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cas-kingdom · 2 years

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“For someone who’s totally selling the monster-killing, impassive mystique, you’re surprisingly kid-friendly.”

"For someone who’s totally selling the monster-killing, impassive mystique, you’re surprisingly kid-friendly.”

Geralt looked disgusted for a moment, but then that seemed to be a daily thing he had no control over. Still, he turned back to stoking the fire with an added warmth in his slowly-thawing heart that he knew wasn’t coming from the flame. “Thanks,” he grumbled, unsure if Jaskier had even meant it as a compliment.

“Seriously though, I’m surprised she’s got all four limbs...ten fingers, ten toes...” Akela giggled as Jaskier pinched each tiny digit, and he laughed, reverting back to the baby talk Geralt had to refrain from commenting on. Though he was genuinely glad Jaskier seemed to like the baby, it was still an introduction most unbefitting of him. Of a witcher. He’d known Jaskier for some years, not quite maintaining much of a relationship but certainly becoming at least acquaintances. There was obviously something there, because Geralt had gone searching for the bard purposefully, with no reason other than a subconscious desire to have him meet the baby he’d come to be guardian over. He wasn’t completely sure why the desire had existed. Perhaps he was in need of support after leaving Kaer Morhen and the welcomed assistance of his brothers. Perhaps he was aching for a real fight but needed to ensure the baby’s safety first. Or, perhaps, just simply, he wanted Jaskier to meet her.

Whatever it was, he didn’t think on it, unsure what that would help.

“You know what?” Jaskier had ceased his baby talk, propping the baby on his knee. She was little over four months now and was working on keeping her head up by herself, but Jaskier still had one hand supporting her. “I see the resemblance.”

Despite himself, Geralt scoffed. “That’s impossible, all things considered.”

“What’s ‘all things’?” Jaskier asked. His eyes suddenly widened. “You stole her? Geralt, please don’t tell me you stole this child.”

“What? No, I—” Geralt glanced over his shoulder to glare. “Jaskier, you did not believe she was mine biologically.”

Jaskier shrugged, allowing the baby to chew on the strings of his tunic. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe I thought they’d...reversed...it?”

“You are as brainless as you look, Bard.” Geralt turned his back on him once again, shaking his head to himself.

“Alright, alright, I hadn’t really thought that true.” He bounced the baby on his knee. “You can’t blame me. Witcher best friend says “come meet my new baby” and all kinds of things run through your head. I still haven’t landed on one answer, you know.”

To save himself from the incessant blathering, Geralt roughly interrupted with the answer Jaskier was searching for with little use of his words and brain. “She’d been abandoned, so I took her,” he informed the bard monotonously. He’d had to explain this a number of times, mostly to the witchers of Kaer Morhen when they’d continuously asked him to repeat it, just to ensure they were hearing right. The words still hadn’t quite lost their discomfort.

“So...” Jaskier took a second. “You did steal her?” The look the witcher sent him froze his blood and he removed one hand from the baby to hold it, palm up, in his direction. “Joking,” he assured him. Geralt didn’t look very assured. Still, Jaskier continued, figuring the baby in his arms was enough leverage to escape bodily harm. “Why did you take her? I mean, sure, I’d do it, but you—” He paused for a moment, evidently thinking over his words. “You know what? Never mind. It really doesn’t matter.”

“You think it’s a bad idea.”

Jaskier contorted his face into one of deep thought, silent for a few blissful seconds before he opened his mouth once more. “I don’t, actually,” he decided on. Geralt’s hand paused in its stoking. “I get that you can’t really fight everything that goes bump in the night with a baby on board...but in the long run, I think this might be good for you. Got to start looking out for yourself at some point, right?”

“Hm.” Vesemir had said something similar.

“Yeah, you ‘hm’ away. Baby and I will have a wonderful conversation about all the child-proof adventures we’re going to go on as a trio.”

“A trio?”

“What’s her name, by the way? Does she have one? Because I have a baby name list somewhere...let me find—”

“Akela,” Geralt said. The name rolled off his tongue, the only familiarity about this situation that brought an ease to his battle-hardened soul. He’d spent countless nights since he’d found her, on his back, the baby sprawled across his chest as she slept and he whispered the name to himself, wondering how many more times he’d speak it.

“Huh,” Jaskier said, obviously finished with his mental criticising of the name the witcher had chosen. “That’s good enough. Though I think Jaskier Jr. has more of a ring to it.”

Witcher Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

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faeporcelain · 10 months

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10$ commission for @yourmusicmuse of her OC and Jaskier for the Witcher!!

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weareallstoriesintheend · 7 months

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The Grudge (The Witcher x OC; Jaskier x OC)

Summary: Set between Episode 2 & 3 of Season 2 of The Witcher. Rinah Saov is living with the consequences of saving Vessimer from the Leshy, as the other witchers make her life a misery she decides there is somewhere else her heart and mind need to be.

Words: 2,267

Notes: Just trying something new, writing some new characters/universe that I haven't written before. I know that not many people like OC characters etc. but I really wanted to write this so I hope some of you like it. Just trying something a little different for once 🤷‍♀️

Rinah Saov was the nightmare parents told their children to keep them quiet. She was the stuff of Cintran legend; Redania denied her existence despite her long studies at Oxenfurt - stories and songs and tales of vast pain have been created in her wake.

