#Or they'll try to shove me in whatever role is available

[shy-urban-hobbit]

8 with Lambert & Vesemir please if you want to 💕

8 - "I'm really disappointed in you."

I had two ideas for this one and I really wanted to write both so we have a modern au humour drabble with a little bit of role reversal which Lambert is way too happy about and/or fluffy/angst child Lambert under the cut where Vesemir learns Lambert doesn't use words to apologise (CW on that one for implied abuse/corporal punishment).

"I'm really disappointed in you." Lambert didn't even try to hide his smile as Vesemir was led out from the cells to the front of the station. Of all the days Geralt and Eskel had to be busy...

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Lambert crowed, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow in a parody of the pose Vesemir adopted every time he'd asked that of his youngest.

"Wrong place, wrong time." He answered as he walked out onto the wet, dark street. It really was - Vesemir had just been minding his own business at a nearby bar when all hell broke loose between a couple of guys and their respective friends. Vesemir wouldn't have gotten involved at all if someone hadn't thrown a right hook at him as he tried to leave and well...old habits and all that. It was just his luck Lambert was the only person available to come and post bail.

He might have realised too late what exactly he'd said, but Lambert certainly didn't. His smile morphed into a full on, shit eating grin as one of his own classic excuses fell from his father's mouth, "I've heard that before!" He yelled out, raising a finger and wagging it in exaggerated sternness, "When are you going to start thinking before you act? I swear, I never have this much trouble with Eskel and Geralt!"

"Are you done?" Vesemir deadpanned from where he was trying to walk ahead of the younger man.

"Not even close." Lambert laughed, jogging slightly to catch up so they were now walking side by side, "Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this opportunity? I'm not stopping until I've gone through your entire repertoire of Disappointed Dad phrases old man!"

Vesemir did an about face, "That's it. I'm seeing if they'll let me spend the night in the drunk tank."

"Ok, ok." Lambert said holding his hands up in a placating gesture, still grinning, "But you have to admit, the irony is pretty fucking funny."

Vesemir gave out a "hmm". He supposed he'd be able to laugh about it in the morning - he wasn't telling Lambert that though.

"C'mon. I'll buy you a drink, we should celebrate this. Vesemir's first run in with the law!"

"What makes you think that was my first?" Vesemir asked, ducking through the door of the first bar they came across and smirking at Lambert's spluttering.

"Wait, what...Vesemir??!"

It was nearing the end of Lambert's first month at Kaer Morhen when it happened. He was confident that he could handle whatever punishment he was about to receive and then Vesemir had gone and said those five words before dismissing him.

"I'm really disappointed in you."

That one phrase had cracked through the walls he'd built up during his short life and had settled unpleasantly in his chest. He'd grown used to people being angry at him thanks to his shit-stain of a father, his mother was the only one who'd ever felt fear for him and there had been absolutely none of that since he arrived here and got shoved into a bare dorm room with six other boys. He didn't think he'd ever had anyone express disappointment in him before - at least, not directly. He wasn't sure how to feel about this, which in turn was making him feel angry.

It wasn't his fault! Voltehre had dared him to try and steal something from one of the alchemy labs. If he hadn't done that, Lambert wouldn't have dropped that stupid ceramic bowl. He'd hidden the pieces as best he could, it had only been one of the smaller ones so it had been pretty easy really. Apparently that hadn't been good enough though as he found himself being summoned to Vesemir's office; where he'd resolutely denied all knowledge despite the evidence staring him right in the face from Vesemir's desk.

"What's up with you?" He looked up from where he'd been sat curled in on himself at the top of the stairs to the boys dorms, definitely not sulking. One of the younger, freshly turned Witchers he recognised as Eskel was leaning against the wall, looking down at him.

"Nothin'. Piss off, asshole." Lambert snarled into his knees.

Eskel only laughed, "Big words from such a small mouth. C'mon, either talk or piss off yourself. You're stinking up the hallway with that sad stench."

"M'not sad." Lambert said petulantly.

"Uh huh."

"Stupid Vesemir."

"What'd you do to get a beating from him?"

"Didn't beat me."

Eskel was silent for a minute before dropping down next to Lambert, "Let me guess. He did the 'I'm not angry, I'm disappointed' thing. Fucking hate that."

Lambert's head shot up in surprise. The last thing he'd expected was for the other to agree with him.

"So. What'd you do?" Eskel prompted again.

For some reason, Lambert found himself telling the whole story. How Vesemir had summoned him to his office to ask him about the broken bowl. How Lambert didn't understand why Vesemir was disappointed when he should be angry, right? That was usually what happened when people who weren't his father broke things (that would still be the fault of Lambert or his mother).

"You do know he'd be able to smell that you'd been in there, right?" Eskel asked from where he was leaning back on his elbows.

Lambert froze. He did now!

"He's not disappointed that you broke it, you know how many of those things we have in storage? He's disappointed that you lied about it. He'd have been able to smell that on you too, just so you know."

They sat in silence as Lambert digested this. That still didn't make sense. He still should have gotten a beating for the lying, shouldn't he?

He didn't realise he'd said that last part out loud until Eskel answered, "Honestly, if it had been any of the other Masters, you probably would have. Vesemir's harsh, but he's not the worst one here. Do you understand why you feel guilty now, though?"

Lambert nodded, "So, how do I make it go away?"

Eskel shrugged as he stood up to leave, "Figure that out yourself. I'm not your damn mother."

Lambert flipped him off in response, tapping his feet as Eskel's words called up thoughts of his mother. How she'd sit trying to salvage whatever his father had destroyed the previous night, how she'd smile that sad smile at him when he'd try to help. Hmm, maybe that was an idea? He picked himself up and hurried down the stairs shouting for Eskel. Maybe he'd know where to find what he needed.

Vesemir turned the bowl over in his hand. Calling the repair work amateur would be being generous. Thick lines of glue making the cracks appear large and obvious and giving the rim a slightly uneven quality, the surface was also uneven in some parts where the adhesive had dried in globs and smears, a couple of spots on his desk suggesting it hadn't fully dried when it had been left. Obviously the work of a child, confirmed by the now familiar scent it was covered in. He thought on the dark rings around Lambert's eyes that morning, his shuffling steps and wandering concentration during training. The lad must have been up all night working on this.

Vesemir gave a small chuckle as he placed it on a high shelf. No good for potion work now, but he'd find some use for it.