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intothegenshinworld · 5 months

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Fate’s Destiny ~ Chapter 8.7 || The Acting Grand Master

You somehow, not being able to explain it, had fallen into the Genshin world you know oh-so-well. You were no new player and had explored most of the nooks and crannies of the world. When you first had woken up in Windrise you wondered; it might be a dream, after all, you were behind your screen usually, and now- here? It made no sense, and the world was keen on keeping it that way.

Warnings: Spoilers for main story.

Word count: 3.4k+

Summary chapter 8.7: Acting Grand Master Jean has a lot of responsibilities. What can she do to ensure the safety of Mondstadt?

Auteurs note: This is the last bonus chapter before CH9, I promise. This is also the last update before Christmas!! Hope you enjoy

Thanks to: all the people who showed love on the last chapter, even if it took me over a year to update the series <3 your support means the world to me

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Some time ago, in Mondstadt:

It had become an oddly frequent occurrence for the Anemo Archon to stand in Jean’s office. What's worse, she didn't know if she was the only person in the room to think so.

While she abruptly stood up from her chair, Diluc and Lisa barely acknowledged the bard. Both looked up for a moment, only to focus their attention back on whatever they were doing prior.

"Ah! Well if it isn't the beloved Knights of Favonious. You know, I would've come sooner if I could!" Venti trips as he stumbles through the door. "Ah, I'll never get used to that. Excuse me—" his tone shifts an octave higher before lowering again into an eager voice. "Where are they?"

"Who...?"

"Oh, Grand Master Jean. Of course I mean the Creator, who else would've been able to steal the winds from the Anemo Archon?"

His statement seems to catch the attention of both Lisa and Diluc, although the former was much more slick about it. With all eyes on him, Venti falls silent, looking around in a daze. It is only after he stands still that Jean notices the bottle of wine in his left hand, and the two wine glasses in his right.

"Uhm. Hello?" Venti lets out a bubbly laugh that seems unfit for the situation. "I get it, the Creator must've spooked you more then they did me, but uhm." He holds up the items in his hands. "We got loooots of stuff to catch up on, and I'd rather start sooner than later if I want to wrap up the events pertaining to the last five centuries."

"The Creator…?" Jean hesitantly looks at Diluc and Lisa. She's not sure if she's seeking confirmation more than forgiveness.

Please, for the love of the Archons, please let the imposter not turn out to be the True One.

Venti raises an eyebrow, scanning the room from Jean to Diluc, to Lisa, and back to Diluc, until finally settling on Jean. “Uh, yeah? Did you not welcome them? I can practically feel their energy overflowing this space."

He gestures with the wine bottle around the room, and Jean is certain she'll have a heart attack any minute now.

"The... Creator."

She plops down into the chair, a gesture of defeat, silently resigning herself to the idea that the real deal had been right in front of her this whole time, and heavily regretting how she considered locking them up. As the Acting Grand Master this is bound to cause the reputation of Mondstadt to fall, not to mention her own betrayal towards the Creator of everything.

Venti purses his lips as he watches Jean. he shifts his weight from leg to leg, "Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good."

Diluc (praise his soul) helps to divert the attention from Jean when he speaks up, "You mean, Kaeya was right?" He sounds annoyed and bewildered, "That can't be. Surely the real-"

Diluc stops when his eyes land on the somewhat silly looking Archon. He remembers that he never suspected the Anemo Archon to be drinking in his own tavern prior to the Dvalin fallout. So perhaps if an Archon can mingle with their people unnoticed, the Creator could–in theory, too.

Diluc gestures somewhat difficulty into the air. "Well."

"Well? " Venti mimics him.

"It's a difficult situation," the redhead grunts out, flustered by the fast paced conversation and information thrown at his head. Diluc crosses his arms as a scowl settles on his face.

Venti huffs. "More difficult than dealing with the abyss order and Dvalin when he was corrupted?" he turns around in his place, "surely it can't be that bad. I've only been away for half a week—and I would've been faster if our beloved Creator gave me a notice." He lets out a cheeky laugh accompanied by a wink and plops down into the chair across from Jean. He then carelessly drops the two glasses and wine bottle onto the surface of the desk separating them both. Jean now realizes that the extra glass was meant for the Creator.

The Creator of Teyvat, the one she had thought to be an imposter and nearly banished from Mondstadt.

She pulls her fingers through her hair and faintly prays, "Dear Barbatos–"

"Oh? You're ready to talk now?" Venti responds as he makes himself more comfortable in the chair. While everyone else seemed tense, he appeared unbothered by the whole ordeal. Probably, because he still believed the Creator to be around. Would he understand Jean’s misunderstanding if she told him what had occurred?

Lisa’s voice chimes over her doom-filled thoughts. "Give her a moment. It's safe to say we're all catching up to the fact that the ‘imposter’ turned out to be the True One."

Venti furrows his eyebrows. "Huh." New information seems to solve a riddle in his mind. When he speaks next, it's more to himself then anyone else, "I suppose that'd make sense why I'm not able to pinpoint their aura." He then speaks to Jean, “So what did you do?”

It wasn’t a question filled with judgement towards her. The tone of his voice was bubbly, as always, and filled with genuine curiosity—though, Jean could feel the concern rise in his words.

“I am not certain what happened before they reached Mondstadt,” she starts to pile the events in her mind and decides to soften the blow, “–but, ‘the Creator’ seemingly appeared out of no where at the gates. No one, aside from Kaeya and Albedo, were able to sense their aura. If the two tell the truth, Kaeya sent the Creator to Dragonspine when chaos began to rise within the headquarters, and only a day later, the Creator disappeared without a trace once more.”

Diluc adds to her story, “When I spoke with Eula and Kaeya, they believed they had seen a second Albedo before the Creator disappeared.” He hesitates for a moment, “Could this be related? Or could everything be explained with malfunctioning ley lines?”

Jean watches as Venti taps his fingers against the armrest. He slings his legs up and down and nods to himself. “This is certainly a first for me as well. Sure, the Creator has some magnificent powers, but I still can’t explain why they’d appear so suddenly, not to mention the strange events surrounding their descent.”

He opens his eyes and stares into the window behind Jean. There is an odd expression on his face, one that she can’t read.

Venti's next words are once again in a bubbly tone, the earlier melancholy washed away by newfound determination. “Seems like it’s our task to uncover what exactly is going on!” Venti jumps up and reaches for the wine bottle and glasses. “One thing I’m sure of is that you met the real Creator. Now, we just need to find out where they disappeared to.”

Diluc mutters in a tired tone, “That sounds easier said than done.”

Venti shrugs. “Last time we teamed up, we solved the mystery of Dvalin. I’m confident we’ll solve this mystery as well! In the meantime, I’ll be pulling my own strings. If I happen to find a clue, you’re the first ones to know.”

He winks at Jean, and the stress morphs into resolve. It’s awfully frustrating to have all these events happen without her ever being present. All the clues she has, are told by other people. If she wanted to find the Creator, she will have to rely on the other people in this room.

When the Archon leaves with a wave, she sends a small one back.

“So.” Diluc crosses his arms, “What are you going to do?”

Jean averts her eyes before she finds his gaze again. “We cannot ask Kaeya for help. At least not while he’s recovering.”

From the short distance in the room, Jean hears Diluc release a frustrated sigh. “I’ll try to ask my own contacts and see if they’ve seen anything out of the ordinary. However, I believe it’s best to keep this between us three.”Diluc rubs his temple. “If this information falls into the wrong hands, who knows what they’ll do. The Creator has been gone for five centuries. Whatever is happening now, it can’t be good.”

