#› mousesack ╱ replies

[leighsartworks216]

The Viper: Rewritten

Chapter 2

Ch 1 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7

Jaskier x gn!Witcher!reader

AO3 - I recommend reading it there

Warnings: blood, violence, fighting

Word Count: 2197

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“Geralt of Rivia, the mighty Witcher!”

All suspicious, accusatory whispers about you died at the herald’s call. Heads whipped around to feast their eyes on the White Wolf of legend, to catch a glimpse of his white hair or even his dual swords. There was not a soul across the Continent who had not heard of the glorious battle at the Edge of the World - a fabulous tale of Elves and Fauns, no doubt concocted by the man next to him who carried a lute.

A bitter taste soured your mouth at the hypocrisy. They spat and scowled at your presence, but how quickly they could turn and lunge for the Nordling Witcher’s boots so that they might kiss the ground he walked on. You did your best to ignore his presence and focus on the job at hand.

No less than a week ago, Mousesack sought you out to propose a contract for none other than the Lioness of Cintra. She desperately sought a Witcher who could act as a guard at her daughter, Pavetta’s, betrothal banquet, for the sole purpose of disposing of any unwanted guests. Mousesack didn’t know who the target could be, or why, but the amount of coin he offered was more than you could shake a stick at.

So, on the day of, you appeared donned in leather and daggers, and accepted the contract face-to-face with her majesty. Before she left to settle disputes within her kingdom, she ordered you to change into more reasonable attire.

The silk and linen was unfamiliar and uncomfortable against your skin. Your heightened senses were distracted from the sensations of the fabric, though not so much you could not hear the conversation across the hall.

Mousesack and Geralt of Rivia were tucked away in an alcove, whispering to each other about court gossip and the favored bachelor. What caught your attention was not the Witcher’s deflection of royal scandals, but the druid’s sudden change of topic.

“There is another Witcher here you should meet,” Mousesack said, conspiratorially, as if he was revealing a great secret and a great danger all at once.

Geralt of Rivia frowned at the other. “Another Wolf?”

“No, no, no.” Mousesack shook his head quickly. “A Witcher from the South.”

Even from afar, you could see how that peaked his interest. “A Nilfgaardian?” He trailed off a moment, thinking. There were only two Niflgaardian Witcher schools. “A Bear?” he asked, hedging his bets.

“A Viper,” you interjected. Mousesack almost jumped at your sudden appearance, but Geralt only frowned. You turned to the druid, a slight, teasing smile on your lips. “It’s not polite to talk about someone behind their back, Mousesack.”

He chuckled good-naturedly and slung an arm around your shoulders. “My apologies; I didn’t know you cared so much about manners.” He turned back to the guest of honor. “Geralt, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Geralt.”

Despite the easy way the druid introduced you, Geralt remained on edge. He crossed his bulky arms, pulling against the fancy garb he was also forced into wearing. The line between his brows only deepened as he looked you up and down.

“I didn’t think Vipers came this far North.”

“We usually don’t,” you agreed. You glanced at Mousesack, who seemed to be on edge from the interaction. “Mousesack tracked me down.”

“The Queen requested a Witcher to act as a guard,” he explained quickly. “They were the closest Witcher with the skillset she required.”

“Someone willing to kill humans.” It was not a question, yet the Wolf stared you down as he waited for confirmation.

You grinned at his unease. He was fighting back a scowl, though he hid it well enough. Wolves and Vipers - all Witcher schools, really - had a long standing history of distrust and conflict. With an adolescent sense of determination, you replied, “It’s what Vipers do best.”

His scowl revealed itself fully.

“Drop your trousers!”

All three of you turned your heads to a disturbance off to the side of the larger crowds. A lord had a well-dressed man - you recognized him as the bard Geralt came with - against the wall. Geralt sighed through his nose at the sight.

“I see you have business to attend to,” you teased. You ducked under Mousesack’s arm and backed away, bowing as you did so. Oh, if your mentors could see you now; you’d be reduced to sorting the library until Ivar Evil-Eye deemed it good enough. “Gentlemen.”

-

“Witcher…” Calanthe gasped. You couldn’t tell which one she spoke to. “Kill it.”

You should have leapt over the table. You should have drawn your blades the very second the disturbance began. You should have, but you couldn’t. Something kept your feet glued to the floor.

“No,” Geralt replied coolly.

“Viper, kill it,” she hissed, growing desperate.

The dark eyes of the animal-knight stared up at you. Briefly, you considered how grateful you were for the cover of the Queen’s throne.

Geralt half-turned to look at you. “This is no monster.”

He must have known that meant little-to-nothing to you. The Viper School was the only school to focus on hunting monsters, humans, and non-humans. Whether he was a beast, a man, or some other creature of the land did not matter. You were taught to accept all contracts on any head, and remain neutral. Above all else, take no sides.

“This knight has been cursed,” he tried again, a twinge of distress in his words.

Calanthe sighed irritably. “You’re as useless as the rest of them. Slay this beast!”

Your heart leapt forward. Your feet stayed put.

Take no sides.

Two more guards fell to the ground before Lord Urcheon drew his sword to point at Calanthe. “Lioness of Cintra, I come to claim what is rightfully mine! Pavetta. By the Law of Surprise.”

Take no sides.

In one motion, you vaulted over the banquet table and drew your twin blades. Geralt tried to grab your arm, but his fingers barely had time to brush against the silk of your attire.

One royal guard after another ran forward. Lord Urcheon skillfully deflected blows, redirecting swords with the momentum behind their swings. A guard collapsed to the floor, clasping his gut, after the knight sliced it open.

He turned and swung his sword down. It stopped dead in the air with a metallic screech, caught between two crossed daggers. Dark eyes full of fear peered deep into the focused gaze of the Viper before him.

You arched your daggers up and out, pushing his sword back. In the opening, your foot collided with his stomach in a powerful kick, knocking him to the ground. His sword skidded across the polished stone, far away from his desperate grasp.

The royal guards gathered to stand behind you as you towered over the defenseless man. Terror rippled through the party so intensely you could smell it.

You were exactly the monster they whispered about.

You flipped your daggers in your grasp. The knight’s heart raced.

Dual daggers raised into the air, smooth curves of metal glinting in the candlelight as they formed the deadly fangs of a snake.

You pitched your swing down, aimed directly for his heart.

The hollow sound of a dagger hitting the floor echoed through the room. Blood dripped down your knuckles as you stared into the eyes of the Wolf, his sword aimed at the hollow of your throat. Your silver dagger stayed in a tight grip by your side.

Movement caught your eye as the knight picked up your dagger. A protectiveness settled in your chest seeing the weapon in his hands.

“KILL THEM BOTH!”

Chaos. You and Geralt fought head to head. Lords and royal guards rushed in to stop Lord Urcheon. Sir Eist joined to help. Queen Calanthe was forced to sit by and watch. Swords clashed, blood spilled. Your heart pounded in your ears as adrenaline coursed through your veins.

Men fell left and right, but none were slain by the White Wolf. You were deadlocked. You would throw a swing at his side or neck, and he would deflect it with his sword. He would aim an attack at your chest or head, and you would dodge out of the way. Trapped in the futility of fighting an enemy matched to his abilities, he couldn’t help against the guards or lords. If he did, he would risk opening himself up to an attack from you.

His sword sliced horizontally through the air. You rolled under the blade, behind him, and whipped around to stab yours into his back. You stopped inches from driving the silver into the Queen’s neck. Her sword locked with Geralt’s. You stared, stunned, at the back of her head.

“Stop.” It was a plea. His sword slowly fell. Hers followed. “Stop!” she called to the rest of the fighting crowd.

Your eyes met the Wolf’s over her shoulder. His gaze was tense. It burned through you. Your dagger fell to your side once more, and then found its way back to its sheath.

-

A burst of energy shoved everyone back. Some went flying into pillars or banquet tables. The oxygen was stolen from your lungs as your back slammed against the wall.

A figure curled overtop your body, protecting you from the fierce winds brought about by Pavetta’s powers. You gasped and coughed as you fought to catch your breath once more. The figure came into focus as you did.

It was the bard. He was skinny, though not scrawny. Short, dark hair blew about and caught on his long lashes as brilliant blue eyes stared down at you. You hoped he did not see the confusion in your own.

Why would he protect you?

Shards of glass rained down as the windows shattered one by one. He pulled your head down into his chest and raised an arm to cover himself. Sharp pieces fell down your back and scattered into his hair.

When he relaxed his hold, you pulled away and pushed yourself to a kneel. The fragments dug into the rough skin of your palms and latched to the almost-dried blood that stained your hand red. You paid it no mind as you squinted to see into the vortex.

At the center stood the princess and the hedgehog knight. Loose chairs and food swirled through the air around them like a tornado destroying a village. Your eyes traced the crowd of people who all were forced to watch helplessly as Pavetta cast spells under her breath - all to protect her lover. Geralt and Mousesack were pressed against two pillars, closest to the whirlwind. Queen Calanthe and Sir Eist held each other on the floor as they hid beneath her banquet table.

Wood groaned and scraped across the floor as a table came barrelling toward the wall. As fast as you could, you pushed the bard aside and covered him with your body. You felt him flinch as the heavy wood slammed into the wall right next to you and splintered, narrowly avoiding hitting your back.

Just as soon as it started, it was over.

The wind stopped. The world fell silent. You slowly pulled away from the man to see what happened. It was dark. Every candle was out. Haloed by moonlight in the center of a circle of debris lay Pavetta and Lord Urcheon. Geralt and Mousesack stood a few feet away, panting heavily with exhaustion.

It was over.

Guilt setted, heavy and unwelcome, within your chest. Had you listened to Geralt, had you rejected your training and picked a side - All of this could have been avoided. Or, if it was truly destiny that brought the two souls together, perhaps it was unavoidable.

Your back ached as you stood. You would be bruised come morning, there was no doubt about that. The man you protected looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes. You wondered why Geralt brought him along. Surely, he saw terrible things every day on the Path; he looked far more in his element amongst the royals and elites in the world.

You reached out a hand and heaved him to his feet. He shakily nodded his thanks. But even as the Princess stood and the Queen joined her in the circle, his attention remained focused on you. He wasn’t afraid. He did not wrench his hand away or spit on you. He just stared.

Before you could ask why, Calanthe began speaking. She held hands with her daughter, seemingly forgiven. Remorse and regret settled on her features. For a brief moment, you caught her eye. You would not be getting paid tonight.

How could she, with a clear conscience, pay the person she hired to murder her daughter’s love?

A glimmer of light caught your attention. Resting within the debris was your steel dagger, a beam of moonlight reflecting off of its sharpened edge. No one seemed to pay you any mind as you stepped forward and slid it back into the sheath at your waist. You said nothing to the man as you passed him, keeping to the shadows at the edge of the hall, and slipping out of the castle.

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@sleepyqueerenergy

@lex-caspartine

@lastwandastan

@adozenforks

@plaguedoctorsnake

@solomonssimp

[o-kaythislooksbad]

@ailesswhumptober day 25: nightmares / flashback / "why didn't you save me?"

[fucked around with the witcher (netflix) story and timeline for this draft of a fic that's probably not going anywhere]

the flaming remains of cintra illuminate the black knight on his horse. the horse whinnies, bucks the man off its back, and morphs into the boarish face of nivellen. "stay with me, ciri. please." his snout and tusks swirl around his face until his nose and ears become humanoid, and his fur is replaced by a head full of quills. "you belong with me." a figure with long, pale yellow hair appears by his side; her slim fingers intertwine with the thick armor on his hands. "you belong with us." cintra keeps burning, and its peoples' screams of anguish become cheers of joy as a new banner is raised over the castle.  

the air is cold, but it has nothing to do with the shivering that causes ciri to wake.

"why didn't you save me?" she whispers.

geralt frowns from across the tiny campfire. "you made it to roach before i dealt with the bruxa."

ciri shakes her head. "you didn't need to protect me from vereena. why didn't you save me before?"

"from cintra?" geralt asks, and receives a small nod in reply. "the king imprisoned me when i invoked the law of surprise. nilfgaard began their attack before i got out; there was nothing i could have done for you." he sighs and leans back against the fallen tree he claimed as a pillow.

geralt sounds apologetic enough, but it doesn't matter. they've been on the run for weeks, and he's barely said a sentence about anything, and even less about why they're running and where they're going. it's condescending and irritating, at the very least, to know her destiny and to know that geralt knows it, but he refused any direct question and keeps trying to distract her with roach when she's been polite. 

"bullshit! you know, you've known, this entire time about my parents and the white flame. you claimed the law of surprise and you knew i would be the surprise. mousesack told me about the wedding, but you still left me in cintra with them."

"i never get involved." geralt doesn't move, but his voice inches towards the warning growls he uses before he shuts down. 

"except for the times when you do," ciri counters, sitting up and glaring at him. "so why didn't you save me from everything, from the start?"

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

who are we to challenge destiny? life was saved, debt must be paid, or the whole order of the world falls apart. honor destiny's wish, or unleash its wrath upon us.

mousesack's words rumble around geralt's head as he watches ciri fight off her nightmares.

destiny helps people believe there's an order to this horseshit when there isn't. upon your insistence, i... i'll claim the tradition as you have, the law of surprise. give me that which you already have but do not know.

ciri's legs twitch as she mutters something about running, and what's left of geralt's heart breaks.

the bond that will come into being between you and this child will be extraordinary. if you dismiss it, you will surely unleash true calamity upon us all.

despite what he told mousesack, geralt had intended on honoring the cintran tradition. he had, until the girl's parents were declared lost at sea and coincidentally, rumors from the south spread like wildfire. whatever doubts geralt had about duny and pavetta, calanthe's strength and dedication to her people was legendary. cirilla would be better of with her and eist, with the armies of cintra and skellige protecting her.

love and blood. they both possess a mighty power.

ciri wakes and asks the one question he cannot answer. questions about yen and jask, about magic and signs, about prophecies and species and the continent and its history - those questions have answers that he's not always ready to give, or ones that he doesn't have the knowledge or permission to give. this one is different; there is no book to consult, or anyone else with a relevant opinion on the matter.

why didn't you save me?

