#the witcher: path of destiny

[dukeofdogs]

Companion mini figures from The Witcher: Path of Destiny

[hanzajesthanza]

me an tha besties suffering penance, earning an expiation of guilt. a baptism of fire. passing through fire, which burns, but also purges. paying off our debts by running up debts with each other. and you bet we are eating fish soup together too

[beneficialfondue]

Hey, fellow Witcher lovers, if you haven't seen this yet, you should check it out! New Table Top game!

[sonsofks]

Tu Oportunidad de Participar: Crowdfunding para The Witcher: Path of Destiny Está en Curso

Los fanáticos de los juegos de mesa y cartas pueden participar en esta emocionante campaña para el nuevo título de The Witcher.” A partir de hoy, entusiastas de juegos de mesa y cartas de todo el mundo pueden unirse a la campaña de crowdfunding para The Witcher: Path of Destiny, el último título de Go On Board ambientado en el universo de The Witcher, creado en estrecha colaboración con CD…

[akreon]

Here is a box art I had the pleasure to illustrate for an upcoming board game "The Witcher: Path Of Destiny" It was really fun to revisit those characters once again.🖤

[cultofthewyrm]

The Witcher: Path Of Destiny by Anna Podedworna

[caffieneaddictt18]

Life, Death, and Destiny

Prompt: Witch!Reader keeps giving Geralt weird little trinkets and crystal necklaces saying that this one protects you and this one keeps the bad feelings away and this one will call good spirits and wisdom upon him, and he doesn't believe her until one time he's fighting this monster and somehow, he keeps dodging this monster perfectly without even needing to drink his elixir. He kills the beast, and goes back to Witch!Reader, demanding her to explain how this works when he knows for a fact, she doesn't have magic like a mage or a druid. She simply winks and leaves him curious, so he stays with her and figures out how she is somehow unintentionally magical.

I'm not gonna lie, I did not stick to this prompt. It went a little sideways and flopped. So, my apologies! It is not false advertising, I swear.

As Geralt was walking to Roach, his mare, he heard his name called... It was faint but grew louder as the person shouting his name got closer.

"Geralt!"

Geralt rolled his eyes, thinking it was another townsfolk wanting him to go kill something.

"Geralt, wait!"

But then he recognized that voice...

"Geralt! Would you stop for a minute?"

He stopped. The Witcher slowly turned around and saw y/n. They were panting, keeled over.

"Before you leave, take this." They reach out and in their hand is a little charm that can be added to the strap of leather that keeps his hair up. "It's for battle wisdom. Knowing you, you'll need it. I hope it keeps you safe on your travels." Y/n stands up, and composes themselves.

"Well, I can see you are wandering towards Roach... where will you go next?"

Geralt took the charm slowly. He didn't trust anything magical. Especially when it came from someone that he had never heard was magical beforehand. Nevertheless, he took the charm and clamped it around the leather holding his hair back.

"There was a monster sighting near Waterwood. The locals regularly use the water for business, so they need me to come clear out whatever monster lies in the river." He gruffly divulged the details of his departure.

"Well... if you ever wish to come back, you know where I am." Y/n skipped off down the stone path to the cottage that sat on the edge of the wood, surrounded in wildflowers and other magical plants.

Geralt grunted before stalking back to Roach, mounting her, and taking off into the night.

______________________________________________________________

Y/N woke to a banging on the wooden front door. The type of banging on hollow wood that gave you chills. Especially after being chased from town for giving Geralt a charm. This specific town doesn't necessarily take too kindly to witches and magic.

The banging lessened to a knock. Y/N quickly extinguishes all the candles before slowly opening the door and hiding in the nook between the wall and the door. Waiting for anyone...

someone...

The person walks in slowly, sword in hand, and eyes seemingly glowing in the dark. The stock build of his shoulder balancing out the slender legs of pure muscle. His footsteps silent, but hers are gone.

Y/N makes no noise as they scampers across the floor of grass and behind a chair. A chair made of engraved wood and hide from a monster, if you can believe it. Absolutely beautiful.

Y/N gently whistled a tune... a tune used when Geralt and them went on a small stroll through the woods. Y/N insisted that it would help Geralt ground himself before the hunt he was about to embark on.

Immediately, he stopped and put the sword away before casting Igni on a candle near him. He carried it to the chair and saw a head of hair peeking out from behind the arm of it. "Y/N?"

"Geralt!" Y/N stands from the crouched position on the ground and goes around to hug Geralt. He accepts it before lighting the fireplace filled with charcoal and adding new wood to keep the old burning.

"Why did you hide? Monsters don't knock. Mages don't bother people in their homes anymore." Geralt was ticking things off a list that might make them be wary of anything.

"Were you... were you scared of me?"

Y/N, who was first scared that Geralt might go on a rage like the one in Blaviken, was now flustered. "Oh no! Oh goodness, no!"

"So why were you skittering around like a mouse, trying to find warmth?"

"I... I was chased out of town..." Y/N can see Geralt tensing, becoming physically angry, "Don't worry about it though! It allows me to become one with nature. I forage all my food now and the butcher is kind, giving slices of meat no one else would want. I have deepened my relationship with magic and peace. I am happy. Don't worry about me."

Geralt was trying to slow his breathing and be rational, staring into the fire. How could they do this to you? You had done nothing but help them, and they turned on you. You had provided them with medicines that don't poison and trinkets that you can only find in the forest.

"Why?"

A simple question that held so much power. The power to anger or calm. The power to cause action or stop it. The power of chaos or peace.

And so, Y/N chose peace.

"I assume they finally decided they didn't like me anymore," Y/N smiled.

"That's a lie. You provided them with medicine. Small villages don't just abandon their healers." Geralt moved, gently pinning Y/N to the monster-leather seat.

"So tell me... why did they do it?"

Y/N looked into his eyes, marveling at how their reflected the flames to look like pools of lava themselves. Y/N knew that their response was too late when he furrowed his brow. Y/N looked down.

"They... they saw me give you that charm..." Geralt quickly got up and leaned against the stone mantle that looked like it had been there forever, made by Gaia herself. A sanctuary for the weak, weary and, what others would call, weird.

"They don't take kindly to magic folk around here, Geralt. It's why I have placed wards around the cottage."

Geralt was surprised. An actual ward? He knew that you liked to do everything yourself, if you could. Wards required mages and you were not a mage.

"A ward?" You nodded, "And who did these wards?"

"I did!"

To him, you sound childish. A person with no real magic was somehow placing wards around their home...

But somehow, the house seems untouched by the outside world. The hurtful one of torches and pitchforks.

"Alright... well, I have a monster hunt nearby. I'll stay here. Just for some extra protection." Geralt announced. There was no turning back or denying him this.

______________________________________________________________

As Geralt was walking out of the cottage that was surprisingly not attacked by townspeople the entire time he was there, Y/N called to him.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nope!" Y/N holds out a small necklace with a complicated charm strung onto it. "Just wanted to give you this."

Geralt gently took it into his hands. "And what does this one do?"

"It's a protection necklace. I know you will inevitably find danger, so this should help keep you on your toes and safe for your also inevitable return," Y/N proudly announces to Geralt as he kept a straight face. He had no real belief this would do anything for him, but he put it into a pouch near his chest.

"Alright. Stay safe, Y/N"

"You as well, Geralt. Blessed be, my friend."

______________________________________________________________

Geralt rode upon the cottage that had a plume of smoke exiting the stone chimney and candlelight coming from the kitchen. It was an exhausting monster hunt and all he wanted to do was rest.

Once he had tied Roach to the small stables that Y/N kept up, he walked to the home. Before Geralt could knock, the door swung open.

"Geralt!" was all that was said before a flurry of greens and browns flooded his sight. He was encompassed with the warmth only you could provide. A hug... something he hasn't felt in a while.

You slide off of him and out of his arms. "How are you, my friend? Why don't you come in?" Y/N opens the door for him to enter and beckon the large man inside your cozy home.

The smell of rosemary and chicken flood his nose. The warm glow of the fire in the living room flickered across the walls and seeped into every crack, spreading the softness that Y/N carried. Geralt walked slowly into the home and sat down on one of the chairs you have. It was soft, like from a castle, but not quite as tall or luxurious looking. He wondered where you got it from.

Over the fire, a soup of chicken, carrots, potatoes, and herbs brewed in a cauldron that seemed to magically hang from the ceiling, even though it was directly under the chimney stack.

"So... how are you, my friend?" Y/N's gentle voice entered Geralt's mind. It's like you were allowing him space to take in the home as he wishes instead of flooding his senses with everything all at once. A nice change of pace of the monster hunter, the White Wolf.

"I am... good. I was surprisingly not hurt on my last hunt. This striga seemed... slower than normal, though..." Geralt contemplated on his latest hunt, mulling it over in his mind, "Must not have been at full strength."

"Would you like some mead?" You offer the Witcher some of your honey wine. A delicacy was not often seen in common households, but you have never been part of the common folk. Plus, you tended to a honey bee hive in a tree near the cottage.

"Why not?" Geralt takes the mug of mead from you as you walk to the cauldron where your stew was done cooking. You ladle the chicken soup into wooden bowls you once bought from a traveling merchant and add a slice of bread to it. It had not been the first time you opened up your home to the infamous White Wolf... and it certainly won't be the last.

"Well, eat up. You are welcome to stay as long as you like." You offer a safe night's sleep before finishing your bowl of soup and putting the bowl in a basket of other dirty plates and bowls. You take the cauldron of soup and take it outside, where you can feed the hungry children of the village. The only people who dare to come near...

Before you can lug the pot of wonderful healing stew outside, Geralt notices. "What are you doing?"

You stop, setting the cauldron on the floor for a rest. "Well... the children of the village have not been eating as much and I feel bad... their parents cast me out, not them. Why should they have to suffer for a choice they had no choice in?" Y/N looks at Geralt in confusion before shaking their head and picking up the cauldron again.

Geralt stands and before you can walk with the heavy pot, he takes it from you. "If they catch ypou doing this... you could be killed."

"I would rather die doing something good than nothing at all." You skip happily besides Geralt as he carries the pot with way less effort than you have to.

As you approach your normal spot to feed the children, you can see the dozens of eyes that hide in the woods. They are scared...

"You have nothing to fear, children. The Witcher will never hurt you."

First, nothing happens, but after a minute, a thin girl walks to you. You kneel, handing her a bowl of the chicken stock. You know this one. This girl has been sick since she came from the womb of her mother, who died during childbirth.

A boy, a bit stockier than he was a month ago, came up to you, slightly avoiding the Witcher's gaze as he also grabbed a bowl from you and started drinking the contents of the soup. You gave him bits of chicken and vegetables, knowing that he won't be full unless the boy has them. He has grown since you first saw him.

One by one, the children gained confidence in you and lost their fear in the monster hunter who was leaning on a tree behind you.

Eventually, you ran out of mouths to feed and food to give, so you grabbed the bowls the children used, put them in the cauldron, and walked home with the pot in hand.

"Well, Geralt, what brings you around this time?"

"Just a reprieve. I needed some... how do you say it... grounding."

You drop the cauldron by the door & clap, "Perfect! I'm going to the well now to grab water. It is chore day. What would you prefer to do?"

As Geralt looked around, he noticed the various plants that were hanging in your window and drying in the sun. And then he noticed the weeds that had begun to grow in your garden.

"Let me grab the water and prepare the pot for another meal," Geralt wanted to take the heaviest thing off you. It would not be too hot weeding the garden considering the time and season.

"I can weed the garden and wash the bowls & cutlery. Fantastic! Make sure to rub the inside of the pot with tallow before hanging it up to dry."

Geralt grunts and walks to the well, buckets in hand.

This is going to be the longest day in a while...

______________________________________________________________

You prep Roach before Geralt is scheduled to take off into the horizon once more.

As you finish getting the saddle tied down, you look around for any peering eyes. Not finding any, you pull out a Rune for speed and chant a small & simple spell before tying said rune to the inside of the saddlebag.

You hurriedly make yourself seem busy by packing his saddlebag with all the necessities, including a jug for water and a fresh loaf of sourdough bread wrapped in some parchment that you covered in beeswax.

