#and i stand by the fact that he knew ciri before so i'm thinking he senses something is Off

[batgurl1989]

We Meet Again Chapter 2

Summary: Geralt and Younin share a meal and try to figure out where they stand with each other.

Word Count: 1800 ish

Warnings: There are some spoilers for Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt video game.

A/N: Chapter 2 is more introductions to the characters. It drags a little I am sure, but now that we have established them, things should start to pick up. As always if you want to be added to my taglist, let me know :)

Taglist: @rmtndew @princesssterek​

Chapter 1

Chapter Two

The village that had spread out over the years around the Inn at the Crossroads was starting to settle as the sun began to set. Everyone knew that it was wise to be indoors when darkness fell. It had been a while since anything had attacked the village, but no one wanted to risk it. A few nodded to you as they rushed past on their way home from shops and the tavern. The last time a monster had come bumbling through, you had been the one to scare it off, earning yourself some wary respect.

Geralt was standing under the eaves of the Inn, keeping to the shadows. His hood was pulled up over his head, but wasn't covering his eyes. The golden orbs practically glowed as they flicked around, taking note of everything going on around him. Most people either didn't notice him or didn't see him. But you did.

"Geralt." You stopped a few strides away in case you startled him. You knew how quick his reflexes were, and didn't want to put them to the test. His eyes fell on you, and you watched as they scanned you from the top of your red hair down to the muddy travelling boots you wore. "Ready to go in?"

He grunted, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. You smiled to yourself as he caught the door as it swung open, letting a drunk man stumble out into the street. Silently, he gestured for you to enter first. When he wanted to, Geralt could have manners.

The warmth and noise of the tavern greeted you. The smell of stew and fresh bread lingered among the less savory scents of body odor and dirt. Glinda, the bar maid, nodded to you as she flitted by, her tray laden with pints of ale. With her free hand she pointed to a free table in the back where it was quieter.

It wasn't often you brought someone with you to the Inn, and usually when you did it was for work. Glinda tried to look out for you by keeping one of the quieter tables clean and free. You flashed her a smile of appreciation, and made your way through the boisterous crowd to the table. You didn't have to look to know that Geralt followed you. His presence behind you was not easy to ignore as it set the hairs on the back of your neck on alert.

You slid into a seat with your back to the crowd, knowing that it would be more comfortable for Geralt to sit against the wall so he could see the room and any threat that might be coming. Once you both were seated, he slid his hood back, revealing his white hair.

The noise of the crowd behind you dimmed, as their attention was drawn to where you sat. Looking over your shoulder, you saw that half the room was gaping at Geralt, most with open hostility.

"Ignore them." You grumbled, turning back to face your drinking partner.

"Always do." The corner of Geralt's mouth tilted up in almost a smile. You wished, not for the first time, that you knew what he was thinking, but he was so hard to read.

"What can I get for you, dearies?" Glinda rushed over after pushing her way through the crowd.

"Two pints, and some of that stew you have cooking." Geralt nodded over to the large pot bubbling over the fire behind the bar.

"Thanks Glinda." You offered the bar maid another smile before she flitted off again. Staring at the spot where she disappeared, you worked up the courage to talk to the Witcher sitting across from you.

"Triss isn't around either." Geralt answered before you could figure out how to word your question in a way that didn't seem like prying.

"I wasn't trying to..." Your head snapped around as the words died on your tongue. "I heard Keira had found herself a Witcher. I suppose that's not you either."

"Keira Metz is off seeing the world with Lambert." Geralt confirmed what you already knew, but it had worked to buy you time to organize your thoughts.

"Why are you here, Geralt? And don't try to sell me on the herb search. We both know that's horse shite." You raised your eyebrow as you levelled him with a no nonsense look. "I know for a fact there aren't any Witcher contracts currently in circulation, so what is it?"

"I'm just following the Path, and if I see a friend along the way, is that such a crime?" Geralt tried to downplay his appearance on your doorstep.

"'Ere you go, dearies. Enjoy." Glinda set down their pints of ale along with a bowl of hit stew for each of them. And then she was off again to go take care of another customer.

"Depends on what you need with that friend." You tried to keep your emotions under control when you heard him call you a friend. You knew he would hear if your heartrate picked up, but there wasn't anything you could do to stop it from happening.

Geralt took a long draw from his ale, seeming to ponder how to respond. You tucked into your stew as you waited. Eyeing him from under your lashes, you contemplated throwing him a bone. But neither of you said anything as you enjoyed your meal.

You had forgotten what being around him was like. The long stretches of silence. The grunted responses. The alertness that never seemed to leave him entirely. And then there were the things he did for you. The comfort of knowing you had support if you needed it. The confidence he had in your ability that boosted your own.

"I was in Novigrad and heard Dandelion sing a tale of Ciri's exploits in the South." You broke the silence once you were done your stew. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter why he had found you. It was just nice to catch up with an old friend.