In the corner of her eye, Jean sees Lisa nod in agreement. She, too, agrees with Diluc. Jean nods. “Then we’ll wait for your return.” When the brunette faces turns her head, Jean speaks directly to her. “Can you keep an eye on Kaeya for now? I don’t think he’ll do anything to our disadvantage, but I have a feeling he won’t give up on finding the Creator once he’s better.”

“Of course.”

Lisa lets out a warm chuckle, a sound that suggests she's concealing her own thoughts and opinions on the matter—something she’ll likely share once Diluc has left.

“Alright then.” Diluc purses his lips and gives Jean a firm nod. “I’ll keep in touch.”

“Be safe, Master Diluc.” Jean calls out to him as he closes the door. Although the situation is less than comfortable, she feels safer knowing she can trust on the people around her.

And so, she waits—until one of her three confidants have found a lead.

When Jean received a letter from Diluc only a day later with an urgent request to meet up, Jean felt her life shatter at her feet. Time seemed to pass antagonisingly slow as she waited for Diluc. In the end, it took only a few hours for him to arrive at her office—it really hadn’t made sense for her to worry as much as she did. Still, the urgency he noted in his letter made her feel off about the whole meeting.

Diluc never sits down in the chair across from Jean. A habit, or perhaps he felt too awkward, and considering he had a past with the Knights of Favonius—the latter made more sense. Either way, Jean is forced to follow his pacing form shift around the room. Without Lisa, the atmosphere between the two was more relaxed, and Diluc is able to speak more freely.

“I’m planning on visiting Liyue myself. Because of the wine industry, I could enter the city on business terms even with the lockdown.” Diluc speaks his thoughts out loud, and the words are said as a statement. He never directly asks for Jean’s opinion or her approval, which he doesn’t need, but it still makes her feel out of control.

Jean clears her throat as subtly as she can before easing into the one sided conversation of Diluc which started after he told her about Rex Lapis' passing. “Why don’t you take one of the Knights?“

She would have offered to go herself, but with her title, she was bound to Mondstadt. She watches Diluc abruptly stop as she pulls him out of his train of thoughts. His eyes sharpen for a moment, eyebrows lowering, and his mouth opens before quickly changing his mind and relaxing when his eyes meet hers.

He hangs his head low and sighs. “I’d rather not.“

“Diluc,“ He looks up when she calls out his name, “I don’t doubt your strengths, but with the return of the Creator and the death of an Archon, this problem might be beyond our own limits. We should not act hastily.”

His face sours again. “You’re right, and it’s exactly why I won’t let some rookie Knight waddle into Liyue without any knowledge of what’s happening. Whoever you’re thinking of sending, he’ll only burden me.”

Jean purses her lips together, not missing the words he chose. Even without communicating, the two had been thinking about the same person.

He speaks again, “I need you to stay here and keep watch of Mondstadt while I’m gone. I’ll be leaving in a few days after I’ve gotten everything in order.” He crosses his arms, eyes softening despite the serious expression on his face, “I will contact you if I know more.”

Hopeless and without power, she watches Diluc exit as fiercely as he had entered her office. Nowadays, it seemed common for him to stir fires and leave as he unknowingly lets them fester into an inferno.

It had seemed so easy and petty to send her own battalion of Knights while Diluc was still preparing for the trip, but she knew he was right. Only a few people were suited to go to Liyue, and Diluc was one of the two.

The warm steam of the tea in front of Jean swirls upwards and around the room, spreading a soft floral scent that relaxes her despite the stress that she should be feeling. Lisa, who sits across from her, smiles as she watches the tension elevate from Jean’s shoulders. While it wasn’t uncommon for her to bring in tea for the Acting Grand Master, it was uncommon for Jean to nearly doze off in the comfort.

“Oh dear,” Lisa puts her hand in front of her mouth in a cheeky motion, “If anyone were to enter they’d surely think we’d be slacking off.”

A frustrated sigh escapes Jean’s lips and the tension returns to her body. “I doubt anyone would. They’re all still in the belief of the era of peace. The worst reports I’ve been getting as of late consist of inebriated citizens making too much noise after dark or cats being stuck on roofs.”

Lisa can’t help the chuckle escape her lips. Sometimes it felt like she enjoyed seeing people twist and turn in discomfort, but Jean knew better.

“Have you gotten any news on Kaeya?”

The brunette brings her teacup to her lips before setting it down again. “It’s hard to tell what he is actually thinking, but he seems to be back to normal. Earlier today, I saw him enter Angel’s Share.”

“What…?” Jean sits upright and raises an eyebrow. “This early? Isn’t he supposed to patrol until the evening? Has anyone taken over his shift?”

Calm and collected as always, Lisa pushes the porcelain cup in Jean’s direction, a silent reminder for her to relax once more. “It’ll be alright. The abyss order is no longer a problem, and we shouldn’t act like there is one either.” She tilts her head, and a strand of brown hair falls onto her cheek, “For the people it is important to see the Grand Master at ease.”

“Acting— ” Jean mutters out, “Acting Grand Master.”

The tea in front of her has cooled down to a comfortable temperature, and she brings it up to her lips. It had been a couple of days since she had gotten proper sleep and regular meals. Perhaps Lisa had been right, but with Diluc leaving the city tomorrow, she continues to feel restless.

With only Lisa in the room, Jean lets her body slack in the chair. Papers that were due had been pushed to the corners of her desk, making place for the two, now empty, cups of tea. There was so much to do, but everything felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

These moments of silence are the only thing keeping her sane, and she appreciates how Lisa seems to gift it to her every day. If the world were more forgiving, it’d given her more time to rest, alas everyone seems to enter her office in a whirlwind nowadays.

As the door is slammed open, Jean fumbles to make herself look presentable.

Out of all people...

“Kaeya?!”

The Cavalry Captain skips any greeting and goes straight to the point as he closes the door behind him. “I have some valuable information.” He walks closer, standing upright next to Lisa, who seems too immersed in her book to acknowledge him. He continues, “I know it might seem like a false rumor, useless gossip—if you may,” His voice falters for a second, his smile falling before reappearing, “but if the news is true, it’d give us an edge.”

Lisa continues to hold her book up, but Jean can see how her eyes have moved up. While she appears unbothered, she is most certainly curious about this tidbit.

Jean watches him carefully. “What news?”

He leans in closer, his voice lower, careful. “Some Fatui were talking about the passing of the Geo Archon.”

From the inside, Jean feels a wave of relief washes over her. When he had entered the room in such an unsuspecting way, she had expected yet another big problem to be shoved into her lap.

She crosses her legs and inhales sharply as she looks up at him. “We know.”

“You know?” His expression turns into genuine shock, something many people will never see on Kaeya’s face.

From the corner of Jean’s eye, she can see Lisa resist a chuckle. “I assume you didn’t get this information from the streets? Say, what were you doing in Angel’s share during work hours?” Her forest green eyes move up to him and he dramatically puts a hand on his hip.

“Gathering intel, as you heard. Though, it seems to be old intel for you.”

Kaeya leans his hand onto Lisa’s chair before he shifts his weight once more. He tries to hide it, but with the confirmation of the intel being true, he is filled with more questions than answers. And instead of asking any, he dances around it.

“I know you don’t believe me, really, I don’t blame you.” He stops for a moment, putting his hand on his chest, “But now with the death of Rex Lapis? Something must be wrong.”