Geralt exits the cottage, strapping the last bit of armor down to himself, walking towards you and Roach. Before he can reach you, you walk to Roach's front and say a quick prayer and chant for speed and health. That they may get to wherever they must be, right when they must be there and not a moment too late.

As Geralt approaches, you give him one last hug. And a warning...

"Save the apple bread for when you need it most."

Geralt, understandably confused, watches as you skip towards your cozy home. Before you make it even halfway, the White Wolf shakes his head as a method of clearing it before mounting Roach and taking off into the distance.

______________________________________________________________

You are calmly knitting while waiting for the loaf of bread in the fire to cook when a banging erupts from your door. You are immediately apprehensive, as banging is not usually a good sign anymore.

Before you were chased out of the town banging meant someone was hurt. Also not good, but treatable.

Banging now... that's nothing good.

"Open your door or I will kick it down!" Geralt's gruff voice was muffled by the door, but you could tell he was yelling.

You hurriedly put down your knitting project and let Geralt in. He walks in and turns rather smoothly however quick, effectively shutting the door and trapping you between him and the thick wood the door offered.

"What are you? Are you a sorceress?!" Geralt questioned you with intense yellow eyes. The type of eyes he saved for people who have used him and lied to him.

"No, Geralt... I am not a sorceress. Why do you ask?" You gently take one of his arms down from its tense position leaning against the door to massage his hand in between your fingers. You gently guide him to a chair and sit him down before asking once more...

"What has made you think that I am a sorceress, Geralt?"

He grunts and looks into the dancing flames of the fire that licked the stone and left black soot marks.

"I was faster, stronger... more insightful... Roach rode like the wind and we got exactly where we needed to be just in time, even early. This didn't start happening until you started giving me things. And don't think I didn't notice the rune in my saddlebag. You may be a witch, but you are no sneak. So, what are you?"

A pregnant pause filled the space and time had eaten away at it.

You needed to tell him eventually. Now was as good a time as ever.

"I... You're right. I am a witch. But I am not a sorceress or a mage! I do not dabble in chaos. I am an omnist. I believe in the existence of every god. I also bend and use energy at my will. The thing people call 'Destiny' can be written, but then erased & rewritten. That's what I do. A 'narrow miss' suddenly becomes an 'easy dodge.' I take Destiny... and I manipulate her for my desired outcome. And if my desired outcome just so happens to be a few kids fed and the Savior of the people of the Continent, so be it."

It felt as though the energy had moved from this feeling where something was violently poking and stabbing to try and get out, to absolute stillness.

An eerie calm after a storm.

The sort of calm you feel right before a bomb goes off...

Except...

No bomb went off.

No storm flooded the room.

Geralt could only feel awe.

Not at just your power but how you chose to wield it.

You had the power of Destiny at your disposal, and you chose to help a few kids whose parents banished you from their town.

You had the power of Destiny... eating out of your hands... and you chose to help him...

The last time he felt this... loved... was Yennefer. But even Yennefer's love wasn't baselining love. She was lust. A poor foundation of love.

What is Geralt even thinking?! Love? He couldn't love. No... His path was a lonely, treacherous one.

But it was one many others have joined him on...

Maybe it wasn't as bad as he is thinking...

Maybe...

Just maybe....

A little bit of love is okay.

The White Wolf doesn't howl his praises or paw for attention. All he does is kneel.

Kneel in front of the most powerful, lovely, deadly person he has ever known... and hold them.

"Thank you... for protecting me..."

"Anytime, Geralt."

______________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. If you have any requests, please feel free to ask me. Also, I know I made this one non-binary after editing, and I know what I said before I posted anything. Have a great night! Bye!

[thelostgirl21]

Okay... but I've just realised (thanks to this beautiful gifset) that, when Jaskier asked "What are you doing here?" to Geralt, the question was a very direct one, as if Jaskier already knew that Geralt's presence there was obviously no coincidence.

And, of course, the answer he got wasn't: "I went looking for you because I missed having you in my life, was worried about you, and heard you'd gotten yourself into trouble. So, I came here to rescue you and ask if, perhaps, you'd want us to go get some ale and talk about what happened..."

It was: "I need your help".

Because that's what Jaskier does: care about and help people. And Geralt came back into his life because he needed his help and expected Jaskier to still care enough to agree to help him.

Whereas the only personal request that Radovid ever made to Jaskier was for him to sing a song...

And he told Jaskier:

Yet, the very first thing that Radovid ever told Jaskier about himself was:

i.e. A song very much NOT about a white-haired Witcher.

Literally, the things Jaskier learned about him, in chronological order, are that:

- He's good at randomly catching lutes.

- Oh no, he's hot.

- He's long wanted to see Jaskier in person... what?!

- His favorite song is "Song of the Seven".

- Oh! Good! He's a fan!

- His name is Radovid...

- ...Comma, PRINCE?!?!?!

So, Jaskier knew that Radovid loved "Song of the Seven" the most even before he ever knew that he was talking to the crown prince of Redania named Radovid.

And what did that ridiculous spoon of a prince do?

Ask him to pick a song of his choice while gently trying to orient said choice towards a song that others would love to hear him sing.

It may be a small detail but, even in his private quarters, Radovid is already making choices for the benefit of all in attendance rather than allowing himself to be selfish by demanding from Jaskier the song that he would most wish to hear him sing.

And, after Jaskier surprises him by choosing to be emotionally open and vulnerable with him - singing something to him directly from his heart - Radovid shows gratefulness and appreciation by making the effort of learning his song and attempting to sing it back to him.

On top, of course, of lowering his own mask and allowing himself to be honest about his feelings, who he is, and agreeing to do what he can do to help Jaskier in his search for Rience.

Radovid is all about reciprocity, taking other people's needs into consideration, and not taking anything Jaskier is willing to offer him for granted.

And, after Jaskier was hurt by the mistake he made, he literally stopped expecting or believing that he was entitled to receive anything from Jaskier anymore.

So, when Jaskier asked Radovid the question "Why are you here?", it almost feels like a question directed at Radovid, but also at Destiny, or the gods in general, because, somehow, he went searching for his family... and Radovid was the first person that crossed his path.

Like "something" was trying to let Jaskier know that Radovid is now a part of that family, too, and he wasn't meant to get rid of him the way he did that morning.

He also discovered that Radovid told the truth about having given his royal security detail the slip before coming to see him and Ciri, as all the guards and servants that were assigned to him have been violently massacred in his absence...

And now, there he is... weeping alone in a corner, defenseless, surrounded by the corpses of the people that were supposed to keep him safe but can obviously no longer do anything to help him...

The crown prince of a Kingdom that the Nilfgaardian Empire has just declared war upon (and therefore, a prime target for capture to use as a negotiation tool with King Vizimir).

And what is Radovid, Comma Prince, concerned about the most?

Taking up too much of Jaskier's valuable time...

Like, for fuck's sake, Radovid!

All you did was answer Jaskier's question regarding what had happened here, you spoon!

You were offering Jaskier your time and knowledge. Not the other way around!

There's no need for you to apologize for freaking existing, and perhaps needing a bit of support given that the reason all of your guards are dead - and you're now stuck in such a vulnerable position - is that you ditched said guards the night before to keep Jaskier and Ciri safe from them!

If you'd done as you were expected to do, chances are that you would all have been on your way to Tretogor by now.

And, okay, granted, Jaskier and Ciri would probably have been glaring at you the whole way there, trying to escape, and hating you forever (which would've been a bad thing).

BUT, you and your whole royal security detail wouldn't have been at Aretuza during the coup; so I'm sure that, at least, they would have been happy to be, you know, not dead, and helping you get back home in one piece!

So, although you had no idea something bad would be happening to your guards if you just ran off on them, you still chose to put yourself at risk by wandering alone at night in the woods, and refusing to use force to convince Ciri and Jaskier to go with you.

It wasn't a perfect plan, but I think Jaskier is starting to get a better grasp of the type of pressure you were dealing with, and seeing how you might have made choices that seemed to be "the least bad option".

I know I've seen some comments essentially going "Jaskier is such a good person to consider still helping Radovid after he's betrayed him", and I'm not denying that.

But I like to personally think that part of what was going on in his brain, in that moment, was realizing the risks that Radovid had already taken to keep him and his family safe, and the mistake Jaskier himself had made earlier, at least.

Because, when it comes down to it, I've always felt like it was a bit unreasonable for Jaskier to have expected Radovid to 100% trust him with everything he knew, and completely let his own guards down around him, when Jaskier himself couldn't do the same with him.

Each time I watch the scene in the shed, I feel like Jaskier was testing Radovid's loyalties by letting him know that the magical barrier only lasted until dawn, while utterly ignoring what Radovid was actually trying to tell him.

Jaskier might have wanted to trust him, but he couldn't - not yet. So, how could he have expected Radovid to spontaneously share with him everything that worried him, too, or every detail of what he was planing to do in an attempt to fix things?

In a way, I can't help but feel like they are both way too smart and analytical for their own good during that scene.

Like, I know we keep saying that Radovid should have told Jaskier that he wanted to go see Ciri (and I don't exactly disagree), but the problem is that Radovid, up until that point, was operating on the belief that:

- Dijkstra and Philippa were planning to expose and execute Vilgefortz and his spies before Nilfgaard had any chance to know that they were onto them.

And had that messenger not been killed and intercepted, technically, they may very well have succeeded in that endeavor.

But Nilfgaard learned of Redania's plans and were able to turn the tables on them. Something that Radovid wouldn't have known.

So, if we go with the scenario of what was supposed to happen at Thanedd, had Ciri agreed to ally herself with Redania, then every vassal state / kingdom still loyal to Cintra would have joined the North against the Nilfgaardian Empire.

With that level of support, it would technically have been enough to crush any hope of Nilfgaard ever winning a battle against the Northern Kingdoms, and thus, averted a second war between these two superpowers from happening.

At least, for the time being.

From Radovid's P.OV., knowing what he knows, Ciri agreeing to come with them would have, indeed, made everything easier for, well - pretty much everyone, really!

From a personal standpoint, he would have completed the job his brother had given him, and would no longer have needed to keep dealing with Philippa or Dijkstra.

Jaskier would also have gotten what he wanted; i.e. Ciri at the head of the most powerful army on the Continent (by combining Redania's forces with Cintra's and every single smaller Kingdom loyal to them) and able to keep herself safe from her enemies.

And with these two problems out of the way, it would have been much easier for Jaskier and Radovid to be together.

But the thing is that - according to the intel that Radovid had access to by that point- the 2nd war would also have been avoided, and countless lives would have been saved.

And I don't think that it would have been too far fetched to believe that Radovid might have hoped that Ciri's arrival at the Redanian court might have shaken things up a bit there, too.

First, because she's the granddaughter of Queen Calanthe - a headstrong, fierce warrior queen whose authority was greatly respected by her subjects. So, if Ciri has inherited some of her temperament (though hopefully not her ideals), then she wouldn't have been so easy to control and manipulate.

Whereas, from what we've seen, King Vizimir was pretty much likely to go with other people's ideas as long as they were presented to him in a way where he felt like he was the one making the decisions, told that they would reflect well on him and his Kingdom, and that there would be no annoying complaints for him to deal with.

Second, because it's doubtful that she would have wanted to be parted from Geralt and Yennefer, either; and things would likely have been much safer at court with these two around.

And if Radovid's initial plan of just "knocking at the door" had worked, then Ciri would have been in the same room as Jaskier when he would have showed up there, and she could have been able to make the decision of at least hearing out what the prince had to say, or not.

The choice would have been up to her and, had she refused, then at least Radovid would have done all he could to attempt to prevent yet more bad things from happening.

But then, the he suddenly found himself in a situation where, if he wanted to talk to Ciri, not only did it have to wait until morning - since anyone trying to enter the cabin would be blown back by a powerful magical force field (let's all give a good round of applause to Jaskier, that thought stepping out of an incredibly strong protective barrier to go investigate a potential threat with nothing to protect himself but a lute was a better idea than remaining INSIDE the impenetrable protective force that would have held until dawn...) - but he would need to request permission from Jaskier first.

