"I most definitely didn't fuck her," he says. "She was... upset with me at the time, and it had been years since we'd last seen each other. She had told me that if I killed the dragon for her, she would forgive me for everything, but we both knew that wasn't true."

And Dandelion had begged him not to kill the dragon, after they had seen the golden one win Eyck's ill-fated duel, because something so rare and beautiful should be allowed to exist in peace. When he thinks back on it, on his bright eyes and earnest voice, Geralt wonders if he'd been only talking about Borch in that moment. He had never been brave enough to actually ask him, and he's not sure if he'd be brave enough to do it even now.

"Dandelion was in the thick of it, though, as he always is despite my best efforts. There was another mage in the hunting party, and he wanted to stop the hunt before we reached the dragon. Dandelion and I tried to help him, but... the fight went poorly for us. Yen wasn't on our side."

Which, as much as it had disappointed him at the time, was hardly unexpected. She wanted to kill the dragon, of course she would oppose any attempts at stopping the hunt prematurely.

"She changed her mind after seeing the true nature of the dragon's hoard." The infant golden dragon-- even Yen had been swayed to mercy by the sight of the orphaned wyrmling. "The Reavers turned on her, and she was held captive with us. With Borch's aid, we were able to escape our bonds and drive off the Reavers. The dwarves, as you said, were given dragon teeth to satisfy them. Borch gave Yen and I advice and then left with his child and swordswomen."

He drinks again and opens the next bottle of wine, because they've run through what he already opened.

"All in all, it could've gone better." Understatement. Geralt personally could've used about a hundred percent less falling off a fucking mountain.