Jean remembers that he still believes that he and Albedo are the only ones to feel the Creator’s aura, and thus their identity. If he hadn’t acted on his own earlier—had he known about Venti—she might’ve told him.

Before she can do anything, Lisa swiftly acts out and calls out her name. Jean hums, listening to what follows, “Perhaps it would be time to send a diplomat to assess the situation in Liyue,” and the reasoning she gives afterward forces Jean into a corner.

Kaeya, too, joins in to further pressure her. It is after Lisa continues to push Jean, suggesting to send him, that she finally gives in—hoping her beloved librarian has more than an impulse in mind.

“Okay,” Jean watches Kaeya’s eye brighten, “but you need to take Diluc with you.”

The smile on his face falters. ”Diluc, really?”

”He was the one who told me about Liyue’s predicament, and he is more than capable of handling situations like these.”

Perhaps Lisa made the right move to push her in this direction. She still felt unsettled with Diluc leaving on his own. If Kaeya were to go with him, he’d be prevented from doing anything reckless by himself, and in return, Diluc would keep an close eye on Kaeya.

While it might seem like a punishment to both, it would’ve been the best course of action for Jean. She watches as Kaeya starts to give in, uttering a ‘fine’ in agreement.

With a lighter feeling in her chest knowing Diluc would at least not be alone, she asks Kaeya to keep contact, just like Diluc would. If she couldn’t investigate herself, she would have to rely on others, and two had been better than one in this case.

When Kaeya finally shuts the door, Jean looks back at Lisa who moves back into the chair across from her. When her bright eyes meet Jean, she is sent a warm smile. It is supposed to ease her, but doubt eventually settles in her mind regardless.

“Did you really think it was wise to send him?” Jean hopes for a simple ‘yes’ in reply.

The librarian leans back into the chair, crossing her legs comfortably once she’s settled, and calmly sighing. “If he stays here, he’ll pry until he figures it out.” Lisa turns a finger in the air. “And I do believe Diluc would keep a close eye on him for us.”

Jean sighs. “Still…”

If there was something wrong, would Kaeya suffice with Diluc?

“Don’t worry so much,” Lisa places her hand over Jean’s. “We’ll figure out what’s going on.”

When a soft breeze enters her office, Jean is reminded of someone.

“Have you heard anything of Venti?” Lisa asks.

She shakes her head. “If what he said about his power still counts, it might take a while.”

If she thought too much about it, it seemed as if the world itself was trying to prevent its people from finding out what was true and what was not.

“Should I brew some more tea?” Lisa asks at last.

Jean nods, her previous thoughts forgotten in the wind.

#sagau #sagau x reader #isegau #genshin impact x reader #jean gunnhildr #lisa minci #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #venti #I don't need more tags we can mvp this

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

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The Vessel [ Pt. 9 ]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader

Summary: Geralt confronts Yennefer, and a massive argument leads to something massive, that even Yennefer cannot control. And neither can you. Or Geralt.

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

"YENNEFER? YEN!"

Geralt's voice rang through the quiet hallways until the sorceress finally stepped out of her chambers, frowning.

"Geralt—"

She gasped, freezing when she saw him looking at her with a look that was far from the love that she had always seen in his eyes for her. Her eyes flicked from him to you, and you pressed yourself against the wall, although you kept looking at her with rage filled eyes.

"You used me. And I fucking let you." His voice was low, dark— mediating between a growl and a warning.

"My love, what—"

"ENOUGH, Yennefer. Tissaia de Vries told her everything. Funny I happened to be around when she did," he growled.

"And you really believed the lies that woman fed you with? Really Geralt? You would take her words over me?" She hissed back, venom lurking through her dark eyes as she took a step closer. You could see that Yennefer was shaking, and your nearest guess was, that it was with rage.

"Yennefer—" Geralt began, but she cut him off.

"What did she say? She must have cooked up lies on how this whore is a Cintran Princess."

"You couldn't have made it up, Yennefer."

"I thought you loved me. I thought I was important to you. Now you are being poisoned by that witch, knowing what she did to me—"

"Yennefer, enough," Geralt grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her towards himself, so her face was now inches away from his.

"I told you, I wouldn't be here to catch you fall."

"Geralt, they are poisoning your minds. Look at her—" She turned towards you with hate filled eyes, hot tears leaking from them, "She can never be a Princess."

The sides of his lips tugged upwards as he shot you a quick glance, and then turned back to her.

"I would rather believe the lies they feed me then, than trust you again."

With those words, Geralt pushed Yennefer away and turned his back towards her, his face now towards you. It was only as he had finally started walking towards you, that Yennefer threw back her head and began laughing. It started as a chuckle first, a maniacal, evil chuckle, until she was clutching her stomach and laughing.

"What are you going to do about it, Geralt of Rivia? You're weak. You let yourself be manipulated by me, you fell in love with me and gave up almost everything. Now, what will you do exactly? Leave?"

She hiccuped, her voice dark and malicious, as she mumbled them between her uncontrollable laughter. Geralt's fists clenched, his body going rigid as he slowly turned, looking her in the eye.

"It's over, Yennefer."

"No, it's not. And you—" She turned towards you, taking a step towards you, but Geralt pushed himself between you and her, placing his thick hand on her shoulder to keep her away from you, "You think you've won? You don't know what Yennefer of Vengerberg is capable of." She snapped her neck towards Geralt, craning her neck slightly, so her lips were hovering over his, but he didn't move, as she whispered, "You two will run away. Raise that baby? And Yennefer won't find you?"

"That's the plan, Yen— if you don't already know." Geralt grunted, but stayed where he was.

"Well, then.. go?" She smiled and stepped away, throwing her hands in the air.

You didn't know when Jaskier had sneaked up next to you, but you were now thankful he was there. He took your hand in his, his fingers coiling around yours, entwining your hands.

"She can't mean it, can she?" You whispered, bit all you received in return was silence.

"Leave before I change my mind." She screamed, causing you to flinch, and instinctively jump backwards.

Geralt, in that split second, turned towards you, and your eyes met his. He nodded. You swallowed, pleading with him with your eyes and he softened. You watched as he parted his lips, mouthing the word 'go', and you turned towards Jaskier.

"Jaskier. We need to leave. Now."

"But Geralt—" Jaskier asked, as you pulled his hand and began dragging him towards the main door.

"Just.. Geralt will figure something out. I know it."

The two of you dashed towards the door, until suddenly a sudden thrust hit you hard against your back, and you flew off, your back hitting the wall as you crashed against the floor on one end, while Jaskier flew off to the right. Yennefer smirked, her hands held against her chest, a ball of air revolving around her fingers.

Geralt growled like a wounded animal, his hand finally gripping his sword, as he pounced on her, like a hungry predator. Instead of using the sword, he twisted the sword, hitting Yennefer against her temple with the hilt of the sword, disbalancing her and knocking her off as she fell to her side.She snarled, grabbing Geralt's foot, pulling him slightly until cracks appeared underneath his feet and roots started creeping against his legs, coiling around them, freezing him to where he was.

He muttered a curse under his breath, and using his fingers, he drew a sign in the air, and a sudden blast of telekinetic energy hit the creepers, freeing him of his captivity.

"I can't believe this is how it ends, Yen, but it will," Geralt muttered, in a voice so low, only Yennefer could hear it.

You groaned, blinking, confused and dazed as you fluttered your eyes open. The back of your head was stinging as you sat back up, your hand immediately flowing to your head. Suddenly, you were reminded of Yennefer, and you immediately gasped, your head sharply turning towards where Yennefer and Geralt were, fighting each other. Biting your lip, you crawled to where Jaskier was laying unconscious, keeping your head low so she wouldn't spot you.