Except Jaskier's job is to look after Ciri and make decisions that are the best for HER until her parents return. Not make decisions that are the best to avoid a war between Nilfgaard and the North (among others)!

So imagine, for a moment, that Radovid had chosen to explain to Jaskier everything he already knew...

That he'd told him that the Redanian spymasters suspected that Vilgefortz was working with Nilfgaard, had spies working with him from within Aretuza, and that the second war was imminent.

Imagine that he'd explained to Jaskier that Ciri, and the amount of political power she represents, might be the only thing that could sufficiently tip the scale in the Northern Kingdoms' favor to prevent another war from happening.

Imagine that he'd told him that, while he'd ditched the small army (a.k.a. his "security detail") that had been meant to accompany him while he "went to see him for information as per Philippa's request" to prevent risking them attempting to take the princess by force, he still felt that he'd had to do what he could to convince her to come to Redania with them of her own free will.

That he couldn't, in good conscience, let the war happen, knowing he hadn't done something to at least try to prevent it.

Imagine he'd told Jaskier exactly what was actually at stake...

First, there's no guarantee that Jaskier would have believed him, and there's no way he could have proven to him that he was telling the truth, either.

Second, Jaskier might have felt like he was betraying Geralt and Yennefer's trust - should he have decided to allow the Prince of Redania to attempt to convince their daughter to ally with his nation to help stop a war from happening.

And third, in the event that Jaskier had refused Radovid's request to be given a chance to speak with Ciri, then Jaskier might have felt like he was responsible for having made the wrong call should a war indeed be declared upon the Northern Kingdoms, because the North lacked enough power, and support, to stay Nilfgaard's hand.

That's a whole lot of responsibilities to drop on Jaskier's shoulders, and a lot of lives to risk on the hope that Jaskier might believe he is telling the truth.

And Radovid does not know what Jaskier himself knows, either. So, he's unaware that Geralt does not want Ciri to become involved in politics, and be forced to take sides (at least, by that point).

The two of them are both operating on the limited amount of information they both have, and trying to make decisions that appear to be the best course of action for everyone involved.

And when Jaskier asked the question "And what do you want?" Radovid clearly hesitated, then came up with an answer that I believe was 100% honest, but clearly evaded the question.

And Jaskier never confronted him about it. He didn't insist that this wasn't what he asked him, nor attempt to get to the bottom of the situation.

I'm 99.9% sure that he did notice how Radovid avoided giving him a straight answer (yes, I know, there's nothing straight about either of them), though, because he immediately became suspicious and looked outside.

But, instead, he gave Radovid the information that the force field would stop working at dawn, later pretended to still be asleep when dawn came, and waited to see what Radovid would do with the information.

One of the most heartbreaking things, to me, however, is that Radovid's answer, when Jaskier gave him that information, was to tell him "I'm scared, Jaskier"...

And Jaskier didn't ask him why he was afraid...

He didn't attempt to investigate what scared him and if - by any chance - it could be scary enough that he might be tempted to do something stupid.

I'm not blaming Jaskier, by the way... Their situation was extremely complex, and Jaskier had his own fears and issues to deal with and manage as best he could.

Radovid is not the only one breaking my heart in that scene, because I think that Jaskier has such a hard time believing that someone could genuinely love him the way Radovid does, that he's unwittingly setting him up to go behind his back by avoiding to fully acknowledge and investigate Radovid's fears.

I think it's easier for Jaskier to believe that Radovid was just so smart that he knew exactly what to say to him, and what to do, to encourage him to lower his own barriers around him and start trusting him - just so he could try to take Ciri from them...

...than to believe that Radovid really would be able to see him and appreciate him just the way he is, and that the connection between them is real.

So yes, Radovid did technically "fail" Jaskier's test. But sadly, I think that Jaskier stopped truly listening to Radovid the moment he decided to test him.

If Jaskier had been brave enough to confront him about the evasiveness of his answer and the reasons why he was scared - if he'd shown Radovid that he genuinely cared about his safety and wanted to help him face those fears, and/or for them to find solutions to Radovid's problems together - Jaskier might have been able to prevent him from making that mistake in the first place.

But, instead, Jaskier came up with his own narrative that would confirm his own fears of never being enough for anyone; and sadly, I don't think that anything Radovid could have done or said, in that moment, would have changed his mind.

And poor Radovid internalized the hurt and heartbreak he saw reflected there as if he was the only one responsible for it.

So then, when Jaskier offers to help Radovid get back to safety, he's confused that he would even wish to help him after the way he managed to so profoundly wound and disappoint him earlier.

Radovid, you may not know this, but Jaskier once told his very best friend in the whole wide world "People do stupid things when they think they're trapped in a corner. And they say stupid things. That's what friends do. They come back."

And somehow, you "came back", because Destiny apparently decided to take pity on Jaskier's own issues and insecurities, and urge him to take a second, closer, deeper look.

And it's not even being subtle about it!

Like "Oi! PRINCE. TRAPPED. IN. A. LITERAL. CORNER. WITH. NOWHERE. SAFE. TO. GO. He told you he was scared earlier, and you didn't even ask him why! He didn't need someone to tell him he was brave, and then wait for him to do something stupid come morning, Jaskier! What he needed, was someone investigating what terrified him, and offering him support. Do you get it now? Prince. Corner. Scared. Trapped. Needing help, but not even able to believe he's entitled to it or not knowing how to ask for it! So fucking help him, for fuck's sake!"

And Jaskier needs to offer, because Radovid apparently keeps putting other people's needs first. So, chances probably are that Radovid won't ask unless he knows for sure it's okay and safe for him to ask anything of anyone whose job is not to tend to him.

Because, in his world, Radovid's main survival strategy seems to have been to constantly provide narcissistic supply to his brother's oversized ego (to be "adored" and protected by the King), by cheering him on from the sidelines, while drawing as little attention as he could to himself.

In Radovid's world, he doesn't matter: he's a spare, easy to cast aside and forget about. As long as the King's pleased with him, he's safe.

(Or he used to be, before the whole Hedwig incident.)

You shouldn't have to listen to him, because he's of no use to anyone and he doesn't matter.

He's no more than a pretty reflective surface for his brother to admire himself in whenever there's no other more interesting image of himself to gaze upon.

That's Radovid's job. Letting others hog the spotlight, coming in second, and stopping to exist whenever convenient.

And when Jaskier says that he can't go with him because he needs to find his family first, Radovid immediately offers to go risk his own life, and use whatever resources he can spare, to help Jaskier be reunited with the people he loves most like it's the most natural thing in the world for a prince to do!

No wonder Jaskier couldn't figure him out... He's used to people just spontaneously dumping all of their issues on him while expecting him to do or say something about it.

While Radovid is going "you don't have to listen to me or care about my issues, but maybe I could do something to help you with yours?"

All the while being the one that would likely benefit the most from having someone genuinely listening to and helping him.

Jaskier: What are you doing here?

Geralt: I need your help.

Jaskier: *Sighs* Figures...

Jaskier: Why are you here?

Radovid: Came looking for my guards, didn't go well, now there's a war and I'm hiding in a corner... Story of my life that I don't want to bore you with... But hey! Maybe I could help you go find and rescue your family instead?

Jaskier: !!!???

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

How The Witcher characters would react to someone from our world falling into theirs

Summary: they’d not appreciate destiny doing this

Notes: More witcher content from me yay! this is inspired by my vikings post that kind of made me into the timetraveler gal

Taglist: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie (hmu to be added)

Masterlist | requests are OPEN!

Geralt

Fuck

This was not on his table. Not some person just appearing out of nowhere, but clearly not from a portal, and clearly very confused

Oh he believes you’re not from the Continent. He just does not like it, at all

Despite everything, he’ll take good care of you

Helps you until you can stand on your own feet, and then fucks off (unless something else happens in between 😏)

Yennefer

She expects you coming to the Continent to be on purpose

Since you have absolutely no power or means of survival, she can for once trauma dump

Wants to leave the Continent upon finding out about surrogates/adoption/etc.

Would help you, but not very reliably

I think the two of you could become friends, given time

Adopts a child with your help (or just takes in an army of orphans)

Jaskier

Will write a song about this

Is with Geralt when you appear, unlike Geralt, he’s extremely thrilled

This is the most interesting thing that has happened to him in years

Talks to you about everything your world has to offer

You’ve got yourself a free, financially stable friend that’ll stick with you, congrats

Triss

Probably the person that realizes the quickest how much you miss your world

She’s an ✨empath ✨

Will take care of you, and that is a threat

She’d also teach you everything about plants and herbs, so you can find work on your own

Not that you need to, because you can count on her to always help you out

Eskel

He was not prepared for this, like, at all

But Eskel doesn’t forget his manners, so he makes sure you’re safe and healthy

Tears up over the fact that you don’t stare at his scars and treat him like a normal person

Honestly the best witcher you could ask for in this scenario

He’ll take you along the Path and let you sleep in inns and such just for your company

Lambert

Lambert has a bit of a… different approach to the whole matter

If you’re funny, you’ll get along

More than a little harsh around the edges

But he’s very interested in your stories, and doesn’t abandon you

You’ll just have to put up with him

Vesemir

He’s completely alone in Kaer Morhen when this happens

And very, very cautious of you

You need to find proof that you’re not a mage

Eventually does take care of you

And keeps you around (totally not because he enjoys having some company)

Also helps you to get onto your own feet

But lets you stay, if you really want to

[thedemonofcat]

In the realm of deep emotions, the bond between soulmates becomes palpable, enabling one person to sense the intense feelings of their counterpart. When Jaskier and Geralt first crossed paths, Jaskier immediately recognized the profound connection, knowing that Geralt was his soulmate.

However, unbeknownst to Geralt, his existence as a Witcher, due to the transformative Witcher mutation, often made it challenging to perceive the presence of a soulmate. It was commonly assumed that Witchers lacked a soulmate altogether.

Despite this, Jaskier accepted the circumstances and cherished his affection for Geralt from a distance. Occasionally, when Geralt displayed acts of kindness, like sharing an extra rabbit for Jaskier's meal, Jaskier would indulge in the illusion that Geralt reciprocated his love

When Geralt made his fateful wish, binding his soul to Yennefer, Jaskier sensed a subtle fracture in the thread of Destiny that once linked his soul to Geralt's. From that moment on, it became increasingly difficult for Jaskier to connect with Geralt on a profound level. It was as if Geralt had become a book missing a crucial page, leaving Jaskier with a sense of incompleteness.

Soon after, Geralt uttered words to Jaskier, emphasizing how much better his life would be without Jaskier's presence. Strangely, Jaskier didn't experience the expected rush of anger or sadness that usually accompanies rejection by a soulmate. Instead, he felt an unsettling void.

That night, as he lay in bed attempting to find solace in sleep, Jaskier realized he no longer felt the weight of fatigue or the gnawing pangs of hunger. Returning to Oxenfurt, Jaskier sought refuge in a brothel, hoping the distractions of alcohol and physical pleasure would fill the void within him. Yet, even in the midst of indulgence, Jaskier remained numb, unable to experience any semblance of sensation. Not even self-inflicted wounds could evoke a response within him.

Geralt's words had severed the once unbreakable bond between them as soulmates, shattering Jaskier's ability to feel anything at all. The shattered fragments of their connection left Jaskier in a desolate state, where emotions ceased to exist.

[dukeofdogs]

Pretty art from the upcoming board game shared by Go On Board

[kittenofdoomage]

In case you missed it...

I'm currently posting a fic a day over on Ao3 for my Tropetober A-Z event on Patreon last year. It's a different character every day from different fandoms, mostly smutty (you know me). All red underlined links lead to AO3, please read the warnings on individual stories 😘

The fics:

A: Alpha/Beta/Omega - Winter Nights

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) You’re an Omega who lives at Kaer Morhen, unmated but belonging, almost like a pack Omega to the Alpha Witchers; Geralt, Coen, Lambert and Vesemir, though the elder Witcher is long past any need for you. Geralt is close to rut when he returns, and seeks you out.

B: Bodyswap - Worth The Wait

(John Winchester x fem!reader) Some supernatural beings don’t want to hurt anyone, they just want to prove a point.

