#Jaskier: I love you said the squire to the knight

[abluescarfonwaston]

The wolves all go out of there way to bring home a few books every winter. Just whatever they can find and fit in their bags. They won't ever be able to replace the library they lost during the sacking but the slowly growing collection does give then something else to do during the long winter nights.

It also becomes a bit of a competition- as it always does between them - to bring the best book, the book with the most interesting story of how they acquired it, and the most Valuable book (the definition of which changes every year).

Lambert makes it his goal every year to bring the most indecent romance novels he can. I'm talking novels labeled Erotic. I'm talking Porn with just enough plot to get published. Sometimes the others will try to one up him by bringing something even steamier. No one has ever beaten Lambert though.

Much to Vesemir horror the new library is a majority erotic novels (which they do try to hide from Ciri when she arrives).

One year Lambert brings home a story about a wandering knight and his faithful squire. He likes to read excepts to the wolves to get back at them for insulting his cooking, ripping the fancy blanket he won last year, beating him at qwent. Any opportunity really.

And the first few chapters are them going to brothels and wooing ladies. the standard stuff.

But then. Then they start sharing beds and brothels and the other partners just. fall away and they're Only with each other.

Lambert LOVES reading this to Geralt especially cause it can Actually make Geralt blush and run from the room. He's NEVER managed that with Geralt. Fuck YEAH.

And Geralts Dying. Because he recognized the prose during the First Chapter. and the pen name the writer used.

Dandelion.

Jaskier had written a gay romance novel about the two of them. Chocked full of the squires effusive praise for the ‘knight’.

And then one day Lambert stops reading it. Seems even shorter than normal with everyone.

"Lambert you wanna stop being a prick and read your dumb gay romance novel to us? Promise to only throw food at you this time." Eskel said.

"No. that was a shitty Fucking book and I hate it."

"Oh did the gays die again? Lambert you know they won't get published if they have a happy ending. Just rip the last pages out like always."

"No! The knight went and rode off into he Fucking sunset with that damn princess! Left the squire behind without a Fucking word!!!! I hate that Fucking knight and wanna rip his Fucking dick off!"

"Oh. Huh. Well they didn't die for once. happy ending."

"It's not a happy ending Eskel how -

"The knight and the princess were Fated to be together Lambert! all the foreshadowing was there!"

"The princess treated him like a moron! The squire Actually knew him and cared about him!"

"The squire caused him nothing but problems Lambert! Of Course he went with the princess who loved him and could give him the peaceful life he craved! Not every damn bi man has to end up with the guy Lambert!"

Eskel and Lambert continued their Screaming match. Vesemir appear to be regretting his every life decision. Ciri popped in the earplugs and continued reading her book. Geralt stared into his ale, frozen.

"What happens to the squire Lambert?" Geralt asked his drink quietly.

"THATS THE WORST PART. HE SMILES AND SENDS THEM OFF. LIKE HE ALWAYS KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN AND WAS HAPPY FOR THEM. AND YOU CAN JUST TELL HOW HEARTBROKEN THE MOTHERFUCKER IS AND WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HAPPY WITH THAT."

"This is why we told you not to bring gay novels Lambert. You always get upset with how they end."

"It's not Fucking fair."

Geralt’s chair screeches against the stone as he stands up - an oddity since they all Hate that noise and actively avoid making it.

"Where are you going?" Eskel questioned as he stroad to the door.

"I need to talk to Jaskier."   

"And how do you intend to do that? Gonna ride down the mountain in a Fucking blizzard Geralt?"

"I." The door slammed closed behind him.

"Should." Ciri started. "One of us check on him?"

"No." They all said in unison.

(They did all at some point check on him)

Ciri was first. with a timid and then assertive knock on his door before she entered. Crawling into his arms and burrowing into his chest.

"We can go find him as soon as the snow melts. Okay?"

"I don't think he'd be very excited to see me." He mourned tucking her closer and burying his nose in her hair.

"It's Jaskier." She said simply about a man she only knew from their stories. "He's always excited to see you."

"You going to Brood all winter or do you actually want to figure out how to apologize wolf?" Eskel asked dragging him to the courtyard for a spar.

"There's nothing I can do. He'll never forgive me."

"Oh like he'd Never forgive you for the Djinn? Or for ripping his favorite doublet? Or telling him his singing sucked?" Eskel landed a hard jab. "And what happened every one of those times he'd Never forgive you?"

"That's different." He said returning the blow.

"Uh huh. Guess we'd better make sure you've got a damn good apology ready then?" Eskel smiled easily like he knew the punchline to a very funny joke. "Tell me what happened."

So he did.

Vesemir eased into the spring water across from him with a groan. He wondered how long he had before Vesemir started making fun of how long he spent in the bath again. Longer than if it was Eskel or Lambert at least.

They sat there and a question curdled in his belly until it forced its way out.

"How are we supposed to not get attached?"

"I think we're well past that point lad."

"But How? I can't. All these years and I still can't." He buried his head in his hands so he couldn't see how he'd failed Vesemir yet again.

"If I knew I'd tell you Geralt." Vesemir said, exhausted.

He glanced up and was Viscerally reminded how much Vesemir had lost over the long centuries of his life.