[isabellehemlock]

9. What is your favorite dialogue you’ve written so far?

Hi Amy, thanks for sending me one of these 🤗

Did you reblog the WIP game? Feel free to let me know and I'd be happy to send a question or two your way, too 💖

Like from the previous ask, I'll reply for two WIPs, one is my TOG Cult AU, and the other is my Witcher precanon fic for Eist and Calanthe that I hope to resume next month ✨️

9. What is your favorite dialogue you've written so far?

MoC - gosh I'm not even sure if I can really narrow it down, this beast of a fic is some 80k+ right now lol, but hmmm, maybe this exchange?

But he had taken a moment too long to reply, Joe taking his silence as a sign that he might need to expand on his meaning, “I’ll admit, there was a part of me that had figured your faith was some sort of conditioned response to your circumstances, something to cling during your transition away from New Eden, but I’m beginning to realize it’s deeper than that, much deeper, and I guess I’m wondering, how can your faith be this deep without trying to get others to do the same?” 

Nicky gave him an understanding smile, glad that Joe wasn’t feeling any kind of guilt or pressure along the way, it would never have been his intentions anyway, but intention and impact didn’t always align, “Because my faith is not reliant on those around me to agree with it - besides, I have seen how some people use faith to justify inflicting pain, so I understand the weariness.” 

PBHBT - this one also feels hard to narrow down, but I will say I think top three in a fun way is a young Eist being told about prophecies from Mousesack and replying:

“If there is one thing I have retained from the stories you have shared with me so far, it is that there are many prophecies in the northern kingdoms about dangerous babies.”

[eddysocs]

Lilting Melody (Jaskier x OC)

Summary: Minnia is tasked with babysitting a young Ciri and has a hard time trying to get her to sleep. Thankfully, a bard's song gives her much needed help.

Word Count: 1,069

Warnings: None

A/N: Gif credit goes to @valiantwerewolfluminary

Minnia always enjoyed Cintra. She felt so at ease around Calanthe. While most treated her as nothing more than a silly little princess, Calanthe showed her respect, allowed her to be herself. With Calanthe, she became young woman with substance rather than just a pretty face with nothing to say. It was her visits with the Cintran queen that made her not hate being a princess.

On one such visit, there was an air of strife within Cintra's borders, and Calanthe seemed more distracted than usual. She still treated Minnia with her usual demeanor, but Minnia could tell there was something more pressing weighing on her mind than Minnia's own company. Minnia was about to ask her about it, when Mousesack swiftly approaches and whispered something to Calanthe.

"Minnia," Calanthe began, drawing Minnia's attention. "Would you watch over Cirilla for me? I have an urgent matter that has just come up that I must attend to."

The suddenness of the request caught Minnia temporarily off guard and it took her a second to reply. "Of course I would," Minnia finally managed. She���d never really taken care of children, and with Ciri only being five she wasn’t sure she fully trusted herself to watch the girl, but if Calanthe held that trust in her, it must be something she thought she could handle.

"All you have to do is get her to bed," Calanthe assured. "And if you can manage that, I may take you on permanently," she joked. Minnia smiled politely for Calanthe's sake, but the joke had only served to heighten her nerves.

As Minnia departed for young Ciri's quarters, she took several deep breaths, muttering to herself that she could handle this task. She just hoped Ciri wouldn’t prove too difficult. She opened the door to find Ciri playing, clearly not ready for any sort of sleep, and Minnia dare not interrupt her play, opting instead to let her tire herself out.

"Hello, Ciri. I’m Minnia. I’m a princess from another kingdom and I’ve come to watch over you for your grandmother. Is it okay if I stay and play with you?"

Ciri nodded, but didn’t really pay Minnia much attention, favoring her toys to any company. But Ciri allowed Minnia to play with her, as long as she followed her gentle instruction. And Minnia was happy enough to play along with whatever she wanted.

It was only when Ciri let out a big yawn that Minnia broached the subject of bedtime. "We should get you to bed. You don’t want to be tired in the morning," Minnia reasoned, though the sound logic was lost on the child. Ciri did not like the idea of going to bed when she was having such a good time playing with her numerous toys, but Minnia decided she had to be the firm voice of reason and try to get the tired child to sleep. Ciri put up a fuss as Minnia began to put some of the toys away, but Minnia had asked so nicely that she put the ones she held away that she couldn’t find it in her little heart to fight her on it.

Yet still the girl did not want to sleep. Minnia tucked her into her bed snugly and told Ciri a fairy tale that her mother often used to tell her as a child. She thought Ciri would like it and drift off to sleep as she let the story unfold, but at the end, Ciri remained awake.

The only other thing she could think to do was carry her around the castle grounds as Minnia's father had always resorted to on the nights when Minnia could not otherwise be soothed. Only a girl of seventeen years herself, managing to pick up the five year old Ciri wasn’t the easiest of tasks, but Minnia found a good balance, resting Ciri on her hip as she took her outdoors. Thankfully, the summer night was warm enough to not need to dress any differently for the weather. It was a quiet, clear night out and Minnia pointed at the stars, hoping Ciri would see them twinkling in the sky and realize it was past time for bed and drift off. After a while of this, Minnia realized she was having no such luck.

Minnia takes another path she hadn’t yet taken the overtired child on, and several feet down the way, the two heard music being played. Minnia kept a slow pace, letting the music grow closer and louder gradually in hopes of Ciri falling asleep to it. She felt it was her last chance to succeed in her task that night.

A soft tenor voice sang out the words to a love song, though Minnia could not make out all of the words from their distance just yet. It was a lovely melody and she swayed gently to it, drawing ever closer, hoping to reach the minstrel by the song's conclusion.

Finally, she was able to see him, a young man playing a lute and singing the peaceful and romantic tune. He possessed scruffy brown hair and was dressed in clothes slightly too big for him. "Ah, fair lady," he enthusiastically greeted Minnia as his song came to its close. When she drew close enough, he could tell that she was shushing him and then he spotted the sleeping child in her arms.

"Princess Ciri has just gone off to sleep," she whispered to him. "And that is only thanks to your charming song."

"Thank you. It is one of my own composition. My first, in fact. Well, my first that was any good that is." The bard made sure to keep his voice low as to not wake the sleeping girl in Minnia's arms. Minnia tittered, hoping her laughter wouldn’t jostle the girl awake.

"I should really get her back and put her to bed before she should wake again," Minnia explained, reluctant to part with the cute bard.

"I understand, my lady. I will play you off with the same song, shall I?"

"That would be lovely," Minnia replied, a bright smile lighting up her face in the moonlight. "And thank you again," she added.

"It’s been my absolute pleasure." So he began his song again as Minnia took Ciri back to her bed. And the bard, Jaskier, waved them a goodbye, unseen by either as they disappeared back into the night.

Minnia: @dancingwith-sunflowers, @adrianas-ocs-and-such, @dollvi3e, @borg-queer, @chickensarentcheap, @tropetember

[ohkraken-a]

spots to kiss.

@starfrckled​​ : a kiss on the top of the head.

          heart lifts, beats erratic; that usual rhythmic pulse skipping steps as it makes its way through her chest, directly into that of the man holding her shoulders-- she can tell by the way he grips her, or more how he doesn’t; fingers can barely seem to make purchase at the cloak around her, and although his lips upon her crown spreads a warmth in her veins, there’s a sadness growing, too.

     “me lleuad,” the nickname comes, soft, easily; for he was her moon, and she was the winds, brought forth to dance upon the tides his mere presence could ripple, “you should rest your bones. for a time.”

   she could not ask him to stay forever, consider though she might-- “...” no, no, words would not come. instead, druidess lifts her hand, gently placing it over his, careful, mindful of any movement which may put more stress on the joints she could already sense were pained-- tenderly, ragnheiðr pulled his hand from her shoulder, instead pressing a ginger kiss to the digits. “...you are always welcome to stay.”

          yes, perhaps that would suffice.

[starfrckled-a]

cont    /    @ohkraken​  (  stregobor  )

𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝚂  𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝙷𝙸𝙼  𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙳  𝙰𝙻𝙻  𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁 .  everything  about  the  sorcerer  does ,  at  present .  it  used  to  be  quite  different ,  not  even  too  long  ago ,  certainly  not  for  their  life  span .  stregobor  had  been  someone  mousesack  looked  up  to ,  even  admired ,  but  he  was  younger ,  back  then ,  blind  to  his  true  nature  and  easily  fooled  by  his  enticing  words .  he  can  see  him  clearer  than  he  ever  did  now ,  and  he  does  not  like  what  he  is  met  with ,  it  makes  his  gaze  grow  sharper  and  shoulders  rigid ,  made  stiff  by  an  ache  that  never  healed  right .  the  worst  kind  of  it ,  one  he  feels  powerless  against .   ❛  oh ,  i  see  things  as  they  are  now .  ❜    and  he  really  should  leave  it  at  that ,  should  know  better  than  to  utter  more ,  to  reveal  more ,  leave  him  sore  spots  to  find ,  but  perhaps  that  little  boy  is  still  there  somewhere ,  heart  singed  with  betrayal .    ❛  i  was  a  fool  to  ever  believe  you  could  have  used  your  power  to  do  some  good  in  this  world .  rest  assured ,  i  will  not  make  the  same  mistake  twice .  ❜  

[havenoffandoms]

Hey congrats on 900 followers! Would I be able to request the touch starved prompt from your list with the pairing Aiden/Lambert please? Love all your writing!

Hello!! Thanks for requesting this prompt and this pairing! I’ve been on a right Lambden kick recently, so I felt inspired. I hope you like it! 

Prompt 13: Touch-Starved

Pairing: Aiden x Lambert

Warnings: None

Prompt List

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together. Being stabbed to death in his sleep comes to mind, or having Aiden go all batshit crazy if Lambert dared to beat him at Gwent. Lambert has heard many rumours about Cat witchers in his long life. Cats are batshit crazy. Cats are emotionally volatile. Cats are backstabbing sons of bitches… literally and metaphorically. Cats are bad. Cats are evil, etc, etc. All these rumours circulated in Kaer Morhen long before Lambert even set foot in that ramshackle castle. He was too young to have witnessed the Tournament, but he heard the older witchers talk. Later in his life, when only a handful of wolf witchers were left after the sacking, Eskel gave Lambert a more detailed account of the Tournament.

“The Cats betrayed us, went on a rampage. Killed many wolf witchers in the process. Geralt and I lost many friends that day,” Eskel told him one evening, when the oldest surviving wolf was too far in his cup to notice that he was oversharing. “Radowit’s court mage Astrogarus promised the Cats monopoly on killing monsters within Kaedwen in exchange for attacking the Wolves during the tournament. Turns out Radowit was a backstabbing motherfucker himself. He ordered his soldiers to shoot all of the remaining witchers of both schools in the arena.”

“Lemme guess,” Lambert spoke, his own speech slightly slurred, “pretty boy saved the day?” 

Eskel shook his head. “Fled. Mousesack helped him escape the massacre. Poor bastard never forgave himself for abandonin’ our brothers, but what choice did he have?”

Don’t get Lambert wrong. He’s not saying that Aiden is harmless, far from it. The guy’s lethal with his swords, deadly with a pair of daggers, not to mention a stealthy and clever thief. Aiden is mercurial, hot-tempered and a bit feral when he wants to be, and his morals are at best dubious. Whereas wolf witchers had their emotions beaten out of them at a young age, cat witchers feel too much, too strongly. Lambert’s witnessed Aiden flip tables when peasants beat him at Gwent, but he’s also witnessed the Cat shed a tear after bringing the news to a mother that her son did not survive the ghoul attack two villages down the road. 

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but the Cat had never ceased to surprise him. The most unexpected trait Aiden has displayed to date is his insatiable need for physical contact. It’s not like Lambert hates being touched - he’s only human, albeit a mutated one, but still human. He enjoys a hug as much as the next person, especially when said hug comes from one of his brothers (or, dare he say, Vesemir) at the end of a long and difficult year on the Path. Lambert has also never begrudged a bed partner a post-coital cuddle session. Aiden’s need for physical contact is… on a whole different level. 

The first time it happened, Lambert almost shoved the Cat off him and sent him packing, until he realised that Aiden was not only hugging him, but clinging onto him. His sharp nails were digging in the soft material of Lambert’s shirt, the fabric creaking in protest under the firm grip. When Lambert looked down, he noticed the pinched eyebrows and tears trailing down Aiden’s face. It wasn’t until a broken sob pushed past the Cat’s lips that Lambert reluctantly returned the embrace, arms wound tightly around Aiden’s trembling body. Aiden eventually settled in the safety of Lambert’s arms, his features softening as he sank back into a peaceful slumber. 