"Jaskier," you hissed, slapping him lightly across his face, your head ducked so the sorceress wouldn't be able to see that you are awake, "Jas' wake up. Wake up Jaskier."

"Where... the..fuck am I? Am I dead? Am I in.. heaven?" Jaskier mumbled barely incoherent words as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Na, not so lucky. Now wake up, we need to find a way to get out of here. Geralt can stall her, but he cannot fight her—" Your words were interrupted when Geralt crashed on his back just inches away from where you and Jaskier were, and the two of you looked from each other to him. Geralt groaned slightly, but conscious as he lifted his head up, and his eyes met yours. His eyes softened when he saw that you were okay, the firmness of his eyes melting away.

"Go," he grunted, as he pushed himself up again, his fingers moving as he conjured up another sign, but his eyes were on you.

You pursed your lips together and looked at Jaskier and then at Geralt, shaking your head, "Not without you, Geralt." Jaskier smiled, Geralt kept looking at you, his expressions not betraying exactly how he was feeling right now when Yennefer's bellowing laughter started ringing into your ears. You turned around to see her standing fifteen steps away from you, smiling.

"Had a nice sleep, pet?" She hissed.

Then everything happened in slow motion. You watched her lips and her hands move, and a blast of white light dashed towards you. You could hear it in the back of your head; Geralt screaming, running towards you, trying to conjure up a sign to save you but the momentum and the strength of the sorceress' attack was no match for him.

You didn't know why, but you began gripping the fabric of your tunic, your fingers curling around it. You opened your mouth— a scream, like death, blasted out from the crevice of your throat, shrill and loud. Cracks appeared on the walls around you, the vessels beginning to shake. Just when the blast Yennefer had sent your way was close enough to hit you, the two pillars that stood on the either side of the room fell, landing in front of you, acting as a barrier to stop the force from touching you.

The room was engulfed in dust the second the pillars fell, and you let go off the fabrics you were holding, immediately jumping backwards, running towards Geralt. He wrapped an arm around your waist the minute you reached him, and then turned to look at the rubble that had formed, looking from it to you, "Fuck." He exclaimed, looking at you.

He, however recovered from it faster than Jaskier could who was still gaping at you, wide mouthed. Geralt took this minute when Yennefer was distracted, seething in rage when she had seen just what you had done. Grabbing your arm, he pulled you backwards, dragging you towards the door.

"You two leave."

"And you?" You snapped, pulling your arm away and got a growl from him in retaliation.

"[Y/N]—" the bard intervened, grabbing your other arm, which was hilarious. It was like you were a commodity suddenly. One dropped you and other lifted you up, "Now is not the best time to argue. Geralt can take care of himself but we should get out while we can. You're a pregnant ball of magic that doesn't know how to control it."

"A ball of magic?" You glared at him.

"Fuck, you two. Will you leave?" Geralt growled, intercepting the two of you. When you turned towards him, you realized that while you were bantering with the bard, Geralt had formed a defensive sign around the three of you. It was holding against Yennefer's spell of lightning, but for how long?

"I'm not leaving you. We are leaving, together." You announced.

You just realized something. Yennefer had Geralt's heart, whether you liked or not. He wouldn't be able to kill her, even if he knew he could. He was just buying you time to escape. But you also realized, Geralt had your heart, and you couldn't leave him behind.

"Fucks sake, I can't hold it any longer, why won't you leave—" Geralt barked, and you looked at him, an idea suddenly striking you.

"What if we can all leave? I think I have an idea."

"It better be good." Geralt grunted, still struggling to hold his sheild.

"Remember what Yen said about the Great Mount? No Mage is powerful enough to create a portal to that place. But, I am not a mage." You smiled.

"But [Y/N], you are not strong enough," Jaskier protested.

"We have to try, Jaskier. That's our only way for all three of us to leave. For now. Geralt, hold on for a few seconds longer, I can do this."

A look passed between you and Geralt. He just glared at you, not agreeing per se with the action plan that you had come out with, but he didn't have a plan of his own, except to stall the sorceress. He pursed his lips and nodded, finally parting his lips as words shot out of his mouth, "Fine.. just... don't get hurt."

You nodded and fluttered your eyes close, concentrating on that one black spot in front of your eyelids. A few seconds passed, and nothing happened, your fingers twitching with impatience. You could hear Jaskier mumble, "Geralt, I don't think it's working. We're gonna die by your lover's hands if you don't do something."

You snarled angrily, clenching your eyes shut, focusing all your energy on that spot when the sounds started growing distance and your mind started blocking out the sounds. Your breathing piked up, and you were practically panting; gasping for air when you finally saw it in front of your eyes — the Great Mount. It stood tall, just like you remembered it from earlier.

"Jaskier, bring her back!" Geralt snarled, screaming and struggling when suddenly his spell broke, and the three of you were flung into the air by the force of Yennefer's spell. You kept laying there twitching and convulsing, foam shooting out of your mouth but all you could see in your mind now was the Great Mount.

Suddenly, a portal appeared in front of you, and Yennefer screamed at the sight of it, for the portal wasn't a normal portal she had ever used. This was only something she had heard in stories, and had never seen anything like it. It was a portal that could only be used by the elven mages; better known as the sages. Yennefer realized, blood draining out of her face, if you could conjure up a portal like this, you could bring down her magic with the blink of an eye, if you got full control over your power.

"Hurry!" You screamed, and the three of you pushed yourself up; before you began running towards the portal, without taking a look back. You ignored Yennefer's scream, and the powerful blast of fire that she released because the instant you stepped into the portal, the portal closed, blocking Yennefer out and the three of you landed on your backs on a muddy ground.

You could hear Jaskier groaning someplace next to you, and you could hear Geralt grunt, but louder than that was the piercing ringing in your ears. You kept laying on the cold ground, staring at the sky, your body feeling like it had been run over by a massive elephant, until you felt Geralt; saw Geralt leaning over you, trying to revive you, his fingers patting over your cheeks.

"Wake up. Wake up, fuck."

You blinked, taking a deep breath as you abruptly sat up, all of it coming to you slowly, your brain still clogged due to the immense pain that you were feeling everywhere but your stomach.

"Geralt— the baby."

Geralt's eyes constricted, as his eyes fell to your belly, and without hesitating, his palm flew to your bump, as he placed it on your stomach and began feeling around, listening for a heartbeat.

You kept watching, breathing heavy, biting your lip, trying to control the tears that were forming in your eyes.

What if you had lost the baby? What if —

"Our baby is okay."

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, whispering, your voice low, "Our?"

The last you remembered, Geralt had only smiled when he was with her. But you couldn't keep your tears in line, when you saw his lips curve into the tiniest of smiles upon hearing your innocent question. He didn't reply; but instead, he removed his hand from your stomach, placing it on your cheek, for just a split second, his thumb stroking slightly over your skin.

"Hm."

Geralt's touch lingered against your cheek for a second longer, and it felt like your skin was on fire. When he removed it though, it was like ice, cold and stinging. You watched him, with a giddy smile on your face as he stood up, and threw out his palm towards you. You slowly reached out, placing your palm in his as he pulled you up.

"Now what, Witcher?" You whispered, staring into his golden orbs, and he kept staring back at you. But you didn't know why his eyes felt different altogether. It was like he was seeing you, for you and not for a woman who was just carrying his baby.

"We go to Cintra."