How he'd seen the school founded and fall. How he'd known every child who'd walked these halls and died in them.

How he knew exactly how many had died in the raid.

He remembered how Vesemir had fallen to pieces when the last Witcher he'd ever teach, Leo, had died.

And he remembered how Vesemir put himself back together for them.

"I can't. I can't Vesemir." If Ciri or Eksel or Lambert or Vesemir or Jaskier died. "I'm not as strong as you. I Can't."

"You will. You are." Vesemir squeezed his shoulder as he stood. "Make it worth the loss Geralt."

He sunk into the hot water and wondered how it could be.

He was half asleep when the door Slammed open and only had half a second before Lambert was cannon-balling into his chest.

"FIXED IT!"

He breathed through the pain. "Fix my ribs ass."

"You're fine whiny old man." Lambert shoved a book under his nose. the scent of barely dried ink filling his nostrils. "Read it!"

"Just tell me what happened. I'm not reading your handwriting in the dark." He said shoving it back.

"It's better than yours!" It wasn't. "The knight gets his head out of his ass and tells the squire he loves him and they go on countless more adventures." he puffed up proudly.

"And the princess? what happens to her?"

Lambert scowled at him. "Who gives a fuck about the princess?"

‘I do.’ He thought. "The knight does." He said.

"Ugh. uh. she meets another princess and they go ride off into there own sunset. okay? Happy you ungrateful prick?"

He smiled in a way that made Lambert gag. "I think that's a much better ending Lambert."

"Of course it is!" He preened from atop Geralt. Toes digging into his abdomen painfully.

"Now get out of my room or I'll throw you into the snow bank Lambert."

Lambert tried to call him on the threat so he made to make good on it. Lambert dashed from the room with a crass gesture.

That did sound like a better ending. He gripped his medallion and hoped that in the spring they'd get that ending.

An ending that lead into a very very happy beginning of something new.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Fear Not, Fair Maiden

(Thank you @spielzeugkaiser for letting me write a story about your amazing art! This was so much fun and it’s so fluffy. I may have thrown in a little nonhuman-Jaskier as a treat but Jaskier doesn’t know so...)

Etheid is the baby green dragon that Borch rescues in “The Sword of Destiny” book. I thought I’d make that scene more interesting and less sad for everyone by sticking to the book canon version for this story.

---

Jaskier woke up somewhere warm and soft and definitely not wrapped in the raggedy blanket he’d fallen asleep with atop his worn bedroll. He groaned in confusion and rose into a sitting position on the soft feather mattress to better wipe the sleep from his bleary eyes. He was sitting on a beautifully carved mahogany bed with four posts and lovely hanging curtains made of pale pink gossamer.

“Where am I?” he yawned to no one in particular. 

In my tower, a voice echoed through his head. The bard leapt from the bed, suddenly alert and terrified of whatever had brought him here. The voice returned, slightly frightened in its own right and clearly looking to soothe. Don’t panic! I’m sorry! I probably should have introduced myself better. Come to the window, my sweet visitor, and let me say hello!

“You’re not going to eat me, right?” Jaskier squeaked. 

Of course not, Jaskier. You’re my guest. That would be highly indecorous of me.

“Monsters with manners. Finally some decent company.” Jaskier made his way confidently out onto the balcony surrounding the tower’s main room and glanced around. “Hello? How do you know my name?”

A large, scaly green head rose over the side of the balcony wall and Jaskier took an involuntary step back. A thin-slit reptilian eye blinked at him. Once. Twice. Then the rest of the dragon’s face and snout appeared. Do not fret, my dear. You are in no danger at all. I merely wish to see a performance.

“You want me to sing for you?”

That was not my purpose in stealing you, but I would not be adverse to some music later this evening. I’m sure your Witcher is already on his way here to rescue you. Jaskier swore he heard the dragon release a deep, dreamy sigh from its steaming nostrils. Ah, I wonder if he’ll climb the spiral stairs and try to avoid the traps or if he’ll fight me first and scale the outer walls. 

“Wait a second,” Jaskier held a finger up. The dragon paused its daydreaming and looked down at its tiny human captive. Well, mostly human from what the dragon’s senses could pick up. Perhaps a bit of dryad in there somewhere. The semi-mortal’s connection to nature was stronger than most; ancient in a way that drew the dragon to him in the first place. Well, that and the handsome, white-haired Witcher who kept the bard close to his side like a favorite puppy. “You kidnapped me so that you could watch Geralt rescue me?”

The dragon’s enormous snout bobbed up and down as it nodded. The bard leaned heavily against the balcony’s edge and released a series of hysterical giggles. Are you alright, Jaskier?

“How do you know my name?”

You met my godfather, once. Borch.

“Oh, you’re the baby green dragon!” Jaskier perked up. This was an old friend, then. “My, how you’ve grown.”

And my, how you haven’t, the dragon observed. If the bard didn't’ know any better it appeared as if the creature was raising its eyebrow at him. You don’t seem to have aged a day.

“Haven’t I?” Jaskier glanced down. “Perhaps I’m just remarkably well preserved.”

Magic, the dragon shrugged. Anyway that is not my purpose here. I’ve grown bored with my usual antics and wish for something better. 

