#Sirens of the deep | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

havenoffandoms · 3 days ago

Text

Of Mutants and Men (Geraskier, Gen)

Read it on Ao3

In all his years of being a Witcher on the Path, Geralt always tried to stay out of politics. It’s a lesson that’s been ingrained in him since his youngest years at Kaer Morhen. His teachers, Vesemir more vocally than others perhaps, had been absolutely categorical about the role of witchers in the world. If you know what’s good for you, Vesemir would remind him and his classmates incessantly, you will keep your noses out of the business of kings and the assholes who have something to gain from being involved in politics. It only breeds conflict, Master Rennes would add in a subsequent lesson, not least because fanatics only need one person to sway their way to feel validated in their stupidity. It is not a witcher’s job to play mediator to a bunch of spoilt brats whose temper tantrums have disastrous consequences, Master Varin pointedly underlined any time he had a drink in him (or any time the opportunity presented itself, which was far too often in Varin’s case). Geralt’s teachings have been very clear about taking sides in the conflict of men, elves, or dwarves - don’t fucking do it, no matter what.

Master Rennes and Master Varin will be turning in their graves right about now, and it goes without saying that Vesemir can never know about Geralt’s adventures in Bremervoort.

Easier said than done when Jaskier is already working on his newest, best selling ballad.

“A good rhyme for surf?” Jaskier asks, dragging Geralt back to the present moment.

“Uh… murph?”

“Oh dear,” comes the unenthusiastic response from a slightly offended bard, “well, we won't make a poet of you yet!”

“I am as good a poet as you are a Witcher.”

That, in turn, pulls a disgruntled guffaw from the other man, exactly the reaction Geralt was betting on. He tries not to smile at how easily Jaskier rises to the bait. He has a reputation to uphold, after all, and there are too many witnesses to break character now.

“I'll have you know, witcher-” Jaskier points an accusatory quill in Geralt’s face, his elegantly shaped eyebrows furrowed in a discontented frown. “That I did not do too badly with a sword while you were busy pirouetting your way into certain death on that kraken! Which is more than I can say about your so-called rhyming abilities! What even is a ‘murph’?”

“Quiet, Jaskier.” Geralt shoots the other man a pointed look, nodding at the frolicking merfolk in the water. “This is a sacred union, show some respect.”

“Pah! Respect!” Unable to resist the call of romance, Jaskier's eyes do end up drifting back to the scene before them. Even though his features soften at the sight, Geralt picks up the moody wouldn't know respect if it slapped you in the face that falls from Jaskier's lips. Leaning down conspiratorially until his lips are a breaths away from Jaskier's ear, Geralt whispers:

“You make it too easy for me, lark.”

“Far from me the thought to dampen your good mood, but must it be at my expense?” Jaskier complains, though Geralt instantly notes the way the bard’s shoulders relax as he leans into Geralt’s space. Too forgiving, so is Jaskier. Geralt just knows that had Zeleste not fallen victim to Melusina’s clutches, Jaskier would've forgiven the man his faults, too.

“Exasperation has never looked more dashing on anyone else I know. It is a burden you bear very gracefully.”

“Oh, you flatterer!” Jaskier playfully shoves at Geralt’s shoulder, with too little strength to achieve anything other than ruffling the witcher's uncomfortably tight doublet. “Very well, you win. For now.”

As Sh’eenaz and Agloval disappear into the deeps, the shell-shocked guests slowly rise from their seats to head back to the castle. King Usveldt, disgraced and having lost the respect of most of his subjects, has since retreated into the comfort of his home, where he will no doubt drown the sorrows in expensive wine and lavish feasts. Geralt doesn't envy the man, nor does he pity him. Usveldt got exactly what he deserved.

“Witcher!” a voice, unfamiliar and ethereal, calls him from the edge of the water. Geralt glances over his shoulder and meets the gaze of the siren King Basim. “Witcher, a moment of your time?”

“What else could they possibly need from you now?” Jaskier folds the piece of parchment he's been scribbling on throughout the ceremony and stuffs it back in the inside pocket of his doublet. “Want me to come with you, dear heart?”

“No need.” Geralt meets Jaskier's gaze, his tone softening now that the crowd has somewhat dispersed. “Go back to Roach, tack him up for me?��

“Only if you're sure,” Jaskier relents, though the worried crease between his eyebrows doesn't go unnoticed by Geralt. “Shout if you need me, yeah? I won't be far.”

“Off you go, witcherling.”