C: Character Death - The One Good Thing

(Negan x fem!reader) You waited so long to have him back, and he’s waited so long to get back to you, now you can be happy again… right?

D: Dark fic - On Our Terms

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) A sorcerer out for revenge leaves you in a dangerous position, and you’re not sure you’re going to make it out of this one.

E: Enemies To Lovers - Trapped

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) An incident on a mission leaves you and Bucky trapped in a vault. Being sealed in a relatively small space is a problem on its own, but you’re faced with another dilemma; you absolutely hate Bucky Barnes.

F: Fake Dating - Keeping Up Appearances

(John Winchester x fem!reader) You haven’t heard from John in three months, after he abandoned you, but now he needs your help on a case. Are you willing to ignore your feelings to help him?

G: Glad To Be Alive - All Is Not Lost

(Negan x fem!reader) A sequel to "The One Good Thing" which was letter C of Tropetober.

H: High School Sweethearts - Bittersweet

(Steve Rogers x fem!reader) In any time or place, she'd love him.

I: I Don't Want To Ruin Our Friendship - Mistakes

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) She took a chance and it broke her heart - can Bucky fix the mistake he made?

J: Just Friends - Nightcap

(John Winchester x fem!reader) She’s sick of correcting everyone, and alcohol loosens the tongue.

K: Kiss Of Life - Near Miss

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) Geralt saves your life, then reminds you to never nearly die again.

L: Love Potion - A Wee Favor

(Dean Winchester x fem!reader x Sam Winchester) Dreams can come true.

M: Mates - Crossed Paths

(Alpha!Geralt Of Rivia x Omega!fem!reader) Destiny put them in each other's way for a reason.

N: New Old Flame - Always Yes

(John Winchester x fem!reader) They came so close to something special, only to have it torn away; is there any hope left for them now?

O: One True Love - Backseat Lover

(Dean Winchester x fem!reader) He's been keeping a secret from her, and when they're stranded alone for hours, he finally has to come clean.

P: Please Don't Leave Me - Vigil

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) He's halfway through a mission when something he can't fight happens.

Q: Queen Size Bed - Never Have I Ever

(John Winchester x fem!reader x Dean Winchester) Drinking can lead to all sorts of decisions, luckily, these are good ones.

R: Roommates - Sleepless

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) Turns out, the solution to the problem was there all along.

S: Soulmates - Runaway

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) You run away from the life your parents want for you, and finally find your soulmate in the most unlikely of places.

T: Time Travel - Time Breaks All Things

(John Winchester x fem!reader) - A misstep on a case puts them somewhere they didn't expect to be, and they're not sure if there's a way home again.

U: Unresolved Sexual Tension - Seize The Sam

(Sam Winchester x fem!reader) Dean "Matchmaker" Winchester strikes again.

V: Virgin - Life Lessons

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) The night that Geralt learned his most valuable life lessons…

W: Werewolf - The Wolf Moon

(Henry Cavill x fem!reader) A night of camping leads her right into the arms of fate.

X: Xenafication - Rough

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) Something changes you, and Geralt isn't sure it's a good thing.

Y: You Can't Fight Fate - Ships In The Night

(Dean Winchester x fem!reader) She keeps running to avoid heartbreak but she's breaking all the same.

Z: Zombies - Full

(Negan Smith x fem!reader) She knows she shouldn't, but the problem is, she wants to, real bad.

If you do check any of the fics out, please let me know what you think 😊

[dftea]

Under my own vine

Soft pastoral guilty Geralt (hurt/comfort, geraskier, family of destiny)

"Are you farming?"

The question isn’t mocking but incredulous, as if Yennefer of Vengerberg cannot possibly be associated with a farmer. Sorcerers and witchers and kings and bar–

But no. He isn’t thinking about that. About him.

"What are you doing?”

Geralt hesitates for only a moment before swinging the hoe into the soil again, breaking ground on a new patch of earth.

He can sense Yennefer’s scrutinising gaze on his shoulder, but he doesn’t turn, doesn’t speak.

“Are you farming?”

The question isn’t mocking but incredulous, as if Yennefer of Vengerberg cannot possibly be associated with a farmer. Sorcerers and witchers and kings and bar–

But no. He isn’t thinking about that. About him.

“Geralt, do you even know the first thing about farming?”

He knows enough. The rhythm of the land through the seasons, the growth of a tree over decades, the way a noonwraith blights a crop by its presence. The important things.

For the rest, there’s Alma, the shrewd alderman who gave him the seeds, pointing him towards the abandoned farmstead. They were keen to rebuild a community after the wars, she said, and this land was heavily saturated in blood and magic.

Good for the harvest and perfect for monsters, he thought.

Of course, he says none of this to Yennefer. He is not surprised that she has tracked him down, not after everything they’ve been through, but that doesn’t mean he knows what to say to her. How to explain why he left Oxenfurt at dawn and never looked back.

Except in his dreams, where the same bloody face haunts him.

“You know I could just…”

He imagines she’s waving her hand in some vague gesture of magic and he clenches his jaw, hearing the growl that escapes. “No.”

She sighs under her breath. “Come home, Geralt.”

He wants to tell her that this is his home now, that he has a rundown cottage and the beginnings of a vegetable patch and a place he belongs for the first time. But they both know he would be lying.

Instead, he continues with his task, and she eventually gives up on him, as everyone does in the end.

# # #

“Well, the witch hasn’t gone completely mad then.”

Geralt glares at Lambert from the corner of his eye and goes back to fixing his scarecrow. He thought his presence would be enough to deter the crows from theft but apparently not. 

“Let me buy you a drink! Play some Gwent, and we’ll…talk. Or whatever.”

It’s an awkward offer, but Geralt appreciates it all the same, even if he doesn’t quite know how to accept it. He hasn’t gone to the local tavern except to trade for some small beer and to pick up rumours of monsters and contracts. 

The villagers are strangely pleased to have him living there, rightly believing that they don’t have to worry about supernatural threats as long as he’s present and keeps his swords sharp.

They’ve even given him all sorts of gifts and offers of help, despite his sparse conversation and general glowering disposition. It’s unnerving.

Of course, he knows who to blame.

“Eskel was sorry he couldn’t join me. Something about drowners choking a river.”

“Not Vesemir?” Geralt asks, before he could think better of it.

The silence from Lambert is telling. Vesemir had visited him in Oxenfurt, reminded him of his duty to the Path, to humanity. It was a grand speech, but he has never been moved by words unless they were sung in a lush tenor with a lute at their back.

“You can come in, if you like,” Geralt says, finally, after he’s wrestled the scarecrow into place. “I have pie and beer. And potions.”

Lambert blinks at him. “Potions? What do you need potions for, out here?”

“Do witchers ever retire?”

“Yeah. When they get slow and get killed.”

Or when they're too slow to protect what matters.

“I still kill monsters,” he says, but it’s a half-hearted protest. “I have spare.”

Geralt gestures to his growing garden and the nearby wood. With time to think and plan, he has managed to cultivate a number of common potion ingredients locally. If he can help Lambert and others passing through, he might feel a little less shame for what he’s done.

And he knows they will pass through. No doubt Yennefer has told everyone what has happened to him. They will want to witness it for themselves, check he hasn't taken leave of his sanity like a Cat.

“Come inside,” he says. He can’t keep everyone out forever.

He knows the price of that all too well.

# # #

When Triss comes, she doesn't ask any awkward questions. She brings him an apple tree for the garden and a case of good Toussaint red, as if this is a housewarming, the likes of which he has only witnessed at a distance or in a storybook.

She shares a meal with him, savouring the early carrots and leeks alongside the roasted rabbit he caught that morning.

“Are you baking now too?” she asks, gesturing to the bread and creamy butter on the table. 

He shakes his head. He has an arrangement with a local family where they bake an extra loaf and he keeps them in fresh game, and he can trade for butter with the herbs he forages in the wood. 

“The village,” he says, with his usual economy.

Except it wasn’t all that usual, not before he decided to settle in this place. In the past few years, he learned to talk and laugh and breathe, to be silent in a way that didn’t shut anyone out.

With Triss, he feels those old muscles stretching, but it brings sorrow with it. Because she will leave, and he will be alone again.

As he deserves, he knows. But the solitude hurts more than he expected.

“You’re part of the community now,” Triss teases, and he tamps down on the part of him that leaps at the idea.

Witchers don’t have friends, after all.

# # #

Winter is the hardest season.

He is cold and alone. He has been cold and alone before, of course, but now that he’s known warmth and companionship, the contrast is harsh and bitter.

Game is scarce, and the harvest was not bountiful enough to provide well throughout the winter. He attended the village meeting where they discussed their supplies and who could offer what.

He gave what he could spare, and was surprised when his opinion was sought on the local wolves and roving bandits. He offered to help cut down trees to keep the draughts out of their houses, and ended up with a few spare planks himself.

He makes a chair for the fireplace and then he makes a second for no reason at all. He feels foolish seeing it there, knowing that no one will occupy it, but he cannot bring himself to break it up for firewood.

When Alma brings him a knitted blanket in soft pale wool, he sets it on the second chair. He pretends he doesn’t know why.

# # #

“It really does need to be seen to be believed, doesn’t it?”

Geralt drops his pitchfork and whirls round, sending his new chickens clucking and scurrying away in all directions.

Jaskier is dressed as inappropriately as ever, in grey and light blue silk, though he wears a dark blue shoulder cloak as a concession to the chill. The walking stick looks ornate, almost ornamental, but Geralt knows it isn’t.

Beside him is Ciri, clad simply in black that cannot disguise the tall regal woman who withers opposition with a single glance or word. But she is not queen or witcher or sorceress today - only a disappointed daughter. Geralt recognises the familiar clench of her jaw, the set of her shoulders, from where he’d caught his own expression reflected in fury.

Geralt dared not dream of seeing Jaskier again and now he's here, he cannot stop staring. He looks better than when Geralt was in Oxenfurt, but that is certainly not a difficult feat - the drunken, despairing wreck was barely human when he left. When he forced himself to leave before he watched Jaskier drink himself to death.

All because of him and his mistakes.

Jaskier has clearly regained strength and health, though Geralt notices how he leans heavily on the flimsy stick, how Ciri hovers near his elbow. Perhaps not as hearty as he wants people to believe.

“Will you be all right from here?” Ciri says to Jaskier, ignoring Geralt as she swings a pack from her shoulder and sets it on the ground.

It takes a moment for Geralt to register what’s happening, but then he’s not sure why he’s surprised. Of course Jaskier has turned up expecting to stay - it has never mattered before, after all, how they parted nor for how long.

“Quite fine, darling,” Jaskier says, kissing her cheek and embracing her. “Remember to write.”

“I’ll send a letter with Yennefer when she comes for Belleteyn.”

Which means Jaskier intends to stay for at least the spring, until Yennefer arrives for the festival and the celebration of her birth. 

With barely a look at him, Ciri takes a step away from Jaskier to create a portal and then disappears from view. Perhaps she will forgive him in time, or perhaps not. He feels the pain of her dismissal regardless.

“Even for you, this is quite a silence.”

Geralt detects a hint of nervousness about the words and hurries forward, as if a spell has been broken. He stops only a few inches from Jaskier, close enough to catch him if he falls, and Jaskier’s expression softens into a tired smile.

He looks good for fifty, a few strands of grey decorating his temples, the lines of his face only making him more handsome, roguish. Kissable.

Gods, Geralt has missed him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, quickly, quietly, even though he doesn't quite know how to continue. He’s not going to waste this third, fourth, hundredth chance he's been given.

Jaskier snorts his amusement. “Please. We’re not doing this again. You’re terrible at apologies and, this time, it was mostly my fault. I drove you to it - no one could dispute that, not even our Ciri. Though she tried, bless her.”

Vividly, Geralt remembers that last conversation, the bitter disgusted tone worse than the words.

“Fuck off back to the Path, Witcher. You’ve done more than enough.”

“It wasn't that,” Geralt says, looking away in shame, in guilt. “You were right - it was because of me.”

His sword misses the griffin, a fraction too slow, the advantage of Aard lost as the great beast takes to the sky again.