“So you thought you’d make up some entertainment by bard-napping me?”

Correct.

“This is like a play, then? I’ve been given the part of Fair Maiden and Geralt has been cast as our White Knight? My Prince Charming, as it were?”

Yes, although you find Geralt’s animalistic tendencies and Witchery nature more alluring than any fairy-tale prince or wayward knight.

“Hey! Hands off my private, personal thoughts,” Jaskier cried, waving his arms at the dragon as if the gesture might sever their mental link. The dragon huffed out what may have been a laugh.

I cannot help myself, I apologize. My name is Etheid, by the way. So you can stop referring to me in your mind as Baby Dragon I Held Once.

“Sorry,” Jaskier shrugged. He laughed again, this time genuinely. “Do you think Geralt really loves me enough to come rescue me from an entire dragon? He knows you can’t be beaten with one or two flimsy swords.”

He is determined to find you, Etheid replied. He will be here in two days time. 

“So until he shows up do I just...sing for you, then? Is there any food? Oh, is there a bath!?”

You’re the most eager and friendly guest I’ve ever had, Etheid rejoiced. There’s food aplenty in the cupboard in your room. Wine, too. I also have bathwater ready at your request and I can heat it to whatever temperature you like. I even have costumes!

“Costumes!?” The bard beamed widely and clapped his hands together beneath his chin. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and even spun in a quick circle. “What kinds of costumes!? Is this going to be a tragic rescue? Is this going to be dramatic and romantic? You mentioned traps, what kinds of traps will Geralt be facing if he comes up the stairs?”

Eager to see your handsome Witcher again?

“Eager to make sure that he isn’t injured trying to save me from your lovely tower, here.”

He will be absolutely fine. These traps were made for squires to outsmart; he’s a Witcher.

“If he loved me as I love him,” Jaskier sighed wistfully, “Then this would be even more fun.”

Etheid considered telling Jaskier the truth about his Witcher’s romantic feelings for a moment but figured that it was Geralt’s job to do so, instead. The dragon could wait. The dragon could write such a fantastical scene that Geralt would have no other option but to admit his feelings to the jovial and kindhearted bard. 

There are dresses, of course, but there are some lovely robes as well. You can take whatever you like from the chest at the end of the bed.

“You’re going to regret saying that!”

Go ahead. Do what human things you must. I’ll heat the water and be on my way; dragons need to eat, too.

“No pesky villagers, please. Stick to wild animals so long as I’m your guest?”

I am not a heathen, Etheid scoffed. Deer only for now. The forest is fat with them.

“Excellent. See you after dinner and a bath, then. I’ll sing you some lovely ballads.”

About your White Wolf?

“I wouldn’t exactly say that he’s my White Wolf,” the bard blushed. “But yes, songs about Geralt.”

---

Geralt reached the base of the stone tower and squinted up. It seemed endlessly tall against the rocky mountainside and the blue of the sky. Jaskier was up there, though, and the dragon was probably nearby. The Witcher had chosen not to wear his armor for this particular rescue mission; it would only make him noisier and this was a battle of the wits. Dragons wanted to be outsmarted, not slain.

Geralt remembered Borch Three Jackdaws fondly, the golden dragon that had shown him such kindness and taught him that not all monsters were to be feared. Well, Borch hadn’t so much taught Geralt about the nature of monstrosity so much as he had reinforced a previously held belief. 

But that didn’t matter now. As he slid into the passage that led to the tower stairs his only focus was his stupid bard’s physical safety. 

No, Geralt, the Witcher corrected himself firmly. He is not your bard, he is merely a traveler who chooses to spend some of his free time dallying about with you. He likes writing songs about your adventures and that is all. 

He could hear the sound of a lute growing slightly stronger as he ascended, and kept his eyes peeled for any sort of traps or pitfalls. He sidestepped two swinging axes with ease and ducked beneath a flying crossbow bolt as simply as he breathed. This tower was for amateurs, not highly trained Witchers with unparalleled senses. Not the most graceful Witcher the Wolf school had ever turned out onto the path. Not Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier’s Witcher. 

---

Jaskier stopped singing suddenly and set his lute to the side, as planned. He laid himself out as Etheid had suggested, the white cotton robe pooling around his bare legs and spilling rather nicely off his left shoulder. He’d cinched a soft blue ribbon just so around the curves of his waist. His hair was ruffled just the way Geralt liked it; the way it was when he saw the Witcher’s gloved fingers twitch at his sides, clearly aching to touch him but too afraid to make a move.

He’ll have to make a move this time, Etheid said. Jaskier could hear the smile in the dragon’s words. Get in position! He’s nearly to your room, Jask!

“Jaskier!” the Witcher cried, bursting through the door only a moment later. The bard could sense Etheid just outside the window, hidden by a thin curtain that hung from the back of an ENORMOUS four-poster bed. Geralt was too excited to find his precious bard safe to care about the looming threat.

“Geralt! You came for me!”

“Of course I did,” Geralt rolled his eyes. “You’re always getting yourself into trouble.”

Ugh, you’re so right. He’s horrible with romance.

Jaskier stifled a smile but Geralt caught it anyway. 

“What’s so funny, bard?”