The last name she adopted was a moniker of her kind, Saov meaning Soul in the elder language. Rinah was a ‘Second Soul’, a creature split in half by ‘good’ and ‘evil’. Equally in control; switching between a strong, extraordinary, but un-magical existence and a being of pure unfathomable power, sporting blood-red eyes and a magic not even the oldest mages of Aretuza know.

She was the origin of it all; the origin of the darkest magic in the continent, older than Chaos itself, a burden she knew all too well.

Their kind had existed before The Conjunction, few and far between, but by the time it was over Rinah was the only one left. Seemingly, she was now one of the oldest creatures on the continent inhabiting the body of a twenty-something year old woman. After The Conjunction, in an effort to placate the many creatures of this new world order she locked away the darkest part of her soul in a cage of her own minds making, vowing that her magic would remain dulled until war ravaged the lands she swore to protect.

A task that she had not been able to fulfill during the first Nilfgaardian war, a war she’d spent mostly unaware of what was happening as she remained locked in dimeritium chains in the dungeons of Cintra alongside Geralt of Rivia.

Geralt had met her by chance, some 30 years previous when he was a young Witcher. Fascinated by his lack of fear Rinah had followed him, irritating him into companionship. Eventually he stopped telling her leave; one day he handed her his sword to fight as hers was kicked from her grasp and that ostensibly insignificant act had sealed a formidable duo that was equally revered and feared across the many kingdoms. Her legends became entwined with his until she was not just two souls but three.

There was however a fourth, one that more belonged to her heart. Jaskier, Viscount De Lettenhove.

Since their chance meeting in a tavern deep in the northern mountains the bard had wormed his way into her heart, a heart she had never once given to another. A thousand years of loneliness came crashing down around her, a feeling she never knew the sound of till she knew him.

Passing each other like flittering nymphs they had flirted with the prospects for years, seemingly only toying with it rather than solidifying any feelings. Geralt dutifully ignored his companion, the most powerful entity he had encountered in all his years, acting like a love-struck child. Swooning every time the loud-mouthed bard would cross their paths.

Then, one night in the woods outside Novigrad, as Geralt had slept, they had spilled their hearts open. Agreeing that the other may do what and whom they pleased, as long as they always made it back to each other.

Rinah was thousands of years old, monogamy wasn’t her style – a fact Jaskier embraced heartily.

Then came the dragon hunt, then Geralt’s rage and an issue neither of them had discussed – the fact that both would follow Geralt’s instructions without question, a different sense of loyalty. Hers to stay and his, with a shattering heart for both his love and his best friend, to leave.

Rinah paced the cold corridors of Kaer Morhern, cracking the bones of her neck in agitation, “Ignore him,” Vesemir said calmly, leaning casually against a damp wall. The silver adornments on his Witcher armor glimmered in the moonlight that shone in from the windows beside them.

The night air around them was peaceful and still, making the echoing thumps of her boots on the stone passageway sound like the walls had a heartbeat.

Shooting a look of daggers his way Rinah snorted incredulously, “I don’t know if you noticed but the little lamb makes it rather hard to do that.”

“Lambert is a feckless brute; he will come around.”

She sighed, halting her pacing and looking at Vessmier much kinder, “What I did to Eskel was…”

“… For the best.”

Rinah’s eyebrows furrowed in sadness, “I would never hurt any of you, but that… the Leshy had taken over, I had no choice.”

Vesemir grunted with a confirming nod, “So let it go child.”

Rinah smiled at his use of child, so tender and yet so incorrect. It had been a long time since she’d been treated like someone’s daughter. Vesemir smiled back as if he knew; his cold-grey eyes watching her curiously for a moment, as he so often did, before leaving.

------------------------

Dinner was noisy as usual, clattering cutlery and mingled voices. The air was thick with tension however, Geralt and Rinah sat at the opposite end of the room to the rest. Ciri sat by Rinah’s side too, side glancing at her every now and again with wary worry.

Suddenly Lambert's voice rose above the rest, “Can’t trust anyone these days!” he shouted in a jovial but pointed tone. His words were followed by a boom of bass-filled laughter.

Rinah rolled her eyes as Lambert peaked over his shoulder intentionally in her direction.

“This is impossible,” Rinah muttered under her breath. Geralt grunted dismissively by her side, shoveling spoonfuls of broth into his mouth, “They’ll move on.”

Sighing, she turned to him, lowering her chin so she could whisper, “They don’t want me here, and who can blame them.”

“You did what had to be done.”

A flash of the Leshy’s face, a mimic of Eskel, blinked across her memory, “I killed their brother! It doesn’t matter.”

Geralt was definitive, “Let it go.”

Rinah pushed herself up, plates clattering as her hips knocked the table as she clambered out from the bench, “I can’t.”

She stormed from the dining room, avoiding eye contact. Her feet carried her forward, cold air whipped her face as she made her way down some stone steps at the back of Kaer Morhern.

Ice filled her lungs as she breathed down, trying to loosen the rope tightening around her chest. Her mind raced like a flood rushing down a hill, pointless to stop. She couldn’t stand their eyes on her, their judgement and rightful emotions.

She had no right to be angry, no right to be upset that they hated her. The only reason not a single one hadn’t tried to take her out wasn’t because of their history together, it was because of Geralt. Her mere presence was faltering cracks in their unbreakable mountain of bond. Geralt would pay a price that wasn’t a debt he owed the longer she held on.