Neither mentioned the previous evening’s impromptu cuddling session, but from that moment one, it was like someone had flicked a switch. Aiden came up with every possible fucking excuse to touch Lambert. Their hands would always accidentally graze each other when they packed up camp, or tacked up the horses. Aiden would bump shoulders with him when they were travelling on foot. If they sat next to one another in a tavern, Aiden would press his leg against Lambert’s, and if they were facing each other, a tentative foot would gently nudge Lambert’s shin and linger there. It’s not like Aiden was trying to hide his intentions, either. They rarely paid for two rooms anymore, because even if they did, Aiden would always end up in Lambert’s bed anyway, arms wound around Lambert’s body like a koala clinging to its mother.

Lambert doesn’t hate Aiden’s need for physical proximity, he’s just… confused by it. Aiden rarely takes any lovers to bed, even though he clearly craves physical intimacy. Lambert is more than happy to cuddle with Aiden, especially when they are forced to sleep under the stars and the early autumn frosts begin to settle over the region. It saves them from lighting a campfire, which may attract the wrong kind of attention to them. That’s all that’s ever transpired between the two, though… cuddling. Lambert enjoys the cuddling as much as Aiden does, but for Aiden it seems to be about more than mere enjoyment. The Cat simply refuses to go without physical intimacy which at times can be… alright, it can feel overbearing, but Lambert’s not about to complain, not when most humans turn away from him in disgust and contempt when he tries to chat them up. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, Aiden almost develops a form of separation anxiety. He refuses to let Lambert out of his sight, going so far as to follow the man everywhere, and that’s the moment when Lambert snaps. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asks, his tone hiding none of the irritation he feels at being tailed by this overgrown tomcat. Aiden stops dead in his tracks, his eyes growing wide at Lambert’s words. 

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been following me since this morning… I have errands to run and it’s hard to do that when you’re breathing down my neck!”

Lambert instantly regrets his words the minute they leave his mouth. Aiden’s shoulders visibly sag at Lambert’s comment, his content expression melting into something sadder and the sight tugs at the wolf’s heartstrings in all the wrong ways. Aiden averts Lambert’s eyes shyly, the tip of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink as embarrassment washes over him. Lambert heaves a sigh. Way to act like a fucking dick. 

“Sorry, Aiden. I… I didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but-”

“It’s alright, I… I knew this moment would come eventually.”

“What are you talking about?” Lambert asks, a confused frown etched on his face. Aiden doesn’t look at him when he replies in a voice far too small to belong to the lethal, cocky witcher Lambert has come to know over the past few months. 

“You’re gonna ask me to leave for good. I get it. I… I’ll go back to the room and pack my things.” 

As Aiden turns around to leave, Lambert’s hand shoots out and grabs a hold of Aiden’s wrist. Before Lambert’s brain has a chance to catch up, he finds himself pulling Aiden into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes of judgemental humans meandering the stalls of the midweek market. Aiden looks so unsure now, so vulnerable like this, and it makes Lambert want to wrap the Cat up in warm blankets and cuddle him and forget the world for a while. Instead, he settles on pressing Aiden’s back against the wall and draping himself around the Cat witcher as much as he can. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Lambert breathes in the air pocket between them as he locks eyes with Aiden, “you’ve just been… especially clingy recently. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Aiden averts his eyes once again, but Lambert is quick to grip the other man’s chin and force Aiden to meet his gaze. Even that simple touch pulls a small hiss from Aiden, whose eyes flutter shut as he relishes in the feeling of Lambert touching him anywhere. Lambert purses his lips, eager for an answer. 

“Aiden-”

“Winter is around the corner,” Aiden whispers, his tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. Lambert’s frown deepens. 

“And?”

His question is met with a pointed eye roll from Aiden. 

“And… wolves return to their dens for winter, don’t they? I was just… enjoying the last few weeks in your company before you leave and never come back.”

As the final piece of the puzzle slots into place, understanding dawns on Lambert. He pulls away from Aiden and the small whimper the loss of contact triggers does not go unnoticed. Something old and fragile aches in Lambert’s chest as the meaning of Aiden’s words sink in. Aiden isn’t just worried about being separated from Lambert for a few months, but he’s worried that Lambert will never come back.The wolf links his fingers with his Cat’s, squeezing softly as he leans into Aiden’s space and rubs his bearded cheek against Aiden’s jawline. The latter quickly melts under the soft ministrations, the soft content rumble deepening into a continuous purr as Lambert nuzzles the crook of Aiden’s neck. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

“Yeah, right,” Aiden snorts in response, “cause you’re so good with feelings and shit.”

“Not everyone’s a sappy sentimental bitch like you are,” Lambert teases gently, earning himself a half-hearted slap up the back of the head. “I don’t have to go back to Kaer Morhen this winter.”

Aiden tenses, his soft purring stopping abruptly as he takes in Lambert’s words. Lambert continues to rub his cheek against Aiden’s jaw, his neck, his cheek… wherever he can reach, the action meant to soothe the brewing storm in Aiden’s mind.

“It’s your home,” Aiden offers weakly, “I don’t want… I… it’s your home.” 

“I can send a letter to the old man. Let him know I’m alive. We could find a den somewhere else… an attic somewhere, or an abandoned castle.” Lambert nuzzles the spot right behind Aiden’s ear, earning a pleased hum from the Cat. “Or you could come with me.”

“Sure. Cause that’s gonna end well…” 

“That’s settled then. I’m spending winter with you.”

Aiden pushes Lambert away, their eyes meeting once again but this time, Aiden searches for any trace of a lie in Lambert’s amber gaze. He finds none, because Lambert is one hundred percent honest in his offer. He would ditch Vesemir, Geralt and Eskel for a year to spend it with Aiden… and the thought should scare him more than it does, truthfully. He’s only known the Cat for a few months, and yet… well, maybe Lambert was dreading the winter as well. How about that? It’s not like he felt equally anxious about leaving Aiden, it’s just… fuck off. 

“You mean that?” 

“Mhm. Fair warning… I hate the cold. If I’m spending the winter with you, you’ll have to find a way to keep me warm or I will bite your head off.” 

In Aiden’s defence, he does keep Lambert warm all winter long. Their cuddling finally turns into something more, and from the moment Lambert and Aiden cross that fateful line there is no going back. Aiden becomes insatiable, always seeking Lambert’s body in some shape or form, never letting the wolf out of his sight again.  Lambert may have been apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but it turns out that all his worries were for nothing. Turns out Cat witchers are still crazy, and feral, and mercurial… a tad possessive as well, something Lambert doesn’t hate... but they’re also the cuddliest sons of bitches on the Continent. 

Lambert can live with that, he thinks. 

Request a prompt.

[oathbreaker-oathkeeper]

I started reading the books and I am mad

There are spoilers for both the first two books and the tv show (mostly first season but I make no guarantees) in this post.

This is your final warning.

I’m going to preface this by saying that I am normally someone who very much treats visual media as different than books. I’ve always very firmly believed that it’s just not possible to present everything exactly the same over both media types; I was almost shocked at how upset I was by the end of The Sword of Destiny.

This is not a post to talk about characterization, although I could easily write a post just about the difference between the show and book characters. Yennefer particularly is almost a completely different person in the books. If anyone wants to talk about characterization, feel free to reply or send me an ask.

There is a series of events that happen completely differently in the books and, not only do they make so much more sense, I have no idea why they were changed because different versions of them were filmed. They completely changed everything leading up to Geralt and Ciri finding each other - despite the show seeming to want a similar relationship dynamic between them.

This series of events starts with Pavetta's betrothal banquet. Now, the basic events are pretty much the same: in both the books and show it's revealed that Pavetta is a child of surprise, she marries Duny, Geralt saves Duny's life, and he claims the law of surprise in return at which point Pavetta reveals she's pregnant. The details are different though. In the books, it's clear that Calanthe already knew Pavetta was a child of surprise and that there was a risk of Duny showing up.

The show is more ambiguous as to whether she knows or not. In the books, Calanthe does try to avoid giving Pavetta to Duny but ultimately does without attempting to directly stab him in the throat after saying he can marry her.

The show massacres Calanthe's character (but I'll avoid getting too much into that here). Geralt claims the law of surprise and says he'll come back in six years - at which point Pavetta reveals she's pregnant.

This leads us to six years later. In the books, Geralt returns to Cintra to see the child. He sees a group of children running around, but doesn't realize "his" child is amongst them (he's looking for a boy and ignores the little blonde girl chasing after the others). He talks to Calanthe, who has been doing her research on Witcher trials. She tells him she would give him the child - but she's scared. He tells her he has no intention of taking the child. It's a very bittersweet scene with them both sharing some very personal fears and intense emotions. They part on good terms (essentially flirting even) and Calanthe tells him he is welcome to return. He doesn't and this is the last time Geralt and Calanthe meet and the last time he’s in Cintra before it falls.

Meanwhile, in the show, Geralt never went back to Cintra until just before the battle - at which point he asks that they give him Ciri to protect her and Calanthe locks him up. This leads to show Geralt actually being in Cintra during the battle. He escapes from prison, sees Calanthe jump to her death, and spots Ciri.

In the books, Geralt has actually met Ciri prior to the fall of Cintra. When she was 10 years old, Ciri had been sent to visit another kingdom to see about arranging a betrothal. Ciri wasn't having it and ran away - ending up in Brokilon forest. Geralt also happens to be traveling through Brokilon and comes across her. Ciri knows all about being a child of destiny, knows who Geralt is, and wants to stay with him to fulfill her destiny. Geralt helps her leave the forest and delivers her to Mousesack (who takes Ciri back to Cintra). Ciri is upset that Geralt leaves her.

Continuing with the book story, Geralt later saves the life of the merchant (as in the show) and claims the law of surprise for his reward in that case as well. They travel onwards to the merchant's home and on the way come across Dandelion (Jaskier) who informs them of the fall of Cintra, Calanthe's death, and that presumably Ciri has also died.

They arrive at the merchant's home and his wife informs them that she took in a girl from a refugee camp. The girl is, of course, Ciri - making her a child of surprise twice over. She's delighted to see Geralt because she already knows him and believes in destiny.

Meanwhile in the show we have Calanthe (on her death bed) telling Ciri to find Geralt with no explanation whatsoever. Ciri getting helped by the merchant woman with no explanation whatsoever as to why this woman is helping her. Ciri randomly wandering through the forest into Geralt with no explanation whatsoever.

This leads us to season 2, where suddenly Ciri and Geralt are super bonded? Like they’ve just become father and daughter overnight because destiny is magical?

None of it even makes sense. Why change the story from Ciri being raised knowing her destiny to Ciri being completely unaware? Why did they bother to film Brokilon if it ultimately serves no purpose to advance characters other than for Ciri to decide she wants to follow her destiny? Why did they bother filming Geralt going back to Cintra if it serves no purpose other than for Calanthe to scream “fuck destiny” at him?

I don’t even know what the show runner’s purpose was in removing all of this because they seem to want to end up in the same spot anyway.

[fangirleaconmigo]

Just sitting here on a Sunday afternoon, thinking about Geralt’s name and getting in my feelings. You know. Like you do.

So, in Sword of Destiny, after Geralt tells his mother that Vesemir gave him the name Geralt of Rivia, she replies that Vesemir did not give him his name. The implication is that it did come from her.

Geralt is not a child of surprise. (Mousesack says that he was, but Geralt tells Calanthe it’s not true.) He was a foundling left with Kaer Morhen as a baby. (TWN changed that by making him older, but just talking about the books at the moment)

So, did Visenna leave a note with her baby that specified his name? Or did she speak to Vesemir? Did she ask him to give him the name Geralt, and ask him not to say where it came from? Why? Shame? Or a desire to keep the relationship severed in Geralt’s eyes? Or did Vesemir keep that from him of his own accord? If so, why?

Also, you how Geralt was like…how about Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde? And Vesemir said…actually how about Geralt of Rivia? Either way, he respected her wishes and steered him towards Geralt. He just didn’t tell him why. I wonder why. These are the kinds of things I think about ok?

Also, all due respect to Vesemir, but I just think that Geralt deserved his fancy name. He just wanted to be a knight and to be respected and to be seen as a hero. He just wanted to help. *sobs*

[darkverrmin]

"It was terrible, Mousesack. Jaskier told me he loves me".

"That's wonderful! Wait, why terrible? Aren't you in love with him, too?".

"Yes. But it's what I replied to him".

"...Did you thank him?"

"I thanked him".

[dkniade]

Multimedia Narrative Analysis: Geralt and Jaskier Recap

Note: Spoilers for The Witcher season 2.

I watched Netflix’s season 1 recap of Geralt and Jaskier’s relationship in their video “Geralt and Jaskier: The Butcher and the Bard”.

First impression: THIS HURTS OH FUCK

Then: The music choice along with clip choice for video is absolutely beautiful, narrative-wise.

Why does it hurt? Well—

I’ll be analysing how the music, voiceovers, and clips — but mostly one of Jaskier’s songs — work together to narrate the development of Geralt and Jaskier’s friendship throughout the video. This will be broken down into sections with timestamps.

Grab a seat. Get your coin ready. Let’s take a look.

——

Jaskier Gets Intrigued

00:00 — 0:49

We first see Jaskier’s first appearance as a humble bard in the tavern (season 1, episode 2: “Four Marks”). He just got stuff thrown at him, he’s got a bad reputation, but nonetheless, his reputation right now is “just some bard”.

Then the poppy medieval court music starts. We see Jaskier looking at something, intrigued. And with the music, it’s almost like a “two people lock eyes at a banquet and there was a spark” scene (NOT NECESSARILY in a romantic way). They’re still at the early stages of their friendship.

Jaskier’s voiceover goes, “You’re the Witcher. I love the way you just… sit in the corner and brood.”

