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weatherman667 · 4 months

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Favourite Fantasy Races

Preamble about Tolkien

Tolkien created the modern fantasy genre, and there is very little to criticize about it. Other than the fact he wrote it as an alternate history to our world. Our world doesn't have Elves or Dwarves or anything, and so he had to explain why, i.e. extinction. It is almost impossible to compare his mythology with anyone else, for one reason he has so much detail that he accounted for thousands of years of linguistic drift, and for the other, he had no contemporaries. His contemporaries made fun of him for wasting his time on it.

As such, most of Tolkien's races will not be included here.

Dwarves

My longtime favourite fantasy race. Unfortunately, very few people have any idea about them. Tokien made them Jews, but postitive, but also added simple and solid foundations for them. They lived underground because they dug too greedily and too deep. That said, a lot of Neanderthal features ended up becoming Dwarven features, as if we all had some genetic memory to draw from, (Tolkien was big on genetic memory).

While Dwarves in Nordic myth were known for being greedy, the only reference Tolkien had with Dwarves was that they DUG too greedily. They played with power they could not comprehend, and it lead to their downfall.

Alright, so, why do Dwarves have a reputation of being greedy?

How about because they are literally the ones digging the precious metals out of the mountain? How about skilled labour was the best way to make money? Oh, and trading. Jews afterall, so it would make great sense for them to have a strong understanding of economics. And then you had France that was so non-functional that they couldn't tax the nobles that actually had the money.

So, hard work, trade, economics, and time, all things that Dwarves have in spades.

Oh, and for the record, Tolkien never once said they have beards.

The Lion of Cynn: My own unpublished fantasy series. The Dwarves of the Lion of Cynn cycle are not as exciting or fantasy as most other series, but they are fantastic for character stories, (and every story should be a character story).

Overlord: If you have to have underground Dwarves, this is the way to do it. They actually have a coherent city, and it explicitly states that they trade for food. There are other nations from other races that they have external relations with.

Ingir: Ingir was a series of polls and shitposts to cobble together a fantasy world, but as such, it focuses on nation-scale designs that are very rarely considered. It also takes the real-world consequences to the existence of magics, and how societies would respond to them. TL;DR they have alchemy that basically creates nuclear power plants.

Warcraft: Not World of Warcraft, but pre-World of Warcraft Warcraft. The Great Wars ripped them out of their isolation in the mountain homes, and forced them to interact with the rest of the world. Their answer? Archeology. Dwarves spread across the world, exploring ancient ruins. Of course, this is a world where there are dangerous nearly world-ending relics and ruins strewn all over the world.

misc: Unfortunately, while Dwarves are one of the most common races, they are the least developed. They are often tokenized, and reduced to a single point. Ghim is one of the best Dwarves ever created, but he's just one man Dwarf. Gimli is the same. Dwarf Mage from Goblin Slayer is also fantastic, but that is an IP expressly created to not have character development, and falls on it's face whenever it tries.

HM:

Warhammer: Warhammer is based on the principle of everyone fighting everyone. As such, the world is kept loose, to allow everything to be changed to justify the change. As such, there are a number of points that have incredibly deep lore, but not a world you can really adventure in. 40K had Dwarves, gave them great lore, retgoned their own Dwarves, brought them back without ever acknowledging that they are Dwarves, and then bringing the original space Dwarves back. This time they had a much more well thought out army, but suffered from the tinge of wokeness.

Dragon's Crown: While almost exclusively a combat game, the Dwarf took old-school race-as-class Dwarves and did a fantastic job of them.

Dragon Age: They had an incredibly unique take on Dwarves, some of which I completely disagree with, but still fleshed out in incredible detail. Unfortunately, they seem to be going with the same way that Tokien was, by making everything other than Humans nearing extinction.

Darksiders: The makers are taller than even Nephilim, and literally crafted worlds.

Thor (marvel): Similar to Darksiders, but this time using a star they are stopping from collapsing to craft them.

Arcanum: A fantastic game in theory, a pretty shitty game in practice. Arcanum was the crucible that created my understanding of Dwarves. See, Dwarves in the setting had steam technology, and were only using it to draw water out of a mine. A Human took the technology and created the industrial revolution. Everyone with an interest in Dwarves should play through until you make friends of Magnus.

Elves

The most common fantasy race. Surprisingly, Japan is often much closer to the original Elves than the West. Everyone in the West is so intent on deconstructing every - single - fucking thing, that Elves have lost their divine nature. We can probably blame Warhammer for asshole Elves.

Skeleton Knight: Elves are divine and human, and eternal, but age slowly. This very rarely well done in works. The Elves have decade-long discussions about politics, and forget that only 500 years ago doesn't apply to Humans. Their solution to the dangerous world around them was to wall it off and create a paradise. Unlike Tolkien, paradise isn't given to them, but the product of millennia of careful management. They also have very well established combat abilities. Skeleton Knight is one of worlds that does practical magic incredbily well.

Unicorn Overlord: The most extensive Elven nation that might have ever been created. And I don't mean just big, but finely crafted in ever detail. They live at peace with the Fey, and use them to bring themselves prosperity, as they hide from the outer world of warring Human nations. They weave magic into every aspect of their lives, and combat. Another one that does Elven magic combat as completely distinct from that of Humans, and does it fantastically well.

Cynn: Again, my own fantasy world. Elves live so long that they just ignore most of what happened. You have to ask really specific questions. Their long lives have also prevent them from really creating a culture, as the magic running through their bodies causes extends far enough to make sure that equipment carried on their bodies lasts nearly as long as they do.

Warcraft: Not World of Warcraft, but pre-World of Warcraft. WoW is the best and worst thing to ever happen to Warcraft. It put you in the living world, but the most simplistic version of it. And then you get to watch as they torture the lore to have the Blood Elves have gain Paladins by torturing what's basically an angel. Warcraft is one of the first IP's to actually take Tolkien's work and delve into the history of it. This is back from the Long, Long Ago, when video games came with novels worth of gamelore. They created the Kaledorei, Children of the Stars, and turned the original Elves from into the High Born, or Quel'Dorei. They had the highest magickal ability, and used this to claim the magickal might makes right. The Kaledorei are a brilliant use of the Dark Elf trope. Rather than being evil, they were wild. The females worshipped the moon, while them took the form and nature of wild beasts. Combat-wise, as it is WARcraft, afterall, they made the Elves a unique blend that doesn't exist anywhere else.