Then it swoops down - but not towards Geralt.

Towards Jaskier.

A hand brushes his cheek, lute callouses rough against his skin. Jaskier has been playing again. 

He looks up, to see his bard, with a soft warm expression, the familiar light in his eyes. Back with him, truly back with him.

“I would follow you anywhere,” he says, curling his palm against Geralt’s cheek. “Because I want to. Because I need you. Do…do you have need of me?”

“Yes,” he says, immediately, intensely. “I need you.”

And he knows it’s true for him - it has been since the moment they met, if he’s honest with himself. The village has need of him too, because it isn’t enough to survive. They need light and laughter and music, and a charming man in pale silks to tell stories of everyday human things and daring adventures and the heartache of love and hate and the exquisite agony of both together.

They need Jaskier as much as Geralt does.

Jaskier looks down then, because a chicken is trying to peck out the gold embroidery on the cuff of his trousers.

“I’m not sure I’m dressed for farming,” he says, amused.

“Since when has that stopped you peacocking?” Geralt grumbles, and it’s like it always was.

Except that when Jaskier smacks him, he loses his balance and tilts towards him, his laughs swiftly turning to coughs.

Geralt must look frantic with worry because Jaskier smacks him again. 

“I’m not an invalid,” he gasps. “It’s just bloody cold out. Light me a fire, darling, and dig out a slice of this pie Lambert won’t stop crowing about.”

But Geralt can see that he’s tired, how even this short piece of exertion has affected him. He is better, yes, but he is not the eighteen year old who bounded up to a witcher in a tavern or even the forty year old who made the climb to Kaer Morhen.

They are both slower and older now. And so they are going to live on a farm in the middle of nowhere, apparently.

Geralt shoulders the pack and then lifts Jaskier up into his arms like a bride, despite his protests and his half-hearted efforts to hit him with the walking stick.

He carries him across the threshold of the one-room cottage and settles him in the chair by the fireplace, the one with the blanket, and moves to tend to the fire.

But Jaskier fists a hand into his shirt - a dark brown homespun he’d taken in trade for a butchered boar.

“Geralt,” he murmurs, “I won’t break if you kiss me.”

And Geralt kisses him, taking his face in both hands, swallowing the moan from Jaskier as he opens his mouth to him.

He breaks the connection before Jaskier loses his fragile breath, amused when his bard tries to follow his lips.

“It’s been more than a year since I last kissed you,” he complains. “And that's all I get?”

“For now,” Geralt says, knowing exactly how long it’s been. “I want to warm you up.”

Jaskier bats his eyelashes coquettishly. “Well, I have some ideas about that.”

“With tea,” Geralt tells him, because as much as he wants to take Jaskier to bed and relearn the map of his body, he sees the lines of pain on his face, the way he holds himself in the chair. 

“I didn't come here to be cosseted, you know,” Jaskier says, without ire or shame. “I came here to take care of you.”

And Geralt believes him, because he is devastatingly sincere and Geralt knows he’s right. Nothing has been the same without him.

Now, finally, he is home.

[revoevokukil]

When we talk about Ciri, we don't talk much about her own latent ability to see/predict the future, and what it could imply. It's Sunday morning; time for a tea cup theory sesh.

So, coming off Dune - a clear influence on some storylines and characters in the Witcher - could Ciri's capacity for prescience (foresight, prophecy, visions) have blocked her choices and actions from being accurately predicted and seen by someone like Avallac'h who - as an Aen Saevherne - otherwise has abilities almost identical to Kwisatz Haderach?

Was Ciri's escape from Tir ná Lia a certainty or a probability?

It's noted in Dune, how prescients are more or less blind to the movements of other figures with foresight, because people with oracular powers act on the information from the future and actively alter the future this way (disrupting the ability of other prescients to accurately predict the future). They stand "outside" the vision in lieu of an inherent ability to introduce variance in it.

A clairvoyant can't even necessarily see the definite future, but they can see Time so totally (the "when" is not a place), all its possibilities included, that they can create the future; matching, at that, with their goals. They are like ultra-heavy bodies in a field, warping it around themselves. However, if there are those standing outside of the vision, then dictating the future is not entirely possible, for there will always be unknown agentic elements that can turn the tides.

Ciri would be such an element in Avallac'h's and the prescient elves' prophecies and vision of time eternal.

I am pointing to this lore crossover, because let's face it, the Bene Gesserit and later Leto II's breeding programmes are exactly the kind of thing that was done in regard to Hen Ichaer, the Elder Blood, among elves. Breed prescient beings capable of seeing the past, present, and future (i.e. time total; the now) AND moving themselves in time and space (that's the Aen Saevherne) AND from time to time get a Chosen One for whom it's possible to open the Great Gate of Time (that's Lara's would-be child or Ciri's children). Secondly, Ciri, the child of destiny and hope, is so because of a kind of 'uncertainty field' that surrounds her -> she is, arguably, the most agentic, free will-questing character in the tale. The story ends up being about (ensuring) her ability to choose - to doom, to save, to act as she wills regardless of her parentage, powerful actors' manipulations, or the world's expectations.

(Sure, The Witcher is reeeeeaalllly loose with its causal structure (things go the way they go because magic aka "the will of the author, who plays within folklore tropes and story analogues", mostly); it has nothing on Dune in this regard. We can have a classical mechanics Ciri, a quantum-Ciri, or a magical/literary-Ciri. But the ambiguity allows for crossover-theories like this one, so that's fine by me.)

At Tir ná Lia, Ciri has visions of a future where things unfold without her interference: Yennefer drowns, Geralt freezes to death. It's not conscious foretelling, it's inherent to her thanks to her genes. Genes of elven Sages, who see past, present & future - total time.

Considering the aim of the Golden Path then, an analogy: one hypothetical result of the mutations introduced into Elder Blood via mixing human genes with elven ones results in Laplace's demons (Sages) creating a mutation in their own genotype down the road that even the demons themselves can no longer predict.

Making Ciri a Child of Hope in the sense of a truly free, indeterminant wild card, the nature of whom enables uncertainty in the outcomes of the fates of others connected to her choices. Because she herself remains elusive to actors who've a hand in tracing the blueprint of the universe, an act which in itself creates a future that cannot be avoided. The mutant Ciri is a genuine child surprise.

"A universe of surprises is what I pray for!" - Leto II

Analogously to Dune, where the end goal of the Golden Path is for humanity to be rendered undetectable by prescient beings and given a chance to survive by remaining outside of the constraints of a deterministic universe. By, what looks like, evolving a free will.

[aifanfictions]

write a story about Geralt of Rivia falling in love with a witch friend of Yennefer's who is (y/n) who saves Geralt from a striga

The Witch and the Striga

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale silver glow upon the desolate castle ruins. Geralt of Rivia stood at the edge of the forest, his silver hair glinting like a beacon in the darkness. He had been tracking the rumors of a striga terrorizing the nearby villages for weeks. The Witcher had faced many monstrous foes, but this was different. This was personal.

Geralt's path was set. He would face the striga and lift the curse that bound the cursed princess to her monstrous form. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his chest. There was something he couldn't quite put his finger on—a premonition, a whisper of destiny.

As he approached the castle, Geralt felt the weight of centuries press upon his shoulders. The legends spoke of a tragic tale—a princess cursed by a wicked sorcerer, condemned to transform into a striga every full moon. It was said that only the kiss of true love could break the curse, but such tales were often just that—tales.

Within the castle's dilapidated halls, Geralt faced the striga. Its monstrous form, all claws and fangs, lunged at him. The battle was fierce, each strike a testament to Geralt's unmatched skill. Yet, as he clashed with the beast, he couldn't help but think of the tragedy that had brought them to this moment.

The striga's eyes, once filled with anger and torment, now held a glimmer of sadness. It was as if a sliver of humanity remained within her monstrous shell. Geralt couldn't ignore the feeling that there was more to this curse than met the eye.

With one final, desperate blow, Geralt managed to incapacitate the striga. It lay before him, vulnerable and defeated. But instead of delivering the killing blow, he hesitated. He saw something in the creature—a flicker of vulnerability, a yearning for release.

Geralt knelt beside the striga and whispered words of compassion. He offered the creature his hand, a gesture of understanding. Slowly, tentatively, the striga reached out and touched his hand. The moment their skin made contact, something incredible happened.

A surge of energy coursed through Geralt's body, and he felt a profound connection with the striga. It was as if he could see into her soul, and she into his. In that fleeting moment, he saw the truth—the sorcerer's curse had been a cruel punishment, a betrayal of love, not an act of malice.

As the curse began to break, the striga's monstrous form transformed back into that of a young woman—a woman with striking ebony hair and eyes that held the depth of an ocean. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but her expression was one of gratitude and relief.

Geralt helped her to her feet, his heart pounding with a mix of emotions he couldn't fully comprehend. He had expected a battle, a victory, and the lifting of a curse. He hadn't expected to find himself connected to the very creature he had come to defeat.

The woman introduced herself as (Y/N), a witch and a friend of Yennefer's. She had been trapped in the curse for centuries, her true love's kiss stolen from her by the sorcerer's betrayal. She had fought the curse, yearning for release, and in Geralt, she had found an unexpected savior.

As they stood in the moonlit castle ruins, Geralt and (Y/N) realized that their destinies were intertwined. Their connection ran deeper than mere circumstance—it was a bond forged in the crucible of fate. Love had broken the curse, but it had also ignited a spark between them that neither could deny.

The night that had begun with a battle against a striga ended with a promise—a promise of a future where two souls, bound by destiny, would face the trials and tribulations of a world filled with magic, monsters, and love.

And so, Geralt of Rivia and (Y/N) embarked on a new chapter of their lives, their hearts entwined in a love that had defied curses and transcended time. Their journey was just beginning, and they faced it with the unwavering belief that destiny had something extraordinary in store for them.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Of Monsters and Men

The Witcher Season 3

Chapter 1 - Shaerrawedd

Summery: Constantly on the run to protect Ciri’s life. You, Geralt, and Yennefer face deadly foes while trying to keep the peace between the three of you.

Warning: fighting, blood

Of Monsters and Men masterlist

They came for her again last night in the hills by the water. Before that, a few weeks past with some guards and a man with glasses. Some professor. All of them hired by that fire mage, Reince. The reason your traveling party hasn't been able to take a rest for longer then a week at a time.

You'd left Kaer Morhen a time ago with Geralt, Ciri, and Yennefer. Jaskier choosing to go his own way for awhile, concerned about his safety and wellbeing and all that. Understandable. So the four of you left, traveling with the intention of living somewhere for as long as Cirilla needed. A place where she could learn to fight and tune into her natural magical gifts.

Somewhere safe and comfortable. A home to grow and enjoy life for all that it is and can be. The place you'd help raise Ciri until she was strong enough, until she was ready to force Nilfgaard back into their den. Or become a Witcher like Geralt. Whatever her choice, she would be well prepared for it by then.

However, life refuses to make this easy for anyone. Men hunting you four always. Hiding and sneaking in the dark, a few in broad daylight, a couple on horseback. All have come to take her and kill you, Geralt, and Yennefer. All have failed. Yet these events have made Geralt all the more paranoid, more so then he's ever been.

You go through it a day at a time. Teaching Cirilla how to fight, how to hold a blade, how to survive. Yennefer teaches her magic and control of chaos. Geralt teaches her about herbs, monsters, and Witcher things. Together she's got wonderfully exceptional teachers. The best at what they do, the perfect guides for her.

You understand her urgency to grow and learn, but you also know running from place to place is wearing her out. If not now, later. She's bright and fearsome as a spring flower. She doesn't deserve to be hunted for her existence. You know all to well what that felt like, how it still feels. Hunted for what you are. Tracked ruthlessly for days on end.

This is no life for a young girl. Being on the run.

Your hand touches the rough bark of a tree as you press your body against the trunk. High up into the canopy of an evergreen, watching over the snow covered forest for any sign of a threat. The night is dark and the snow falls gently from all around you. Below is your companions camp. They're sleeping near the horses in their thick blankets and clothing. Ciri is wearing your cloak.

You can't feel the cold so your attire looks slightly out of place here. You look more prepared for the spring then this chilly winter weather. All in all, it bothers you not.