“My captor doesn’t find your rescue speech very romantic or amusing,” he said, pulling the curtain aside. Etheid’s large blue eyes were focused on the scene, waiting for something good to happen. The dragon had been bored for so long and he’d heard so much from Borch about this White Wolf and his loyal, loving bard. Jaskier whispered the next line as if Etheid wasn't’ supposed to be hearing it, “Perhaps you should make our little reunion more flowery?”

“Jaskier, I - uh,” Geralt swallowed hard and took a step forward. Might as well go for it, the Witcher thought. “I���m so glad that I made it back to your side in time. I’m so glad that you’re unharmed.”

“I knew you’d come for me,” Jaskier sighed, holding out his hand. Geralt stepped even closer, leaning down to press his lips against the petal-soft skin of Jaskier’s knuckles. The bard blushed softly and Geralt felt his own face heating up to match. “You always save me, even from the worst situations.”

“I always will.”

The Witcher had admitted his greatest secret aloud before he could stop himself and he watched the bard’s eyes widen even further. Geralt’s brand of gruff sincerity was unmistakable. 

“Geralt,” the younger man grinned, tears gathering in the corners of his perfect, cornflower blue eyes, “I knew you loved me back.”

“You mean...?”

“Of course, silly,” the bard laughed, throwing himself up off the mattress and into Geralt’s arms. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you brooding at that tavern in Posada!”

“Oh Jaskier,” the Witcher gasped. His lips found the side of his bard’s pale neck and out on the balcony Etheid released a happy, contented huff. “I would give anything and everything to know that you were safe.”

“My sweet Witcher,” Jaskier leaned back, cupping Geralt’s face between his hands. His weight was now being entirely supported by the thick arm wrapped around his waist and he reveled in the strength of his beloved before leaning up to kiss him. “Then you must know how I feel every time you leave me on a hunt. Or go to fight with Yennefer about something silly.”

The Witcher could only press their foreheads together and breathe in the happy, rain-shower scent of his Jaskier. “Hmm.”

Excellent, yes! I can’t wait to tell Borch and my friends about this! Etheid cheered. Congratulations, Jaskier! I’m so happy for you!

“Thank you,” the bard murmured. 

“Hmm?” Geralt hummed again, raising an eyebrow. Jaskier pulled his head away and shook it. 

“Don’t worry about it. Are you getting me out of here or not?”

“Can you walk in this getup? Will the dragon just let us go?”

Jaskier shot a curious glance towards Etheid, who nodded.

Tell him you can’t walk, though. I want to see him carry you off to his horse and ride away with the white robe flapping in the wind. Maybe he’ll even wrap his arms around you from behind to keep you safe. Like a real princess. 

“No, I can’t walk in this silly thing at all. Keeps getting tangled around my ankles; I’d probably fall down the stairs and kill myself.

Geralt swept the younger man up into his arms and grabbed his lute from its place on the floor. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“No, my Witcher,” the bard replied with a contented smile. “We can’t have that at all.”

---

And if one of Etheid’s curious friends kidnapped Jaskier a month or so later and three countries over then...oh well. More weird dragon friends for the both of them.

[hosts-of-valyria]

Destiny: In another world: "The call: Put your faith in what you most believe in. Two worlds, one family. People linked by Destiny always find each other. We're never worlds apart. Fuck a Realm, fuck a World. Ah a world. The world is one thing, but taking responsibility is another entirely. Open your eyes and Yennefer will always be close. Yennefer is never far from you Jon. I'm closer than you think, you just have to open your eyes and I'll be there. Daenerys is closer to Geralt than he knows. Geralt just has to open his eyes and Dany will be very close", said Ciri and Jon, Geralt, Daenerys and Yennefer nodded.

The five most powerful and profound characters who are not wanted or pushed away by others

"If I never knew you, if I never felt this love I would have no inkling of how precious life can be and if I never held you I would never have a clue how at last I'd find in you. The missing part of me, in this world so full of fear, full of rage and lies I can see the truth so clear in your eyes, so dry your eyes and I'm so grateful to you I'd have lived my whole life through. Lost forever. If I never knew you. I will always be with you, FOREVER. We're never worlds apart."

The Name: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Ciri Vengerberg-Targaryen, born in Cintra during the Belleteyn Holidays, born in the shadow of the Law of Surprise.

Biological parents:

Emperor Emhyr var Emreis/Duny of Urcheon and Princess Pavetta. Granddaughter of Queen Calanthe, the Lioness.

The child of Surprise, the Lion Cub, the Last Rose of Cintra, the Lady of Space and Time, the Lady of Worlds, Princess of Cintra through birth, Princess of House Targaryen of King's Landing, Dragonstone and the Independent Crownlands through Legitimation. Friend of the Free Folk, niece of Tormund Giantsbane.

Legitimized in the Name Targaryen by Daenerys Stormborn. Daughter of the Witcher Geralt Rivia-Targaryen and the Mother of Dragons Daenerys Rivia-Targaryen. Daughter of the most powerful Sorceress Yennefer Stark-Vengerberg and the Son of Fire and Ice Jon Stark-Vengerberg.