DM:

Warhammer: Single-handedly responsible for the Elves are Assholes deconstruction that we still have to live through.

Gnomes

Gnomes are near and dear to my heart, but I honestly don't like any of their designs.

Lion of Cynn: Yes, again, my own world. I worked hard to account for their disparate nature.

World of Warcraft: Unfortunately, we never truly see Gnomes until WoW. There are a couple of Gnomish units that established them as Tinker Gnomes, but that was it. Which was unfortunately the best Gnomish design. Unfortunately because of how WoW destroyed not just Warcraft, but every - single - thing that Blizzard would go on to produce.

Beastfolk

Very common in anime, for one simple reason. Catgirls. Catgirls that are oppressed. Catgirls that the protagonist can legally enslave, and then treat her better than she had ever been treated before to earn her undying loyalty. Unfortunately, because it's Japan, they tend to just have animal ears, and maybe a tail. This does match some descriptions of Youkai in Japan, however. Many of whom could actually transform into a much larger, more monstrous form.

Unicorn Overlord: This establishes the different beastfolk as bloodlines. Each race is unique, into the world and in combat, and perfectly strides the line of animal and man. The characters also pay respect to various mythologies.

Monster Girl Doctor: MonMusu did a lot of research into making the animal girls truly unique, but it's main flaw was a complete lack of a story. This was solved in Monster Girl Doctor by making him a doctor, and as such we ended up with a much more fleshed out world, that has history, weight, and... cute monster girls.

Cat Planet Cuties: A complete parody of the entire history of science fiction with beautiful, soulful characters. The premise is that Earth makes first contact with aliens, and they are cute catgirls, who are in a cold war with cute doggirl aliens. And they act the perfect combination of Human and Cat(girl).

Mushoku Tensei: Mushoku Tensei is the ancestor of most modern Isekai stories. Or, to put it another way, 95% of Isekai stories are a cheap knockoff of it. Every single facet of the world that Mushoku Tensei delves into, it does in fantastic, beautiful, and horrifying detail. And one of the things they did was visit the recent Wolf Girl's tribal home.

Arifureta: One of the only isekai anime to actually... differentiate their Beastfolk. Not just from Humans, but from each other. And, to be honest, Shea is one of my favourite characters of all time in anime.

RWBY Chibi/Fanworks: RWBY gave us a wide variety of Beastfolk in the Faunus, and then did practically nothing with them. To be fair to V1-5 seasons, V1-3 had 3-5min episodes, and 4-5 was resolving the storylines already created. V6+ has no such excuse. But then RWBY Chibi just wanted to have fun. They gave Faunus the traits of their animals, and this encouraged the fans to have even more fun with it than they were already having.

#fantasy #elves #dwarves #gnomes #beastfolk

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noladyme · 4 years

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The Princess Frog. Epilogue

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria. Instead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All sound tracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

I hope you have enjoyed reading this, as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future writings.

- no lady

Tag list:

@ayamenimthiriel

Epilogue - The Queen Frog

It was spring. The flowers in my private garden were budding; and a few were in full bloom – making them ripe for harvest. I walked past the chamomile; inhaling the sweet smell. It made me think of my Tootie. Thrude had passed a year ago – Eist having sent a letter with the information, and his warm condolences. Not long after, Mousesack had visited me. His grief was deep; but he had told me that seeing me still wearing her frog around my neck, brought him much joy.

“Mousesack; was I hurting Thrude, when she healed me as a child? Was she draining herself for me?”, I’d asked. The wizard laughed out loud. “Do you think all she was feeding you was chamomile and honey?”, he guffawed. “My dear; Thrude had years of training as a vöelve before you were even born. She knew how to heal using plants and other medicines; that was what she was using on you”. He took my hand. “She also didn’t have your powers. She was teaching you how to use what you had naturally in you; by using the words, that would help you in the future”.

And I was learning to use them properly. Triss saw to that.

Ylva had got a cut to her arm while in a tussle with a drunkard in a tavern, who had told her women couldn’t be soldiers. She’d insisted she didn’t need treatment; but I couldn’t let my personal guard walk around with cuts and bruises that might fester. So, I was preparing a poultice of celandine and wolfs aloe. Saoirsheen walked up to me, as I was kneeling in one of the flowerbeds.

“Your majesty, he’s here!”, she smiled broadly. Saoirsheen had been with me, as my lady in waiting, ever since Cynnes had passed from old age three years before.

My heart leapt; and I smiled broadly. “Where is he?”, I asked, almost giddily. “He’s shoving grapes into his mouth in your dining room”, she smirked. I quickly wiped my hands in my apron, and took it off; handing it to her. “How long has it been?”, she asked. I frowned. “Not since Foltests and my two year anniversary, I think”, I answered. “There was that midsummer feast the year after that”, she smiled. I scoffed a laugh. “Yes, but he was piss-drunk; and had his face buried in the countess De Stael’s cleavage”, I said. “Right”, Saoirsheen laughed.

I walked into the door of the kitchen; then made my way up the stairs, and down a hallway to my private chambers. Ajvin was standing outside the door to my dining room. “Is it true, my queen?”, he asked; his voice shaking with excitement. “Is it really him? Will you introduce me?”. I smiled and nodded. “I will, Ajvin”, I said. “You will see him at the feast, and I will introduce you to him. Maybe he’ll even let you accompany him in a song”. I winked at the man. “For now, I need to speak to him privately”. Ajvin nodded. “Yes, your majesty”, he said, and stepped aside.

I opened the doors to the room. I never had guards outside my chambers – or inside – except for Ylva. It made me feel uncomfortable to constantly be watched by anyone else.

By the end of the large table – in my own seat, no less – sat a blue eyed; brightly smiling man.

“Jaskier!”, I said. The bard sprang to his feet. He ran over to me; and took my outstretched hand; kissing it. “Princess!”, he smiled. I raised a brow at him. “Queen…”, I smirked. Jaskiers smile broadened into a grin. I put my arms around him for a warm hug.