You scan the woods but see nothing of any concern. You're far enough north, you haven't seen another person in days. You stay in the tree, siting down with your back against the trunk this time. Letting your head rest pressed to the bark. The scent is an earthy one with remnants of home in the pines outside your mothers castle. There, you'd do the same as you are now. Sit and watch from a hidden point of view.

Circumstances greatly different.

Your mind wanders to the events that led you thus far in your journey since the banquet. That damned party. The place in Cintra where it all began, where destiny chose to push you on a new path. Oh so long ago. A far away memory.

Their tranquil breathing is a good sign that they're all sleep. Some nights you'd keep watch till the dark blue hour before dawn and Geralt would still be awake. Other times that would be Yennefer. Yes, your dear friend Yennefer. She is doing her best for Ciri. She is an immensely patient help to the girl. She is what Cirilla has needed for a long time.

You have been giving her a hard time anyways. You love her, you really do. She's your friend, you considered her your sister at one point due to your closeness and history. You've known one another a very long time. Longer then Geralt. Yet she had hurt you deeply.

Many moons ago she had taken whom you have grown to love and protect. The Cintran princess. Ciri. She had been tricked and deceived by Yennefer just as she did to you. All in the name of chaos. Granted, Yennefer couldn't give Ciri away when it came time for the act to be done. She did go forth with the plans to obtain the enchanted girl anyhow. And she did succeed. She took Ciri from you.

Though Geralt gives a word or two to the mage. You haven't been able to bring yourself to say anything at all. You still feel all too strange about it. Puts a bad taste in your mouth. Most notably, it's severed the trust you had built with her. You'd wished it never happened, and yet it did.

You wished there was no battle at Sodden, you wished that Yennefer never disappeared and lost her powers all at once, and you wished she never took Ciri from you. Those things cannot be undone and you understand this. Some acts are meant to happen for other things to take place. No matter if they hurt or not.

Things will be better, you know this in your heart.

Your scarlet eyes fall upon Geralt tucked warm in his dark cloak, body sleeping on a thick mat. The fire next to his head flickers with the breeze, embers glowing deep fiery colors. You can smell the burnt wood. You can smell him. An odor you could find in the largest of cities, no matter how far he went wandering. A strong man smell of earth and metal. A Witcher's scent.

Tomorrow you'll sleep in a bed. You're sure of it.

———

The day turned to gray storm clouds faster then you'd have liked, bringing wet icy-cold snow from the heavens. Every time you exhaled a puff of white was sure to follow. You could tell the winter chill was beginning to weigh heavy on the other two ladies by the time you all reached Yarpen's home.

The feisty foul mouthed dwarf you first met on the trip to kill that dragon. He welcomed you four nonetheless, though he made himself clear not to touch a thing. And that payment would be due for this unexpected arrival. He did remember you however, and he made it known to stay away from him. Joking of course. Well......you couldn't completely tell.

Fortunately he had room to spare. You, Geralt, and Ciri to one house. Yennefer to the other. You could tell she would have liked your distance to be within a few feet. And maybe a word or two. But you didn't look at her so she knew better then to join you three in the small house. You're not ready to share a conversation just yet.

A few nights passed after the first. You all finding your new home quiet suitable for the time. It's safe and warm. It's far from people and any towns. Secluded. Just how you'd prefer. Just how Geralt likes it. Just what Ciri needs.

You've talked it over with Geralt a few days back. To live here with Ciri and Yennefer until the girl is ready. Keep here through the seasons and let her grow in body and magic. Stay in this quiet place by the water and the pines. You'd like that, but you know Geralt too well.

—

The axe cuts through cold wood on the stand, two chunks of now smaller wood falls to either side. Geralt reaches down for another while you stand nearby with the letter Yennefer stuck to your door. You hold the parchment in your hand and begin. "Dear friends, we're so far off the map here that we may never leave again. Come to think of it, would that be such a bad thing? We'll continue magic lessons before the ice melts, I promise. But for now, perhaps the girl deserves a break. Perhaps you both and I do too. Your friend, Yennefer."

Geralt says nothing. You let the moment pass while he cuts another log in half. "Well?" You ask.

"Hmm?" Another log is cut.

You fold the paper, glancing over to Yennefer and Ciri ice skating together a short distance away. "You have nothing to speak of it?"

"She's trying." He grunts. Two more pieces of wood fall to the piles in the snow.

"I do agree this place is good for us, all of us. But I don't know about waiting too long for these lessons."

"She is still young."

You absentmindedly turn the paper in your hand. "So was I."

He cuts another chunk, then he gives you his full attention. "Her mother wasn't a vampire."

"But she was a queen. Just like my mother. She cannot waste time."

"She has us, do not forget that." His golden eyes shine bright with truth. "She is bound to us."

You watch the young girl smile and laugh with Yennefer, they're a sweet pair losing their footing on the slick ice. They're not very good with skates and yet they're enjoying themselves immensely. You can't help the small smile forming onto your features. "You're right. She has us and she needs laughter if she means to live to her eighteenth birthday."

"You should join them." He suggests with a kind grin.

You set your eyes back to Geralt, "Don't be ridiculous, I'd look a fool." His laughter is sweet as you kick a piece of wood, sending it sailing towards the forest. "Why don't you join them?" He holds up his axe and you flick a hand at him like you mean to swat him like a fly. "Oh shut up."

He smiles again, admiring you dearly.

———

The days pass and the snow stops falling yet it still sticks to the ground. Still keeping your boots wet and some feelings damp.

It may have taken awhile, but one evening Geralt let Yennefer in for dinner. She invited herself, but you could tell Ciri was glad to have her there, so you didn't mind. The time spent was not wasted and the meal was good, though you could not let yourself speak to her. At the end of the night all you gifted the mage was a simple good night and that was it. She smiled when she left. You looked to Geralt and he smiled at you. Giving your hand a squeeze.

A day later you said hello when passing her to hunt for deer in the woods. The next evening you invited her to dinner, well you sent Ciri to invite her. But Ciri told Yennefer you did....you were simply too busy to do it yourself. And now, much to Geralt's surprise, you're about to give Yennefer some extra wine.

You're not forgiving her, but you do miss talking to her. Geralt isn't exactly the best conversationalist of the group and Yarpen is more or less off-put by your presence. Ciri is kind but sometimes you merely want another adult woman to talk to. The horses don't care to listen. So Yennefer it is.

Your boots press into the snow covered earth as you grip the wine bottles handle. You're still uncertain of this decision but Geralt insisted it was the right choice. You are all Cirilla's parents in one way or another, so keeping ties strong should be important. You're still not sure if this is a good idea.

It's too late once you reach the thin wooden door. Just before your knuckles make impact with the wood, it opens. Surprising you, however you don't flinch. Long black hair and two exquisite lavender irises stare back at you. She smiles warmly. "Y/N." A soft, happy voice.

"Yenns." Her old nickname slips out before you can stop it.

Her smile never fades. "You need..."

"Wine." You finish. "I know you needed some more. So I brought you this." You stiffly hold up the large bottle for her to take.

"Oh?" She takes the unexpected gift. "Thank you. I did need some more."

You give a small nod, taking a step back as you mean to leave now. She's unsure of herself or what to say and you don't stick around to listen. You're halfway across the yard when she calls for you. Unlike other times, you stop and turn around.

She's still at the door with the wine bottle in her hand. "Maybe we could share this an evening?" Shaking the bottle to further promote the hopeful question. You can hear it slosh around from here, you can still smell it too. What a lovely scent. Reminds you of the vineyards in Rinde.

"Will there be dancing and music?" You jest.

She tilts her head knowingly, appreciating your light humor again. "It can be arranged."

She watches you flash a quick half grin before turning and continuing on your way. She has waited months for that, not sharing a few words with you has been almost as horrible as losing her magic. Perhaps she'll tell you that when the time is right.

———

Outdoors and crouched by the fire a short distance from the houses, you poke the burning embers with a stick as Yarpen pulls his wagon past you. His horse flicks it's tail as he shouts for it to stop. You stand and go to help unload, Geralt and Yarpen are already taking baskets off the cart by the time you reach them. Though it appears the dwarf is less satisfied with this haul.

"Wish I had more for ya, but the Squirrels hit Henselt's convoy." He says, standing on the porch, picking up a potato from a bag. "Look at these. Potatoes the size of gnome nuts."

The Squirrels, some band of thieves that keep bothering travelers.

Ciri and Yennefer join when you grab a leather bag of something smelling of old bread. "Did they attack your convoy as well?" Asks Geralt, setting a basket onto the porch.

Yarpen scoffs. "I'd like to see them fuckin' try it!" He states, leaning into the wagons side. "The elves' gripe is with the kings, not us. They're just trying to soften the North for the grand cock of Nilfgaard." He makes a little gesture with his thumb and pointer finger. Insinuating Nilfgaards cock is indeed tiny.

"Nilfgaard gave elves refuge, and now they're fighting on their behalf." Adds Yennefer while you walk past with a bag of apples, giving her one in the process. "Amazing what people will do when you give them a second chance." She muses, taking a bite to hide her smile.

Yarpen doesn't miss the subtleties. His brows furrow as he points between you two. "Hold on! You're talking to creepy eyes again?" You glare at him as he laughs. "Bout' time too. I was fearin' we'd never have Spring if you two lassies didn't lighten up. Reminds me, our Belleteyn festival is just down the valley." He turns his attention to Ciri. "You should come."

Ciri grins, excited at the thought. "I'd love to."

"Bad idea."

"It's not safe." Are promptly heard by Geralt and Yennefer just before you add. "Alright." In agreement to this lively spring gathering. A princess should have fun after all, shouldn't they?

The two of them look at you, surprised. Ciri appears rather elated. You shrug at the hesitation from the older ones. "No one's asked about her in months. Everyone will be in costume and we'll be there." They remain unconvinced. "We can handle ourselves."

"And...I was born on Belleteyn." Adds Ciri, looking between the three of you.

Yarpen grins mischievously. "Ah! You'd have had a shot at bein' May Queen. Except my niece's beard is comin' in nice and full this year. May be some competition. Hahaha..." His laughter is rapid and annoying with that accent of his, but you don't mind his enthusiasm. Geralt gives him a warning glance as he walks around him to pick up more stuff from the wagon.

"Just say yes, already!" Shouts Yarpen, irritated with Geralt's usual disapproval. "About time for a fuckin' thaw round here." He walks off to sort his things, no doubt fed up with the lack of adventure radiating off of your group.

Ciri approaches Geralt. "I promise I'll be safe." He sighs, taking his focus off of the wooden box he's about to grab from the wagon.

Taking out a bottle of wine from the box in your left arm, you casually flip it in your hand. "We may not have the grandest luck, but honestly with us so far out here. How bad can a Spring festival be?"

———

"I feel ridiculous in this thing."

Sat diligently in his chair, Geralt turns around to meet you in a rather beautiful dress. You stand there like a fish out of water in a green thing that makes you look like some sort of queen of the water nymphs. It is gorgeous and spring-like, but it is Yennefer's extra gown. Not quite your taste by any means.

Geralt keeps silent, too awe struck to speak a word, no less think to create one. He's never seen you in such color before. His golden eyes scan all over your dress, the way it sits on your body, the way it hugs in just the right places. He finally stands and approaches. His eyes are dazzling as he looks into yours. "You look lovely." He says softly. "So beautiful my dear Y/N."

Your irritations slink back with the sweet words. You can't help but reach up to hold his cheeks in your nimble hands. His strong ones resting on your hips. "Thank you. Though I may have neglected to realize I would need a dress for this thing."

He squeezes your hips. "Would you have me take it off you then?"

Heat immediately blossoms in your nether regions with his sly words, enticing question indeed. You rub your thumb over his lips. "Perhaps." You gift him a tender kiss. "When we return."

"Now let's get going shall we?" Geralt parts from you to open the door, he holds it for you and gives a slight nod of his head. "Your carriage is waiting my princess."

You step past him but not before running your finger across his broad chest. "Why thank you sir. Will you be with me all night?" Gerald chuckles as he follows you out the door.