But where would she go? Home was a foreign concept lost on her many thousands of years ago.

Then a face appeared in her mind, a memory that only made the rope around her chest more taut. The string-plucking sound of a lute like a call across the wind.

She’d go to him.

-----------------

Geralt heard Rinah before he saw her. The clatter and her weapons strapped to her back, thudding against the leather of her heavy pack.

“Vesemir,” she called out, gesturing him closer. Vesemir's eyes raised to hers casually before he caught sight of her appearance and despite the concerned furrowing of his eyebrows he rose to his feet and crossed the room.

Geralt stood when he saw her dressed in thick armor, his feet getting closer as she asked, “Do you have a horse you could spare?”

“A moment Vesemir,” Geralt spoke, cutting off his answer. Vesemir didn’t move for a split second before a sideways glance from hard, gold eyes encouraged him away.

“What are you doing?” his graveled voice rumbled her way.

Rinah sighed, looking past him to see if Ciri was still sat at the table, she found it empty, “I need to leave this fucking place.”

Geralt raised his eyebrows just a touch, understanding her reasoning but silently questioning it. She huffed in annoyance, “Geralt, you are not my guard I can come and go as I please.”

She pushed past him, making some more headway towards the doors at the back of the room. A gloved hand grabbed her bicep and tugged, “Enough of this,” he growled.

“They do not want me here,” Rinah replied, sounding out each word, “This is only going to get worse. You deserve better… she does too,” she lowered her voice to a whisper.

Geralt rolled his eyes, so used to her constate of quick to reaction, “You’re moving too fast, give it time,” Geralt said, his voice almost lilting down towards soothing as he loomed over her blocking Rinah from the prying view of their company.

“I know where I must go,” Rinah said with tentative words, carefully eyeing Geralt to see if he understood.

“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” Ciri appeared from the darkened corridor at the side of the room, smiling with a dreamy, doe-eyed happiness.

An understanding of a memory passed between them, one night at camp whilst Geralt hunted for food. Neither had ever had friends such as this to gossip about, Ciri asking all the questions with girlish glee that an age-old creature wouldn’t think too. Like sisters, tittering over some boy, Rinah had opened her heart once more.

Softly smiling, Rinah nodded and Ciri bounced on her heels, bounding towards her, “Go after him!”

“We’ll come with you,” Geralt adjusted his armor and looked around, deciding which direction to go first. Armor or to load up Roach with supplies, Rinah could see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

Even Ciri balked at the words, staring up at him incredulously. Had the weight of her decision not weighed her down Rinah may have smiled.

Rinah shook her head, “I will do this alone.”

“Rinah,” his grumbling tone warned her, eyebrows furrowed in frustration and disagreement. She placed her hand against his chest to stop the forward step he was taking.

“You will stay here, for her,” she kept her hand against his chest, a physical stop in his tracks, and tilted her head in gesture, “And for you.”

His eyes said everything his lips did not. Squinted in disapproval as he looked down at his friend.

Rinah rolled her tongue in the hollow of her cheek, swallowing her irritation, “Need I remind you Geralt, it’s your fault he isn’t here. Do not begrudge me this.”

Her heart ached, fear of not knowing what she’d find, but she knew she had to follow this feeling. This was not a habit she made practice of very often, her years were deeply lonely before the witcher had strolled into her life. But this was different, like an invisible string was pulling her Jaskier’s way.

She’d more than likely find him in bed with some wench he’d found at a local tavern but even that brought a twitch of a smile to her lips.

Rinah raised her eyes to Geralt, her expression somewhat pleading. A wave of her forgotten grudge swirled around them, Geralt's nostrils flared as if he could smell the scent of her fear, her pain. “If you knew Yennefer was alive, you’d go after her, am I wrong?”

Geralt stayed fixed in brooding silence as she continued, “Don’t insult me by telling me it’s not the same thing.”

Rinah’s hand reached up and rested against his armored shoulder, “I have to do this,” she urged, “Even just to see him once,” she continued under her breath so only he would hear, “I don’t even have to speak to him, I just… need this.”

She had no way of explaining the ache in her heart, although she feels the level of anger that she threw at Geralt in the months after the dragon hunt may have given him a hint. They barely spoke for weeks as she tried to forgive him. And as she tried to forgive herself for not telling her friend to fuck off and running after Jaskier before he stepped one foot off that mountain.

Geralt spoke in-kind, “This is a bad idea. You don’t know where he is or even what you’ll find, he could be anywh- “

Suddenly arms were around Rinah’s waist cutting off their muted conversation and ice blonde hair smothered her, “You’ll come back?” Ciri asked softly, muffled by her cheek against Rinah’s chest.

Pulling back, Rinah grabbed Ciri’s face, hands cupping her cheeks so she would look at her, “Always, I will always come back.”

Rinah took one last knowing glance upwards towards Geralt before turning her back, collecting her sword from the table behind them. The other Witcher’s watched in silence, it was unusual to hear this hall so quiet. The air felt a little colder in the absence of rambunctious energy.

As she made her way to the door, she passed Lambert; raising an eyebrow accusingly she quietly spat, “You got your way, little lamb.”

“Rinah!” a booming voice echoed after her before Lambert could speak.

Turning on her heels she saw Geralt taking tentative steps towards her, he opened and closed his mouth as if to speak despite his face remaining steely and unfaltering.