You smiled, and looked down at your feet before lifting your gaze and looking back at him, before an amused look crossed your eyes.

"What?" He mumbled, his broody voice back again.

"Starving, Geralt." You explained, rubbing your palm over your belly. His eyes followed your movements, his lips twitching as he nodded.

"I'll see if I can find something to hunt around here, before we leave."

Geralt slowly turned away, and you watched as he began walking towards the shrubbery, when Jaskier cleared his throat, rather loudly, and you realized you weren't alone, "What?" You said, feigning innocence.

"Would the two of you just declare your love for each other already? It's getting obnoxious watching the two of you strip each other with just your eyes." He winked, his eyes twinkling as he began teasing you, and you couldn't help but flush at his words.

"There's nothing between us, Jaskier." You shrugged, rubbing your hands together, wincing slightly as you tried to move your shoulder and Jaskier frowned, eyeing you carefully, but you gave him a ghost of a smile, signalling him that you were okay.

"I'm not blind. And neither am I a eunuch."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You gasped hitting him in the arm.

"Well I mean, only a blind cannot see the effect that you are having on my broody friend, [Y/N]."

"Stop being dramatic, Jas'—" You turned away intentionally, not wanting to indulge in this specific topic of conversation with him. Instead, you slowly began walking around, and trying to pass your time until Geralt was back so you didn't have to answer Jaskier anymore or think about what he had said.

Geralt didn't really feel anything for you. Jaskier wasn't right this time. Right?

An owl hooted somewhere around; embers sizzles from the fire that heated up the three of you as you sat around it, letting the warmth seep through your bones. It was like a healing. You watched, as you dug your teeth into the roasted rabbit leg, taking a chunky bite of the meat, hunger making your tummy rumble uncontrollably; you kept staring at Geralt, who was eating too.

Suddenly, Geralt looked at you— the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk— he had seen you stare. You turned away, flustered, heat pooled up inside you.

You cleared your throat awkwardly and began staring at the sky, the trees and anything that wasn't the white haired Witcher smirking teasingly at you.

"We will leave for Cintra at dawn. Although—" Geralt began speaking, and you turned to look at him, "Yen cannot open a portal to the Great Mount, she can open a portal to the city nearest, which is a day's distance from here."

"You think she is already on her way?" You cocked your eyebrow, ignoring Jaskier chewing on the roasted rabbit shamelessly next to you.

"Nothing's gonna stop her. She will follow us to the end of the world just to get what she wants."

"I would be surprised if she didn't," you exhaled as you slowly stood up, your shoulder still sore after having taken that bad fall on your back twice.

"[Y/N], rest," Geralt stated, and it sounded more like a command. When you looked at him, he was arching forward, both his elbows resting on his knees, his legs spread out, his palms together. The fire illuminated his face, highlighting his handsome features.

You lowered yourself by a tree, wincing slightly when your shoulder brushed against the tree bark; a hiss escaping your pursed lips, through your teeth. Geralt's Witcher sense of hearing picked up on your hiss, and he cocked his neck towards you, carefully noticing the way you were slightly tense around the upper body. You watched as he stood up and with big steps, reached where you were, instantly kneeling down next to you.

"Show me."

"What?" You mumbled.

Geralt grunted in annoyance, "You're hurt."

"Geralt, I'm fine, really, it's nothing," you absentmindedly replied him, exhaustion and pain making you feel weak.

A growl arose from somewhere inside the White Wolf's chest— it was animalistic; more like a wounded animal's warning snarl— desperate. He suddenly reached out, placing his hand on your shoulder and you winced in pain. It wasn't the pain, however that bothered you.

But, rather the inappropriate thoughts building up in your mind. You were at the same place yet again, the place where you had conceived your child with Geralt, and so was he. A lot had changed since then, but the feelings had only flared.

Your eyes clenched shut as you felt Geralt's warm fingers brush against your neck as his fingers hooked to the neck of your dirty dress.

Geralt pressed his lips shut when he looked at you like this— cowered under his touch— not in fear, for you could have stopped him anytime. Or could you? Geralt doubted suddenly if he could himself bring him to stop, when his fingers were brushing against your alarmingly cold skin, skin that felt like butter underneath his touch. He suddenly felt intoxicated, his insides flaring up and a sudden, raw hunger built up in him. He wanted to feel more of your skin underneath his fingers, brush his index over the curves of your body, caress you and make you feel better.

He flicked his eyes shut, mentally cursing himself for thinking that way about you.

But it was hard to resist; more so when he could practically see you melting in his touch.

Slowly, he lowered your dress, down your shoulder, grunting under his breath as he noticed the sudden rise of your chest as you took a sharp breath.

You were making this difficult for him.

His eyes fell on your shoulder— a massive bruise had already formed, turning bluish purple and he frowned, leaning closer so he could look at it better.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He looked from the bruise to your face, right into your eyes and you took in his words, slowly craning your neck over your shoulder to see what he was looking at. You knew you were hurt, but you hadn't realized it was that bad.

"I .. didn't realize." You whispered, watching his frown widen as his fingers pulled away, leaving a void inside you that threatened to flare.

"Wait." That was all Geralt said before he stood up, and walked away, his eyes lowered to the sides where the shrubs stood, looking for something.

About ten minutes later, you saw him returning, but he had a few herbs in his hands. You kept looking at him questioningly as he knelt down next to you and began crushing the herbs between his thick, beefy palms, as he didn't have a mortar and pestle on him.

"May I?"

You nodded, biting your lip as you let the Witcher apply the thick paste over your bruise. It stung, but you clenched your eyes shut, taking a deep breath, cursing lightly under your breath, and Geralt swore he felt something inside him— a guilt, or perhaps, an inexplicable feeling of seeing you in pain.

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#geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia works #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher #henry cavill

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kays-various-stuff · 3 years

Text

Because I have nothing better to do, here are some of my ideas for genshin impact storys.

And because I was fucking bored, here are some boards for it too!

These are my ideas, pls don't use them. Thank you.

TW: faking death

Kaeya

AU: none/normal

Summery:

The head of the armory of the knights of favonius, a strong and confident woman, knows nothing about emotions.

Nor how to express them really.

Nothing wrong with that, she tries her hardest and everybody knows, but when a certain knight develops a huge soft spot for her and shamelessly flirts with her at any given chance, things can get... heated.

Especially, if this knight gains her trust and discovers the truth about her "manly" behavior.

About her lack of "femininity" and the reason behind it.

Of course he tried his best to help her find her femininity, but with this he made his beloved workmate slowly fall for him and his soft side, nobody saw but her.

With the help of friends, the knight tried everything possible to confess, but always failed.

Until one evening, where he saw his chance.

The knights planed holding a ball for everyone on Mondstadt.

With all of his courage, our loverboy asked his love if he would want to go there with him, letting him receive the answer "Only, if the first and last dance are mine." .

Diluc

AU: none/normal

Summery:

On a stormy, rainy night, a homeless bard searched for a place, she could spend the night at.

By doing so, she came across the dawn winery, asked politely if she could wait there until the storm would go away and she could continue her way to the next city.

This catched the attention of the owner of said winery and made him offer a room for the night and a warm meal.

An old rule said, that you should treat a bard with respect and act like he was a close friend of yours so you would never end up in one of his stories afterall.

Not knowing the two would meet again, the bard accepted his offer, spend the night there and made her way to Mondstadt, where she not only went around the city by daytime, she also searched for a tavern, she could play at, which made her go the the "Angels Share", not knowing she knows the owner, ho just happens to be there this evening.