We went to sit by the table. I gave the bard a light tap over the back of his head, when he went for my chair. He took a seat next to it instead. “Did you eat most of the fruit already?”, I jeered. “I had to”, Jaskier answered. “I was worried you might start throwing it around if I didn’t”. I laughed. “How have you been?”, I asked. “You know…”, he said. “Travelling. Falling in love. Performing. Falling out of love. Almost died from a djinn-attack…”. “That sounds like a story!”, I said. He smiled. “I haven’t written the song yet”, he winked at me. “So, my queen. You have asked me to come here for a certain reason”.

I nodded. “Adda’s 20’th birthday-celebration”, I said. “She was very clear that she wanted the great bard Jaskier to perform. I think she has a crush on you, from when she saw you at that midsummer feast two years ago”. Jaskier’s face lit up. “Really?”, he asked. I frowned at him. “Don’t even think about it bard; or I’ll have Ylva cut of your bollocks and serve them to you on a plate”, I said menacingly. “Besides; she’s still… having troubles controlling herself; after her difficult beginnings as a striga”. Jaskiers face scrunched up. “I’ll make sure not to butter that biscuit, then”, he muttered. I threw a grape at his head. He laughed. “There she is…”, he smirked.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. “He’s here…”, Jaskier suddenly said. I looked at him; my breath hitching. “Here?”, I said. Jaskier nodded. “He owed me a favor from… almost getting me killed”, he answered. “I insisted he travel with me here, as my bodyguard”. I smirked. “Last time you did that; he ended up with a child of surprise”, I said. The bard laughed nervously. “Yes well, I trust you don’t have any pregnant princesses wandering the halls”. I scoffed a laugh. “No pregnancies here”, I said. “We avoid them. Like the plague”.

Jaskier sighed. “He wanted to come”. “He said that?”, I asked, and poured myself a goblet of mead. It was Jaskier’s turn to scoff. “It’s Geralt. Does he ever say anything, unless he has to?”. He used to say many things, I thought to myself.

I took a large sip of my drink. “The feast”, I said. “Tonight. You will perform?”. Jaskier nodded. “Of course. But I thought you already had a court-bard.”. “We do”, I laughed. “But in all honesty; he’s terrible”. Jaskier laughed. “Why keep him?”. I smiled warmly. “He’s a good boy; our Ajvin”, I said. “And he’s managed to spawn 4 children with his wife. He needs the pay”. Jaskier grabbed my hand. “You’re a good queen, your majesty”, he said. “And a kind woman”. I grinned at him. “Maybe; but I still have the mouth of a fucking sailor!”.

We laughed together; when suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Yes?”, I called. My good friend – the court-enchantress – stepped in. “Triss!”, I smiled. “You’ve arrived! How was Aretuza?”. She smiled. “Filled with the grunts and moanings of old men; as per usual. I’ve come to celebrate the princess. I’m in desperate need of some cheer and good times”. I stepped over to give her a hug. “Well then”, I said. “Let’s have them!”. Triss nodded. “Yes”, she said. “But tomorrow – training!”. I scoffed. “I’ll be hung over…”. The enchantress smirked at me. “All the more reason to train. It’ll wake up your brain”.

I hadn’t used my powers for anything serious since my run in with O’Dimm. There had never been reason to. But they remained there; and I knew I had to control them.

Saoirsheen came into the room then. “Your majesty. I was unsure whether you wanted the velvet or the silk gown tonight”. I frowned. “Hel’s ass; can’t I just wear pants?”, I said. Triss laughed behind me. “Come, bard”, she said. “Our Zaba has preparations to make”.

They went to leave through the door. “Jaskier!”, I called after them. “If you sing that song…”. I looked at him menacingly. He grinned at me. “I’ll take my chances”, he winked; and he and Triss left the room.

---

I was standing in my bedchamber; brushing my hair. He’s here. It was like a jolt through my body, just thinking of Jaskier’s words. I wondered if he’d changed. I knew I had. I was older; though only a few years – but I knew that those years on the throne, had rid me of at least some of the rough edges of my former life.

I’d taken my role as queen seriously. My husband had been respectful, even kind. And he listened to me; and guided me through the complicated politics of court life. I recalled how terrified I’d been; standing in front of the grim man at our wedding. Not a smile had ghosted his face at any point of the ceremony. Just hardness. So I had taken him as being that. Hard. Cold. I’d had so much to learn.

Our wedding had been grand. I’d kept from crying my way through it, by reminding myself of the people that needed me to be here. Jaskier had told his most thrilling stories, and sung his best songs – even on my wedding-day I could not avoid The Foulmouthed Princess of the Skellige Isles. It had made my new husband laugh heartily. The first time I saw him smile.

I remembered that night with him – our wedding night – as we had shared a meal in private; before we were to go to bed.

I was picking at my food; heart in my throat from what was to come. And I remembered Geralts eyes before he turned around, and walked out of my life. “My lady”, my new husband suddenly said. Not my queen or my wife. “It is vital to me, that I make it clear, why you are here”. I gulped. “I am at your disposal; your majesty”, I whispered. “I need a queen at my side; and a mother for my daughter”. Foltest drained his goblet, and looked at me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the urge for a bedmate; so, I shan’t be bothering you for that”.

I was flabbergasted; sat, mouth agape. The king took my hand in his own two. “You will have a crown; a home; and public displays of my chaste love. And your cousin and his wife will have my armies”. He looked down. “My heart still belongs to my daughters’ mother; however repulsive you might find that. I hope you can live with me on these terms. If not…”.

I sighed, swallowed; and looked up at him, meeting his pained eyes. “And what of friendship, and respect?”, I said. “Friendship?”, Foltest asked.

“I can live with you on your terms. But I cannot be a puppet to be put on display, whenever it suits your majesty. I wish to be heard; and seen as a queen and woman in my own right”.

Foltest stifled a laughter, and narrowed his eyes at me. “I was told you’d be a handful”, he murmured. “I will treat you with whatever respect you earn from me; and I promise never to be unkind. Should this seem to you as friendship, I have nothing against it. I’ll welcome it”.

I smiled and nodded. “Then you have your wife”.

He put a chaste kiss on my hand. “And you have a husband”.

So, I was queen. And it was good, for many people. My cousin. His wife. Those were less important to me.