Straight off the bat, Jaskier’s voice is filled with intrigue, and he’s very much hooked to this new mysterious warrior dude. The next few voiceovers support that.

The tone becomes dramatic, but the court music continues. “You smell of death and destiny. Heroics and… heartbreak.”

Putting that line together with the visuals, it introduces also us to Geralt’s character and his deal with Yennefer and Ciri in this manner (content warning for slight eye horror and slight nudity):

“You smell of death”

“and destiny.”

“Heroics and…”

“Heartbreak.”

So now we know those three have a big thing going on. They’re each others’ destiny; you constantly hear this in the show; yada yada yada.

Next shot, Geralt replies, “It’s onion.” The dramatic/mundane contrast makes it comedy. More court music; that doesn’t change.

Next shot, drama again. “I’m here to drink alone.”

But best of all:

Jaskier: Right. So stick close to me, look mean, and pretend you’re a mute. Can’t have anyone finding out who you actually are.

Mousesack: (loudly) Geralt of Rivia! The mighty Witcher!

Anyway, let’s move on. We've got better things yet.

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

The Friendship Melody and the Importance of Toss a Coin

0:50 — 1:24

Musically, the iconic melody of “Toss A Coin To Your Witcher” comes in, signalling the start of the section and the two’s friendship developing.

It’s worth noting we’re hearing the leading melody of, “When a humble bard graced a ride along…”. Of course, the most well-known melody “Toss a coin to your witcher” also comes in later, with the Djinn scene, however…

I want to talk about that leading melody.

Thanks to the groundwork laid in season 1, we associate the leading melody of the song with the happy times of those two. You hear the melody, you think Geralt and Jaskier’s good friendship.

It’s the Friendship Melody, if you will. This is important in this recap. More on that later.

Then we hear Jaskier saying, “Look, I promised to change the public’s tune about you.”

It’s dedication; the friendship is stronger. Jaskier is no longer simply thinking, “Oh, that’s an interesting guy” but instead it’s, “I will make sure the public loves him and hears his stories.”

The scenes (S1 E5: “Bottled Appetites”) where Geralt takes Jaskier to Yennefer’s small stone building is Geralt’s side of the friendship.

And this is also where a specific line in the refrain of “Toss a Coin To Your Witcher” comes in. Jaskier is unconscious but with this song he clearly spells out his feelings for Geralt.

“Toss a coin to your Witcher, a friend of humanity.”

Geralt: He’s a…

Yennefer: A friend?

Geralt: …

Geralt’s very conflicted here. Jaskier has drastically changed his reputation as a Witcher, and even calls him “a friend of humanity”. Yennefer is asking the same thing.

But Geralt doesn’t feel the same level of friendship towards Jaskier. And what’s more, someone’s pointed out this lack of friendliness.

The last shot of this section, where Jaskier sits down beside Geralt, wanting to lean on him, is the tender soft moment before what goes down in—

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

The Argument

1:25 — 1:53

THE dragon hunt episode, the argument, the final straw, the heartbreak that is season 1 episode 6: “Rare Species”.

The music transitions with a gust of wind to something much more dramatic. The visuals appropriately show the dangers during the hunt.

Poor Jaskier just wants to be with Geralt, so the voiceover goes, “What if we leave tomorrow?” and “That is, if you’ll give me another chance.”

And then the climax comes in with Geralt yelling at Jaskier and ending the friendship with his anger issues. The music heightens to the same level as well, supporting the mood of the section.

Geralt: Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it’s YOU, shovelling it!?

Jaskier: That’s not fair--

Geralt: The Child Surprise, the Djin, ALL of it! If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take YOU… off my hands.

THEN, the heat of the music calms down. Jaskier, hurt, says coldly, “See you around, Geralt.” This is a key moment of change for Jaskier as a character, because he’s been the comic relief throughout season 1.

But remember what I said earlier about the leading melody of that song?

We hear a sad piano chord, but not just any sad piano chord--

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

But Make It Sad

1:54 -- 2:04

The sad piano chord of the leading melody of “Toss A Coin To Your Witcher”.

First reaction: I DID NOT EXPECT THAT.

And this hurts. This hurts not only because of the contrast between the previous section’s rage and this section’s sadness.

Rather, this works because thanks to the musical groundwork the song’s laid for us in season 1, we already associate the leading melody of the song with Jaskier and Geralt’s friendship.

But we’ve never heard this sad piano arrangement in the show ever.

The visuals go from Jaskier leaving, then slowly fades to black, and fade back to Jaskier’s broken lute in S2 E4 “Redanian Intelligence”.

So musically pairing the Friendship Melody with a sad tone, and visually pairing it with the image of Jaskier’s broken lute is what makes the scene hurt in this recap.

But that’s not all.

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

The Friendship Melody II

2:05 -- 2:13

Immediately after the broken lute clip, we see a shot of Geralt again, looking at someone. His eyes are visibly wide and sad rather than the usual sternness.

And if Geralt shows up with a sad look while the Friendship Melody plays, that must mean he’s looking at…

Jaskier.

Rightfully so, the next shot is Jaskier, with the piano doing a little flourish.

The two hug it out. Music goes up the octave and repeats the melody.

With the piano continuing, the final shot is the Witcher title animation coming in, and the piano does another flourish. It’s bittersweet, but it gives us hope because it’s reconciliation. Then, end scene.

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

But really, I just wanted to talk about the piano arrangement of “Toss A Coin To Your Witcher” and why it hurt. I hope you liked this little analysis of the recap. Thank you for reading, and please take care.

[jaskiersvalley]

Your safari au. Please. I need it. Water my crops with tigers and hyenas and witchers. Grabby hands and pleading faces in abundance here.

You are after my heart, Nonnie. And considering I've only talked about the Safari AU on Novigrad, I will happily assume you're lurking on there and I love you for it. Tweaked a little to add in a hyena just for you.

Lions and Tigers and Bears

Taking over a park was no easy feat, especially not when it came with a reputation like Nilfgaard had. Eskel scratched his head as he poured over the various financial reports, wondering just how much of it could be trusted. The problem was Nilfgaard had been a shining beacon in the animal conservation world, exceptional facilities, high enrichment for the animals and a successful rehabilitation rate. If there was ever an animal in need of a place, Nilfgaard had been first choice for years. All that came tumbling down in light of the revelation that Nilfgaard had been trading illegally, their animals sold to private owners as exotic pets or, even worse, hunters who wanted a guaranteed, easy kill. The place had been shut down immediately, a skeleton crew kept on to tend to the animals but nothing more. Management was on trial and Kaer Morhen had won the bid to take over. Though small and mostly unknown, nobody else had wanted to touch the remnants of Nilfgaard so they were quite uncontested in their bid. What had seemed like a good idea at the time, an noble because it was in the interest of the animals, now was an absolute headache.

Between the three of them, Geralt, Eskel and Lambert could split most of the urgent work. They had Jaskier working on rebranding, Yennefer managing the board and Vesemir as the head. It left them free to run the day to day of the park, learning the animals as well as the people who they had kept on. But they were going to need more people to actually help the place flourish and regain its standing in the community. Which meant asking the heads of departments for who should be kept on and what roles to recruit for from scratch. The easy ones were things like hospitality, Zoltan had a firm grip on the needs of the park and its visitors, knew all the catering firms and how to run a tight ship. So it was one less headache for them. Eredin had stepped up as Head of Security readily once it was proven he had no knowledge of the animal smuggling. Again, his familiarity with the park was a boon, as were his connections, putting together a security team that could be trusted. Much more messy was the animal welfare section. Fringilla, much like Eredin, had stepped up to become interim Head Zookeeper and was doing her best. While they were understaffed, Geralt, Eskel and Lambert helped out where they could but much of their time was spent getting to know the routine of the park and its many animals.

"We need to know who we can trust," Lambert grumbled, leaning over the table where they had personnel files open. "It's impossible to know who was in on things and who wasn't."

Though, in all likelihood, none of the lower level workers knew that when they helped usher one of their beloved animals into a crate, they weren't sending them off to another facility or a happily ever after. But it was something they just couldn't risk.

"May I?" Fringilla asked, eyes roving over all the files. At Geralt's gesture, she began pulling some of them out. "You'll want Triss, she was a vet here, promote her to senior or chief or whatever you call it. She's solid. And Sabrina, she's great, works well with Triss. Retain Istredd, Mousesack, Calanthe and Eist too. oh, and Letho for the reptile house." As she spoke, she kept looking with a small frown.

"Missing someone?" Eskel asked. Nodding, Fringilla frowned. Without much care for manners, she walked to the cupboards and began pulling out files until she hit the folder of resignations and terminations. From there, she pulled out one last file.

"You'll want him."

The folder was taken from her and the three peered at it with varying levels of frowns.

"You want us to hire someone who was terminated for gross misconduct? Whose notes suggest he abused animals and has blacklisted from working with animals?"

"No. I want you to meet the whistle-blower. Cahir's the one who found out about the trafficking and reported it. Nilfgaard didn't take kindly to it and retaliated."

Not sold on the idea, Lambert crossed his arms over his chest. "His file doesn't look exceptional. Personally, if he applied for a job, I'm not sure he shines enough to even be called in for an interview."

It was a sentiment echoed by the other two and Fringilla had to fight to hold back a sneer. "Invite him in and judge for yourselves. Just because his record doesn't have a quantifiable or gradable measure of commitment doesn't mean he won't be fantastic. If we ever have a new animal in that doesn't need to stay hospitalised, I wouldn't want anyone but Cahir to help settle it in. Especially the younger ones and babies."

Against their better judgement, the three decided to follow Fringilla's advice and e-mailed Cahir an interview offer. The reply was terse but assured them that he would be there at the agreed time.

First impressions were, to put gently, not great. Cahir looked rumpled, bags under his eyes and his attitude was rather sullen. It didn't bode well as they sat in the office, Cahir an odd mix of defiant and subservient. At least Fringilla had the grace to push the interview forward as much as she could until even she sighed and leaned back.

"Why don't we walk through some of the enclosures? Make sure you still remember what's where."

As they walked, Eskel ended up next to Cahir, who seemed content to not talk. That didn't stop Eskel from trying to initiate conversation.

"So, what have you been doing in the three months since you left here?"

"Tried to survive."

The blunt answer had Eskel blinking, there were many things he expected but not that. "Oh?"

For the first time Cahir actually looked at him, sadness bleeding through his half glare. "I used to live on site, worked for Nilfgaard from the age of 15, took a full time post at 18 and moved into the small cottage in the southern corner of the land. They fired me, I lost everything."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them as Eskel tried to figure out just how much of Cahir's so story was an exaggeration. "Have you been living with friends then?"

"For a few weeks, yeah." Cahir actually scoffed. "I've been trying to get a job and living in a hostel off savings. Turns out, only having in-house qualifications does not bode well for prospects in the world at large."

Fringilla led them into an enclosure where the grass was high. From the looks and smells, Eskel would have guessed it was a tiger's habitat but he wasn't familiar enough with the park yet to know. He would have hesitated going in, especially in a group like they were but Eskel had to trust Fringilla as she came to a stop and they stood in a loose circle.

The house Cahir had mentioned was one Eskel was familiar with. They had often wondered why it was empty yet well kept. It had felt like a life interrupted when they had a look round, nothing personal there yet it didn't have the empty, unlived-in feel of a show home. In a way, Eskel was regretting just how poorly Cahir's interview was going because he could easily see them offering his house back as part of a contract.

"So why are we here?" Lambert's words broke Eskel's reverie. "I thought we wanted to go on a walk."

It was by pure chance that Eskel caught Fringilla's smirk at Cahir and the slightest softening of that stern expression in return. Clicking his tongue, Cahir shot Lambert a look. "Tell me, have you ever been stalked by a tiger before?"

"No."

"You sure about that?" Cahir clicked his tongue twice and the world burst into motion. From the long grass a tiger pounced and Eskel was not ashamed to admit he let out a surprised yell. He wasn't the only one though, Lambert gasping, hand at his mouth and shoulders up as the tiger took Cahir out. They went tumbling and only Geralt looked like he might lurch into action, taking half a step towards the animal and Cahir. It would have been hopeless though, the two were wrestling on the ground until Cahir was on his back, tiger hunched above him.

The first thing Eskel noticed was how Cahir's face was creased into a happy grin. He looked younger, relaxed and happy ever as the tiger licked a large stripe from jaw, up his chin to his hairline. All Cahir did was laugh.

"Yes, yes, I missed you too, Princess," he said. fingers loosened from the fur in the tiger's neck and petted along her nose with the ease of familiarity.

"What the actual fuck?!" Lambert all but screeched. "What the fuckity fucking fuck?"

Eskel had the sense to look to Fringilla for answers, even if he wanted to watch Cahir with the tiger. The change in the man wasn't something he could have predicted. Gone was the sullen, defensive and standoffish air, replaced by an easy smile and a look of serene happiness as Cahir looked at the tiger, checking her over out of habit, muttering about dirty ears and mucky paws as he went.

"That is what you won't ever learn from a CV and qualifications," Fringilla said. She was absolutely looking smug. "Princess came to us at 9 months old, from a circus. Had terrible separation anxiety and a host of other issues too. She wasn't doing well despite our best efforts. At least, not until Cahir took her home and cared for her during the nights rather than leave her in a hospital cage. He introduced her to independence, slept out in the open with her for a few weeks when she was ready to transition to outdoors." Much more quietly, she added, "She's not the only animal he'd done that for. To find out some of his beloved children have been sold hit him hard. I don't think I'd ever seen him cry before then."