Arch enemy of Yennefer, Daenerys, Ciri, Jon, Aegon, Sansa, Rhaenys, Lyanna, Jaime, Myrcella, Elia, Cersei, Tywin, Rhaegar, Geralt: Robert Baratheon

When the parents put themselves in the line of fire first as they have to be.

"Look at how they crawl out of their holes, like dogs that smell a piece of meat; to mate her and shoot their cum inside her to get her pregnant.

They come crawling there when someone powerful is in the game. Nobody gets Ciri in a wedding! I'll throw myself into the line of fire before Ciri gets married or sold into marriage like a head of cattle. As long as the four of us are standing and there is air in our lungs, no one will get to her. And when millions of people die I don't give a shit, nobody gets Ciri! Ciri does not become a ward or is sold into a marriage; so that we understood each other clearly! Ciri has had enough training in the citadel, at the wall, in King's Landing, Essos, she is fully trained in magic, as a Witcher, as a Sorceress, dragon riding, sword fighting. She is fully trained in politics through Lyanna Stark, Elia Martell, Rhaegar, Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen. Ciri has done enough. This is our daughter!"

Willas Tyrell, Ex-Boyfriend of Rhaenys, asks for Ciri's hand. Margaery Tyrell and Jaskier reprimand Willas. "You don't believe seriously that I'll take you. Tyrells. The Tyrells should be grateful to be kings and queens in Highgarden through Rhaegar's independence", screamed Ciri.

Lancel Lannister asks for Ciri's hand. Myrcella Lannister, Trystane Martell and Cersei Lannister put Lancel in his place. "Maybe you should swear chastity, what do you think of that? But I'll tell you something: no Sparrow will enter King's Landing while Rhaegar, Geralt, Aegon, Aerys, Jon or Tywin are alive", screamed Ciri. Lancel becomes squire and Knight of Sansa and Aegon.

Jojen Reed asks for Ciri's hand. Meera and Bran rebukes Jojen. "You are still completely green behind the ears and still make megalomaniac claims. I am not the mom! Make something sensible out of magical visions", screamed Ciri.

"You're not going to marry a power-hungry wanker who wants to make a quiet life at your expense. And when millions of people die it doesn't matter", said Jon, Yennefer, Dany and Geralt and Ciri nodded.

"How about a NO? The four of us said NO! So that you can have a quiet life at Ciri's expense? The world is one thing but our daughter is something completely different! Nobody gets Ciri in a wedding! Before that, we slaughter everyone", screamed Yennefer, Daenerys, Geralt and Jon.

In Winterfell, Eddard Stark groaned loudly and cursed for the first time, "Ok fine I made mistakes. Fuck the Realm and may the dog give a shit on it. This friendship is over Robert was never a real friend. I want to speak to Yennefer and Jon", Catelyn looked at Ned, "good insight Ned."

In the Eyrie, Jon Arryn groaned loudly, "Never mind, fuck the shit! Fuck it hard! Fuck the Realm. I want to speak to Sansa, Geralt, Daenerys and Aegon", Lysa looked at him, "Very good honey."

The People in the streets of King's Landing applauded, "so good", Margaery, Lyanna, Elia, Lysa, Rhaegar, Cersei, Aerys, Rhaella, Arya, Gendry, Sansa, Robb, Aegon and Rhaenys applauded, "yeah", Ciri smiled, "my strong parents I love the four."

Even Tywin and Aerys applauded, "I like the speech. I have it: Make Westeros strong again. A big story."

The feud between Yennefer, Geralt, Daenerys, Ciri, Jon and Storm King Robert Baratheon escalates

"Brood of the Tyrant. A no is not tolerated! You have to poop children to protect the realm! WAR! WAR! WAR! I WANT WAR! This is madness when she doesn't get married. The tyrant's brood has to get married and she has to poop children to protect the Realm, the tyrant's brood has to be beaten up by the husband. When she doesn't marry she has to die, she has a black heart, she's a cruel bitch", roared a drunk Robert Baratheon in Storm's End and Lying drunk in the streets of the capital.

"My name is Ciri and not brood of the tyrant, you stupid asshole! You are the only cruel one! I'm definitely not going to poop children to protect a realm. And when millions of people die I don't give a shit! I give a wet fuck when people die, before that I'll bang Gendry again on your bed while you're drunk MONSTER. I'll bang him over and over again on your bed if necessary. A monster like you that doesn't give a shit about its own children! Gendry is a better man than his producer. Your own children hate you, Monster", answered Ciri with a loud laugh. Daenerys, Arya, Gendry, Rhaegar, Yennefer, Geralt, Jon, Lyanna, Elia, Renly, Stannis, Sansa, Cersei, Myrcella, and Catelyn laughed aloud over Robert.

Ciri completely destroys Robert Baratheon.

Ciri reaches for Gendry Baratheon who, like Mya, Bella and Edric, gave himself the name Baratheon. The lion cub stretches its claws towards Gendry

Ciri ruins Robert Baratheon when she has sex with Gendry and Arya on Robert Baratheon's bed as Robert once hurt Stannis.

The downfall for Robert Baratheon in Storm's End: Death for Robert Baratheon through Bannermen and Soldiers of House Baratheon. No political consequences.