“You are so calling me that in front of your family next time we're in Kaer Morhen,” Jaskier calls out over his shoulder as he saunters away, his lute firmly strapped to his back. Geralt watches the bard leave, a small smile edged on his lips. Only once Jaskier turns a corner and disappears from view does Geralt make his way to the edge of the water.

“Your Highnesses,” Geralt greets the couple of sirens in his heavily accented Elder, “it was a beautiful ceremony, that of your daughter and her new husband.”

The King and Queen are kind enough not to remark on Geralt’s clumsy syntax. He's not had much opportunity to practice his Elder recently.

“We thank you for your words, vatt’ghern. And for your help during the battle,” King Basim adds, his eyes holding Geralt’s gaze easily. “We are indebted to you. You have our gratitude and friendship.”

Geralt nods his head in acknowledgement at the siren king's warm words.

“King Usveldt compensated me for my part in this. I do not expect payment from you, also,” Geralt is quick to reassure them.

“Perhaps you don't expect payment, but you sure deserve it.” This time, it's Queen Dahut who speaks on behalf of her husband. “We have no coin to offer, but that doesn't mean we will not compensate you for a job well done. Here.”

The Queen extends her arm, her closed fist hovering over the water expectantly. Geralt takes a few steps forward, until the seawater laps gently at his booted shins. He crouches so he's at eye-level with the Queen and reaches for her hand, stopping shy of touching her. A small vial is dropped into Geralt’s open hand.

“What is this?” the Witcher asks as he studies the purple liquid sloshing inside the ornate vial.

“You spoke of how beautiful our daughter's wedding was.” Basim stares pointedly at the vial in Geralt’s hand before locking eyes with him again. “And we have noticed your… attachment to that bard of yours.”

Geralt freezes, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as his gaze drops to the vial in his hands again. He curls his fingers around the glass, careful not to shatter it while also pondering how rude it would be to toss the damned thing back into the ocean whence it came.

“We don't mean to pry into your relationships,” Queen Dahut assures him, hypocritically so though Geralt is not foolish enough to so blatantly spit on their gift. “But if there is one thing this near-war has taught us it's that love can be a very powerful weapon, to be used for evil as much as for good. What we're giving you is a choice.”

“A choice, eh?” Geralt says, unable to mask the bitterness of his tone.

“The choice to turn into your lover's form,” Basim clarifies, just in case Geralt is too slow to catch on.

“Afraid this generous gift might be wasted on the likes of me,” Geralt tells them, already handing back the vial to Dahut. “Jaskier is a human, as am I. A mutated human, but human all the same."

“Yes,” Dahut agrees, though there is an edge to her tone Geralt can't quite place, “and how attached are you to your mutations, Geralt of Rivia ? How often have you laid awake wondering what it would be like to be just human and nothing more?”

Too often for comfort, Geralt doesn't say. Every night on his very first year on the Path, when instead of accolades and praise Geralt’s efforts to rid the Continent of monsters was met with contempt and prejudice. The life of knighthood he'd wished for himself was a far cry from his reality as a mutated monster hunter, so far-fetched that Geralt had to kill that part of himself if he hoped to survive his second year on the Path. Turns out fair maidens aren't so quick to give out favours to scarred, cat-eyed men carrying two swords on their backs and usually covered in some kind of monster guts, or stinking to the high heavens of sewage. Geralt couldn't remember what colour his eyes were before the mutations, but there are times when he wouldn't mind finding out. Unconsciously, his fingers tightened over the vial again.

“Please accept this gift, with our thanks,” Dahut insists, her eyes knowing. “It is your choice what to do with it.”

Before Geralt has a chance to answer, both Basim and Dahut disappear under the surface, never to be seen again.

“Ah, there you are, dear heart!” The relieved smile stretching across Jaskier's handsome face is like a balm for Geralt’s soul. Not that he'll ever admit to that out loud. “Was wondering where you were.”

“The King and Queen insisted on a reward for my services,” Geralt explains off-handedly, hoping Jaskier won't ask any questions about the vial in Geralt’s pocket, the weight of it burdening him like dragging a boulder on a chain. But expecting Jaskier not to ask questions is like expecting water not to be wet, and Geralt really should've known better than to bring up that stupid conversation at all.

“Oh, another reward! Is it more coin? Unlikely, seeing as the merfolk don't really deal in our money. Did the Queen give you her necklace? Bet that gem’ll go for a pretty fortune!”

Geralt ignores the questioning, hoping Jaskier will talk himself into a circle as he's known to do, then get distracted by something else equally asonyne to blabber about for the next few hours. Jaskier is the type to talk himself into an early grave.