As it had done so many times before, understanding passed wordlessly between them.

Rinah smiled tenderly before turning her back once more, calling out over her shoulder, “Our girl better be more skilled than you with a sword by the time I get back Geralt!”

#The Witcher #jaskier #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #geralt x oc #jaskier x oc #geralt friendship #Jaskier fluff #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic

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arrthurpendragon · 1 year

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@dancingsunflowers-ocs

#still learning to work with photopea #friend's fic #dancingsunflowers tag #fd: the witcher #jaskier x oc #gif manip banner #ocappreciation

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dancingsunflowers-ocs · 1 year

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𝗩𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦: 𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘜𝘴

In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred realities, in any version of reality… I’d find you and I’d chose you. Or maybe there’s only one universe where we belong together and it’s not this one. Whatever the case may be, it’s all about the ship AUs on the 9th!

↳ 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘳 x 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘥 𝘉𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦 ✸ 𝗗𝗼𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗔𝗨

Taglist: @eddysocs @megandaisy9 @carmens-garden@arrthurpendragon@misshiraeth98 @starlit-epiphany @daughter-of-melpomene @oc-challenges

#ovc2023 #the witcher #oc: sigrid browne #the witcher oc #ocappreciation #ochub #jaskier x oc #doctor who au

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xoteajays · 1 year

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thira of vattweir + that unwanted animal

there's this noise i cannot shake, well, can't you hear that scratching? there's something at the door ...

'cause that second wind is coming, love, it's coming for all we own, and on the creature scratches, it doesn't know how to get out.

(let me out!)

#ocappreciation #fyeahwitcherocs #witcher oc #jaskier x oc #oxenfurt archives #the witcher oc #this has been rocking around my head #so i had to make it #oc: thira #wednesday oc + btvs oc nonsense later tho

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arabellaininterstellarboots · 1 year

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In Your Debt

╰┈➤Pairing: Jaskier X OC

╰┈➤Requested: No

╰┈➤ Words: 905

╰┈➤ Summary: A young maid gets into trouble, luckily Jaskier is there to safe the day

╰┈➤ Genre: fluff, slight violence, cussing

The clouds outside hid the full moon, shielding the light he provided. It was eery dark outside. but that wasn't a problem for Mathilda. She was inside the bustling tavern.

The tavern was filled with life this evening. A well known Bard named Jaskier was invited for tonight- well, he more or less invited himself. But the crowd of the tavern loved his music. He was a master at what he was doing. An angelic voice with an even better lute, and a eye candy for the ladies-and some men.

Mathilda listened with one ear while she served ale and beer to the customers. Their thirst never seemed to go away, much to Mathilda’s annoyance. Especially one customer stood out. He was here since early noon, drinking away in the corner. At first, he was normal, occasionally asking for a refill, like a normal person, but the more he drank, the worse he got. He got clingy and aggressive, asking and telling her inappropriate things.

“Do you ever fucking stop?”

Mathilda bursted out. She had enough. The men around them looked toward the pair.

“Oh now you answer?” He didn't catch the aggressive undertone in her voice, acting as he did before. “Just take your ale and leave the hell!” She shouted, pushing the pitcher across the counter. The drunken farmer didn't realise he was supposed to stop the jug, so it slithered across the counter, spilling its content over the farmers clothes and breaking once it made contact with the hard wooden floor.

The pitcher sprung into a million little pieces, making the floor look like it snowed. The farmer gasped at the cold liquid on him. “You whore!” He roared.

By now the bard stopped playing, focusing his attention on the fighting pair.

“Now I’m the whore? You acted like a cheap man whore the whole evening. Suits you right. Now get out of here!” She yelled back, angrily brushing her hair out of her face. “Oh no, I will not!” In one swift move, the farmer picked up the biggest shard he could find and threw it at the young barmaid.

Mathilda didn't react quickly enough, the shard pierced her arm like an arrow. She let out a horrifying scream at the sight of her arm and the pain she felt along with it. “Oi!” Another male voice said and the farmer turned around to the source of the voice and was met with a punch in his face.

The bard shook off the blood that stuck to his fist now, kicking the unconscious farmer aside and making his way behind the counter to the injured barmaid.

“Hello there” he carefully said, gently taking one of her hands in his. “Hello” She answered, not looking up from her arm. “May I help you with that?” he asked, examining the wound. Mathilda wasn't able to form a sentence, so she just nodded.

Jaskier noticed her face getting paler by the second so he supported her by holding her unharmed arm and placing his other arm around her waist, guiding her out the tavern.

He found Roach outside “The Dancing Goose”, the tavern he was suppose to play in, so he shouted for his friend.

“Geralt!”

“Gerald where the fuck are you?!”

Jaskier shouted louder the second time, feeling her weight drop more onto him.

He heard a grunt behind him. “Geralt, thank the gods!” he huffed and turned around with Mathilda, who was slowly loosing conisnous from the pain.

“What did you do, Jaskier?”

“What did I- Geralt, I did absolutely nothing! Now help me!” He scoffed, repositioning the woman at his side.

Gerald and Jaskier sat in their shared room, waiting for the woman on the bed to wake up. Mathilda stirred and with a jolt, she was sitting upright in the bed.

“Woah there, calm your horses young lady!” Jaskier jumped up from the seat and walked towards her side, carefully crouching next to the bed.

“What have you done?” She whispered, her eyes fixed on the cloth that was wrapped around her arm.