So when she sat down and ordered something non-alcoholic, the redhaired man started a converstation with the bard and made up a deal with her, after getting to know her situation.

She was allowed to play at his tavern every evening, gets a warm breakfast and dinner and a room to sleep in in the winery, but 30% of her earned mora would wander in his pockets.

And, after being in her company for a while, he started to develop smaller feelings for the bard, that just so happens to have a little something for him too.

So of course, she would write songs in which he was included or songs, about a "handsome gentleman, saving one's heart".

Little did Diluc know, he was the one in her songs.

Zhongli

AU: none/normal

Sumery:

The former god of dust, Guizhong and Morax best friend, never died.

She rather faked her death, because of something, she could've never told Morax.

So of course, she kept being in the shadows, never doing anything that would draw too much attention on her.

Taking a break from her journey across the world, she admired the beauty of Liyue and watched the sunset of her new favourite city, while a girl walked up to her and asked for the time, only to see one of her almost vanished memories again.

Morax, now as a handsome, tall man that looked maybe a little too similar to the way he used to look.

Of course he knew who the woman, talking to his boss, was after one second.

How could he forget his best friends eyes? Afterall, they were unique and no one else had them but her.

Even after she told him, she doesn't know him, he followed her and eventually got what he wanted.

His best friend, now only a shadow of what she remembered.

Her bright smile, which made everyone smile around her, was gone.

The sparkle in her eyes, when he looked into them, was gone.

Of course, she was the former god of dust but... she had changed.

Wanting answers, Zhongli revealed who he was, making his former best friend reveal her true identity and yet keeping her biggest secret.

She had been in love with her best friend for over 5.000 years and couldn't stand the thought of "only" being his "friend", so she faked her death and ran away, hoping she would forget about him.

And it worked. Until now, where all her burried feelings started to bloom again and she fell even hareder for him.

Tartaglia/Childe

AU: Royal

Summery:

The princess of Mondstadt was one of the the most desirable, still awarded ladies in all of the seven nations.

But under the control of the knights of favonius and her parents, she saw no other way then running away and leaving her kingdom, with the help of two knights, she trusted more than anyone else.

Kaeya Alberich and little Klee.

On her journey through the nations, she came across Liyue and went to the nearest tavern, hoping no one would realise who she was.

After all, she was a princess, but now with the nickname "The princess of runaway".

Not knowing who she would meet there, she sat down on the next free table, causing a certain other knight to catch his attention.

Without thinking too much, the ginger walked up to her, offered her a drink and began to chat with her, making her fall for the handsome stranger.

And with this, the beautiful story of two strangers, who would've never met, helping each other with small things and learning with every day passing more about the other, started to feel more than just simple friendship.

Soon enough, they started having a even more beautiful romance and it began to grow and bloom.

But surely enough, they kept everything a secret, after finding out about each others true identity.

Afterall, neither of them wanted their love to find an end soon because of their fates.

He, one of the mightiest knights of the fatui from Snezhnaya.

And she, the princess of Mondstadt, that ran away because she wanted to experience true love and marry a random man.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact childe

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crimsonrae · 4 years

Text

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Eight

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Small Avoidances

"Is there a reason why we're traipsing through the woods?" Jaskier questioned for the thousandth time, "I thought you killed whatever was tracking us."

"I did." Geralt grunted as he retraced his path to the fleder's corpses.

The bard frowned as he barely sidestepped a mess of brambles, "Then why are we out here?"

"You didn't have to come." The witcher rumbled in response as he eyed the ground. His steps were still very much present in the dirt, even after almost a week and it made him wonder just how out of it, he had been from the attack. He knew better than to leave a trail.

"Yeah, I'm sure that would go over well." Jaskier drawled as he narrowly dodged a branch swinging back in his face, "All I need is for you to suddenly be attacked out here and try and crawl your way back. It was a debacle getting you into the cottage the first time and you were merely down the lane then. Can only imagine what carting your heavy ass from the woods would be like."

Geralt glared wearily at him over his shoulder, "And here I thought you were going to pester me about your girlfriend."

The bard went unusually silent as he stared at Geralt's back before uttering a faint, "She's not my girlfriend."

The look of disbelief he received in return was almost galling, "She's not... she's... I don't know what she is."

Geralt snorted as he listened to the bard flounder. He'd have to be blind not to see the way the couple danced around each other, not to mention the air grew heavy with the scents of their attraction whenever they spent more than a few minutes talking to each other. It was getting annoying.

"She's been avoiding me." Jaskier murmured woefully.

That made Geralt pause as he sent the younger man an incredulous stare. Avoiding? They hadn't been more than a handful of steps away from each other since he had returned to consciousness. Hell, he had been surprised when Jaskier had decided to come with him instead of staying back with Lyrra. What the fuck was the bard talking about?

Jaskier sighed under that look, "Lyrra has this smile. It's the one she gives to the tavern's patrons she doesn't particularly know. Polite enough, but doesn't invite for more. She's been giving it to me the past couple days... It feels like she's building a wall - I don't know what I've done wrong."

Geralt rolled his eyes and turned to continue his trek. He didn't have time for this nonsense. The brush grew thicker, but a few paces ahead a small clearing lay. The bodies of the two fleders resided within if they hadn't been dragged off by the wildlife. By the faint smell of rot in the warm summer air, the witcher knew he would still find the corpses.

"Perhaps I've been too clingy." Jaskier continued thoughtfully, "I just... I like being near her. I thought she liked it too."

Geralt refrained from sighing, he knew Jaskier could go on like this for hours if he let him. Instead, he tunneled through the rest of the brush as he commented, "She does."

The bard perked up curiously at this, a hopeful tinge in his voice as he cautiously asked, "Really?"

It was such an insecure question that Geralt nearly scoffed at his companion. It wasn't like Jaskier to be so...well insecure. The bard exuded optimistic confidence no matter the situation he found himself in, uncertainty usually didn't set in until after he barreled into trouble... or in this case, he had broken things off with his lover. The witcher glanced back at Jaskier to see a nervous edge tightening his visage. It was then that Geralt remembered how young Jaskier really was, barely a man of twenty, "You're not the reason she's being distant."

He stepped abruptly into the clearing and the sight of dark mangled flesh met his gaze, behind him Jaskier audibly heaved as the smell and sight finally hit his senses.

"Gods that's disgusting." The bard moaned piteously, "Please tell me, we didn't come out here to bring those back with us."

"No." Geralt growled as he knelt next to one of the corpses, "It's unusual to find a fleder so far away from civilization. They like crypts and sewers, not woods and vineyards."

"Which means what exactly?"

He reached for the clawed hand of one of the fleders, uncertain of what he was looking for, as several bugs flew into the air. Jaskier choked in disgust and backed himself toward the edge of the clearing. Geralt paid him no mind as he looked over the wounds he'd made – his strikes had been clean to the bodies. Their size, Geralt realized now, was smaller than the fleders he had encountered in the past, but not by much. These were the same height as him, most towered another foot above. The claws were long thick tapers, but otherwise ordinary. He scowled as he continued to scan the hairless, warted body. Already muscle and skin had shriveled, the summer heat had done little to preserve the remains. It was then he smelled it.

A sickly-sweet scent. Like rotting roses, coming from the creature's mouth. His golden gaze zeroed in on the creature's fangs as he stuck a finger along the back edge of the sharp canine.

"Oh Geralt, no!" Jaskier groaned as a black seeping liquid sledged down Geralt's arm, "I should've stayed with Lyrra."

Poison.