“So?” the bard prods once Geralt settles himself in his saddle.

“So what?”

“Your reward from King Basim and Queen Dahut. What was it?”

Fuck.

“Their friendship and eternal gratitude,” Geralt supplies, too quickly to be natural and not for the first time does he thank his mutations for his inability to blush under Jaskier's scrutiny. “Come on, Roach.”

“Woah, hey, hold up!” Jaskier steps in front of Roach, who doesn't take kindly to this fop of a man barricading his path, and lets him know as much with an irritated snort. “Why are you lying to me?”

“I'm not,” Geralt lies, badly.

“You're acting all shifty. I can tell, you know!”

“Not one of your best qualities,” Geralt mutters under his breath as he manoeuvres Roach around Jaskier.

“I heard that,” the man declares before grabbing a hold of Roach’s reins and only narrowly dodging the offended bite from the gelding. “Geralt. Why are you being so secretive about this? I thought there were no secrets between us.”

And whether it's those words or the fact that Jaskier looks genuinely distraught at the thought of Geralt hiding anything from him, what with his big pleading eyes and his stupidly expressive face, Geralt isn't sure. All he knows is that he finds himself unable to keep up the mystery any longer. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, he pulls the vial out of his pocket and tosses it at Jaskier, who almost doesn't catch it before it hits the ground.

“Geralt, what… What is this?”

“My payment. The same potion Sh’eenaz gave Agloval.”

Geralt watches as a series of complicated emotions flashes across Jaskier's face, ranging from surprise to confusion, before finally settling on something carefully neutral that has Geralt’s insides twisting anxiously.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” Geralt agrees, at loss for what else to say. Jaskier examines the vial in his hand, his brows furrowed in concentration as he does so.

“I see. And…” Jaskier pauses, pondering his next words carefully while averting Geralt’s gaze. “Is this something you're considering?”

And that's the big question, isn't it? Geralt doesn't have a fucking clue. Part of him is definitely curious, but another, albeit smaller part of him, resents the idea of having to change who he is, what he is, in order to fit Jaskier's worldview. They've been travelling for over a decade together, not only as travel companions but also as something more, something neither of them has felt the need to define in too many words. This thing between them feels good, better than anything Geralt’s felt before, but it's also fragile and unchartered in a way that throws Geralt off balance.

“Because if you are,” Jaskier continues when it becomes apparent that Geralt can't find the words to express himself right now, his voice impossibly tender as he meets Geralt’s gaze again, “it is your prerogative, of course. So if you choose to take this, I just need to know that you won't do it for my sake. Or for anyone else's sake other than yours.”

The words take Geralt by surprise, because this is not how he expected to see the conversation going. He realises that he anticipated Jaskier to want him to take this potion, to become more human and less Witcher. Being confronted with the exact opposite scenario is almost more frightening, because now it's up to Geralt to decide what he wants for himself and isn't that a fucking thought? In nearly six decades no one ever really cared what he wanted from his life. It's never been part of the deal. A Witcher doesn't get to choose another path than the one he's been created to walk. Except now, Geralt does have a choice to make and he finds himself unable to think straight.

“For what it's worth,” Jaskier adds, a loving smile now tugging at the corner of his lips as he levels Geralt with a look so full of adoration it makes Geralt feel sick to his stomach. “I like you for who you are, Geralt. Not because you're a Witcher, not because you can do cool pirouettes and slash your way through a monster kraken when you drink one of those potions of yours. I love you because you're funny in a way not many people bother to understand, because you speak to your horse like he's a person, because you won't kill a monster simply because you're hired to do so. You're a principled man who cares deeply even though he doesn't show it. There are so many things I love about you, you being a Witcher doesn't even crack the top twenty. Mutations, no mutations. It's all the same to me. As long as you're happy within yourself, I am happy.”

As Jaskier speaks, Geralt lets out the anxious breath he's been holding since he left King Basim and Queen Dahut. His chest feels lighter and the feelings of nausea ease, giving way to something gentler, something warmer. Geralt manages a lopsided smirk which is met by Jaskier's beaming smile and mischievous wink.

“Come now, Roach.” Jaskier pats the gelding’s neck affectionately before feeding him a juicy apple, buying his forgiveness with that single gesture. “Let's move on to our next adventure. Cairngorm, here we come!”

As Jaskier leads on, the vial safely tucked in his breast pocket, the world suddenly straightens on its axis.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #ao3 #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #Sirens of the deep #the witcher ficlet

18 notes · View notes

ladyannemarie5 · 4 months ago

Text

I finally got to watch “The Witcher: Sirens of the Deep” again, so here's the third part of:

Things we learned/confirmed about our bard in “The Witcher: Sirens of the deep”

Geralt is always ready to protect his bard on hunts.