But then there were people like Saoirsheen; and others like her; who needed a safe haven, that I now had the power to create for them.

Ajvin and Lysa; and their brood of children. The bard sang and performed as best he could – bringing cheer and laughter to the courts hearts, every time he played a false note.

Filivandrel and his people – whom I’d promised to stop Nilgaard from using me for evil.

Ylva and her pack. She’d never gone back; but in stead was now my greatest protector and personal guard. Flaxon had showed up shortly after the wedding with a sour expression on his lips; and I’d informed my husband of his crimes. “Your majesty; you’d belive this woman over me?”, Flaxon said. “You ask me if I believe my wife – the queen – over you?”, Foltest said. “Yes, Flaxon. I do”. He’d been stripped of his rank; and now spent his days in a Maribor cell. The one I had been placed in myself, those years back.

Five years. Five years of learning and growing. Days of boring meetings, where my husband would roll his eyes at me behind the back of his counsellors. Days of working with Triss; and riding the fields and forests outside Vizima, on my stallion – Bayrd. I’d been a mother. Not to a child I had given birth to myself; but to a teenaged girl with a troubled heart and mind. And I’d guided her, best as I could, with the help of Triss. I would tell her fairytales about moonwraiths and witchers, succubi and bards. And I’d stroked her hair when she could not sleep from nightmares. I loved Adda, and she loved me. But she was difficult.

Saoirsheen joined me in my chamber; carrying a purple velvet gown. “Oh gods”, I said. “Not that one!”. Saoirsheen smiled. “The princess insisted”, she smiled. “Mother looks so pretty in that one, she said”. I sighed defeatedly. “Fine”, I said, and took the bundle of fabric from my ladys hands. Saoirsheen went to look for shoes for me. “Would you like to take a bath before the feast?”. “No”, I said. “After. I think I’ll need it to calm my nerves”. The half elf smiled. “He’s in the courtyard”, she said. I looked at her. “Thank you, Saoirsheen”. She set a pair of shoes on the floor in front of the bed, and took her leave.

I walked to the window; and looked down into the courtyard. I found him instantly.

He was talking to one of the stable-hands; with a very serious expression on his face. The man nodded – looking terrified – and took the reins of a red mare from him; leading it into the stable. “Not next to the black stallion!”, I heard the witcher growl after him.

My breath hitched; and – as if he’d heard me – he looked up. His amber eyes found mine; and I parted my lips – having to remind myself to breathe. Looking at me; his expression was warm and strangely sorrowful. His lips twitched into a smile for a second.

It was as if we stood there for hours; just looking at each other. Suddenly, his head turned; and I saw Jaskier walking towards him. The bard patted his shoulder, and said a few words; before looking up and meeting my eyes with a grin. I nodded at them both; and stepped away from the window.

I had to sit on the edge of the bed for a second; to control my shaking hands. Saoirsheen came back into the room. “The king is expecting you, madam”, she said. I nodded; and begun the task of getting dressed.

Purple velvet; draping over my body; like a 10 layer cake. White, frilly lacing across my chest, and at the bottom of the sleeves and skirt. I put on my necklace – the one with the small frog landing between my breasts. Saoirsheen managed to tame my hair into a somewhat regal style; and I went to join my husband, outside my chambers.

Foltest took my hand and kissed it. “You look beautiful, my queen”, he said warmly. “I look like a fucking dessert”, I said. He chuckled; and led me down the stairs to the great hall.

---

Horns blared when we entered the room. “Yes, yes. We’re here now”, I muttered bellow my breath.

Adda was already dancing; sashaying around a young count, who was having great difficulty in keeping up with her energy. I nodded at Triss, who was in deep conversation with a visiting wizard from Ban Ard - looking terribly bored.

Foltest and I went to our thrones – ridiculous things that I hated sitting on – to overlook the festivities. Adda looked at us and waved, with a grin on her face. Jaskier was playing a happy jaunt; and she skipped over to him, twirling around in front of him. He smiled cheekily; before looking at me. I raised a brow at him, and winked, then gestured at Ylva; who was lurking menacingly in a corner. The bard gave a nervous giggle, and returned his focus to his lute.

“We’ll have to get her married off soon”, my husband murmured. I sighed. “Yes, well… you know how I feel about that”. He frowned. “She’ll have the choice of man she wants”, he said. “I just hope she makes the right one”. I squeezed his hand. “We’ll guide her”.

“I received a letter from your cousin today”, Foltest said; taking a sip from his goblet. I’d turned him on to Skelliger mead. “With 10 barrels of your favorite, I’m guessing”, I said. He chuckled. “You know me too well”, Foltest chuckled. “He sends his best, and speaks of his grandchild”. I clenched my jaw. “Anything in particular?”. I had not seen Eist in years; and knew very little about his and Calanthes grandchild – the child of Pavetta. Pavetta herself, had drowned while travelling from Skellige to Cintra; and I knew that it must have broken Calanthes heart; making her overly protective of the child. “Not much. It grows healthily”, Foltest said. “Good”, I said quietly.

I was deep in thought, when suddenly the king sat up straight. “Is that the witcher? Geralt of Rivia?”. I looked up.

The doors had opened; and there stood Geralt – stripped of his weapons, and looking very uncomfortable. My mouth opened; but I couldn’t speak. “I haven’t seen him since he brought you here”, Foltest said. “Five years”, I muttered. “Yes”, my husband agreed. “I owe him a great thanks for his service”, he said smilingly. I tried to match his smile; feeling very short of breath. “Bring him forward”, the king said to his crier. I dug my fingers into the armrest of my throne; convinced that I’d fall of my seat if I didn’t.

“Geralt of Rivia; witcher!”, the crier called out, and an embarrassed looking Geralt stepped forward. He looked at Foltest, and nodded. “Your majesty”, he said. His voice still sent shivers down my spine – dark and brusque, but bellow it, a great warmth. His eyes met mine; and he got on one knee – bowing to me. Geralt doesn’t bow to anyone. He took my hand; and kissed it – the feeling of his lips to my skin an instant reminder, of where else on my body they had been. “My queen”, he muttered. He stood back up, facing Foltest.