Geralt eyed the substance curiously as he sniffed deeply at his hand. The sweetness was worse, but he recognized a few of the underlying scents. He now understood why he had been so fatigued; the toxin would act as an anesthetic on a normal human in small doses, but what the fleder secreted would kill its prey. Geralt wasn't normal by any means and he was suddenly thankful his mutated anatomy had allowed him to make it a few miles away before succumbing. However, fleder's typically weren't poisonous either, "Fuck."

Jaskier raised an eyebrow as he dryly stated, "Good news I take it."

Geralt glanced at him with a frown as he wiped his hand in the grass, "They've been altered – purposefully mutated."

The bard's brow furrowed in confusion, "Why? What would be the point?"

"I don't know." Geralt murmured lowly as he gave the corpses a leery glance. He would leave the remains here and check back in a few more days. If he were lucky whoever had made these beasts would be looking for them. It wouldn't do to have someone running around creating new monsters for the world, "We should get back."

»»————-　　————-««

The sharp shink of metal was the only sound that disturbed the quiet air of the cottage yard and how Lyrra was able to find one of her guests as she came back from the markets.

"You know I've had my little panic problem for a while now." Lyrra stated softly as she stopped before Geralt sharpening his swords, "I don't think it's something that will go away from a few training drills."

Geralt barely paused in his actions as he settled a firm glance on her, "I don't intend to make it go away."

It wasn't just the panic she went into when she was touched, but the coil of anticipatory tension that began to wind whenever someone was behind her. She had been trained to expect an attack from behind, trained to feel vulnerable and helpless in the wake of that attack. Her reactions were enough to tell Geralt that her abuse had gone on for longer than he wanted to imagine and the lessons that her abuser had taught her would never be forgotten.

She seemed only mildly surprised at his words as she quirked a brow at him, "And what do you intend to do?"

"I intend to make you use it." He grumbled as he slid a rag over his blade and began to polish, "Acknowledge it, control it, use it, and then put it away."

Lyrra smothered a sigh as she looked almost bemused at him, "I don't understand. Why are you going through all this trouble?"

"I repay my debts."

She stared at him for a long moment, "And what debt could you possibly owe me that would incur this sort of payment?"

Geralt barely stifled a sigh as he set his sword and cloth to the side and met her stare head-on. Neither he nor Jaskier had mentioned what they had discovered in the woods to her. He didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone until he had more answers. Yet, even this was only a small reason to stay and he wasn't about to elaborate further. He didn't have to – she could very well make the connections on her own.

"It wouldn't be for playing nursemaid. This is all too much trouble for a simple act of kindness." She smirked bitterly and he saw shades of her sister shine through, "Renfri, then. I find it particularly curious that a woman you met briefly years ago has this much impact. Granted, yes, you did kill her, but you've killed plenty. Monsters and men. What made my sister so special?"

Geralt frowned disapprovingly at her words, but he recognized the provocation for what it was, wounded pride and desperate defense, "Why? Afraid you don't measure up to her?"

"I know I don't." Lyrra answered wearily, "She was strong. She took her pain and let it fuel her – she thrived from it... I'm not her, Sir Witcher. You've been looking for her since you woke."

That was true... to an extent. There was no denying the resemblance, but Lyrra's temperament was much different from her sister. Renfri, he understood. He understood her pain, her rage, and her desire for justice. He even understood her need to demolish all who stood in her path, even if he didn't agree with it. Lyrra was quieter than her sister however, he sensed that her pain went deeper. Her fear and rage simmered below a well-crafted surface, waiting for the opportunity to overwhelm. He had seen glimpses as she sparred with him. Had watched as she expended more of her energy battling herself and her instincts than she had him.

"I know you're not Renfri, Lyrra." Geralt uttered softly, "And she's only a small part of why I'm doing this. Though I do wonder, why you've indulged me so far."

Lyrra seemed to falter at his words, a faint sadness lined her stormy eyes before she grimaced and looked away, "Because... when I look at you, I see her too."

He cocked a brow and waited.

"Most people remember my sister as a monster." Lyrra explained softly, "You remember a person. I can see it in your eyes when I mention her name or I do something similar to her. You reinforce her memory and it's hard to walk away from that."

"I killed her, why aren't you angry with me?"Geralt finally demanded, "The memories I evoked cannot be pleasant. I took her from you."

"Aridea took her from me." Lyrra whispered, her eyes glazed as she fell into distant memories, "As did the mage. My Renfri died long before you ever arrived."

He didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't. He sighed heavily and he waited for her attention to come back to him, "I will stay only as long as it takes for my wounds to finish healing." He stood and Lyrra watched after him curiously as he moved for the cottage, "You shouldn't underestimate simple acts of kindness. You help heal me, I help heal you. It's that simple, Lyrra."

"How?"

Geralt didn't look back, "Come and find out.”

»»————-　　————-««

Jaskier hated this.

To her credit, Lyrra was doing an admirable job at being brave, aside from the tense set to her jaw, her mien remained expressionless. However, there were still signs that she wasn't handling the current situation well. She had turned that stark white color again and it was only very faint, but he could make out the tremor spilling through her hands. He itched to go to her, but her recent reticence with him weighed heavily on his mind. Geralt had said her reserve had nothing to do with him, but still, he was uncertain.

The witcher stood behind her, hovering just inside her personal space and not touching, merely observing, but she seemed to be anticipating some action from the larger man. What though, Jaskier wasn't sure. He knew that sometimes Geralt would press a hand to her shoulder or hip, but never in the same area. He also knew that he wanted this exercise to be over. This was the third day of them playing some variation of this little game after going through defensive stances and he was tired of it. Despite the impassivity on both Lyrra's and Geralt's face, he could sense her distress and it was making him anxious.

Logically, he knew that Geralt would never hurt her, but logic was hard to hold onto when all he wanted to do was to step in between them. When he knew that when they finally finished for the day, she would disappear for an hour and come back with tear tracks staining her cheeks.

He fidgeted uncomfortably, "Is there a point to this? I didn't think defense had anything to do with standing like statues."

A small smile quirked at Lyrra's lips at his words, but no further reaction or explanation came forth from either of his companions. Instead, Geralt tilted his head in thought as his studious gaze suddenly landed on Jaskier. He always found it rather dangerous when Geralt looked at him like that – it usually meant he was about to be used as bait for some horrific creature.

He gave the witcher a leery look and nearly missed the amused glint that entered Lyrra's grey orbs as she watched him.

"Jaskier, come here."

The bard jerked his attention back to his friend and tried not to frown as Lyrra tensed again. He hated this. Geralt stared at him expectantly and Jaskier sighed as he slipped from his perch on the woodpile. His journal and quill laid forgotten on the ground as he approached, writing was something of a chore currently anyway. Lyrra's eyes followed him curiously as he neared and he couldn't help but send her a flirtatious smile as he stood next to her. He did so love when she blushed from that grin and as expected a faint coral red rose to her cheeks, "How can I be of service?"

Geralt rolled his eyes as he watched the bard's antics, but backed up a few steps as he ordered, "Stand where I am."

Jaskier huffed and stepped into the space that had been vacated, "So, am I just supposed to stand here? What is this accomplishing anyway? Is this some secret witcher technique to make people aware of their surroundings?"

The last bit was more of a taunt than an actual question. He wasn't a complete idiot – he had seen the way Lyrra tensed whenever someone stood behind her and he knew that Geralt was trying to stop that tension from turning into something more... dramatic. He bit back a smirk as he heard Lyrra and Geralt sigh at the same time.