Turning back, Eskel watched as Cahir was sat on the ground, tiger with her back to him. The slightly strained "oh no you don't" from Cahir was lost as the tiger pushed up onto her hind legs and flopped backwards. Had she been smaller, Cahir would have probably caught her like a baby. As it was, he grunted as the weight crashed across his legs and he had a happily chuffing tiger's belly to tickle.

"I assume you'd vouch for him?" Geralt asked.

"In a heartbeat." Fringilla grinned at Cahir but it was lost on him, so focused on Princess as he was. The others might as well have stopped existing. That was the moment Eskel knew his heart was in danger. It didn't get easier as time went on. Hiring Cahir was proving to be a good decision. He just got on with the work, never finding anything distasteful or below him to do. If it needed doing, he got it done.

Over time he opened up too, Eskel found himself wandering down to the southern corner of the park to the little house that was now full of life. He got used to Cahir usually having a baby or two in his care. Sometimes he babysat for Letho's hatchlings, content to have baby snakes trying to look around his arms as they learned how to cope with being handled. The friendship between the two was one Eskel couldn't claim to understand but they seemed to make it work.

"Knock knock," he announced himself by the open back door.

"Come on in," Cahir called as he wandered out of the kitchen. "I'm just finishing making dinner, care to join me?"

That was new too, Cahir was inviting Eskel into his life more and more. It made Eskel feel even better about what he was planning to ask at Fringilla's instructions.

"I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow. There's a new arrival that we think will need your assistance."

Cahir cocked an eyebrow and held up an empty plate in question again. At Eskel's nod he began loading. "Anything you can tell me about it?"

"Not much. Private collector got raided, had a few animals in his less than tender care."

"So they'll be part socialised, part traumatised. I can work with that."

Somehow, Eskel had no doubts about that. But he was holding back some information because Fringilla had told him to keep it a surprise. The next morning the transport van rolled in, a small group of them ready to handle the newest arrivals. There were a couple of pythons for Letho to bring into his fold, a parrot for Guxart to train into swearing. Last was a large crate. As interesting as it was, Eskel's eyes were on Cahir, the way his nostrils flared as he caught scent of the hyena. The box opened and the animal cautiously peered out.

"Dave!" Cahir exclaimed, all semblance of quiet professionalism gone as he hopped off the top of the crate he'd helped open.

If his reaction had been exuberant, it was nothing compared to the hyena's. They collided next to the box, all over each other.

"I missed you buddy." There were tears running down Cahir's cheeks as Dave alternated between butting into him and running tight, excited circles around him before settling down and trying to bodily press into him. Glancing up, Cahir gave Fringilla a wobbly smile. "How did you find her?"

Her? Last Eskel checked, Dave was a male name. Still, he wasn't going to interrupt the tender reunion with such a dumb question.

"She was part of a collector's hoard. Didn't have the right permits so he was made to give her up to those who could offer her proper care."

A broken "thank you" was whispered in her direction before Cahir buried his face in the hyena's neck. Eskel watched with so many questions. Thankfully Fringilla didn't miss that fact.

"She was born in captivity, originally assumed to be a boy, needed to be hand reared after mum rejected her. She never understood that she wasn't human and as a result has spent most of her life living with Cahir. We've tried so often to introduce her to a pack but she never took to them, content to stay with them for a day, two at a push before she starts pining. When Nilfgaard sold her, that's when Cahir got suspicious, did some digging and realised she hadn't gone to another park. So Dave is a catalyst for this whole fiasco if you will."

Watching them, Eskel nodded. He had a hyena to befriend if he wanted to keep Cahir in his life it would seem.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 10- Before A Fall

Summary: With your heart torn from the troublesome events on the mountain, your mind in swirling with mixed emotions for your Witcher and the violet eyed witch you’re bound to. Now where will you choose to go as a war begins brewing on the horizon?

Warning: some angst, more reader backstory​

Masterlist

You had let yourself wallow in your sadness and anger for some time now upon another far off peak of the mountains. You couldn't look back, you couldn't even bare to turn around and fly yourself into the arms of Geralt after what he had done.

It hurt.

But you couldn't forgive so easily as you'd like to, he had made a promise almost fifty years ago to never let magic manipulate your lives in anyway. To never use dark powers against you, no spells, no enchantments, no sorcerers, nothing that could alter your reality or bend your will. Nothing to bind your very vessel to in any way, shape, or form.

He promised.

He knew your hate for how magic can ruin and destroy with simple words and rash actions. But alas, Geralt made his wish and now it can never be broken. Although you had to admit, the intended sentiment was heartfelt after all. His wish was to keep you bound to Yennefer for as long as you two are alive, his intentions were so that you'd never feel alone when he's gone and dead.

Considering you'll most likely outlive him, unless someone was to slice you open with silver and set your corpse on fire, or better yet. Get yourself mauled to death by a goddamn werewolf, what a way to go, either option not really settling well with you. But perhaps you'd never given it much thought, what would you do after Geralt left this world? You couldn't say, nor did you care to think about it, nor did you want to think about it.

But now, you're forever linked to Yennefer until the end of her days or maybe yours. You could almost laugh, how clever of destiny to bind your cares and concerns with a mage, and forever at that. She's half elf and you're a dhampir, neither of you are aging much anytime soon or even at all for that matter. You may have kept your time in Aretuza and your old friendship with Yennefer a thing of the past, but now you must accept your fate.

Maybe this is destiny?

Hate should not seep its inky talons into your soul, nor should lasting anger burn like dragon fire in your heart. You did once have a good friendship with the lavender eyed sorceress for many years, but your paths had gone separate ways when she was called to court and the mages of Aretuza began to drive you mad with their constant bickering and pettiness with one another.

Your time in the great academy transpired into a violent end when one bold admirer had attempted to charm you with his admittedly strong love potion, you had left those halls half naked and covered in his blood once you'd found the strength to break through the spell. Not one mage had dared make an effort to stop you, they understood their fellow enchanters deathly mistake and for that they let you leave without so much as a word.

You felt disgusted for letting yourself get sweet talked and manipulated by his charming aurora and false heartfelt words. You didn't even notice when he handed you a sweet smelling mystery liquid, it tasted fine going down and within seconds did you feel lust take over your body for the alluring man. But another part of you didn't want how you felt, it wasn't right, it didn't feel right. But he looked so good, and you wanted him, but did you?

In the end you had snapped out of it as half your clothing was littering the floor, he was smiling a triumphant grin from beneath your clothed legs as your fuzzy mind cleared, your heart fuming with rage as he kept oblivious to your realization. A second later did you enjoy hearing his screams of agony as you sunk your sharp pearly white fangs deep into his naked jugular, it all happened so fast. He scratched at your body as you pinned him down and ripped open his stomach, making certain to crush his prized jewels as your last final act of revenge, leaving him bruised and bleeding out upon his bed when you fled the room.

He had taken nothing but your pride. Yet he payed for it with his life.

You could hear his ragged final breaths as you flew down the enchanted hallways of Aretuza, collecting your belongings and fleeing the giant castle before you took it upon yourself to end anymore despicable lives residing in that academy.

You didn't bother telling Tissaia, she would figure it out eventually.

And as for Yennefer, she was living as a mage in luxury.

But as you stand upon this rocky ledge it all seems like a bad dream, perhaps it was just all constructed in a past life? Feels like it, but alas, it is far behind you and Yennefer was gone from the academy when it all happened. It was not her fault, you truly have no right to hate her.

So you won't. Is this still destiny?

Taking a deep breath you slowly let all your troubles and resentments out and into the dusty breeze as you stand high upon the jagged shelf of the mountainside. It's been three days since the taxing events after the dragon hunt, when all truths had been revealed and you had left Geralt in your rage. You'll find him again without a doubt in your mind, when the time is right and your infuriation has subsided. Then you will seek him out and make amends, but for now, as you brood into the sunset you can't help but feel torn to go and speak with Yennefer, you must.

Something just doesn't feel right in the air, you're pinning it on the grand mass of marching Nilfgaardian soldiers you had spotted to the west only yesterday. A great enemy of Cintra, and an impending threat to the innocent lives of nearby villagers. You close your eyes as a soft breeze caresses your face, you've made up your mind, it's time to find your old friend.

No more anger.

-meanwhile in the underkeeps of Cintra-

Geralt leans against a stone wall, listening for the footsteps of Mousesack, doing his best to keep you out of his thoughts for the time being so he can focus on the task at hand. He may not have you in his mind at the moment, but his heart has not stopped feeling dreary with heavy regret and anguish for how you had left him so suddenly.

It's been a week, still too long, he thinks.

He truly did not mean to upset you so, but when he made that wish, his mind was only concerned with keeping you happy for the next thousand years when he rots in the earth and your body flows with life. Though now he feels quite foolish for such a burdensome wish upon yourself, binding a part of your soul to Yennefer and hers with your own. So no matter wherever you two will travel, a strange call to one another will always remain in the back of your minds.

Like a shadow.

Geralt's ears prick with the sounds of rushed footfalls against the stony ground as the mage quickly approaches him from down the long shadowy hallway, "Out of nowhere, you send word to meet you. All this time, I thought you were dead." Exclaims Mousesack as Geralt turns to face him from around the corner.

"I told you last time I was in Cintra that I wasn't coming back."

Mousesack eyes him suspiciously, "Yet here you are." The Witcher hums in reply as Mousesack asks for an answer to Geralt's random appearance, a telling smirk upon his face as he walks closer, "You've come for your Child of Surprise, haven't you?"

"The opposite. I want you to tell me that he's safe and healthy so I can keep on riding."

Geralt turns from Mousesack and begins walking down the hallway as the mage smiles, "He....is a girl." Geralt abruptly turns around at the surprising news, "Princess Cirilla has been raised by Calanthe since her parents died."

"What?" Whispers Geralt, shocked by the news.

"Pavetta and Duny's ship was lost at sea. Have you been hiding your head in the sand?" The greying mage pauses for a moment, brow furrowing, "Why now? Why do you think she's not safe?"

"I saw an army making camp at the Amell Pass. A sea of black and gold." Replies Geralt.

Mousesack nods, "Nilfgaard is set on sweeping the Continent. But since that night at Pavetta's banquet, the Queen's done everything she can to keep her family safe from threats. Shut the walls. Fortified the gates." A shadow flashes against the walls as rushed footsteps befall upon the ground, grabbing Geralt's attention as he leans in closer to the mage, eyes dark.

"Sent assassins!" He growls.

"What?"

"Were you followed?"

"No." Answers Mousesack honestly.

Geralt sneers at the grey bearded man before turning and walking towards the sound of the hidden killers, Mousesack's brow furrows in confusion, "Why don't you just have your lady dhampir Y/N slay them for you and avoid such a wasteful chase? She can't be far now can she, never one to linger from your side for very long."

Geralt halts in his tracks, his mind reeling before he turns an eye to the wondering mage, "She was summoned back to her homeland. Something important, she couldn't say....so I didn't ask. I'm on my own." His voice is gravely as he lies, shifting his attention back to the opening entrance of another hallway to continue his hunt for the assassins. Mousesack left speculating if this tale has any truth to it or not, wisely deciding not to press the subject any further.

——

It hadn't been very difficult to find her, all you had to do was concentrate and let the magic given unto you by the djinn lead yourself into the direction of Yennefer like a compass. When you let it work, it seemed a rather simple task to begin your hunt for the notorious mage.

It took about a week or so to find her, you had decided to travel like a civilized person and ride to her whereabouts on the back of a silver steed. Your horse bringing you to a huge excavation site where a part of the Nilfgaard army is currently stationed, directing their workers and no doubt captured slaves to dig and scrape away at the rocky hillside for whatever the fuck type of obsidian looking rock. You could honestly care less for their troubles, the problems of these people of little concern to you.

After riding down a dirt covered road and past the tired faces of burnt-out workers you stopped by a wooden cart, tying your horse next to another. You finish the knot and step into the road, catching the scent of your friend who's aroma is still fresh, she's close, her trail leading into a nearby makeshift tavern.

"Where are you coming from, my lady?"

You stop in your tracks as a dirty faced Nilfgaardian soldier keeps you from your search, handing him a fake smile you catch his light brown eyes, "Nowhere too interesting I'm afraid."

He nods, thinking hard for a moment, his heartbeat picking up with nervousness, "W-well, if you're here to seek aid from a mage, the, uh...tavern is that way. Good day then." He stumbles quickly in reply, no doubt unnerved by your scarlet eyes and friendly sharp grin.

What a man he is.

And just like that he's gone, smiling contently with yourself and this odd bit of luck, you make for the titular gathering house with cheap ale or perhaps the tavern as it's called. Once you reach about ten feet from the opened wooden door do you stop, the familiar voices of Yennefer and Istredd, her first lover from Aretuza, fill your ears as they speak about their past dealings and Yenn's thirst for power over most things, including their relationship.

More things are said before he stands up to leave, but before he's able to catch you in his sights do you turn around and narrowly miss being found out, he'd definitely remember you. Istredd trudges past, oblivious as you listen to the whispered voice of a new man joining Yennefer at her table. He claims himself to be Vilgefortz of Roggeveen, another mage, of fucking course.

Folding your arms in annoyance you walk over to lean your back against the side of the tavern and listen as he tells Yennefer how Nilfgaard is seeking out mages for their conquests, quietly noting that they should return to Aretuza before any soldiers start asking for their assistance. She sounds doubtful until he lets known that Tissaia and himself need her nonetheless, apparently shits important, who would have thought. You can't help but roll your eyes as Vilgefortz practically sweet talks her, explaining that Tissaia said that Yennefer is the best student she's ever taught.