“Witcher”, the king said solemnly. “When I saw you last, I did not thank you, for your protection and care of my wife”. Geralt smiled. “The honor was mine”, he said. Foltest laughed. “Come now, witcher!”, he said. “We both know she can be a bloody pain in the ass!”. Geralt laughed; and I bit my cheek to avoid saying something un-queenly. “None the less, my friend”, Foltest said. “I am honored to have you here for this celebration. Just don’t start any fights, or claim any children”, he jeered.

Geralt looked at me somberly. “Am I to understand congratulations are in order?”. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “No”, I said quickly. The first word I had spoken to him in five years. Foltest took my hand. “Alas, the gods have not blessed our union with any children”. He looked at me meaningfully. I smiled. Geralt narrowed his eyes at me.

Foltest drained his goblet. “Well”, he said. “I brought you forward to thank you, and so I will. Thank you, witcher”. He kissed my hand. “Now; I will go dance with my daughter. Sit with my wife; entertain her. She’s been very bored lately; I’ve noticed”. Foltest got up; and went to join Adda.

Geralt sat down in the chair next to me. We were quiet for a while. “A-are you well?”, I stammered. “I am”, he grumbled. We were quiet for a moment longer. “And you?”, he said. “Yes”, I smiled. Geralt looked towards the floor, where my husband was lifting my stepdaughter into the air; and twirling her around – to great applause and cheer from the guests. Jaskier was making a grimace; and trying to nod approvingly at Ajvin; who was playing his best rendition of The Fishmongers Daughter.

Geralts body so close to mine sent waves of warmth through me. “Does he… treat you well?”, the witcher asked. I smiled. “He treats me like a queen”, I answered. Geralt grunted. “With all that entails…”.

I looked at him and laughed. “Are you jealous of my husband, witcher?”. He scoffed. “What? The sweaty sister fucker?”. I frowned softly. “My husband…”, I began. “My marriage… it’s turned out very differently than what I had imagined. In spite of the sister fucking”. I took a large gulp of my mead. “How so?”. Geralt lifted a brow at me.

I sat up straight; trying to look completely at ease with our conversation. It wasn’t like it was his business – but I felt that he should know. “My husbands… carnal desires, aren’t much to speak of”, I smiled meekly. “I haven’t been with a man since…”. I bit my lip. “Your wedding night”, Geralt said. I met his eyes. “Since you…”. Geralt looked stunned. “Oh!... well…Fuck!”, he said. I smiled. “Well, not really”, I said. He chuckled and nodded. “Right…”.

Foltest came back to sit with me; panting. “I am getting to old for this”, he said, out of breath. “Do you dance, witcher?” “I do not”, Geralt chuckled. I smiled. “You don’t dance. You don’t sing”. I raised a brow at him. “Is there anything you do?”. He smirked at me. “Kill monsters and tame frogs”. I laughed. Geralt stood up and nodded his head at us. “I should go fulfill my duties to the bard”, he sneered. Jaskier was being held against a wall by a baron; who’s blushing wife stood by, looking at the scene. Geralt took my hand, and kissed it again. “Your majesty”, he said softly. He narrowed his eyes at me. “That dress looks ridiculous on you”, he whispered. I chuckled in response. The witcher went to help his friend.

“He made you happy”, Foltest muttered. I looked at him in shock. He squeezed my hand and smiled warmly at me. “I might be old, but I’m not blind”. I looked down. “I want you to be happy, wife”, my husband said softly. I sighed. “He did”. Foltest nodded. “We need drinks and music. Bard! Sing that song we talked about”.

Jaskier – having been let lose by the baron – stepped onto the middle of the floor; and began.

“Once a lady from Kaer Trolde fared, with skin so smooth, and beautiful hair. She held the heart of many a man; but mouths stood agape, when she speaking began.”

Foul mouthed lady, be kind onto me And I’ll be your thrall, I will never flee. Foul mouthed princess, have mercy, I plea And I shall be ever a servant of thee

The foulmouthed princess of the Skellige Isles The foulmouthed princess, the foulmouthed princess, the foulmouthed princess of the Skellige Isles!”

---

I partook in the festivities as long as I could manage; before – with a smile to my husband, and a kiss on my stepdaughter’s cheek – I retired to my chambers. It was good to see him, I thought to myself. He would be gone in the morning.

As she’d promised; Saoirsheen had had the maids prepare a bath for me. I shed myself of the monstrosity Adda called a dress, and was about to step into the tub; when I realized that they’d forgotten to leave towels for me. I didn’t want to call out for help. I hated being waited on; and only accepted Saoirsheens help; because she was more friend than servant. In combination, she and Triss made me feel like I was still in my Tooties warm embrace.

I wrapped myself in a robe; and went to the door, to make my way to the linen closet down the hall. I opened the door; and was met by Geralt. “Saoirsheen said…”, he began. “She said to bring you these”. He handed me two towels – one for my hair, another for my body. I took the towels. “Thank you”, I said, meeting his eyes.

I stepped back for him to enter. He looked around the room. “It’s very different that a tavern”, he said. “Or a wood shack”, I smiled. He grunted a smile back.

I went to lay the towels next to the tub. It was steaming. “I was about to have a bath”, I said. Geralt nodded. “Yes, of course”, he grumbled. “I’ll come back”. He went for the door. “No, please!”, I halted him. “Stay… talk. It’s been so long. The water is to hot anyway”. He smirked. “That’s never been an issue before”, he said. I chuckled. “Five years in a castle and on a throne has made me a weakling, I’m afraid”, I said. “Never”, he muttered.

I looked at him; unsure what to say. “B-but you. You’ve not changed…”, I said. “Never more than what I told you that time”. I have changed. You’ve been a part of that change. He looked at me meaningfully. I swallowed hard.

“There must have been someone else, witcher”, I said. Geralt grunted. “There was… maybe is…”. His expression became tentative. I smiled. “Our lives are different now”, I said. “I always knew… You don’t owe me anything, Geralt. You are allowed to love”. He sighed deeply. “I did love…”, he said; and met my eyes. “As did I”, I answered quietly. He frowned. “And now?”, he asked.