“Why does everyone instantly assume it’s my fault?”

Geralt let out an amused grunt and Jaskier glared at him. “You were attacked Lady. This man brought you to me to fix you up. You’re in his dept” Gerald explained before he left the room, calming Mathilda a little.

“What's your name?” Jaskier asked.

“Mathilda” she croaked , picking at the cloth. “Leave it there.” Jaskier took her hands in his. “My name is Jaskier, or Julien. Whatever you prefer”

“Julien” she tested his name on her lips, whispering. The bard smiled a little, his name from her lips sounded so right. “You’re the bard from the Tavern, right?” She looked up for the first time, at him, his soft blue eyes looking right back at hers.

His eyes were like passion on ice. A frozen lake in the most beautiful winter wonderland. His eyes looked like fire on ice, if you can imagine that. A certain passion burning in them.

Jaskier was starstruck. He never saw eyes like hers. She had all the colors. A ring of blue on the outside, melting into an emerald green that turned into a soft golden hazel color. Her lashes covered her eyes a bit, but he was still able to see her mysterious eyes.

A soft “Thank you” rolled from her lips, while she still gazed at him.

“You’re very welcome.”

Jaskier found his new muse. He was certain of it.

#jaskier #jaskier fanfic #jaskier x oc #the witcher #gerald of rivia #jaskier the bard #jaskier the witcher

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littlecrow-rogue · 11 days

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Hey!!

I would like to write some Jaskier x Reader one shots.

Does anyone have any suggestion or some requests to read with him?

If so and you would like me to write them please don’t hesitate to share them.

XoX - V

Ps.: I am still working on the next chapter for the Mötley Crüe fanfiction. I am not giving up on that story just didn’t had time to write this week.

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andisinger · 2 years

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The Black Crow

Ch.8 Word Count: 2463 Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Witcher like gore

Sitting in the tavern once more, my mind tossed and reeled about ways to tame this vicious beast. I had no previous experience with anything so large, let alone that could fly. Feeling lost, I shook my head and wiped my brow before continuing to drink the swill they called ale. The many different people inside the tavern caught my eye; how each and every one of them were so different from the last. Geralt stared at me, his brow furrowed as usual and his shoulders broodingly large.

“Do you know what to do?” He asked. I shook my head in silent response.

“I have never tamed something that could fly and it would take me far too long to return to Myomel and bring someone that could.”

Geralt hummed then cursed under his breath. His golden eyes falling from me once more.

“What is its name?” He asked, his own fist full of the ale before touching it to his lips.

“A Fell Beast.” I told him, my eyes taking their turn to look the Witcher over. He sighed and his lips went thin.

“I’ve only heard about them when I was a child. I know of the things that they can do, if I could tame it,” I paused, mentally searching for a way to be able to complete the statement but I could only shake my head at the end.

“You would have to give up your wargs.” The Witcher stated. I closed my eyes for a moment not wanting to face the truth.

“I would have to kill them all.”

The night came and went, my mind continued to spiral with the thoughts of what I would have to do. I thought if there were another way where they could all live, if I would be able to keep them all; then the thought hit me. I would have to marry the person that also has Fell Beasts. It had been many years since anyone in Myomel was able to tame such a creature; a massive beast with wings that spanned nearly as tall as the mountains, long necks with sharp spines like spears, teeth the size of swords, tails could whip and impale. Each encounter with a Fell Beast would end in disaster. I shook my head, unable to find a way to keep all of my beasts as well as gain a new kind of beast.

Should I tame the Fell Beast while I have my Wargs, they would all be killed and I would be exiled and never allowed to tame another beast. I wiped my brow and shut my eyes while my mouth occupied itself with another swig of stale ale.

“You once said you could marry an outsider, could you marry someone here then teach them to tame?” Geralt inquired. Leaning back on the stool, I looked at him through the brim of my hood.

“I don’t remember any laws against it, but it takes a lifetime to be able to teach an outsider to tame a feral cat much less a Fellbeast.”

“If we allow these people to go up there, they will all be killed.” I stated. Geralt grunted as he swallowed a mouthful of the swil.

“That’s not my problem.”

“You could be killed.” I stated, my eyes holding tight to my thumb as it stroked the side of the mug. Geralt paused for a moment, his head tilted towards me and a small smirk spread across the corner of his mouth.

“Does that matter to you?” He asked. He placed his hand on his thigh as he faced me with his chest.

Lifting my brow, I turned to look at him again.

“If it weren’t for the spirit, I would say no but I unfortunately need you alive.”

“For now.” He scoffed then finished his drink.

“For now.” I repeated with a soft smile then finished my own drink. The minutes passed and I couldn’t take being in the boisterous tavern any longer so I walked out into the moonlight with trails of smoke following behind me with every breath. My mind continued to race all throughout the night while I was kept safe in the warmth of my four wargs. While my right hand gently stroked the fur on Khun’s face as he slept, I stared up at the stars and the passing clouds. If I could get to Myomel then come back, but the beast would be dead by then or everyone else would be dead; If I could marry an outsider, I would have to go to Myomel for the ceremony; it was a night full of if’s and I could but no real answers.

The better part of me looked at my creatures and took in every detail of the way their fur flowed in the cold harsh wind, and along with it, came the memories of every second that we had spent together. I knew what I had to do and come morning, it would be done.