And that's it, Yennefer's sold.

You could never ignore getting yourself buttered up, huh Yenn.

The friendly mage abruptly stands up, telling Yennefer to meet him in half an hour by the north gate before he says his goodbyes and exits through the opened door, right past you. You watch in curiosity as he walks off before turning yourself towards the entrance and stepping into the doorway, you look down to your right. Making quick eye contact with Yennefer's violet irises, she immediately frowns as you sit across from her, though she is quite taken aback at your random intrusion.

A smirk plays at your lips, "Well aren't you just having the time of your life. Quite popular today aren't we now?"

Yennefer rolls her eyes in annoyance, "What the fuck are you doing here?" She says dryly, you lean back in your chair as a fangy grin breaks out upon your face.

"I could ask you the same thing but....I'm not an idiot. You came back to rekindle that old flame with Istredd, how sweet, honestly. Who would've thought."

"Oh fuck off Y/N."

A light chuckle escapes you, "Don't be so dramatic Yenn, I didn't leave Geralt's ass and travel all this way for nothing...."

"You left him?" She wonders, her brows furrowing, honestly quite surprised.

A telling sigh falls from your lips, "For the time being, I'm still pissed over the whole djinn and his last wish. So here I am, sitting in a shit tavern with an old acquaintance, also...I wanted to make sure you don't hate me. Believe it or not, I do care about you Yennefer, and that's not the magic speaking. So with that in mind, I've witnessed what Nilfgaard has been doing lately and it doesn't look good." You shrug, "Guess I wanted to make sure you where fine."

She glances down at her hands before finding your scarlet eyes, "I can't tell if that's the Aretuza Y/N, or the magic talking." Her voice almost playful.

"Maybe it's both? But can I not give a shit for once about anyone other than myself? I mean look around us." You glance at the tired out workers and Nilfgaardian soldiers before leaning in closer to Yennefer, "Things are changing, soon these valleys will be covered in blood, people fighting for survival, the land ablaze and destroyed from war. I've lived enough lifetimes to have seen it happen over and over again."

She nods slowly, taking in what you're saying, "Yes, so it seems. But last I'd remembered, you've never really cared much for the troubles of other kingdoms. Even your own for that matter."

"I don't." Your reply blunt and to the point, "But this is Nilfgaard, and though I could care less about the reasoning behind their conquests. I know who they seek to bring their wrath upon."

"Cintra." She whispers.

"Yes." You pause for a moment as three soldiers clad in black armor walk past your table and towards the bar, your wary eyes trail them before turning your attention back to Yennefer, "And I'd rather not have innocent lives taken by the hands of filthy soldiers, I could live without smelling blood in the air and the rotting of children's corpses." You let out a breath before leaning in and keeping your voice to that of a whisper, "Geralt's Child of Surprise resides in that kingdom, within the walls of Cintra. I do not care for the little shit in the slightest, but by law this child will be in our care soon enough. Whether I want to meet him or not."

She nods, understanding your concerns for the invading forces of Nilfgaard, "That's quite the predicament Y/N."

"Yes." You lean back once again, folding your arms as you tilt your head to the side, "Almost as intriguing as your own one." You add with a smirk.

"What did you hear?"

"The mage, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen seems to have caught you in his sights. And how interesting, it appears our old friend Tissaia is in need of you after all these long years." You study her face, her lavender eyes downcast as she thinks, "You're going aren't you?"

"I need answers Y/N." Her eyes are on yours once again, "It doesn't make much sense I'll admit, but it's been a long while and I have nothing keeping me here anyways." She confesses honestly, you tap the hilt of your dagger, thinking hard.

"Do as you wish, I will not stop you. Have fun with those self entitled idiots." You sneer, she simply smiles at your usual disgust for the mages of Aretuza. You stare at her, your face falling as you shake your head.

"Yennefer don't."

She leans herself closer to you, her eyes almost pleading, you haven't heard the words but just looking at her can you tell exactly what she's about to ask, "Y/N. Against my better judgment...I'm asking, I guess....would you join me. Please?"

Pursing your lips together you stare at the table before finding her gaze once more, every ounce of your entire vessel screaming for you to say no, though you can't help but feel drawn to follow, "God I hate magic." You mutter, shaking your head.

"You were the one who came to find me after all, remember? Make sure I'm fine and not dead." She muses with a mischievous spark in her eye.

"Well aren't you lucky that I have no solid plans for the next week but brood in the woods and think of all by problems." You deadpan before an apprehensive half smile pulls at the corners of your lips, "Why the fuck not? Lets pay Tissaia a visit shall we."

——

After the debacle of mysterious assassins in the underkeeps of the Cintran castle, Mousesack had saved Geralt from a possible demise when he teleported them elsewhere amongst the grounds. Now the Witcher follows him to find Queen Calanthe and hopefully greet this Child of Surprise he's been promised no matter how much he'd rather not be here. How he wishes you where by his side to lighten the mood, things would undoubtedly run smoother.

He passes under a stone archway leading into a courtyard where the Queen has her back turned to them, she's speaking to her loyal guardsmen while eyeing up the weaponry before her. She moves down the tabled lined with swords, "I want reports from the Amell Pass every hour.." Her head moves right at the sounds of Geralt and Mousesack approaching, her dark eyes lock with Geralt's golden ones. She looks stoic and loathsome to see him again, even after all these years.

Swords unsheathe behind her, "I warned you about coming back. I've been away 12 years and I planned on staying that way till you sent eight men to kill me."

She takes a couple threatening steps forward, "Well, I'm asking you now. Do not do this."

"If you treated me more as a friend then a threat...Do you know the difference anymore?" He pauses as she says nothing, "I'm here to protect the girl."

"Who I've raised as my own." Counters Calanthe, "Why would I give my only heir to someone who never cared enough to come back to her? Move along, Witcher. I'll pay whatever you want." She turns her back to leave.

"I cannot be bought." She trains her irritated gaze back to Geralt, "You should remember."

"Money can't undo the Law of Surprise." Says Mousesack, "Kings who've tried to outbid destiny end up on pikes."

"And if I win the war but lose Ciri, what victory is that?" Challenges the Queen as Geralt takes a  step forward, her men showing their weapons as they stand ready to guard her.

"Maybe that army won't come, and if they do, maybe you'll be ready. But if you have any doubt in your mind that she's safe here, give her to me. Call it destiny, insecurity, what larger forces at work, I don't care. I will take her, protect her, and bring her back unharmed, I promise you that."

"Ciri is all I have left of my daughter." Whispers the Queen, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"If Ciri survives, then Pavetta lives on too." Geralt leaves it at that, remaining silent as Calanthe's mind reels with what to do next. He can tell just how terrified she is to possibly lose Ciri, however she must make a choice. No matter how difficult it is to make.

"Law of Surprise has been called!" Announces the Queen to her guardsmen and subjects in the snow covered courtyard, voice more softer and solemn now as she faces Geralt, "I'll tell Cirilla myself."

With that said, Geralt was escorted to a separate section of the castle as he awaits the meeting between himself and princess Cirilla. He paces back and forth down the hallway for a good long while until a guard was sent for him. Now here he is, walking towards the door where the Child of Surprise awaits him with her Queen grandmother. Two armored men simultaneously open the large wooden door, Geralt walks into the cavernous room where Mousesack looks up at him while the doors close. They do not say a word to each other.

Calanthe sits, consoling a frightened Ciri who's back is turned to Geralt, she holds the girls hands, "I need you to be brave now, because who are you?"

"The Lion Cub of Cintra." Replies the blonde girl, voice small and fragile.

She then stands, turning around to finally face him. He walks further into the room, golden eyes studying the face of princess Cirilla. She is short and thin, eyes wide and fearful, face pale as a flushed nervousness pulls to the surface, "Pleased to meet you, Princess." Greets the Witcher.

She speaks not once to him, she then abruptly turns to face the Queen by her side, "Can I say goodbye to my friends now?"

"Of course." Nods Calanthe as Cirilla leaves with haste out the side door. Geralt remains quiet as she glares at him, "I'll summon you when she's ready."

Geralt exits through the same doors he came through, he walks down the hallway, pausing a moment as he thinks on the brief interaction. Something just doesn't sit right with him about that girl, she just didn't look how he'd imagined her to be. She can't be Pavetta's child, can she? He shakes off those thoughts and decides to wander down a long torch lit hallway leading out into an opened yard where people are wandering about.

Suddenly the princess runs into view, she races over to a gathering of market kids playing some kind of game, one boy jumps up and immediate pulls her into a hug. "Take care." He whispers as the princess releases him to face a young teen with a cap on their head. She then gifts a small bow, "Your Highness." Before turning around and racing off the same way she came in.

Now Geralt knows the truth.

He leaves the doorway in search of the lying Queen, it takes not long before he's found her walking past some large windows with her ladies by her side. "First, you try and kill me, then you lie to me. I'm just trying to keep Cirilla safe."

"Ciri is safe, with me, until the day she takes over my throne." Queen Calanthe takes a couple steps forward but is halted by Geralt who stands his ground in front of her.

"Listen to me." He advises, voice low and gravely.

"I did listen once." Says Calanthe unbothered, "Let a hedgehog into my court. It got me Pavetta dead. I won't lose Ciri too. So you and destiny can both fuck right off. Because if Nilfgaard comes, will destiny carry a banner into battle? No. We have an army, a navy...and me." Speaks the Queen slyly, starting to walk around Geralt who halts her with a hand to her arm.

"A dynasty can't survive on arrogance alone."

"Says a Witcher. She needs family. You no nothing about that. Your own mother cared so little, she discarded you." Smartly speaks the Queen, "Where is your vampiric lover, hm? She's not even here, gone to see her actual family so I've been told." Calanthe swaggers past Geralt who feels a pang of heartache in his chest for that low blow.

"You lecture me on a mother's love yet you offer up someone else's daughter."

Calanthe stops, "Queen to all of Cintra, grandmother to one." She looks at him over her shoulder, "I won't orphan that girl."

Geralt watches as she begins walking down the hallway towards another opened door, "You're sentencing her to death."

"What I miss?" Asks the intrigued face of Lord Eick.

"Nothing." Replies the Queen as she keeps walking, "Get him out of my sight."

-

Sir Eick walks down a small flight of stone steps with Geralt by his side, they follow a brick path leading down from the castle doors now behind them. Two guards stand at their posts to either side of the wooden entrance as the two men walk across the layed bricks. "I remember when you honored the Law of Surprise. What changed?"

"I had a granddaughter."

"So protect her. What if Calanthe's wrong? What if they come and Ciri is trapped?"

"I fight side by side with my Queen."

"You put too much faith in that woman."

Lord Eick stops walking to look at Geralt, "Well, you weren't there. After Pavetta died, Calanthe would wake up howling in the night. The Lioness, nearly broken. Someone who's able to pull themselves out of that, they'll have my confidence till my final day."

Geralt says not a word, he knows this Lord cannot be reasoned with so instead does the Witcher walk under a small keep, he stops when Lord Eick calls to him, "I need your promise you won't come back."

Geralt slowly turns around to face him, "If I hear Ciri's in danger, you know I can't do that." A second later does two iron cage slates fall into place, locking Geralt into his new little prison.

"I know." Replies the man, giving him one last glance before returning back to the main castle.

Now Geralt really wishes you where here with him.

——

With the aid of Yennefer's ever convenient ability to create portals going from one realm to the next, you, Vilgefortz, and herself made it into the enchanted halls of Aretuza in no time. Though to Yennefer's utter disappointment and your own unsurprised one. It turned out that Tissaia didn't actually ask for Yennefer after all, in fact she doesn't even know that you're both here.

In a fit of anger did Yennefer turn away in search of Tissaia before finding herself down one of the many hallways in this ginormous academy. "I can't fucking believe this. Of course this is how they get me here, I should have known."

"Too bad you can't see into the future, that could have saved us some time."

"Very funny, Y/N." Mutters Yennefer.

"Now come on, you're certainly not the only one between the two of us who'd rather not be here at all." She raises a brow at that.

"You didn't have to join me."

"No, but maybe my curiosity had taken the better of me, and anyways, this place does not hold all terrible memories for me to begin with. This was my home for some time even before you showed up, I did like it here once."

"Well you weren't bought and taken from your family one day without a choice, forced to live here as the lowest of the low. Ridiculed, spoken down upon, lied to."

"No I wasn't, that was saved for you and your magical sisters." She furrows her brows as you chuckle.

"You find humor in our misery?"

"I don't. I find your temperament about the ordeal a tad humorous yes."

"And why is that?"

"Because you had what you needed here to become someone great, and you've survived well by yourself, becoming a powerful mage at that." You add as her frown dissipates, "I remember the first time we met, granted you were unconscious and bleeding on the floor, but after that. When we actually met. I knew you were special then, as I know you are now."

"And how would you know that?"

You playfully bump into her shoulder, "I am a wise and very old woman, I know my looks are deceiving, however I can see through people better then most. I understand them, I can just tell."

"And how could you tell with me?"

"For one, your eyes are purple which is already a huge giveaway. Secondly, you had a prominent physical deformity paired with a rare talent for portal making. I could practically smell your elven blood coursing through those veins before I knew what you looked like. It wasn't hard to tell you were going to be someone."

She stops walking  in the middle of the long hallway, a conflicted expression flashing across her features, "You really thought all that?"

"I always did. I always knew when certain mages would ascend, if I figured you weren't going to make it. I would have told you." Your eyes dart from the ground then back up to her again, "Maybe, and I say just maybe, I've always had a little soft spot for you. Contrary to what you may believe, there is someone who is proud of you...and that's still not the djinn's wish talking. I mean it."