"If you'll have me." He adds, playing along.

You smile deviously. "Wonderful. We're going to have a brilliant time."

———

It didn't take long until the lot of you had made it to the Belleteyn festival. It didn't take long for you all to get to comfortable and thus before you knew it, shit went south. The night was filled with fires and food and music. Joy and laughter and drunken spirits. Then in the maze, a place that was meant to be an enjoyable time with company. A place to get lost in for a little while and act silly as you tried to find the way out. It was fun.

Then you heard something. So faint, a movement on the earth. A rolling vibration, many legs, a mass of energy larger then anything that should have been at Belleteyn. Geralt didn't hear it. No one around you wandering the maze revealed any inclination of hearing this mysterious being. You knew it was alive and going somewhere.

Then you caught it's foul scent when the wind changed. Putrid and stinking like an insect left with a rotting corpse. Then the sound and the smell intertwined as it neared wherever it was in the maze. Yes, it had entered the maze. And no sooner did the name of the creature leave your lips did the terrified screams begin.

Geralt ran and so did you. Luckily Yennefer came to Ciri's aid faster then either of you could get there. Together, the Jackapace was defeated and no one from your company was wounded. But it hurt knowing what this meant, and so here you are now. A new plan settled and mapped. A different turn in your ongoing traveling protection team. One crafted by Ciri herself.

To lure Reince out of his hole. The fire mage who sent the Jackapace, the one who has been sending all those men after your group. After Cirilla. After you. He stole her Elder blood in Kaer Morhen and used it on the Jackapace, once they have a scent, they never stop hunting. Always a problem, always running and running and running.

You miss those days before all this. Before Ciri and Jaskier and when it was just you and Geralt traveling the Continent. Just you and your Witcher together. Old times. Good times they were.

Now you're being sent to the closest city over to bring back Jaskier, so he can help your merry band lure Reince out. You would greatly enjoy a week without this hiding and moving to just sleep in a tavern with Geralt. Oh how destiny has other plans for you.

———

Redania isn't so bad, well if not for the smell it really wouldn't be such a dull place in your eyes. Though you've never been fond of cities to begin with. Always terrible smells and loud noises, drunken folk and watchful guards. Too many people.

You walk past merchants selling their wares, children running with a dog, and others shopping in the streets. Men laugh loudly from a tavern on your right while a horse screams on your left when a fool smacks it's arse. Women hurry past you to get to where they're going. A boy almost runs into your legs, not looking as to where he's going. If there's one blessed thing about cities, people don't pay you any mind here.

You hunt for the Sandpiper. You know where he stays when he's not at the taverns or wooing ladies at the court. And if you're lucky, he won't be in the middle of entertaining that blonde woman again. What she sees in those bright blue eyes of his, you have not a clue. He's a bit too loquacious for your taste.

You still love him for his quirks anyway.

Past a man with a brown and yellow snake around his hand, you turn the corner and stop, your legs have brought you to a riveting sight to be seen. A woman with dark hair and plush deep red lips is, what it appears to be, threatening Jaskier. She's close to him and she reeks of magic. A mage. A man with reddish blonde hair stands off to her right, he wears royal clothing. Furs and red. They are undoubtedly Redanian figures of importance you're sure of that.

Unfortunately, you don't catch the conversation and just as you came, they leave him. You watch them walk off somewhere else, a few guards following dutifully behind. Not wasting a moment longer, you're behind Jaskier and holding up his lute that was on the ground for some reason. He doesn't hear a thing.

"Will you sing me a song for a few coins? It's all I have." You tease the distraught bard. He instantly recognizes your voice.

"Now this..." Jaskier turns around to see you at long last and by the looks of it, he's genuinely glad to see you. "Is a delightful surprise." He smiles blissfully, not even aware that his lute is in your hands. "Still ever so radiant, and terrifying and uh why...why are you here? Is Geralt here too? Ciri? You guys hunting something or just stopping by finally to hear me sing with my...oh right. My lute."

You give it a little strum. "Just me."

"Yes and though I am thrilled to see one of my very best of friends again. Whenever I see you and those magnificent ruby red eyes of yours. I know it means trouble." He points. "Or you've come to your little vampirey senses and realized I'm way more interesting then Geralt and a joy to hang around."

Plucking some cords, you share a fangy grin. One that is devilish and beautiful. "Oh how I've missed you. But no, not here to listen to your sweet voice nor protect your bum when that mouth of yours gives more then your coins do."

Jaskier laughs. "That's fair I suppose."

"Yes, but I do need you." You insist with a nudge to his shoulder.

Jaskier's face falls. "Oh no, no, no. What is it this time?"

•••

"Bait!" Exclaims Jaskier. "I rode for days with Y/N, mind you, to get here. Battling hunger, battling the elements, only to discover upon my arrival that I'm being used as..."

"Jaskier, me." Interrupts Ciri as she walks with her horse, Jaskier doing the same, you in between them. Notably without a horse to lead.

"...bait."

"I am the bait. Rience is after me." Adds Ciri matter-of-factly.

"Yes, which means he wants you alive, and me very much not alive. You see my anxiety?" He insists, loudly. Dramatic.

"We're not gonna let anything happen to you Jaskier." Says Geralt now as he and Yennefer ride near on their own horses. The three of you stop as they approach closer.

"I saved your arse once. I can do it again, Pankratz." Adds Yennefer as Jaskier casts his eyes on her doubtfully.

"You didn't save me..." He glances between you and Ciri. "She didn't save me. She.." You both begin to smile as his horse snorts at him. "She didn't! But seriously, you are gonna save me, right?"

"Of course, Jask." You pat him on the arm. "Have we not before?"

He scoffs. "Well, there's been moments. Moments where I've feared for my sweet lovely life."

"Seem fine to me." Whispers Ciri, holding back a grin.

"Ah, ah, ah! I may look it, yes. But the memories. The things I've seen because of them." Jaskier waves a hand at you and Geralt and Yennefer. "I should be more traumatized then I appear. I probably am really."

"Oh you little princess." You playfully start as Ciri begins to giggle with amusement. Jaskier just swats you away, poking at you until you move out of reach from him.

"Be gone woman!" Says Jaskier, still whipping his hand around. "Mean." He leans his head close to Ciri, trying real hard to whisper. "She may save your life but she won't save you from her insults." Ciri simply nods, holding back a laugh.

Rolling your eyes, you rest a hand on your hip. "I can hear that."

"Oh I know you can!" He shouts dramatically, enjoying your friendly squabble. "Maybe I wanted you to!"

You stick your tongue out at him. Jaskier does it back. You make your face contort a little to show off the more vampiric side of you. Jaskier hisses, pulling down the bottom eyelid of his left eye. Your skin begins to turn grey, irises glowing blood red and fiery orange near the pupils. Jaskier kicks a foot out like some drunken man attempting to brawl.

"Alright you two." Sternly breaks the voice of Geralt. You and Jaskier return to your composure. "We won't make Hagge by sunset." Geralt looks to his left, the landscape with its small hills, trees, and an old ruin. "We'll make camp here."

"Sleeping in the woods again?!" Complains Jaskier. "Honestly!"

—

Your party, consisting of your friends and Yarpen's, settle among the broken rock of the ruined tower. You all take your time to set up camp, built small fires for their warmth and let the horses feed. When curiosity takes the better of Cirilla, yourself, Geralt, and Yennefer follow her to the center of the ruins. A more quieter place from the others.

Here the ground is open dirt with little grass but in fair patches scattered about and near the rocks. Further is an unambiguous platform made of stone, a large statue of an elven woman in the center. Two sets of stairs lead on either side of her to another platform the same as the first. Around this, and this old courtyard of sorts, the walls are tall with open doorways of high arches leading further into the structure. You can feel the energy of this place, it's violence and pain.

You can almost smell the blood.

"What is this place?" Asks Ciri as she goes on ahead, captivated by its melancholy beauty.

"It's Shaerrawedd." Answers Geralt. He knows the story just as Yennefer and you do. Though you were alive on the Continent when it took place, they had yet to exist.

Your scarlet irises linger over the white roses growing in patches here, below rocks, and at the bottom of the weathered statue. "Tread lightly. This land is full of stories." Warns Yennefer, not wanting Ciri to touch something and risk a vision. The imagery would be a horrible sight, you know this just as they do.

Ciri approaches the stone platform, enchanted blue-green eyes bewitched by the flowers in such an odd place. "Never seen so many wild roses in one place. They're beautiful." She admits, stopping in front of the elven woman of stone.

The three of you stand to either side slightly behind her. You focus onto the moss crawling up the sides of the carved robes. "Their story, sadly, is not." You stop next to Ciri who looks up at you, your eyes never leaving the moss. "Aelirenn. A brave and inspiring elven warrior who thought she could defeat the humans. She was wrong."

Yennefer steps closer to the roses. "A rather condensed version of the story." Spoken with a tinge of bitterness. She is of elven blood so you understand.

"And what's yours, then?" Asks Ciri.

Yennefer turns to address the young girl. "After the Conjunction, humans arrived. The elves thought the humans were just a nuisance, like a plague of locusts or a drought. That they would die off in the blink of an elven eye. But the humans kept multiplying. And killing." Yennefer glances up at the statue. "Aelirenn knew the threat wasn't going away. So she rallied all of the young elves to fight, at Shaerrawedd."

"Sounds like she fought for what she believed in." Says Ciri, admiring the statue as well. "To protect her people."

Geralt rests an arm around her shoulders. "She did fight for what she believed in. She led those young and passionate elves to war. They revered this place. This is were they fought. They fought for her. And they died with her name on their lips and their honor and integrity intact. And in doing so, they condemned their species to annihilation. She led them all to their deaths." Geralt explaines, giving a remorseful sigh. "Neutrality. It won't get you a statue. But it'll certainly help in keeping you alive."

He gives her shoulders a comforting squeeze before releasing her and choosing to head back to camp. You can sense his unsettlement with this place the longer he lingers around. Yennefer stays a moment and then turns to leave as well, you doing the same. This is no place to sit and remember it's history.

———

The night arrives and you tuck in close to Geralt. There is not much to say with Ciri and Yennefer sleeping so near, a usual and necessary occurrence these past few months. The four of you can't seem to get away from one another for too long. Then again, the world hasn't quite let you. Ciri is much too important for you all to disperse and go your separate ways. A ridiculous thought really.

You can't complain with a white haired Witcher at your side and a heart beating only for you. He is moody, tranquil, and formidable. Yet he is gentle, soft-hearted, and deeply alluring. You would never trade him for all the gems and gold in the entire world. And at your origins, you are a princess. Daughter to the Vampire Queen, the first vampire in all of the Continent. A pure-blood vampire. One who was never turned, simply born as she is. A true terror. Your mother.

You haven't seen her in centuries.

Geralt pulls you close, his chest pressed to your back with his arm slung lazily over your waist. He's sleeping though his hand holds yours, a soft grip that remains with his unconsciousness. He holds you when he sleeps, you know this is the only time he fully relaxes. He knows you sleep light and would, and have, protected him when he slumbers. He knows he's safe now.

Your lips press to his fingers and you snuggle in closer, if that's even possible. You relax and listen to the careful thudding of his heartbeat. You can feel his chest rise and fall. Hear the expansion of his lungs, the contraction of the heart in his chest. At first when you began traveling with him, these human sounds would bother you. You'd close your eyes and smell the blood through the skin and hate yourself for the thoughts that would arise.

Then, as a new night would arrive, those thoughts of blood and natural hunger would disappear. Disappear until they were no more. Now you relish in the presence of Geralt and all his essence that keeps him alive and well. The vessel containing spirit. The soul of your beloved Witcher. Without him in your immortal life, even knowing this will not last, you wouldn't have ever changed meeting him.

So you sleep and wait for dawn.

—

When the first morning bird fluttered down from its perch on the thin branches above. Before it opened its throat to sing of the rising dawn, you woke. The rustle of feathers and the quick movement of its three pronged feet reached your ears in sleep. Your ears with their slight pointed look, the inherent characteristic of a vampire. No matter if you are half or not. Your mothers blood is far too powerful. By right you are a damphir, yet your blood gives you the strength of a pure-blood.