Before the sun arose on a new day, I was heading up the mountain again, following closely to the long tracks set by the Fellbeast. My feet crunched the snow and ice that capped the hard stone. With my bow in my hand and my quiver on my side surrounded by all of the pouches once held by my Wargs, I felt weighed down. I feared for my life but knew that I was doing what needed to be done. Pausing for a moment, I took note of where the tracks seemed to pause then dig deeper. The beast had flown from one mountain top to another, most likely it was more of a jump than a quick flight. The moonlight did little to show me the way to the creature but by luck of the spirits, I found a dark cave on the side of the mountain nearby.

Holding my bow proudly, my heart pounded in my chest as I wandered into this dark abyss. This cave went deeper than I previously imagined, or perhaps I was taking such small careful steps that I hadn’t noticed. Deep inside the cave, a noise bellowed; a deep growl that shook me to my bones. My eyes widened as my bow slightly dropped. The beast had begun to take its steps towards me, its small eyes following me as I backed out of the cave and into the moonlight again.

I could see the beast more clearly now; the long neck with reactive spikes and scales that waved like the ocean. It’s jaw that rattled while it hissed at me. The wings that were tattered from age and used like a ship's sails as it sailed to and fro. Kneeling slowly in front of the creature, I placed my bow on the unstable ground of pebbles and stones. Were I to use it, the arrows would be reflected like water from a duck’s back. I would have to go about this quickly because the night had reached its darkest part before the sun would rise and call the Fell Beast away.

I extended my hand, palm facing towards its gaping and drooling mouth while speaking softly. Why had I expected anything less than being whipped with its long tail? I had invaded its home and put an arrow in its face I thought while the Fellbeast had launched itself towards me. While I laid flat, I tried my best to avoid the lashing tail but to no avail; it hit me along the side of my body and sent my flying nearly back down the mountain. Landing suddenly on a large rock, I heard multiple cracks and snaps from multiple bones in my body. Before I could scream, the beast was on my again; it’s massive mouth opened above me.

I could think of nothing else to do than throw the bag of Dragon’s breath into its throat then leap out of the way. My left leg fell completely limp as I rolled away to see the leather pouch ripple and roll its way down the throat. I knew that I couldn’t run nor fight this beast so I held out my hand once more in a poor attempt for peace. Instantly, the Fell Beasts' reflective white eyes grew dark and its head hung limp with a gentle sway as it bellowed lowly in front of me. I smirked to myself and stood as cautiously as I could before touching the creature’s nose. The Fellbeast leaned into my palm hesitantly, it allowed itself to steady its breath which was hot and smelled of sulfur as it wafted into my hood.

I continued to slide my hand down the sharp scales along the length of its neck, before it lifted its head to peek at me and watch me while occasionally blinking its second eyelid. The second eyelid was clear, something most flying creatures had to protect the vital organ from attack or damage while it flew or fed. The scales felt like large chainmail beneath my palm, it only had a back pair of legs while it was able to use its wingtips as fingers to climb or hold onto its meal. It gurgled deep in its chest as I stepped under its wing. I knew I didn’t have much time so I stepped back in front of the creature and it watched every step I took before opening its jaws again.

A hot spread of steaming breath released by this beast steamed my face and forced me to close my eyes. Perhaps this wasn’t a threat and it meant something more peaceful. I copied the action the best that I could and breathed hard on the creature's nose. The Fellbeast couldn’t close his eyes but his second eyelid swiped over the sensitive spots again.

“Are you hungry?” I asked while slowly reaching towards my back beside the hilt of my sword for a large chunk of salted meat. I held it in front of the beast; it’s nostrils contracted as it smelt the meat.

The massive jaws opened slightly and out rolled a long white tongue that grasped at the comparatively small chunk. It choke it down hesitantly, its throat squelching as the meat was escorted by its muscles down its throat. I chuckled to myself while I hoped with all my pounding heart and limping leg that I had been able to calm this creature; I reached my hand out once more as I saw the darkness retreating back into the pupil to reveal the white light, almost as if this creature had the moon in it’s eyes. The beast’s nose bumped into my palm again but no other noises came from its long throat. I cautiously reached behind my back again for more meat whilst keeping my hand against its nose then fed the creature when it was aware.

The greedy beast took the salted meat before somewhere back up on the mountain, a long screech tore through the stones; the Fellbeasts head perked towards the sound, its long neck shook and shivered as it responded to the call. I knew why this creature was here and why it had done its best to be left alone. The Fellbeast looked towards me again and flashed the second lid over its eyes again. The Fellbeast stood on its legs, rearing before me then stretched its massive wings as open as it could to reveal a sensitive spot beneath its bony rib cage.

I could see the beast was starving as the sun had begun to spread its light on the deep part of the valley below. Should this beast have chosen me, I promised the spirit that I would hunt well with it, give it as much life as it could hold. The long neck snaked down towards me while it fell back towards the ground again. I knew that I would never be able to heal this creature even as badly as I wanted to so I decided to leave this creature be; allow it to live out its life on these mountains. Shaking my head, I wandered back down towards the tavern limping and no bow to go with my arrows.

As soon as I could see the tavern, with the lanterns still glowing their soft orange light, my leg couldn’t handle my weight any longer and I fell to my knees and onto my hands. Everything burned from my nose and mouth down to my chest and inside my lungs. I did my best to roll over to sit my ass on the rough gravel with my head hung low. Tears had begun to sting my eyes and my breaths came out in a high pitched wheeze.