Yennefer breaks out into a small smile, "You're such a sap."

"I can be when I want to." You state half defensibly, "I'm not all just a pretty face and two scary looking eyes."

"Clearly."

Your head turns to the sounds of giggling coming from one of the novice mage's sleeping quarters, "I think your old room is occupied. Hm, I can't say I really care much to meet them. I'm going to see if my old room is still covered in cobwebs or not, see you around."

She gives you a nod, "I'll let you know when I find Tissaia."

Leaving Yennefer to most likely scare the young mages, you begin wandering around the stony pathways until you reach your old room. Stopping at the door, you can hear the sounds of a thudding heartbeat, someone has made themselves a place here. You smile and walk elsewhere, glad that someone could find a nice room to call their own since your absence so long ago.

Finding your way near the room of ascension where many a mage has been turned into an eel to further fuel the place with magic. You can hear the stern voice of Tissaia and the whispering of the novice girls, soon the sounds of their rushed footsteps are heard racing up the steps towards the entranceway. You stand a short distance from the doorway, watching in curiosity as the three young mages meet your gaze while they file out of the hallway.

The pale one with reddish blonde hair halts abruptly in her tracks as her two friends do the same, blue eyes wide in nervous bewilderment at your figure in the room. Your clothing a vast contrast to their usual dark blue uniform, a dagger sheathed at your side, and eyes the color of shimmering rubies staring back at them. They smell of herbs, salt, and magic; heartbeats quickening the longer they stay frozen looking at you.

You gift them a fangy grin and a small bow of your head in greeting, "Are my two acquaintances down there?" You already know the answer, just something said to break their trance.

The one with the healed burns scarred on the side of her face swallows before speaking, "They are. Good day miss." She bows her head respectfully before leading her two friends down the hallway as quickly as they can without running. Apparently you still have that affect on young witches and wizards no matter how long you've been gone from here.

Knowing that the infamous mage had not seen you yet, you decide to keep hidden round the corner to elicit a childish plan that will be worth the trouble getting here. When her footsteps grew louder as she made haste up the steps does a telling smirk come to your lips. Once her red dress caught your eye did you pop out of the shadows, instantly frightening her in your mischievousness. She drew back against the closest wall. Her blue eyes wide as she stared at you in shock, Yennefer appearing in the doorway entrance piecing together what just took place.

Tissaia's heart thuds rapidly in her chest as you take a step forward, eyeing her like a wolf to its prey, "I never wanted to come back here, but just listening to the sweet rush of blood coursing through your veins has made this trip that much better."

Touching her chest she pulls herself from the wall as Yennefer's face breaks in amusement, "Y/N." Replies the heiress bluntly, not an ounce of emotion lacing her words. You simply smirk, tilting your head up as you study her stoic face, those are quite the cheek bones she has.

You feel a brush of air as Yennefer steps closer, "Believe me it wasn't our intention to come back here, most of all mine."

Her eyes of judgment turn to Yennefer, "Then you failed at that, too."

"Look at this place. It's a joke." Scoffs Yennefer.

You laugh, "Letting in girls that can't even do magic, I couldn't smell it all of them...And I already thought this place was pathetic enough. It's really gone down the gutter since I left."

Tissaia remains unfazed, "Sometimes, you have to compromise in order to survive."

"You say I never took responsibility for the way my life turned out. What about you?" Challenges Yennefer, her question left unanswered as multiple mages of all kinds begin walking from one opened doorway to the next, Tissaia abruptly turning around to look as you and Yennefer watch on in confusion.

The fuck?

"It's happening." Whispers Tissaia knowingly before quickly joining the assembly into the desired room, you both have no time to ask what is truly going on before Triss walks into view. Her shimmery peach colored dress flowing as she walks by.

"Triss!" Calls out Yennefer, the familiar mage halts her footing as she turns towards the two of you, a surprised expression crossing her features.

"Yennefer. I tried finding you for years. And Y/N, wow, this is quit a surprise."

"Why are you all here?" You wonder, getting straight to the point.

Her brows furrow in worry, "An emergency conclave of the Northern Mages. Nilfgaard took Marnadal."

"What?" Whispers Yennefer in disbelief.

Triss looks to you sadly, "They're attacking Cintra." Your heart practically catches in your throat, you hadn't expected the Nilfgaardian army to lay siege so soon. It has only been a couple weeks since last you've seen Geralt but your innermost feelings can sense that he's gone to the city to claim that damned Child of Surprise. You had talked about it before the dragon hunt and before you'd made plans to visit the ocean, now it appears like a far off memory when soldiers weren't marching across the land and things were fine.

That idiot better be alive.

Triss quickly departs to join the gathering mages, you can feel Yennefer's conflict within herself to either join them or abandon her duty. She turns to you, her face deep in thought, "Yenn just go. I'll be out here when all is over and done, I can't stand the smell of some of them, it's absolutely appalling."

"Alright then. I'll meet you by the east wing balcony when it's over."

She quickly turns and disappears behind the grand wooden doors, you stop for a moment in the large empty hallway before making your way to the balcony where you can get some fresh air away from all those mages and wizards, their enchanted auroras is almost suffocating at times.

You stand brooding in the light of the half moon as it sits contently from her place high up in the sky. It's been about thirty minutes since you'd left Yennefer to fend for herself among the liars, murders, and tricksters claiming themselves as noble mages of the court.

But you will not let your hate consume you, there are good hiding within their numbers and that may just be enough to keep you from slaughtering every single one of them if given the chance. Gods you have such mixed feelings for this place it's starting to give you a headache.

Drifting away from your more sinister and heavily conflicting thoughts, your ears prick up to the sound of approaching footsteps, Yennefer's no doubt. Leaning yourself against the stone wall, your face turned towards the shimmering ocean, she walks up to your side. Resting her hands atop the stony balcony as a frustrated sigh leaves her lips when she turns her head to you, "You're probably right."

"About what?"

"Coming here, to Aretuza. I should have told everyone to fuck off and then left for a more peaceful part of the Continent."

You chuckle, "You'd get bored, eventually."

An amused huff of air escapes from her nostrils, a small smile upon her tired face, "I hate you sometimes."

"Yeah." You sigh, "Me too."

She side eyes you for a moment, her sights set over the glistening waves, "Well, you're going to really laugh when you hear this."

You raise a brow, "Alright jester, tell me a joke."

"It would appear that Vilgefortz and Tissaia are going with a secret band of mages to fight against the forces of Nilfgaard." She freely lets slip, you turn your head to her when she quickly catches your intrigued gaze.

"Now that. Is hilarious, what are they going to do? Hmm? Create illusions of naked women in hopes that the soldiers will become distracted enough that they can, oh I don't know. Conjure an army of scarecrows to fight for them." You jest with a small chuckle, "These mages are not warriors, most of them have never even welded anything hard besides a kings fucking cock. They don't use fire magic and they find destructive sorcery to be something worth banishing and deeply frowned upon. Again, not much for fighters."

She slowly nods, "I know. That's why I'm asking, would you join us?"

"I have no reason to help them."

"Y/N." She pleads, "Think of what Nilfgaard has already done and what they will do. You even told me that you did, in fact, give a shit because of your tie with Cintra."

"Cintra's fucked."

"What about the Child of Surprise? Geralt even? You told me he's probably there right now. Do you not care for his safety?" Presses Yennefer much to your great annoyance, she's got you there.

"Of course I care that his heart is still beating, he's a fucking Witcher, he'll be fine." You pause for a moment, your crimson eyes glowing like two glistening rubies in the moonlight, "Queen Calanthe has brought this hellfire upon herself and the whole Continent due to her pride and arrogance. Cintra can and will fall in fire and blood, I've seen it all before and I'll watch it happen again."

Yennefer shakes her head, "Sometimes I forget that you're four-hundred something years old, but Y/N listen. I understand that you don't care much for royalty and the conflicts of kingdoms. But the Brotherhood must prevail..."

"That's Tissaia speaking. Why do you actually give enough of a shit to fight?" You challenge.

She looks out upon the vast ocean, a light salty breeze brushing past her face, "What else do I have in this world?" She whispers, her voice almost on the verge of breaking.

You suddenly feel a bit terrible, her words hanging over you heavily, "You want to save your only real home? Dare I ask why, but I don't need to, I already know the answer."

"Tissaia and you have been my only family, this place may be full of shit and lies, but it is a place for people like me who need guidance. And I'd rather not have it fall into the wrong hands, or be reduced to crumbling rocks and ash. Enough death was caused by it's construction already."

You rest your forearms against the smooth stone of the balcony, a huff leaving your lips, "When do we leave then?" Yennefer snaps her full attention over to your casual aurora, wholeheartedly surprised that you've decided to join her.

"Uh, tomorrow, at dawn. We'll travel for a day before boats take us across a bit of ocean. From the shore we'll walk by foot to the Elven keep at Sodden's Hill. Before Nilfgaard can claim it."

This is not how you'd intended to visit the sea shore.

"Right. That would be most unfortunate, well, can't wait to tear the throats out of some Nilfgaardian soldiers. I bet they taste divine." You add slyly, a tinge of playfulness surrounding your words.

"Thought blood wasn't part of your diet?" Retorts Yennefer, nudging your shoulder in a friendly manner.

"I can consume both food and blood to survive, you already know this, I just so happen to eat normal meals because it terrifies people if I were to just suck the life out of a beggar at the table. Tavern goers are not very fond of that behavior if you needed to know."

"Of course." She chuckles, "Well, if we're lucky Nilfgaard will ignore the pass and leave us all be. Though I doubt it will come to that, we're never that blessed."

"No. I guess not. But they will suffer as we have, I'll make sure of it, those unlucky bastards will pay for their kingdom's sins." You say defiantly, "We'll defend Aretuza and this part of the north with our lives...I guess..it's about time I should do something good in the world."

-

Tagged:  @notahappytree​ @ashleyforeverareject​ @sokkasdarling​ @kmuir1​​@haleypearce @diegos-butt​ (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work) @a-girl-who-loves-disney

[mrobrotzly]

Dente-de-leão

Geralt finally finds his child of surprise - or rather, she finds him - but Cirilla isn't alone, beside her is a majestic lion with familiar blue eyes.

(on AO3) 

Ever since the events that occurred after the dragon hunt - events that he didn't want to think about, since it made him lose two of the most important people in his life - Geralt focused his mind on one task: find his child of surprise.

He could feel all the pieces falling into place, knowing what he would find her, that this was inevitable, but even so he did everything to make it happen as soon as possible, because every passing day, every hour, minute or second was a chance that she would be in danger and Geralt didn't want to see anyone else get hurt because of a mistake he made.

He hadn't thought about what his relationship with Ciri would be like, or where their meeting would take place, but he could say with certainty: that was not what he expected.

Cirilla found Geralt in a forest, just after the witcher finished setting up his camp, he heard footsteps, not far from where he was and reached for his sword. Human, he realized, but not alone, something was with them, an animal. A dog, maybe? He was ready for figh if they were some bandit, but all he saw was a child.

A girl with her hair hidden by the hood of her cloak, with bright green eyes that widened when she saw the witcher. Geralt didn't have time to relax his posture and she was already running towards him, hugging him. He returned the hug awkwardly, but feeling that finally he could rest. Months of searching and finally she was here, Cirilla, his child of surprise, alive - shivering slightly in his arms, but safe and sound.

Their moment was quickly broken when Geralt heard something and hid the girl behind him, sword pointed towards the noise.

His eyes wide, facing the second thing he heard moving around, for a moment he had forgotten that an animal was nearby and, well, it wasn't a dog... he never would have guessed what it really was.

In front of him, majestic, with a calm expression and intense blue eyes was a lion.

A lion?! This kind of creature didn't live in these forest, didn't live even close to the region where Geralt was. He held the sword firmly, waiting for the animal to attack.

"Don’t!" Ciri said, running to the lion, Geralt's heart stopped for an instant, but he didn't have time to move and the girl was already holding the animal in a hug "He's my friend!" she said, looking at the witcher as if daring him to say something against it.

Geralt looked at the scene in front of him, his child of surprise hugging a predator, an animal of the species that originated the nickname of the queen of Cintra and he would laugh if he wasn't so astonished that the fucking lion was calmly watching him while the girl caressed its ears.

"Friend?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice making it clear that it seemed absurd, Ciri nodded, Dandelion laid on the forest floor and the girl sat down next to it- to him, still running her fingers through the lion's mane.

“Dandelion found me in the forest, they were trying to capture me but I…” she stopped talking, pressing her lips, the lion moved his head to the side, pressing his muzzle against Ciri's palm, she gave a small smile “Now, he keeps me safe.”

Geralt nodded, obviously he had a lot of unanswered questions, but said nothing, he wouldn't take away from the girl the only thing that made her feel safe, not with everything that was happening around her.

As the days went by, Geralt got used to the sight of the princess and the feline together, the group walked through the forest on the way to Kaer Morhen, the witcher's idea was to avoid civilization as much as possible. 

He and Ciri didn’t talk much, but that didn’t mean there was silence during the day, the girl talked a lot to the lion, the animal walked beside her most of the time, listening to her and, strangely, seemed to understand what she was saying. Geralt, more than once, approached to see if his medallion vibrated and tried to check if there were any traces of magic from the animal and the feline seemed to know what he was doing, looking at him intensely, twitching his ears. Without any proof that the lion was nothing more than an ordinary animal, the witcher avoided getting in his way, there was something familiar in the lion's eyes, something that made his chest tighten and he didn't quite understand why.