He and Geralt share the coins from the hunts and his performances as a bard (awww like in the fanfics).

He often suffers from financial problems thanks to sharing Geralt's coin and moral code (but he never leaves him alone)

Geralt lets Jaskier touch him as he pleases even though physically Jaskier couldn't move an inch of the witcher if Geralt didn't want to (you know, that scene at the beginning where they're in the tavern, Geralt gets up to leave and Jaskier with a firm hand on his shoulder puts him back in his sit)

He went to Bremervoord, his old town where no one appreciated him and he suffered from bullying and from which he fled so desperately to be himself, just because Geralt was avoiding you-know-who.

He never misses an opportunity to badmouth Yennefer LOL.

He was the driver of the carriage on Ellander's trip to Möen that Yennefer was talking about in S3E1 where she and Geralt did everything but talk (to be honest, I'm not really sure on this point but in the scene where the driver is seen steering the carriage you can see a blue doublet that may be Jaskier's trademark, but maybe I'm just projecting my bard on everything LOL)

It's Jaskier The Bard, The Song Don of Oxenfurt, The Crooner of the Continent

Essi “Little eye” is like Jaskier's little sister and the bard's #1 defender (Sooo cute and sad considering that probably, and following canon, that was the last time Jaskier saw Essi)

Geralt only learned that “Julian” was the bard's real name 20 years later.

He used to say he was originally from Oxenfurt (considering this point, it makes me wonder at what point the Viscount of Lettenhove thing came in).

He was meant to be a man of the sea, but he was “creative and different and they treated him horrible because of that” (MY SHYLAAAAAA, I liked that they gave more lore to his past, is it better than what I've read in fanfics? I don't think so, but it's appreciated anyway)

He's a superstar, master of the scene (we already knew this but it never hurts to remember it).

Jaskier steals Geralt's beer

Geralt is quite used to Jaskier's nonsense and dramatics (that scene where Jaskier spits out the beer, which he took from Geralt, for knowing that Essi is a bard and the witcher just shakes the drink off without blinking)

“If you know my name, it's because you know his songs” (What the hell???? Geralt was so ready to defend his bard's honor).

Jaskier is Geralt's official wingman (he just doesn't want him to be with Yennefer).

Geralt hunts and cooks for him (awwww)

Jaskier doesn't like Geralt's cooking.

Jaskier knows that Geralt has a big heart and is a softie.

And there was only one tent, Geralt sleeps outside the tent (probably to keep watch, but there's no way they haven't shared a tent at least once)

Jaskier is a very heavy sleeper

As a bard, he is aware of political, social and economic issues in many parts of the Continent (which helped Geralt to solve the Sirens' problem).

He is the beauty and moral support in the team (he is gorgeous).

Geralt removes Jaskier from the path of danger (that scene where Melusina in the form of the princess goes for Geralt and he removes Jaskier)

No matter what anyone says, Jaskier solved the case.

Moral support of Geralt when they call him “sewer cleaner”.

“And yet, for all the talk of Witchers lacking emotions, I know how to hurt you *proceeds to order Jaskier's death.

Jaskier was already saying goodbye to Geralt and blaming himself for returning to Bremervoord.

Jaskier may always be the damsel in distress, but when the situation calls for it he knows how to use a sword and fight in spite of his fears (keep the swords away from the bard when he is shocked and scared)

Zelest, welcome to Jaskier's harem.

Despite all the drama and commotion in the fights, Geralt constantly checks that his bard is alive and well, always ready to drop everything and help if needed.

Jaskier is quite used to Geralt's favorite technique of being eaten.

Jaskier has been to many royal weddings

Jaskier gave up his life and everything he knew in order to fulfill his dream of being a bard (and he made the right decision)

“But for now, looks like Jaskier will have to do” (To be honest, I don't know how to take this lol).

Jaskier is the one who decides where to go in his adventures with Geralt.

The whole Sirens of the deep is set immediately before the dragon hunt (and that breaks my heart)

And last but not least, Joey Batey is the love of my life (and I love that they respected his incredibly blue eyes).

(I didn't think this would turn out to be so long but here we are, sorry for the verbal vomit).

You can check the previous parts here and here

#jaskier #the witcher netflix #the witcher #joey batey #geraskier #the witcher sirens of the deep #sirens of the deep #my beloved bard

692 notes · View notes