“Warg rider.” A deep voice called behind me. I couldn’t look at him; I tried to be more than the warg rider, I wanted to be. I was willing to break Myomelian law to save this world.

The gravel around me shuffled as the Witcher rustled his feet and bent his knees to kneel near me.

“What happened? Where are your beasts?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with each other. I shook my head and grabbed the top of my hood ready to tear from my scalp and reveal who I was to the entire world. The Witcher’s hand rested on top of mine, pausing me from breaking my own law.

“Can you walk?” He questioned. I couldn’t speak, I could only weep into the falling darkness around us. Luckily, I managed to shake my head slightly so he hummed and took me into his arms.

My left leg hung limp and swayed with each step that he took towards the inn. The Witcher took me to his room; which was bare. Only a bed and a bath with nothing more than a few candles carelessly littered around the room. He placed me on the bed and sat in front of me.

“What happened?�� Geralt asked as I dropped my hood from my head.

“I couldn’t do it.” I told him, a gentle stream of tears falling from my eyes.

“Where are your beasts?” He asked, not breaking his straight forwardness. Shaking my head, I couldn’t remember what I had done with them. My leg stung, it felt like the bone was sizzling beneath the skin. I grabbed at the covered flesh and hissed at my own contact.

Geralt pushed my hand away before pressing on the leg with a surprising gentleness.

“It feels like it’s broken. What happened?” He snapped. He stood at his full height beside me. His golden eyes bore into mine while he groaned and hummed again. Geralt moved around the room, grabbing his coat then fleeing out the door while leaving me behind.

#geralt x reader #Witcher #the witcher #jaskier imagine #jaskier x oc #geralt z rivii #geralt imagine #witcher fic

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chrispineisagoddess · 2 years

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[The Witcher] Warning: big sad

Jaskier moving on with a handsome young elf who’s a very skilled warrior. He’s also very protective of Jaskier(especially regarding Geralt). Geralt falling for Jaskier after the bard moves on and can’t really do anything about it but feel sad about it. Jaskier inviting him, Ciri and even Yennefer to their wedding. Jaskier asks Geralt to be his best man even(idk how weddings worked back then but that’s how it’s gonna go XD) and he can’t turn down Jaskier. The day on their wedding, Jaskier comes to sit beside Geralt after dancing so much. He’s dressed in a dark blue outfit with a flower crown on top his head. He looks beautiful. He confesses to the Witcher that he used to be in love with him and that makes Geralt freeze. He also tells the Witcher despite everything that happened between them, he’s happy that their still friends and that he cherishes Geralts friendship. They both watch as Ciri dances with Jaskiers new husband. He may hate that he has Jaskier but he knows he’s good for the bard. Geralt does not confess of his love for the human but says something he’s should’ve said for a long time. “I’m glad that you’re my friend Jaskier.” That makes Jaskier smile and Geralt watches as the love of his life walks off to join the party once again. Despite this probably being the saddest moment of Geralts love life, he decides from now on, he’ll never disregard what he has with Jaskier ever again.

I was writing a more detailed Ver of this when I thought I could make a shorter Ver and it still turns out to be a very long paragraph. 😂 also I like imagine Jaskier ending up with an elf.

#The Witcher #Elf x Jaskier #Jaskier x Elf #Jaskier x OC #OC x Jaskier #Sad Geralt

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shad0w-ink · 2 years

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OKAY SO, IMPORTANT THING, I recently got my hands on Clip Studio Paint and I am still getting the hand of things.

okay, now for the ideas for this-

Both Geralt and Jaskier's designs are a mix of Netflix's The Witcher and the games and some other versions I've seen, PLUS Geralt's pointy ears wich were a spontaneous decision on my part

this came from an idea where Jaskier and Geralt save a young sorcerer/warlock/mage person who gives them the "gift" of shifting into animals(the wolf for geralt and the bird that I made Jaskier into is a Blue-Gray gnatcatcher)

THERE IS A CATCH, everytime they turn into their animal self, although they retain their personality and their knowledge of people they've met, they go off of animal instincts most of the time, although they aren't complete animals since they are technecally still human

Geralt is a very affectionate wolf and Jaskier is DELIGHTED

Bird!Jask keeps bringing Geralt knicknacks like flowers and pebbles and other stuff (in the drawing he is holding a buttercup)

Jaskier's ensamble is blue with a bunch of Buttercups as decoration

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #geralt z rivii #the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt #all the witchers #the witcher au #jaskier #JULIAN PANKRATZ #yes geralt is wearing leather pants #yes Jaskier bought them for him #as y'all know #y'all are free to use any of these ideas for fics or fanart #just like send them to me cuz I want to see them #SORRY IVE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG IVER BEEN WORKING ON OC'S AND ORIGINAL STORIES

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 4 months

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A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: A Witcher/House of the Dragon Crossover

The sister of the Bard Jaskier, and a talented bard in her own right, had came to Westeros initially to make a name for herself. In her ambition, she ended up catching the attention of a certain Rogue Prince whose ambitions may outweigh her own.

When the unexpected happens, she must return to the Continent to seek out the white haired witcher and hope their past history will garner reason to offer her protection.

But will the White Wolf's silver sword be enough to stave off the wrath and heat of the Dragon?