"You were at my parents' betrothal, weren't you?" Ciri asked one night. Dandelion was lying next to the girl, his eyes closed, but the movement of his ears making it clear that he was paying attention “No one ever told me the whole story. Not even Dandelion."

Geralt raised an eyebrow "The lion?" he asked and the girl laughed softly.

“No, not the lion” she ran her fingers over the animal's mane, amusement shining in her eyes as she looked at Dandelion as if they had an inside joke “The bard” she explained, and Geralt unconsciously straightened up, paying more attention to what the princess was saying.

“Dandelion always performed on my birthdays, one day he found me in the garden when I was running away from a lesson. He was playing a song I never heard before and when I asked him he told me it was about a hero, the White Wolf” Geralt swallowed, pressing his lips, the nickname felt like someone poking an open wound, but he said nothing "He told me that neither the song nor the story about the hero was finished, so I was supposed to keep it a secret" she laughed, shaking his head "Now I know he just said that so grandma wouldn't find out that he was telling me stories about you."

The witcher nodded, watching her smile at the lion, his eyes now open and fixed on him, studying him intently.

"But there are stories that not even he told me" she said "Like my parents' betrothal."

"So you want me to tell you?"

The girl smiled "We don't have a bard here to do this, do we?" she said, winking at the lion and Geralt could have sworn that if animals were able to roll their eyes, Dandelion would have done that.

"Funny that you mentioned a bard" the witcher said, Ciri and the lion raised their heads paying attention "It's because of one that the story begins."

And Geralt told her everything that happened that night and sometimes Ciri interrupted him to ask some questions, he noticed Ciri's expression change when he mentioned Calanthe and Mousesack and how the lion approached, laying his head on her lap to comfort her.

"It was a bigger mess than I thought" she said, frowning, fingers caressing the animal's mane.

"At least no one would forget it so soon" he said and Ciri chuckled, before tilting her head slightly to the side and look at him.

"The bard that was with you" she said and Geralt felt a lump start to form in his throat "What's his name?"

He took a deep breath and looked away - a bad choice because he was caught by the blue of Dandelion's eyes and that, for some reason, made his heart beat faster than usual.

"Jaskier" he said, there were few seconds when he enjoyed saying that name again, after so many months, but then: guilt and regret weighing on his chest like every time he let himself think about what happened on the top of that damn mountain.

"What happened to him?" Ciri asked.

"I made a mistake" was Geralt's reply, the girl frowned.

"That's it?" she said "Then, you just have to try and fix it."

The witcher shook his head "It's more complicated than that."

"Why?"

"I'm a witcher, there's no place for a human in my life."

"I'm a human" she said firmly.

"And my responsibility because of another mistake I made" he replied without thinking.

She stood up quickly, surprising Geralt and the lion that previously rested on her lap.

"So I'm a mistake?" she said, her voice an octave higher, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"I didn't sa-"

"I didn't ask for it!" she ignored his attempt to explain "I barely know you and yet you're my destiny, but I'm here and you've a place in my life now and I think it's selfish of you not to give a chance to the people who're giving it to you!"

Geralt looked at her in surprise, for a moment it seemed that she wasn't talking only about her, but he didn't said anything, she huffed and turned away.

"Where are you going?" he asked, standing up when she started walking out of the camp.

"To the lake" she replied "I'll be back in a few minutes" he had no chance to argue, Dandelion got up, going after the girl and Geralt knew that she would be safe with the animal and that she wouldn't lie to him about coming back. He just didn't expect the sad and disapproving look in the lion's face...

Geralt spent the time alone thinking about what to do, he could hear her, since she wasn't far, she was talking to Dandelion, but he couldn't understand the words. He took a deep breath and let himself think of something that he had forbidden to cross his mind months ago: he wanted Jaskier to be here with him, he would know what to say not only to Ciri, but to Geralt as well...

Then, he suddenly lifted his head, listening intently, there’s another voice coming from where Ciri was... Quickly rising from where he was sitting, sword in hand, Geralt ran to where the girl should be.

When he finally reached the lake, he couldn't hear the voices anymore and all he saw was Cirilla looking at him with wide eyes and clearly trying to hide a smile.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sword still in hand, looking from side to side.

"I am" she replied, raising an eyebrow "Why are you here?"

"I heard voices" he said, finally relaxing realizing that there was no danger around, he looked at the girl "Where's your cloak?"

She shrugged, smiling at him "With Dandelion."

"And where's Dandelion?"

She giggled, just like earlier - before he told her about the betrothal - as if all of that was a giant inside joke “He'll be back when he's ready.”

It didn't make sense, but Geralt didn't ask, since Ciri was already walking in front of him, towards the camp.

They both sat in front of the fire, in silence. Cirilla tapped her fingers on the trunk she's sitting on, looking up and watching the stars, she took a deep breath.

"Look, I'm sorry" she said "I shouldn't have called you selfish."

Geralt shook his head.

"You weren't wrong about that" he said and the girl turned to look at him. "I'm sorry too, I just... I'm not good with people. Or talking.”

"That’s okay" she said smiling at him "I know you’re trying" He smiled too and she went back to watch the stars in a comfortable silence.

And Geralt could feel something something growing in his chest, warm and very much like what he felt when sitting in front of a fireplace while listening to Vesemir and Lambert arguing, while Eskel is reading a book beside him, a feeling he only felt with those he called his family. He knew that this was what he and Ciri would be. Family.

And perhaps more soon than he expected...

But peace is always short lived.

Cirilla was going to get her bedroll when Geralt motioned for her to stop moving and be silent. There was something in the forest. No, Someone. And it wasn't only one person.

They were surrounded.

It was faster than he expected, the men who came towards him while he drew his sword, he shouted for Cirilla to run, but the girl didn't get far, being caught by two men who appeared on the other side of the camp. She managed to get rid of one while Geralt stabbed the man in front of him, narrowly deflecting two other men who were trying to hit him, the fact that they were wearing armor making it difficult to deliver a direct blow that would take their lives.

The one who was with Ciri raised a dagger, probably to threaten to kill her if the witcher didn't stop fighting, but he didn't have time to say a word, Dandelion, finally back to the camp, roared loudly and dragged the man by the leg, before ending the his life with his claws. Then, the lion was in front of Ciri, ready to attack anyone who dared to approach the girl, giving Geralt an advantage thanks to the confusion over the sudden arrival.

They could win the fight, the witcher thought, between sword blows and furtive glances at the lion that attacked with claws and teeth. They could win.

If it weren't for the archer.

Geralt felt more than he saw the arrow that stuck in the side of his body, but - thanks to years of training - he didn't falter, sword firm in his hand, he could go on until the last man fell, but there was something more. Such a wound wouldn't be enough to make his legs tremble or his vision to darken at the edges. He was able to look quickly at where the arrow was stuck, seeing a yellowish substance dripping with the blood.

Poison.

Realizing it made his body stop working properly, he dropped to his knees in front of an enemy - only one move and the man would cut off his head.

He started to lose consciousness, but before he passed out he heard a cacophony of sounds. Cirilla screaming loudly, just like Pavetta at her betrothal, the roar of Dandelion, the sound of steel against steel and of falling bodies. And after that, nothing more.

“Ciri, give me that potion” he heard a voice, it sounded low, as if it was far away “Yes, that one” Geralt felt something touch his lips, but he had no control over his body or enough strength to open his mouth or his eyes "Come on, Geralt, you have to drink it."

He used all the strength he had left to swallow the liquid that was carefully poured into his mouth.

"He'll be fine?" someone asked. Ciri, he recognized, feeling relieved that she was alive.

"He will, princess. He will." the voice said and he knew that voice, he knew well the voice that never failed to fill his chest with a feeling that he never had the courage to name, but it can't be...

Ciri continued to murmur quietly to the person who was with her and Geralt could slowly feel his body returning to his control - he also realized that the poison wasn't strong enough to kill him, only to leave him unconscious for a few minutes and that the potion he drank was more for the pain that would certainly follow.

"He's waking up!" Cirilla exclaimed excitedly and she was sitting next to him, but when Geralt opened his eyes, it wasn't the girl the one leaning over him.

He saw blue, intense and beautiful blue, blue from the same eyes that had been watching him since the moment Geralt found his child of surprise and the witcher finally understood why the lion's eyes looked so familiar.

"Hello, Geralt" Jaskier said and smiled brightly at him.

♡ if you enjoy my work, you can support me & buy me a coffee ☕

[eratobard]

Saved by the Bell: Chapter 3

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geraskier, Geralt x Jaskier

Rating: G

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

~~~

Giant blue eyes stared at Geralt as he tried his best to listen to Mr. Mousesack detail their homework.  Geralt blushed as he tried to ignore his crush, but it was hard when he was sitting in front of him, with his head leaning back on his desk as he stared up at him. 

“Hey Geralt,” Jaskier whispered, “I can’t believe we’ve had history together this whole time and I didn’t realize till now.”

Geralt nodded his head. Jaskier probably hadn’t noticed because he was usually talking to Priscilla who sat in front of him. That, and Geralt was shy so he didn’t usually talk to anyone at school.

“Mr. Pankratz, I suggest you stop talking to Mr. Rivia and focus up here so you know what the assignment is,” Mr. Mousesack frowned.

Jaskier lifted his head, “I’m not talking to ‘Mr. Rivia’, I’m flirting.” Geralt blushed and tried to ignore the questioning looks of his classmates.

Mr. Mousesack sighed, “Regardless, pay attention.”

“Yes sir!” Jaskier grinned as he proceeded to lay his head back on Geralt’s desk. 

Geralt tried to ignore him, but it wasn’t working.

“You have such pretty eyes,” Jaskier whispered, “has anyone ever told you that?”

Geralt quickly shook his head as he stared at his desk.

“If anyone has any questions over the assignment feel free to come up and talk to me. Unless you’re Mr. Pankratz,” Mr. Mousesack grinned. 

Jaskier lifted his head up and stuck his tongue out playfully at the teacher. He spun around in his seat to face Geralt, “I can’t believe no one has told you that. Your eyes are so magical.”

Geralt wasn’t sure how to reply. He thought Jaskier’s eyes were the magical ones, but he was too embarrassed to say that.

“Ow,” Jaskier grabbed the back of his head and spun around.

Priscilla grinned as she held out a stack of papers to him, “Sorry Jask, you weren’t paying attention. Grab one and pass it back.”

Jaskier grabbed the stack of papers and stared at it questioningly, “What’s this?”

Priscilla rolled her eyes, “It’s the homework assignment you goof-off.”

“Right,” Jaskier grabbed two, one for him and one for Geralt, then handed the stack to the student behind Geralt. Jaskier scanned the document, “We should probably work on this together right?”

Geralt shrugged his shoulders, “If�� if you want.”

“The assignment should be easy enough to do on your own, Mr. Pankratz,” Mr. Mousesack called to him from across the room.

Jaskier nodded, “Yeah, I know, but I had a question. Geralt is answering it for me.”

Mr. Mousesack shook his head and sighed, “Very well, let me know if he is bothering you, Mr. Rivia.”

Geralt shook his head, “...he’s not.”

Jaskier grinned as he rested his head on his hand and continued to stare at Geralt.

“So… um, what question did you have?” Geralt mumbled.

“Question? Oh, right, um,” Jaskier scanned the paper, “Number 5.”

Geralt looked the question over, “Um, it’s fill in the blank. I can’t give you the answer....”

Jaskier shook his head, “No, no, I wouldn’t ask you to do that. I just don’t understand the question.”

Geralt’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Um, it’s asking what the capital of Kaedwen is... wh-what exactly is confusing you?”

Jaskier stared at the question, “Hmmm, I guess… what does capital mean?”

“Oh gods,” Priscilla groaned, “you suck at this.”

Jaskier frowned and kicked her desk, “Quiet, we’re supposed to be doing this on our own.”

Geralt couldn’t help but laugh. He tried to stifle it with his hand but failed. Jaskier grinned as he turned back to look at him, “Did you just laugh?”

Geralt blushed, “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier shook his head, “Don’t apologize.” He folded his arms on Geralt’s desk and smiled as he rested his head on them, “I like your laugh. It’s cute.”

Geralt wasn’t sure how to respond, but he didn’t get a chance when the class dismissal bell rang. He was grateful for the save. Jaskier patted Geralt’s hand as he stood up, “See you later Geralt!”

Priscilla frowned at Jaskier as he grabbed his things, “Leave him alone. You’re bothering him.”

Jaskier nudged at her as he walked past her, “I’m not! He already said I wasn’t bothering him.”

“Because he’s nice, unlike you,” Priscilla poked his arm.

Jaskier gasped in feigned offense, “I’m nice!” Priscilla laughed as she followed Jaskier out of the classroom.

Geralt sighed as he gathered up his own school supplies. There was no way he could compete with her.

[ohkraken-a]

black sails s1

@starfrckled​ : ❝ Whoever tied this bandage was either blind or drunk. I think both. ❞

               a snort-- quickly followed by a groan, the action sending a shooting pain straight to his chest-- “’re you insultin’ m’handiwork, mousesack?”

      the way his brow furrowed at the druid was short-lived, however, replaced by a trademark grin and gleam to his dark eyes, “ah, might’ve taken a bit of drink, aye. bit t’clean the wound, bit for myself--” the jarl groaned again, his smirk waning only a brief moment, pushing himself up through the pain of the shoddily bandaged wound in his side. “i’ve seen worse come from a rogue knife in a galley-- this is nothing.”