"It gave me a really tough pleasure to see him dead. I would have loved to do it. It would have been so good and right. I wish I had killed him, honestly. I wish I did. That was a complete idiot beyond compare. It made me horny to see the evil creature dead. That was a son of a bitch and a heartless monster. I will piss on your grave", thought Tywin, Sansa, Cersei, Ciri, Lyanna, Geralt, Jon, Aegon, Elia, Rhaegar, Rhaella, Yennefer, Daenerys, Myrcella, Rhaenys, Gendry, Arya, Mya, Bella, Edric, Stannis, Renly when they saw Robert's dead body in Storm's End.

Rhaella, Aerys, Lyanna, Elia, Cersei, Rhaegar, Aegon, Rhaenys', Yennefer, Jon, Dany, Geralt and Ciri's hatred of Robert Baratheon: Ciri's hatred of rulers who take no responsibility. Ciri's aversion of usurpers, warmongers, and war criminals. Ciri notices Gendry, who was raised by Rhaegar and Lyanna and who wanted to become a blacksmith of his own accord.

"He died from being unable to live. He was nothing he was a Monster", said Cersei, Lyanna, Elia, Ciri, Sansa, Catelyn, Eddard, Tywin, Rhaegar, Jon, Geralt, Robb, Myrcella and Yennefer

Stannis Baratheon, Shireen Baratheon and Joffrey Lannister: The coronation of an older Shireen Baratheon as Storm Queen

A thousand deaths are not enough for what you deserve. You call Dothraki rapist. And so is Gregor Clegane! You call me tyrant's brood but you don't know me. You call Cersei lion whore but you have no interest in seeing how hard Mya and Tommen work. All the bannermen piss in your cup because of your unjust shit. Selwyn Tarth, Brienne's father, wants your death. The people in the Stormlands want you dead.

It's over Storm King Robert Baratheon! You cannot start a war. The People see that you're evil. Go to a doctor, kill yourself or stay forever in Storm's End and leave others in peace.

You think the only people who are people are the people who look and think like you. But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger you'll learn things you never knew, you never knew.

I've already ruined you, I rode and banged Gendry really hard. I gave him the hardest orgasm imaginable. I fucked him more than once in Harrenhal and Storm's End.

Stannis and Renly can't stop laughing for fucking with Gendry and Arya on your bed. Arya fucked me divinely while you lay drunk in the corner. I already got vengeance when I fucked Gendry right in front of your eyes and you didn't notice because you are a heartless monster, Stannis, Renly and the vassals of House Baratheon are laughing at you dead and the bannermen are in rebellion against you, because of your unjust rebellion. The debt is paid, I fucked your son.

You fucked on the bed of your brother Stannis. You think Renly is not a real man because he loves men and you can influence him more easily. I'm sorry for Stannis and Renly to have a monster like you for a brother. You almost let Stannis starve to death in Storm's End.

I fucked your son Gendry with Arya on your bed while you were drunk. Your children hate you! You're alone Robert Baratheon. A Baratheon alone in the world! You have arrived where you belong MONSTER, in the gutter with the dogs and pigs.

"May I introduce: The true evil.

You have nobody, you are nothing! Even loyal Ned Stark was never loyal to you because Jon is his son too.

Blah Blah Blah. Tyrant's Brood blah blah blah. Blah blah Dragonspawn blah blubber blubber. Just drivel. Calling someone cruel will get them to the point.

You have the Black Heart, you're the Monster and Bastard of Storm's End. Evil through and through. You're the true evil. You have a blacker heart than the Night King. I remind you of something, I already sucked your son Gendry's cock while Arya ate me like a she-wolf! You little bunch of shit! Your own children hate you! Gendry, Arya and I were fucking on your bed when you were lying drunk in the corner. Mya rode and banged Tommen while you puked alcohol in the corner. Edric pounded Dickon's ass while you lay in your own feces and wallowed like a pig.

Gendry hates you beyond measure, he's a good blacksmith in Cintra and King's Landing, he wanted to be a blacksmith himself, he doesn't need you for it, you owe maintenance costs to Mya, Bella, Edric and Gendry. If you had decency which is not the case, the inhuman and monstrous Robert Baratheon! Your own children don't want anything to do with you and don't need you for anything! Nobody needs you! Nobody wants you! Be a good monster and kill yourself! You are not needed for a council because the vassals of House Baratheon want nothing to do with you and are in rebellion against you! War criminal!"

Lyanna smiled, "my son and my daughter-in-law Yennefer are so strong. You're so strong Ciri. Come here Ciri. Don't listen to what Robert says he has no idea about anything. He will see his End now in Storm's End.

Elia, Cersei, Tywin, Rhaegar and I have a surprise for you. We have had a better sword made for you from valyrian steel and silver steel. New ones are ready for Jon and Geralt too", Ciri looked at the sword, "awesome. Thank you so much. I think I call it: Sunlight."

[readyourimgaines]

Can you write Jaskier gets tortured for information by Nilfgard soldiers. But when they are done they sew his lips together and leave him in the dungeons. (Kinda like Gabriel from spn). After like a week of him being all alone and in pain Geralt saves him after catching wind of people stealing that one bad that sings the song. And cue Geralt being hella guilt ridden and trying to help Jaskier.

