut me down and find out what I’ll do to you,” he snarled. “Can’t keep me here forever.”
“No it’s not terribly pleasant, is it?” the voice moved around Lambert till he could see pants, and looking up he could see a lithe man staring down at him with interest in his sharp blue eyes. “But I can’t just let you go either… You found my hideaway.”
The man drew a knife from his side, and the single spark of self preservation in Lambert’s body flared.
“…They haven’t paid me yet,” he tried. “I don’t have to go back and tell them anything.”
The bandit tilted his head, tapping the flat of his dagger against Lambert’s chin. “See… That’s a risk I just can’t take.”
“What, you think you can kill me?” Lambert snarled, thrashing in his ropes as the bandit stepped back with a grin on his face. “I’m a Witcher, I’m a lot harder to kill than- hey! Give that back!”
The bandit was quickly and efficiently removing all of Lambert’s swords and knives from their sheaths, setting them to the side in a pile Lambert wouldn’t be able to reach quickly even if he did get down.
“There,” the bandit brushed his hands off as he stared down at Lambert. “Any more?”
“What do you think?” Lambert snapped, and the bandit chuckled, before he began patting down Lambert’s leg. “Hey- hey! Not so handsy!”
Three more daggers joined the pile before the bandit started tugging on the ropes-
Making them tighter around his wrists.
By the time he was released onto the ground, his wrists were firmly bound behind him, and he had no chance of escape even as the other ropes fell away. “The fuck are these ropes made of anyway?” Lambert asked, and the bandit shrugged.
“A bit of this, a bit of that. I think there’s some dimeritium in them.”
Dimeritium.
The reason his signs didn’t work.
“Hey- hey- hands off!” Lambert complained as the bandit began fiddling with the clasps on his armor. When that didn’t deter the man, he tried biting at him, but this was as unsuccessful as everything else he’d tried as the man nimbly avoided his teeth.
It wasn’t until the bandit started tugging on his shirt that he really got scared, trying to get his feet under him as he growled, and the bandit paused, losing some of the mirth that had clung to him this whole time.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snarled, and the bandit tilted his head.
“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe you completely unarmed. If it makes you feel better, I’m as uninterested in seeing what’s down your pants as you are of me touching it.”
That reassurance got him through the bandit thoroughly disrobing and disarming him, leaving him in nothing but his small clothes on the cave floor.
“Don’t think I hid anything there?” Lambert growled, and the bandit wrinkled his nose.
“If you have something there I’m inclined to let you keep it,” he remarked dryly.
He walked away, examining Lambert’s weapons, and Lambert stared after him. “…Well? What now?”
“Now, I wait for someone to pass by, and consider what to make for dinner.”
…That was it? “What’re you going to do with me?!” Lambert snapped, and the bandit grinned, shrugging.
“That is the question, isn’t it?”
He didn’t say anything further, and Lambert stared at him. “…What, you’re just gonna leave me tied up here?!”
“Till I’m done here, probably,” the bandit agreed.
Well. At least it didn’t sound like he was going to be killed.
“Well do I at least get to know your name, bandit?”
The bandit turned to look at him again, tilting his head. “I heard a rumor that Witchers can hear lies. Is that true?”
“…No.”
The bandit smirked. “No you don’t get to know my name.”
Well fuck. “Alright then bastard, why are you staking out this nothing town in backwoods Redania? Surely there’s better scores to be had in bigger towns.”
No response.
“You know they’re barely paying me to track you down? These people have nothing. Why’re you bothering taking from them?”
The bandit sat up a bit at that. “Why, should I steal from you instead? Oh, wait, I already have.” He leaned back again. “The rich nobles stopping through here have more than plenty, I promise you-“ the bandit perked up, though what he could be hearing that Lambert couldn’t, he wasn’t sure.
A moment later he was off- taking one of Lambert’s daggers, the bastard- and gone.
Well.
A fine mess this was.
Wriggling about had gotten him nothing but dirt in uncomfortable places and his wrists even more twisted around than they had been before. He couldn’t even reach the tiny knife he kept in the seam of his smallclothes, his hands were bound too far away from them.
Eventually the bandit came back, whistling a merry tune and carrying a small bag of coins, along with a few other things.
“You look damn pleased with yourself,” Lambert muttered as the bandit set down his trophies, and set to work building up a fire.
“It was an excellent day. Everyone behaved, I got the coin I needed and enough food for the next two days, even accounting for feeding you. Which, I don’t have to do,” he pointed out.
“Sure, bastard, just leave me to starve. You ever seen a hungry wolf before?”
The bandit waved his hand dismissively. “Please. I’m not going to let you starve, I’m not cruel.”
“And what do you call stealing from everyone traveling this road?” Lambert bit out. “You say you’re not cruel, but I know what you are. You’re a lazy coward. I think people like you, who prey on the innocent and helpless are a special kind of monster, and I think one day you’re going to bite off more than you can chew.”
The bandit paused, something resigned settling in his scent. “…Not everyone has a choice. I didn’t.”
To his shock, the bandit wasn’t lying.
Still… “Everyone makes a choice. One way or another.”
“Fine. Then call my choice one of necessity.” The bandit crossed over to the pack, the spring gone from his steps, and Lambert watched as he pulled out some meat and vegetables and set them to roasting over the fire.
“…Can I at least get some clothes back?” Lambert grumbled.
“Why, feeling exposed?”
“Yes.”
The bandit chuckled, shaking his head, but then a minute later he stood up, picking up Lambert’s discarded shirt and pants, and crossing over to him. “If I try to put these back on you, will you try to bite me again?”
“No,” Lambert lied, and the bandit sighed, walking away again. “Hey- hey- wait- fine, I won’t bite you, promise,” he grit out, even though it pained him to do so.
The Bandit turned on his heel, smirking down at Lambert. “Really? Is your promise worth something?”
Fucker.
“If you didn’t have your clothes, you’d be willing to put up with shit to get them back, right?” Lambert pointed out, blinking as the bandit smelled suddenly of shock and pain before the scent evaporated just as quickly.
…Scents were supposed to linger longer than that, right?
“Fine,” the bandit sighed, “but I’m not afraid to stab you if you try anything.”
Lambert stayed still as the bandit shoved his shirt back on him, trying to figure out why that had been a lie.
Either way, he wouldn’t get out of this by attacking recklessly. He needed to bide his time, and wait until the bandit dropped his guard.
He could be patient.
Probably.