"He is going to make her more famous than I am." Geralt grumbled, but you could tell he was proud. And who wouldn't be? Ciri had grown into quite the spectacular woman, and was off following the Path as the only female Witcher.

"I'm glad she made it out of the White Frost safely." You reached across the table to give Geralt's hand a quick but comforting squeeze. The woman he loved as a daughter had almost died saving the world. It was no small feat.

There was a brief moment when your eyes met, and you thought he was finally going to tell you why he had searched you out. But you watched the fleeting moment disappear, and the look in his eyes became closed off once again. Pulling your hand back, you sighed.

"Well, now that you have bought me a meal and a pint, I guess it is time to head home." You pushed your chair back from the table. Nodding your thanks, you turned to make your way back through the crowd.

"Hey Glinda." You called over the din of the tavern patrons once you made it to the bar. Once you had her attention, you slid a couple of coins across the bar top toward her. "Make sure my friend has everything he wants."

"Aye, dearie." Glinda smiled, her round cheeks tinged red from the heat of the tavern. She pocketed the coins before anyone got the funny idea of trying to steal them.

"How much?" The foul smell of vomit and body odor surrounded you as a man leaned over, burying his nose in your hair.

"Excuse me?" You tried to shove him away, but for someone so drunk, his grip was awfully strong. "Get your hand off me!"

Magic lit in your palm, something you didn't do often. A little display of magic was usually enough to knock some sense into a person. It seemed to backfire this time, as he dug his finger tips painfully into your arm, causing you to wince. You were just about to let a small spark escape your palm, when you felt a presence behind you.

"I believe the lady would like to be let go." Geralt kept his voice low, but the threat was loud and clear.

"What's it to you, Mutant?" The drunk turned his attention to Geralt, loosening his grip enough in his distraction for you to slip away from him.

"It's okay, Geralt." You placed a hand in the centre of his chest as he took a step toward the man. "Let's go home."

Geralt glared at the man for a beat longer than you liked as you watched other patrons gather behind the drunk in solidarity. You didn't doubt Geralt could handle them, but you also wanted to be able to stay in this village after tonight. Tapping your fingers on his chest, the small gesture was enough to get him to look at you.

"Let's go." Your voice was firm, and he seemed to respond to it. Nodding, he followed you out of the tavern and into the cooling night. "I know you are used to that reaction, but those are my neighbours and customers in there."

"All of whom just heard you say you were taking me home with you." Geralt practically growled. He gave the tavern one last glare before following you down the road to your place.

"Well I can't trust you anywhere else here right now." You threw your hands up in exasperation. "Gods Geralt! Do you even care that you almost blew it for me in there?"

"Of course I care." Geralt grabbed your unharmed arm firmly, spinning you to face him. "Do you honestly think I don't care?"

"I... I..." You floundered as you searched for the right words. But words had never been what Geralt cared about. Looking up into his glaring golden orbs, you made a decision.

Grabbing the back of his neck, you brought his face crashing down on yours. Your lips met in a furious kiss as you both took your frustrations out on each other. Punishing each other for things that hadn't been said. His teeth grazed your lower lip, ripping a moan from your chest. Your grip on his neck shifted to his hair, pulling on it. Growling against your lips, he pulled her body flush to his.

The Inn door slamming closed was the ice water that brought you back to reality. And the reality was, you were standing in the street making out with a Witcher in full view of the neighbours you wanted to impress. Pushing him away, you straightened your clothes.

"Let's get you home." Geralt cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Good idea." You stomped off in the direction of your house, trying not to care if he followed.

#geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #witcher fanfic #henry cavill fanfic #geralt x ofc #geralt of rivia fanfic #We Meet Again

[jaskiersvalley]

Hiiiii I'm not very good with prompts but I wanted to send you one to congratulate you on all your milestones on AO3! How fantastic and how well earned! For the prompt, maybe some Eskel/Lambert/Cahir friends to lovers? That OH moment of realization? Any verse is fine, you come up with the most lovely scenarios!

Bready! My partner in crimes and best of enablers. This prompt sings to my heart so much! Thank you for sending such a wonderful prompt to help celebrate 1,000,000 words posted to AO3!

Love was nothing like the films depicted. There was no dramatic music, no red hearts or special lighting. Eskel already knew that with Cahir, the two of them had met at the post office of all places. Eskel had been hoping to send a parcel for Ciri’s birthday and Cahir had been in front of him in the line. He had a whole stack of letters to send by the looks of it, only to fumble them and drop them with a soft exclamation of annoyance. Naturally, Eskel moved to help, only to freeze when he spotted the name and address on the envelope.

“You know her too?” He asked and put the letter next to his parcel to show the matching names.

Cahir stared, looking a little panicked. “How do you know her?”

“Uncle, kind of. Geralt and I grew up together. You?”

After a moment, Cahir didn’t relax but he looked less ready to run or fight. “I was her social worker through the adoption process. We kept in touch.”