Not all attributes are a delight. The noise of the small bird is enough to keep you awake, granted more time spent held in the wee hours of the morning with Geralt is bliss. But when you find the pink of the sky readying to turn everything bright again. You cannot make yourself stay and lay docile when you know others hunt for your people. And you.

Silent as the winter snow falling from the heavens. You slip from Geralt's embrace and away from Ciri and Yennefer who continue to catch needed rest. You make not a sound as your legs take you throughout the camp, this is unintentional but you cannot help the gentleness of your footing.

You check on Jaskier who is fine. Then the dwarves still sleeping and the horses keeping watch. When your nose picks up the scent of smoke, are you following it to a small gathering of branches. Yarpen tending to it with a stick in his hand. You stand silently, observing his movements like a fox on a hillside. He remains unaware for a few minutes until your curiosity causes you to speak.

"Cold?" Your voice cuts through the morning chill though gentle it may be. Yarpen jumps like a startled dog, almost managing to throw his stick in the air.

"Well fuckin' gods ye tryin to kill meh?" He yells with a hand over his chest. "When in the great fuck did you get here?"

"Apologies. I did not mean to scare you."

Yarpen laughs merrily, shoulders relaxing as he takes a seat on the rock near him. "Ay, not many bastards can do that." He points the stick at you. "You're not like those silly old cats anyways. Odd bugger you are." He chuckles, resting the stick over his knees.

You glance at the ruins of Shaerrawedd. "Indeed." Voice soft and reflective.

Yarpen cannot tell if he's offended you or you're simply lost in thought, perhaps pondering a matter intuitively. He shrugs. "Eh, you ain't so bad if Imma be honest with ye. Just uh, guess I'm not so fond of those sharp toothed bloodsuckers from the north." He muses.

You let out a humored breath. "I respect you for your truth. But I trust you because Geralt does." You swiftly turn to leave but stop a moment to speak to him from over your shoulder, he's intrigued by this. "Thank you for your help." And with that said, Yarpen blinks, readying to speak though you have already gone. He jumps up looking this way and that but you're nowhere to be seen.

He sits again, contemplating your words.

In the stronghold of the ruins of Shaerrawedd, you stand below the towering statue of the elven warrior. A she-elf who died fighting for her people. You remember her. That name from so long ago, you remember when your mother told you about what the elves were doing. What happened here. You could only see it as unfortunate but brave, not that a whole species was condemned in one battle.

Your kind was here before them and the humans. Surely these beings were meant to rise and fall and change and evolve. That's what creatures do who can die easily. That's how their kind survives and thrives.

You are immortal and cannot die like them, so you can only watch and understand, your mother would explain. Vampires are meant to remain forever and protect their own, keep the world in a sort of balance.

Whatever that meant.

Footsteps sound from a short distance behind you, small and delicate, coming to the place where you stand. They have not entered into this ruin but you need not move from panic, it is Cirilla. You wait for the young princess to join you if she chooses. The wait is not long.

When she gingerly approaches to your right, you give the girl a nod of acknowledgment. "Out for a walk?" You ask. Ciri goes to take a seat on a broken chunk of the ruin.

"I had another dream." She answers softly.

You nod. "Dreams huh? No dream you bring to me is ever filled with sweet marshmallow bunnies. Was it a nightmare?"

"No, it wasn't frightening. Just couldn't sleep thinking about Aelirenn. And my grandmother." She explains as you go to sit next to her. "They lived centuries apart, but burned with the exact same mission. Wipe the other species off the Continent."

Ciri stands up, eyes set to the statue and the white roses crawling up it from below. "When I finally fell asleep, it came to me." She kneels down to touch the beautiful flowers. "If I can offer something different. A way forward that doesn't divide, but unites." She stands once more. "I'm part elf, I'm part human. I understand both because I am both, and that is my strength."

"I understand what you're saying. History, it..." You sigh. "...has a way of repeating itself. Even for the idealistic."

"You say Aelirenn's idealism is what led to the massacre of the young elves, but maybe if her elders had supported her instead of abandoning her, they could've won." Ciri glances at the statue. "Yennefer said they have a saying."

You reiterate that saying in perfect Eldar. "What has been need not always be." You speak in common tongue. "Yennefer told me the elven queen, Francesca, could offer more to her people."

"So could I." Adds Ciri, defiantly. "Geralt taught me how to fight. Just like Calanthe. Yen has been teaching me how to harness my powers. Like Mousesack. And you, Y/N, you've taught me how to weald a blade. Something I always wished to know. What if this is the reason destiny brought us together? Nenneke said I have the power to change the cycle of hatred. And I want to. To bring balance between kings and mages, and to align the Continent, instead of constantly putting parts against each other. Because I am sick and tired of destruction and loss."

Her eyes are close to filling with tears of great frustration and sadness. You quickly stand and go to her, resting your hands on her thin shoulders. Sincerity in your voice. "I don't doubt you, Ciri. I do doubt the world, though." Your sensitive ears prick with the sounds of many footsteps. Clang of metal and hushed voices in the distance. Ciri immediately picks up on your abrupt silence.

Her eyes grow with confusion. "Y/N what is it?" She quickly turns to the sounds of Geralt and Yennefer running into the grove. "What's happening?"

Geralt has his sword in hand. "They're here."

"I know." You reply, taking hold of Ciri's hand. She looks up at you. "Be brave, child. We'll be near." You slip from her fingers and silently walk into the shadowed parts of the ruin.

Yennefer and Geralt talk to Ciri a moment before joining you in your hiding spot. You keep still and listen, they watch your face for the sign that Rience and his men are here. The one you four have conspired to draw out, luring him to his death as you'd planned. Ciri completing her duty well as the bait.

You didn't think they'd arrive so soon, but he is a fire mage who can portal after all. And he's irritatingly clever when it comes to tracking what he so desperately wants. You have no choice but to keep quiet and wait for the right time.

From under the ruin archway to your left, behind the statue of Aelirenn saunters out the fire mage and his equally as appalling men. You can smell the stink of horse and ash on them. The scent of magic, putrid and rotten, coming from Rience's vessel.

Ciri snaps her head around at his decrepit voice. "Cirilla of Cintra. Alone at last. Well, not quite. I've brought some friends this time." Says Rience, moving in with swaggered steps.

They get close, surrounding her in a half circle, preparing to strike. You resist the urge to move and aid her. The men begin their assault yet they are met with great resistance by the princess. She wasn't trained by the best of Kaer Morhen for nothing. She fights them off the best she can until Yennefer leaves the hidden space near you. She knows Ciri cannot do this alone.

You and Geralt join her with swift destruction. Yennefer duels with Rience as yourself and Geralt kill his men easily. That is until a few moments later when Rience is able to get a handle on Ciri. He holds her against his chest, one arm around her neck and a dagger to her throat.

A war cry is heard as Yarpen's men and Jaskier follow suit. They bare their weapons and clash with the fearsome enemy. You knew they'd come just when they were so desperately needed. This rush of noise and new faces takes Rience off guard. But not you nor Ciri.

You're busy with two angry men to help her but no sooner is one of the men bleeding on the ground when Ciri races away. A strangely blackish portal behind them. Rience holding his nose, more pissed off then ever. You watch as he falls back in pain straight into his portal, it begins to close when Yennefer holds out her opened hand. She forces it to remain open.

Before you can run after the fire mage, Geralt races into the unknown after him. Leaving Yennefer to keep the portal open until he returns. You hope he returns.

You drive your blade into the throat of a screaming man, blood spatters everywhere as it slips gracefully out again. You run to Yennefer and Cirilla but halt, deciding not to follow Geralt. You hear something new that keeps you back on the battlefield.

You whip around just as a small army of elves race out to join in the battle. Who they are and why they're here are half a mystery. You can only assume they must be with those rouge elves of the queen. While the why can only be known as Ciri as it's source. Of course they're here for her. Everyone always is. All the time. How would this be any different?

Not putting into question their exact motive. You only know to protect your own.

Yennefer stays her ground. Ciri runs for cover and you swing your sword at an approaching elven man, ready to let it taste blood. He's tall with dark hair braided back, his eyes sting with anger as he runs to you with swift footing. His arm moves a sword in hand, following its masters command. The metal clashes with your block, sparks flying from the force.

He draws forth for another attack, this time his sword arrives with a pointed jut. He tried to simply stab you. The point is easily deflected off to the side. When his body pulls with it, you cut his arm off and finish him with a slash to his back. He falls instantly. Screaming out in pain, blood splattering everywhere.

Two more follow after him, however they attack you simultaneously and without much fear. Their attacks are precise and clean, aiming to go for your head. This tells you they know who protects the Cintran princess. It's not every day you face someone who knows how to properly kill a damphir. If there's no fire and no silver. A decapitation will do just fine.

To die without your head. Not how you plan to go out.

The two elves are skilled, more then Reince's men, and more then some of the elves you've fought before. This excites you. They thrash and throw their blades at you, stepping and moving out of your attacks. Their hearts beat heavily within their chests, you can smell the sweat off their brow. You waste no time in bringing them down, however.

Then it's time to move again. You're off on your feet dodging through the mess of men, elves, and dwarves. Swords and axes singing on the air, voices shouting, limbs moving and falling around you. You smell the spilt blood. You hear the strained breaths.

Your eyes spot Ciri amongst the carnage. She's perused by a blonde elf with short messy hair and another with long brown hair. Less unkept then the first. They chase her but the blonde is struck down by a lone arrow, his partner remains. You follow. No sooner has the elven man grabbed her shoulder, yelling, "I've got her! I've got her!" Have you sent your blade straight through his armored chest from behind.

Ciri gasps. The elven man makes a soft wheeze of pain, your sword retreats from his body and he falls to the side. You hear a heartbroken scream erupt from further away, a woman's voice. The voice of anguish. You pay this no mind and continue to protect the wanted Cintran girl until Geralt arrives from out of Yennefer's portal hold. Wonderfully unharmed.

——

A few days past.

The night is wet and dark above a cloudy sky. You wait outside a tavern in the damp street for Geralt. He's inside getting any information he can on the fire mage from whoever wishes to share. You, appearing rather unruly to some locals, decided to stay outside and give them peace of mind. It is simply natural for people to fear vampires. Same goes for a half-blood.

Footsteps sound his return. No sooner have you glanced up has Geralt reached Roach's side. Golden eyes quick to find you leaned up against the brick wall. He recognizes your thoughtful expression.

"Ciri will be fine." He assures you sweetly. "She is with Yennefer.....I know my love, I know your thoughts are heavy. But you know this must be done. Ciri needs to learn and we.." He walks over to take your hands in his. "..are hunting Rience for her. There is purpose in our departure from her. This is how we save her."

"We cannot know this." You whisper, frustrated on the matter. You hated to leave them.

Geralt's eyes soften. "My dear Y/N."

"I know, I know." You squeeze his hands. "I'm trying."

"I know you are." He grins, parting from you to return to the saddle of Roach. Your mind wanders for answers. You wonder if there was a better way to keep Ciri safe without you, Geralt, and Yennefer splitting up. But it's pointless, it's done with and you must track Rience now. With his death and with the discovery of whomever is puppeteering him. That could unlock the mystery of why Ciri is so desperately hunted by so many people.

For the time being, you stay by Geralt's side.

"Y/N." Speaks Geralt gently. Your attention falls to him and a piece of rolled up parchment he's opened. "Dear friends, I miss you both already. Or should I say, we miss you? Your friend, Yennefer. P.S., if Ciri decides Aretuza is not to her liking, I have my eyes set on our next home. A dollhouse on a squid farm." He reads, smiling at the last part of the letter.

You snort and snatch it from him, looking at the words yourself. They are in Yennefer's hand writing. The paper of her scent, a smidge of Ciri and horse. You shake your head, grinning anyhow.

"A squid farm? Not if I can help it."

—————

Authors note:

Alright kids this is the last season I’ll be writing for dear reader and Geralt. It’s been a time and a good one at that, but Henry is Geralt and without him it’s just not the same :( I do hope you all enjoy! I’ve tried to pack each episode in every chapter the best I can so I hope it works. There’s more to come!