Geralt moved to stand in front of them both, making sure that Lyrra kept her gaze forward as he gave his next set of instructions. There was almost a look of forewarning that the witcher sent to their hostess and by the way, she suddenly stilled, Jaskier was hesitant to do anything he was asked. As if he could hear his thoughts, Geralt levied a heavy glare in his direction, "Jask, place your hand on the small of her back."

He didn't move, a sense of foreboding filling his being as he stared at his friend, "Wh -"

Lyrra sighed again and rolled her shoulders, "It's okay, Jaskier...go on."

Her assurances weren't good enough and Jaskier found himself scowling as he asked, "Can one of you please fill me in on the importance of this exercise?"

"No." Geralt answered soundly and lifted a brow at him, "The small of her back."

Stubbornly, he crossed his arms, not in the least intimidated by the witcher's glare. He was going to get a bloody answer out of one of them for this continued nonsense. Lyrra was the one to break as she kept her gaze forward and her voice unreasonably light as she said, "He's trying to keep me from falling into some bad memories. I was hurt repeatedly as a child and when someone touches my back, I remember that pain. It makes me rather useless when being attacked, apparently."

"You're not useless." While her words were unsurprising, the dark twist through his gut was as he tried to quell the urge to demand further explanation. Despite, what Lyrra may think he had ascertained some form of abuse to her person from their night at the inn. She had spoken during her nightmare, quietly whispered pleas that had fair broken his heart – he couldn't bring himself to ask after those cries when her gaze had alighted on him that night, he was beginning to wish he had. Fuck, he didn't want to cause her pain, "Lyrra, we don't need to do this."

She peeked at him over her shoulder and smiled gently as if he were the one who was being tested, "It's fine."

It really wasn't.

She turned back before he had a chance to protest.

"You've both lost your damn minds." He scoffed quietly and glared almost petulantly at Geralt as the witcher merely crossed his arms and patiently waited. He had a feeling if he didn't do it then his friend would and somehow that seemed much worse.

Nervously, he shook his hand out before hesitantly reaching up and pressing his fingers into the hollow of her back. She went positively rigid, but as he moved to yank his hand back Geralt froze him with a look.

An expectant look.

It was as if he were expecting the bard to suddenly know what to do to make this all better. He wasn't a bloody mind healer for Melitele's sake, "Tell me to stop, Lyrra."

"It's fine." Her voice was tight as if she were gritting her teeth.

Jaskier swore, he fucking hated this – desperately, he fell back into the one tool he knew how to use better than anything, "Close your eyes, Lyrra and listen to my voice."

She must have sent Geralt a look as the witcher nodded at her to follow his directions. She crossed her arms and Jaskier bit back a sigh as Geralt sent him another expectant glance. He kept his touch light as he asked softly "When you blew that dandelion into my face, what did you wish for?"

"What?" Lyrra asked somewhat bewildered.

"I know it's been a few days, but after we decided we were unfit to marry. I handed you a dandelion and you blew it into my face." He ignored the raised eyebrow from Geralt at his words and pushed on, "What did you wish for?"

"Um... nothing. I just wanted to see your reaction." Lyrra murmured.

"Oh?" Instead of pulling away as his instincts were screaming at him to do, he slid his hand around to grab her hip. A touch of humor and curiosity entered his voice as he asked, "And did I give you the reaction you wanted?"

She snorted quietly, "You were surprised... but delighted, like I had just given you a grand gift instead of a face full of seedlings."

Jaskier felt a small grin tug at his lips and he gradually began to press his body closer to her, "You did give me a gift. You trusted me to be your friend." She began to stiffen again as his warmth started to settle against her back, "Trust me now, Lyrra. Trust that it's me behind you. Trust that I will never hurt you... What happens when someone touches your back?"

"I panic." She whispered tightly.

Jaskier grimaced, "No, start smaller. What's the first thing you feel?"

There was a long drawn out pause and for a horrible minute, the bard was sure he had made a mistake, had drawn her further into her fears instead of away. Then a shuddering breath stole through her as she answered, "Ice. It feels like ice has been poured into my veins. I hate the cold."

"What else?"

She swallowed, "My heart beats so hard that I'm sure it will pound through my chest. My throat tightens and I can't seem to scream, no matter how hard I try... and I feel weak as a babe, my arms heavy and my feet slow...and I can feel him. I can feel his hands and his breath."

A nauseous roil climbed Jaskier's stomach as he began to work out just how exactly she had been hurt. Her reserve around him suddenly made more sense... By the Gods, how he hated this. He clamped down on the need to rebuke both his friend and Lyrra for making her relive these horrific memories day after day. His grip on her tightened ever so slightly as if he could drag those memories from her skin, "You're not weak. You're still here. Still breathing, still speaking, and warm, and kind. I have watched you. You take the time to chat with every customer, you take the handsy ones away from the other barmaid."

"I don't-"

"– don't deny it, I've seen you do it." He rubbed faint circles into her hips as his chest met her back, "You always greet the barkeep with a smile. You help that man – Nigel – find safe shelter when he's too deep in his cups. You speak only kindly of Madam Hatchet."

"Madam Tyssa."

He smiled at her exasperated correction, "You gave Geralt your bed and your home. You listen to me ramble. You let us try to help."

Her hands slipped down to meet his. He could feel a faint tremor through her chilled fingers and gently trapped them under his on her hips. It was an odd reverse hug they stood in, but Jaskier didn't dare move now. Instead, he buried his face into her hair and continued to whisper to her, gentle questions and even kinder observations.

The couple had forgotten Geralt as he watched her trembling subside and her pallor lessened, "Lyrra."

Her grey eyes wearily lifted for the first time since Jaskier had begun speaking and the witcher found himself softening under her wary look. He silently asked her if she would be okay to try the next part of their exercise. The part they hadn't been able to get to before. She sighed inaudibly and nodded as she unconsciously tensed in Jaskier's arms.

The bard turned an irate stare on his friend, already sure he didn't want to hear the next set of instructions, "No. Whatever you're about to say, Geralt, just no. We've done enough for today."

There must have been something in his gaze that gave Geralt pause as normally the witcher had no compunctions about overruling him. Hesitantly, he nodded in agreement, "We'll try again tomorrow."

A faint murmur of protest left Lyrra's lips and it was all Jaskier could do not to shake the woman. Was she so intent on torturing herself? His lips brushed the rim of her ear, "Tomorrow Lyrrana. I will touch you until your heart's content tomorrow."

"How do you make everything sound like an innuendo?" Lyrra asked quietly as she tilted her head back to meet his stare. A faint twinkle of amusement shined in her grey orbs and he nearly smiled in relief.

He basked in that look, in her nearness as she leaned willing against him. For what felt like the first time in millennia, though it had only been a couple of days, she wasn't staying just out of his reach, wasn't presenting her mask of polite tolerance at him. He brushed a light kiss to her brow, "Just talented that way."

Her faint blush returned under his scrutiny and he bit back the urge to taste her lips when she didn't pull away. Slowly, he linked his fingers with hers and tugged her around to face him, "You don't have to hide from me, you know? I may talk utter nonsense, but I do make a rather good listener too, my lovely Lyrra."

She stilled in surprise and a sheepish smile quirked at her lips as she realized her attempt at distance hadn't gone unnoticed, "Jaskier..."

He didn't particularly want to hear her excuses or apologies just then. He shook his head at her with an amused huff before gesturing for the cottage, "Come on. We'll talk later."

Lyrra said nothing as she let him guide her inside.

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