Eskel looked at all the letters Cahir was posting and wondered just how many of them were to families that he’d helped and then stayed in touch with. It made Eskel wonder just how big Cahir’s heart was.

Pretty big, as it turned out. And Eskel slowly slipped into love. It was the small things really, the way Cahir would without hesitation shove Eskel out of the way to pay for a date. The way Cahir would happily tuck strands of hair out of Eskel’s face to kiss him but would get flustered if Eskel returned the gesture. Not to mention the sweet, shy way Cahir would ask about trying something new in the bedroom but once they were in the moment he would absolutely lose himself to their pleasure. It was nice. More than nice but Eskel wasn’t the kind to have many words to describe things. All he cared about was that he and Cahir made each other happy.

Even better, Cahir got along with Lambert like a house on fire. They bitched and griped, even arm wrestled for the honour of sitting next to Eskel one evening when they went out. Somehow, it never felt like Lambert was a third wheel on their nights out. It made Eskel love Cahir that little bit more that he didn’t get jealous of the close friendship Eskel had with Lambert. In fact, he seemed to encourage it.

It was Lambert’s turn to get drinks and Eskel watched him leaning against the bar, hips stuck out to one side. He had to wonder why Lambert was still single, he looked good, was a genuinely great man and had a wicked sense of humour. Anyone would be lucky to call him theirs.

“You love him, don’t you?” Cahir asked. He was sitting next to Eskel for a change rather than opposite and playing footsie.

Flustered, Eskel looked to his boyfriend. It was such a non-sequitur question and so out of the blue, he needed a moment to parse it. The time it took only made Cahir press on.

“It’s okay, if you can love both of us, and he can love both of us, I can love both of you.”

Rather intelligently, Eskel blinked. “You what now?”

“The way you look at him, it’s obvious. You look at me like that too.”

There was so much patience in Cahir’s voice, it made Eskel feel a little stupid and foolish. That was rapidly overtaken by the most astounding realisation; he loved Lambert. Which was followed up by a wave of terror because oh shit he loved Lambert.

Taking a leaf from Geralt’s book, Eskel said the most obvious thing, “Fuck.”

At least it made Cahir chuckle and he leaned into Eskel’s shoulder. “You really had no clue, did you?” When Eskel shook his head, he continued, “I thought I was just a time filler while you and Lambert sorted all your shit out. But it stretched for months, now it’s been three years. I had to say something.”

Both of them watched as Lambert picked up the three pint glasses with ease, weaving his way between tables and back towards them. He set them down and looked at the other two.

“What? Did I miss a phone call from Vesemir to say he was finally marrying Guxart?” He snorted. “There’s more chance of him talking about alien abductions than that. So go on, what did I miss?”

“I love you,” Eskel blurted out. He’d never had secrets from Lambert so he had no filter.

It drew a bright laugh as Lambert threw his head back. “I knew that already. But seriously, what did I miss.”

“I love you,” Eskel repeated and watched as Lambert’s bravado slipped for a moment and hurt flashed through his eyes.

“Let’s not do this, Esk,” he pleaded. “You’ve got Cahir. He’s the only one you need to love.”

Which made things a thousand times worse because Eskel was suddenly seeing everything he had missed. The time spent together, the desperate way Lambert welcomed Cahir into his life because if he couldn’t make Eskel happy, he could very well befriend the one who did. Truly, Eskel had been an idiot.

Standing up, Cahir gestured to the spot he had vacated. “Sit.”

Swallowing thickly, Lambert sat down next to Eskel and then squawked when he was pushed closer as Cahir settled down, squeezing them all into one side of the booth.

“So,” Cahir said, voice all business. “Here’s the situation. Eskel’s just realised he loves you. But he loves me too. And I love him. The question is, where do you stand with us? You love Eskel, right?”

Mute, Lambert nodded, staring at the table in front of him.

“Excellent. Question then is, do we stay friends and paramours? Or do you want to try something more?”

Finally Lambert snapped out of whatever daze he’d sunk into, whipping his head to look between Eskel and Cahir who were looking at him expectantly.

“Kiss Eskel,” Cahir suggested, “and have a think about what you want.”

Hesitantly, Lambert looked to Eskel, shy and blushing all of a sudden. Their first kiss was dry, scared and tentative. It was quickly followed up by a second after wetting their lips and pressing together more enthusiastically. When they broke apart, Eskel turned Lambert’s head with fingers on his chin, helping him face Cahir. There was a moment of looking at each other before Lambert was leaning in and kissing Cahir too, mind made up. He already loved them both, even if he’d never dared to say it. Now that nothing was holding him back, he would tell them as often and as loudly as he could. Lambert was in love and, even better, it was returned by both Eskel and Cahir.

#eskel/lambert/cahir #eskel/cahir #eskel/lambert #lambert/cahir #eskel #lambert #Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach #1000000 words on AO3 celebration #tldr: eskel was in love with lambert all along