I took his hand, and pressed it to my lips. “You wrote your name on my life”, I said. “As I wrote mine on yours. What we were… are… no one and nothing can change that”. The witcher smiled softly. “What we’ve taken and given”. I nodded. “I can’t say that you will always have a place in my heart; because that would mean that you’d left it”. He grunted, and squeezed my hand.

I sighed. Take it. “There is another place you will always have, though. A place I know you will have to leave”, I said. “But… it will always be here for you when you come back”. He looked at me confusedly. “What do you mean?”, he said. I smiled; and slid my hands behind his neck. “For all your improved eyesight, witcher…”, I said, “… you are blind”. I pulled his face to mine, and kissed him.

It had been so long, but the warmth; the passion… it was all there. Geralts hands found my waist; pulled me to him. “Little frog…”, he breathed. “Always”, I whispered. Our kiss became heated – his warm body familiar; yet new. His tongue tasted like a million unspoken words. Words that he had saved for me; but could never utter. I pulled back.

“You can send me away”, he said. “I won’t”, I whispered.

Squeezing his hand; I stepped over to the door, and bolted it. I felt him moving up behind me; and his hands slid around my torso; as he drew in the scent of my hair. “Still…”, he said. I smiled at the sensation of his warm breath to the back of my head; and turned around to face him again.

I put my hands on his chest. “I want…”, I began. “Yes?”, he said. “I need…”. He pulled me towards him; and slid his finger from my chin; down my collarbone; and rest it by the pendant between my breasts. “Tell me, your majesty”, he smirked. My breath hitched; as the finger slid behind my robe; and found my breast – stroking softly just above my nipple. “Geralt”, I breathed. “Will you let me finish my sentence?”. He chuckled softly; and let his hand cup my breast - his thumb stroking the nub of the nipple. “If you can…”, he said. “Tell me. What is this place you have for me?”.

I took his free hand and drew it down my torso. “Here”, I whispered; and placed it between my legs; letting his fingers find my folds. He groaned as he found me already wet from want. I threw my head back and gasped; almost throbbing already, when his index finger slid between my labia; stroking the path from my nub to my entrance, and back again. “It is a good place”, he smirked. “Then explore it more”, I moaned.

He growled; and pushed me against the door; sliding two fingers into me. “I have missed this place”, he chuckled. “It is warm… slick… always wanting”. I mewled. “It’s wanted you for five years”, I said. He leaned in to me; pressing his fingers deeper inside my warmth. “Hmm”, he breathed into my ear. “That must be why it is so much tighter than I remember”. His palm began massaging my bundle of nerves; drawing swearwords from my mouth, not even I knew I had in me.

Geralt used his free hand to open my robe; and pull it off my shoulders – before dropping it on the floor. “I think the bath is cool enough. Let’s go warm it up again”. He drew his fingers from me – making me moan from the lack of contact – and put them in his mouth, tasting. The look of pleasure on his face; was enough to make me gasp and my tunnel tighten.

“I want to undress you”, I said. He smiled, and stepped back; letting my arms free for my task. I opened his jerkin, and pushed it off his shoulders; making it hit the floor with a bump. Running my hand across his chest; I walked around him. I slid my hands under the hem of his shirt; running them up his back, and lifting the fabric along the way. He helped me pull the shirt over his head.

I gently kissed the scar on his shoulder, where – so many years before – I’d treated his wound from the fight with the foglets. Cinnamon and neem. No chamomile. I felt him shiver under my touch. “Are you cold, witcher?”, I said. “Or do I scare you?”. He chuckled. “You’ve always scared me little frog”, he said. “But no more than now”. I stepped in front of him, and tilted my head. “What are you afraid of?”, I asked. He looked suddenly apprehensive. “That I’ll close my eyes; and when I open them again, you will be gone”. I smiled. “I’m here”, I said. “Now remind me that you are as well”.

Geralts eyes grew dark; and I swallowed hard, remembering what that expression on his face had led to, when we knew each other before. “Bath”, he growled. I gasped as he picked up my naked body; and carried me to the large tub. He leant down; as if to gently seat me in the warm water; but stopped a few inches above the surface – found my eyes, and grinned at me. “Geralt…!”, I managed; before he let go, dropping me into the water with a splash. I heard him laugh as I was resurfacing; and rubbing the water out of my eyes. “You’ll pay for that!”, I snarled; without being able to stifle my laughter. He quickly removed his boots and breeches. “I have the best currency right here”, he smirked; and released his hardness from his pants. My jaw dropped. I have missed you, I thought; sitting face to face with that most cherished part of his body.

Geralt stepped into the tub; making the water splash onto the floor. He sat down facing me; and realizing I was too stunned to move; he pulled me onto his lap, so I was straddling him. His fingers found my folds again. “Remember that night?”, he breathed. I moaned. “I remember many nights”, I smiled, panting. “At taverns… in haylofts… against trees… under the stars”. He chuckled. “You were so angry”. He slid his fingers into me again; his palm against my clit. “So beautiful”. I began riding his hand. “You wouldn’t let me come in the bath”, I breathed. “You made me wait”. He put his free arm around me; and pulled me close. I threw my head back and closed my eyes. “I won’t make you wait this time”, he growled into my ear; and his fingers and palm worked in perfect coordination – pushing and rubbing – until I was just about ready to come.

“Look at me”, he demanded. “I want to see your eyes”. Panting and mewling, I opened my eyes, and met his. His pupils were blown from lust; and his lips were pulled back into a snarl. “Do you want this?”, he asked; and I nodded with bated breath. “Then come for me, your majesty!”. His hand moved faster; and without breaking eye-contact; I rode him into extasy. My loins felt like they combusted; and my walls clenched around his fingers. In the end, I collapsed onto his chest.

He gently drew out his fingers, and removed the hair from my face to look at me. “This I remember”, he smiled. “What?”, I panted. “My well and fucked look?”. He growled. “I haven’t fucked you yet”. I felt his hard cock twitch against my stomach; and I smirked. “Well, as long as you’re here…”, I said. He narrowed his eyes. “Not yet”, he said. “I seem to remember as well; that you have a mouth on you”. I bit my lip. “That fucking lip”, he rumbled; pulled my face in for a kiss; sucking hard at my lower lip. “Get up”, he demanded.