Thank you so much for the request! I tweaked it just a little: I didn’t know how to write the sewing part, but I promise Jaskier does lose his voice. 

Warnings: Descriptions of violence and blood

This wasn't the first time Jaskier woke up in the inn room alone to find a note from Geralt saying he left. They never held any indignation as to where he was going and every time he went to pay for the room, it was already covered. Jaskier would go on his way and they'd cross paths in some other town a few weeks later. 

A week had passed since Jaskier woke up to find Geralt gone and was in some other Cintrian town's inn playing his lute and singing in hopes of someone giving him some coin. When no one opened their pockets, he opted for going off to another town. He should have stayed where he was.

"Honestly," Jaskier huffed, "I should learn to fight and hunt monsters myself." He made sure his lute was safely in its case before leaving the pub to find the inn. 

A young man stepped out of the pub behind him and stopped Jaskier. “Are you a bard?”

“That I am. Jaskier at your service.” He bowed slightly. 

“You sang Toss a Coin to Your Witcher. Did you write that? I’ve heard a few bards sing it.” 

“Yes. Geralt’s a friend of mine whether he-” Jaskier felt a blunt searing pain for a few seconds until consciousness left him.

A Nilfgard knight towered over Jaskier from where he came out from behind his squire and grinned. “Let’s get him back to the fort.”

*****

When Geralt came to the town two days later, the workers of the inn, tavern, and pub were confused as to where the bard had gone. He seemed to have disappeared overnight. There were countless bards in the continent. Who said this bard had to be Jaskier?

“Witcher!” a woman called as soon as he entered the pub. He hummed in response. “Do you do wellness checks?”

“I’m no healer.”

“I know from the songs. The bard that sings about you, the bouncy one with brown hair. He disappeared in the night two days ago.”

“Fuck.” So it was Jaskier. 

“You know where he is?”

“I haven’t seen him in a week.” He turned to leave and the barkeep panicked. 

“Where are you going?”

“To find Jaskier.”

*****

Jaskier screamed as a red hot brand was harshly placed against the bleeding sword wound on his side. He’d woken up a few hours ago to someone shattering his ribs with a club. Things only got worse from there. 

He was held standing by chains keeping his arms above his head and chains keeping his legs from giving in. He was bleeding from various places and had a few burns.

“Where is he?” the guard growled. 

“I don’t know,” Jaskier all but sobbed. He just wanted to put his arms down and sit. 

The guard withdrew the blank brand from the fire again and Jaskier panicked. “Wait! Wait!”

“What?” There was a touch of hope in the man’s voice.

“His horse’s name is Roach.” He quipped. He screamed again when the brand was slammed against his lower back.

“I told you: tell me what you know, Bard, and we’ll kill your useless ass now.”

“Just kill me.”

*****

Geralt tried to think. Where the fuck could Jaskier have been taken? Two days. They couldn’t have gone far. Who had a problem with him? That’s a long list… Narrow it down. Who has something against him within two days of travel?

 A Nilgard fort was a day and a half away. What would Nilfgard want with Geralt? The Child Surprise. He mounted Roach and urged her into a sprint.

*****

Jaskier panted as he hanged in chains, his head hanging between his shoulders, his chin rested against his chest. 

“Where could he be going?” The guard was getting bored. There was no way this bard was going to give him any information, even if he had the information. 

“Where the money leads.” Jaskier’s voice was hoarse from screaming.

“Last chance, bard.” The guard drew a knife and held it to the tip of Jaskier’s left middle finger. “Where can we find him?”

No matter what he told them they would kill him. It was now or never. “Fucking your mother.” He screamed once again as the knife removed his left middle fingertip.

*****

What took most travellers two days at a steady walking pace on horseback took eight hours at Roach’s sprint. The strong horse was used to strenuous hours of travel, though she still worked up a sweat.   

The fort was coming into view and Geralt reached into his saddlebag and gulped down a black potion, his eyes turning just as black. Coming to the entry of the fort, Geralt jumped down from Roach and drew his sword. He made fast work of the fools running to try and stop him. The last man to come out wasn’t killed but rather injured so he’d never walk again.

“Where’s the bard?” Geralt hissed, his eyes still black as coal.

“I don’t know.”

Geralt crouched down onto his level and looked him in the eyes. “Where is the bard?”

The guard Geralt directions and Geralt decapitated him. He followed the instructions and reached the dungeons. In the only cell was Jaskier chained up as he had been the last two days, clearly unconscious. The locked door was extra considering he couldn’t have dreamed of getting that far. 

“Jaskier!” Geralt called. No response. Holding out his hand, Geralt blasted the call off the hinges and rushed in, feeling for a pulse. It was weak and unsteady, but it was there. 

“So there he is.” The guard who’d been torturing Jaskier stood in the entry to the cell. 

“Give me the keys now and I’ll end your life quickly. He has nothing to do with what you want from me.” 

“He didn’t say a word then and he won’t again,” the guard laughed. “Faithful bitch you’re got here.”

Geralt’s eyes were still black, his teeth bared. “What are you talking about?” 

“He wasn’t using his voice for anything other than screaming so I had our wizard remove it.” The guard walked around Geralt and Jaskier in a circle. “It’s lovely this plan worked out so much better than we could have hoped.”