I got out of the bath; my body dripping with water. Geralt got up behind me; his member rigid and wanting. “Bed”, he said; and with bated breath I walked over to the bed; seating myself on the edge of it. “No. On your knees”. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you asking the queen of Temeria to kneel for you?”, I smirked. His eyes were animal. “I’m telling you, woman; to get on your fucking knees and face the bed”. With shaking legs and a pounding heart; I did as I was told. “Good”, the witcher said; passing me to sit down in front of me on the bed. He looked at me for what seemed like forever. Then his face warmed, and he smiled. “Please”, he said. I smiled up at him.

Sliding my fingers around his shaft; I placed the head on my tongue; instantly recognizing the taste of him. I let out a moan; and slid him into my mouth. He groaned above me; sliding his fingers through my wet hair. I ran my nails down his torso; playing with the hair there; before gently cradling his testes. I bobbed my head up and down; never breaking eye-contact with the witcher. He smiled at me so gently; making me feel as if I had never looked more beautiful.

“How many nights I have thought of you like this”, he moaned. “Your hair wild, and your eyes… Shit!”. He cried out, as I took him deep into my mouth, sucking and swallowing; so he would feel the tension around his hardness. “Careful; someone will hear us!”, he breathed. I pulled him out; and pumped his length. “No one will hear us”, I said. “My rooms are empty at night, save for myself – and the occasional guest”.

Geralt looked at me wonderingly. “You said you hadn’t been with anyone since me”, he breathed, as I continued pumping him; and lapping at his tip. “I said I hadn’t been with any men”, I smirked. Geralts eyebrows raised, and he chuckled at me. “You’re always a surprise, woman”, he said. I stroked my tongue from the root to the tip of him. “I like to think of my life as a series of journeys”, I smiled. He placed both his hands on the sides of my face; drawing me to him. “Well”, he rumbled. “Let’s go on another one”.

He met my lips; and let the tip of his tongue met mine; before picking me up by the waist; and straddling me on him. I grabbed at his cock; desperately wanting him inside me; but he took a hold of my wrist; stopping me. “No”, he said. “No?”, I asked. He bared his teeth. “Hungry”, he growled. My eyes widened.

As if I weighed no more than a small animal; he flipped me around; laying me on the bed. He grabbed me behind my knees; and tugged me towards him – the sudden jolt of it making me gasp. He kneeled in front of the bed, and looked into me. “Has it changed much?”, I smiled at him. He exhaled and narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to taste it”.

I drew in a breath; and his lips closed around my folds. He stuck his tongue inside me; after which he slid it up between my labia – letting it flicker over my nub. “Still sweet”; he said softly; before diving in again – taking the same route. “But more…”. He paused. “What?”, I breathed. He sent me a wicked smile. “Royal”. I laughed; which soon turned into a mewl, when he once again dove in to me. He flattened his tongue; and stroked it up and down my slit – all along holding my hips down; so I couldn’t move. “Fingers!”, I moaned. I heard him chuckle, and he slipped his fingers into me again; pressing upwards. His lips closed around my nub; and he suckled at it. First softly, then hard – as if he was in fact trying to devour me. My legs began shaking; and I once again saw stars and contracted around his fingers.

As I was still laying – panting – Geralt moved up my body; wiping his face of my juices. “I think I’ll have you now”, he growled smilingly. My breath heaving; I nodded, and spread my legs further for him to enter me. “No”, he said. I was dumbfounded “No? Geralt!”, I panted. He smiled. “I don’t want to use you up to fast”, he said; sliding his hands around the outsides of my breasts. He sucked at my left nipple; while pulling at my right. “I don’t think I ever had you here”, he said.

My lips parted. “No, you didn’t”, I said. “May I?”, he said. I bit my lip; and he groaned; catching my mouth in a brutal kiss; before straddling my waist, and placing himself between my breasts. He pushed my warm mounds around his hardness, and began thrusting slowly. He was careful not to place his full weight on me as he went; but his eyes were wild – the amber staring all the way into my soul. I scratched my nails down his chest, and he growled.

He was pulling at my nipples as he thrusted, sending sparks from them to my core. My small mewls every time I felt one of them, made him smile. “I will have to be careful I don’t come like this”, he groaned. “You were always able to continue quite soon, after you’d finished”, I smiled. “Yes”, he said. “But I want to come inside you”. He lifted himself off me, and looked at me; eyes suddenly soft. “Can you take me?”, he asked “It’s not been long since you came last, and I don’t want to…”. “Just fuck me, Geralt”, I said, and laughed. He smiled widely.

“Do you remember that first night we laid in bed together? At the inn?”. He ran his fingers from my collarbone, between my breasts; all the way down my stomach; ending up in my curls, playing with them. I laughed and nodded. “I thought you hated me”, I said. “I’d just tried to run away; so you tied me to the bed”. He placed himself between my legs; and lifted my knees – leaving me open for him. “That whole night I was pretending to sleep. In reality I wanted nothing more than to press my body against yours, and…”, he slid his fingers between my slick folds, opening and entering me, “… slide in to you”. His breath was warm against my neck, as he began moving slowly; his thrusts soft and swaying.

“I’m not sure I would have tried to stop you”, I breathed; moving with him; his hardness and the delicious ripples of its veins sending shivers through my body.

“It would have been a bad-mannered move of me. I did have you tied up to the bedpost”, he chuckled. I returned his laugh; and gasped as he made a single deep thrust, bottoming out in me with a groan.

“Again?”, Geralt smiled. “Yes, please...”, I said. He kissed me and our tongues met; massaging eachother - as he continued thrusting softly; and then bottomed out again. The feeling made my walls clench - and I came for the third time that night; taking us both by surprise. “Fuck!”, I yelped; making the witcher chuckle at me. “It is good I can still have this effect on you”, he said, letting my walls settle around his member - still inside me. “Are you ready for more?”.

I gasped as he thrust into me again, “Slow and sweet is still not your way. Is it, master witcher?”, I moaned into his ear. “I can go as slow or fast as you want, your majesty”, he said; dark voice almost warning me. I scratched my nails down his back, and locked my legs around his waist. “What about what you want? Why don’t you show me that?”.

He lifted his head, and looked at me warily. “Are you sure? I might hurt you…”, he said. I swallowed. “I want you to do to me, what you wanted to do that night”, I breathed.

His eyes darkened, and he put his lips to my mouth, quickly pressing his tongue between my teeth, and meeting mine. I felt a sting on my thigh, where he was digging his fingers into my skin. His thrusts became harder. “Say it”, he said. “Say you’re sure”. His pupils were blown, darkness taking over in him.

“I’m sure”, I said.

He made a groan, and pulled out of me; the sudden emptiness in my core almost painful from want. He flipped me over with a single hand on my hip; making me lay on my side, and placing himself behind me. Pulling me close to him with one hand; the other one grabbed my wrist, and placed my hand on the bedpost; closing it around the wood. He wanted me to hold on to it; as I had been tied up that night. He grabbed himself, and slid back into me; bottoming out in one thrust. I cried out from the feeling of it.

“Are you alright?”, he asked, his breath catching. “Y-yes”, I stammered. “Don’t stop”.

His arm around my torso; he held me firmly to his chest – putting his hand on my shoulder, so that I was nailed onto him. “I’m going to move now”, he said. I nodded and panted in anticipation.

With a loud groan, he pulled back; and slammed back inside of me – making me feel as if he was reaching all the way into the deepest parts of my being. He made the same move again; this time making me shiver so hard from pleasure, that my hand fell from the bedpost. Geralt grabbed it, and firmly put it back around the wood; clenching it to let me know not to let go. His hand then travelled to my neck, lightly squeezing my jugular. He moved again, slamming into me with a force I didn’t know could exist in lovemaking. My walls began to clench; as Geralts thrusts became more consistent.

His chest-hair tickled my back, making me giggle. “Something funny?”, he growled into my neck. “It tickles!”, I laughed. He continued thrusting in to my core. “This”, he said, slamming into me hard, once, “tickles?”.

I gasped loudly, and followed the sound with a loud moan. He squeezed my throat a little harder. “I’ll show you tickles”, he snarled; pulling out, and flipping me onto my stomach.

He placed both my hands on the headboard; once again making it clear that I was not to remove them from there. Putting his hands on my hips; he forcefully lifted my bottom into the air; and gave it one hand spank – making me yelp in surprise.

“Too much, little frog?”, he said, sliding his hand from my bottom, up my spine to my neck; before grabbing my hair, and turning my head to the side. He leant over my body; his still throbbing member poking at my thigh as he spoke. “I can stop any time”, he smirked; and slid a finger between my labia, tracing the shape of my entrance. I shivered; shook my head and turned it forward – holding on firmly to the headboard. “Good girl”, he whispered; before smacking my cheeks one more time, grabbing my hips; once again bottoming out inside of me. He held himself there, letting me adjust to the sensation.

Not satisfied with his lack of movement; I moved myself forward, and backed up against him again; trying to coax him to thrust. In a sudden movement, he lifted my torso against his; one hand on my breast, the other holding my throat; slightly squeezing. His hold on me was strong, both arms around me like firm logs covered by soft leather; and I melted against his broad chest. His length was still inside me, like a warm rod; forcing me to stay upright. I winced from the sudden sting of his fingers tweezing my nipple; and felt my whole body shiver as his voice rumbled from his chest. “I thought I told you before”, he said. “Don’t play with fire”. “Well, you never did punish me”, I croaked.

In an instant my hands were back on the headboard, his own hand covering them; making me lean forward again. He began thrusting hard, continuously making my whole body jolt forward each time his hips met my ass. Placing his right hand on my lower back; his thumb moved between my cheeks, probing at the ring of muscle there, intensifying the sensation of his thrusts. The muscles in my thighs were seething from the strain of holding my bottom raised. Geralt continued to thrust into me; but realizing my predicament, slid his left hand under me to hold me up – taking advantage of his finger’s closeness to my nub, to tease and rub it. He was now stimulating my entire intimate area.

I could no longer moan silently; my walls once again clenching around him from the sweet sensations of his fingers along with his brutal attack on my vagina. I began mewling loudly, accompanying the sounds of his groans each time he bottomed out.

A thundering current, pulsating to the rhythm of his thrusts, began spreading from my core, throughout my limbs. It was at once a hot and cold sensation, that made my fingers shake, until I could no longer hold on to the headboard, and fell forward; with my face into the pillow.

Suddenly it felt like I shattered. A sweet mixed sensation of pain and pleasure spread into every inch of my body. My legs began to shake, my arms and shoulders jolted – and I opened my mouth; and screamed.

Geralt did not stop. Continuously moaning and grunting, he slammed, slammed and slammed into me; almost lifting me into the air with each thrust, from the sheer force of it.

I was losing control of my limbs, and the growling beast behind me was relentless in his excavation of me - while simultaniously rubbing and teasing my most sensitive spots; to force me to continue orgasming around him - giving him pleasure, and drawing mine out.

Behind me, Geralt roared; and with a final hard thrust into me, he came undone; and fell over me – our bodies still attached. Panting, Geralt lifted the hair from the back of my neck, and kissed it gently, before rolling of me, and onto his back; sliding out of me in the process. My face was still buried in the pillow.

He slid a finger down my back. “Are you alright?”, he asked; sounding worried. I turned my face to look at him; my body still convulsing in aftershocks. I tried to nod, but it disappeared in one of the jolts.

“Y/N?”, he asked, distressed. He pulled me into his arms, stroked my cheek and removed the hair from my face. His fretful eyes searched my own. “Say something!”. “I… can’t move”, I breathed. “Did I hurt you?”, he asked. “N-no”, I stammered. “I haven’t… so much… in a long time... ever...”. I couldn’t finish my sentence.

He breathed a gasp in relief, before laughing at my expression. “I told you”, he said; and pulled me to lay across his chest. “Mhmm”, I answered, my eyelids heavy. “You did. But I wanted it. It was good”. His chest rumbled from his chuckle. “Just good?”. “Hhmmm…”, I sighed, and yawned.

He put his arms around me, and ran a hand through my hair. “Sleep now, little frog. I might want you again in the morning”.

“Hhmnn frog…”, I mumbled – and drifted off.

---

He did have me again in the morning; twice. And then one more time in the afternoon, before I waved him off from my window; his note to me, still in my hand.

Until the next journey, little frog.

---

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