“Your men are dead. Give me the keys and your death will be near painless. I won’t offer this again.” 

“And if I don’t?”

Geralt his energy on the guard’s heartbeat and how the pace slowed as it expanded, the guard falling to his knees and clutching his chest in pain. 

“The keys.”

“Fuck you.” 

A few more seconds and the man’s heart burst, his ribs protruding from his chest. He fell to the floor in a sputtering mess as he tried to breath through destroyed lungs. Geralt searched the man and started going through his pockets to find the keys keeping his friend from freedom. At long last, he found a ring of maybe ten keys. 

Working on releasing Jaskier, Geralt wished to anything listening that the bard wouldn’t wake up yet. He didn’t the usually cheerful bard to feel the immense pain, to what Geralt himself had done.

Geralt picked Jaskier up, carrying the shockingly light man out to Roach so they could leave this damned place. Geralt mounted Roach, clinging Jaskier tightly to him.

*****

Before long, the two arrived in a wooded glade and Geralt laid Jaskier down after setting up his bedroll. He got the supplies he would need for tending to the man’s wounds and started by cleaning the burn. Jaskier awoke with a gasp and Geralt looked to the bard’s confused and pained face. He tried, for a second, to scramble away before, his mouth forming what would have a yelp. 

“Jaskier, it’s me.” Geralt said quickly, keeping his soft and calm. “It’s Geralt.” The Witcher moved slowly closer to the Bard. “You’re safe, now.” 

Jaskier didn’t resist when Geranlt’s calloused hands moved him back to the bedroll but his eyes were still wide and scared. He realised by now he couldn’t talk and that didn’t help things. 

“You’ll be alright. I’ll find a way to get your voice back. Right now, I need to clean your wounds so they don’t get infected.”

The silence as Geralt worked was killing Jaskier more than any infection would. Roach would make a noise or the leaves would rustle in the breeze but there was overall silence. He would hum softly whenever he cleaned Geralt’s wounds. 

There was a pop and Geralt spun as he stood, unsheathing his sword. Yennefer stood before him with a bag of her own. Geralt lowered his sword. “How the fuck-”

“You think so loudly it almost hurt my head.” Yen looked to Jaskier with soft eyes. She had gathered, from Geralt’s internal panicking, that Jaskier had been tortured for information about him. Seeing the state of the Bard, she knew he hadn’t told them anything.

“Can you return his voice?” Geralt broke Yen from her thoughts. 

“I can, though it won’t be pleasant. Trying to find a spell to break a curse when I don't know what one was used could take weeks of trial and…” She stopped talking when Jaskier began patting his pants’ pockets as frantically as he could.

Geralt, knowing Jaskier kept his notebook his pocket when for saddle bag and get the spare writing pad Jaskier had placed in there a month ago and handed it to the bard. Hand trembling, blood oozing onto the paper from his shortened finger, Jaskier wrote the curse down and handed the notebook to Yen.

“He speaks elder?” Yen sounded surprised.

“Fluently,” Geralt confirmed. 

“Know what curse was used makes this far more pleasant for all of us, Bard.” Yen closed her eyes for a second and said the spell in Elder with her hand held out towards Jaskier. 

Jaskier’s voice returned to him with an exclamation of “Oh shit. Thank you.” His voice was still hoarse from screaming but he could speak.

“Can you do anything for his wounds?” Geralt asked.

“Not yet. He’s lost too much blood. I’ll stay with the two of you and help when I can.”

“What concerns me most is this finger.” Geralt inspected the bleeding digit.

“He cut it because I said you were fucking his mother,” Jaskier rasped. Both Geralt and Yennefer looked to the bard with amused looks.

“What?” Yen laughed. 

“He asked where Geralt could be found. I told him fucking his mothing.” Jaskier coughed and Yen retrieved a waterskin and help him to drink. 

“Not too much too fast. You’ll get sick.” 

“What else did you tell?” Geralt was trying to distract Jaskier from the pain that would come with cleaning the bleeding finger.

“That your horse’s name is Roach.” Jaskier let out a whimper and instinctively tried to pull his hand away. 

Deciding to try a different method of distracting Jaskier, he proceeded to speak of the couple monsters he fought in their time apart. Though the story wasn’t as eloquent as the story about the Selkie Maw, the Witcher did his best to include more details than what the beast was and the fact that it was now dead.

*****

The three laid around the fire Yennefer started. She was sleeping, Geralt was resting but didn’t plan on sleeping until he knew Jaskier was fine. Jaskier was trying to fight the sleep trying to take its hold. He knew the stories of people who went mad because of nightmares they had; being forced to relive the hell they were put through.  

“I’m sorry.” Geralt’s gruff voice came from Jaskier’s left.

“Pardon?” Jaskier turned his head to look at his friend. 

“You wouldn’t be bleeding and wounded if I hadn’t left you.”

“Neither of us knew it was going to happen. I should be thanking for saving me. It feels so nice to have my arms at my sides.”

Geralt shook his head. “You know I’m to blame.”

“I don’t because I’m still here.” Jaskier yawned, sleep finally tugging on his eyelids. “Thank you.” And he drifted off to sleep.