Self-reader insert style

House of the Dragon character belong to George R.R. Martin and Witcher characters belong to Andrzej Sapkowski

Content Warning: +18, minors do NOT interact

Incest, DUB-CON/NON-CON, Mature Themes

Violence, swearing, sexism, slut shaming (plus/minus whore shaming) and power dynamics that are par to the course for both shows

Any other triggers I feel need mentioning will be added to the start of whatever chapter I write.

Also if you repost, be sure to cite either this page or my Wattpad page

Bonus Chapters

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11 and 11.5

Chapter 12 and 12.5

Chapter 13

Chapter 14 and 14.5

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17 and 17.5

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20 and 20.5

Chapter 21

Chapter 22 and 22.5

Chapter 23 and 23.5

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26 and 26.5

Chapter 27

Chapter 28 and 28.5

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32 and 32.5

Chapter 33

Chapter 34 and 34.5

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38 and 38.5

Chapter 39 and 39.5

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

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navya04 · 10 months

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at least jaskier is bi. its like i always say. at least jaskier is bi. at the end of the day. Jaskier is bi. dont cry ok? Jaskier is bi. at the end of the day. Jaskier is bi. when all else fails. Jaskier is bi. we'll always have. Jaskier is bi

#netflix #the witcher #jaskier #witcher oc #witcher season 3 #prince radovid #radovid #geralt of rivia #empress ciri #witcher yennefer #the bard #bisexual #pride #lgbtq #lgbtq community #lgbtqia+#radskier #radovid x jaskier

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sayafics · 10 months

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Soul-bonds & Heartaches - Chapter III

I apologise for the very long wait for this chapter, in all honesty I had no idea how to move forward from Chapter II but this felt right, and it felt true to the relationship between existing characters, to an extent.

Geralt is tied to these two women in two distinctly different ways, and it's only now that he has all the information, he can make the decision he needs to. But that doesn't come without its consequences, which subsequently leads to other consequences.

I apologise again for the long wait, and hope to update with another chapter soon! I truly hope you guys enjoy this chapter! <333

TW: (slight?) angst

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Masterlist

Andromeda had thought they had come to an understanding. She had fallen asleep with a smile on her face and hope in her heart.

She dreamed of waking up to the sun heating her face as it slowly rose, opening her eyes to ashes of a well-worn fire as a gentle breeze brushed through her hair before her gaze met Geralt's.

She thought they would've exchanged gentle smiles, would've looked for excuses throughout the day to brush past each other, and engaged in small conversations hidden from the sight of others. And then, maybe when they had gotten too distracted or brushed too close to death on one adventure or the next, they would've exchanged a kiss. A small, hesitant kiss that they poured all their emotions into, where they succumbed to their desires and the strings of destiny.

Instead, she had awoken to burning lips and a quivering heart. She knew. The moment the feeling spread over her, she knew.

Andromeda couldn't open her eyes in fear of what she would find.

Geralt and Yennefer locked in a battle of passion? The two carressing each other in gentle affection?

She feared she would find a liar and a coward in the place where she had seen her Geralt in the glowing embers of last night's fire.

But she couldn't escape his senses.

Unbeknownst to her, as she curled in on herself, eyes clenched shut as tears welled in her eyes, and she pretended to sleep as she stifled her laboured breaths, Geralt knew she was awake. And he knew she felt his betrayal just like she had every other time.

His soul roiled in its place, his heart burned in guilt. It was not what it seemed.

***

Yennefer had woken up before the rest had, before the sun had risen and its warmth had replaced what was lost as the campfire died out.

Geralt waited for her to say something as she sat up, to say 'good morning' or to say she would take watch instead, but she simply sat and stared.

He lost his patience quite quickly, feeling the way her stare burned into the side of his head as he forced his gaze away from Rory and onto her instead.

She looked amused.

"What?"

His words were gruff, full of curiosity and annoyance. He knew he had no right to be annoyed. He had pursued Yennefer just as much as she pursued him. But it was different then.

Now, knowing that his Rory felt the same about him as he did about her, knowing she had been longing for him from the day they met, that her heart yearned for him, everything changed.

Andromeda could have ran, every time he had bed another woman, she could have walked away. And even yesterday, she could have turned away without giving him a second glance.

But she was full of compassion and sincerity, and she gave away chances as easily as she gave away her heart. It had just taken him too long to realise it was him she had gifted it to.

Yennefer didn't answer him, instead making her way to her feet as she strutted his way, her movements slow and sensual. She was so sure of herself, so confident she would get what she wanted. And Geralt was scared that, somehow, she would.

She stood behind him, hands on his shoulders as she leaned down and pressed her breasts into his back, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "you look tense. I could help you."

Her voice was low and sultry, and Geralt from a few days ago would have given into her words immediately, but the Geralt that sat in front of her now only grimaced at her words. His shoulders raised as he pulled himself from her embrace, standing to his full height as he turned on her - "no."

"No?" Yennefer was shocked, sure she had seen the looks the two exchanged, the way they smiled at one another when they thought the other wasn't looking, but it had never made Geralt reject her.

"No," Geralt had the knack to look at least somewhat apologetic, his eyes furrowing as he looked down at Yennfer in sympathy, "the circumstances have changed."

"Geralt, you told me that destiny tied us. That destiny wanted us together."

"I was wrong, Yen. Destiny didn't pick you, I did. But I can't keep choosing you anymore."

"Geralt..." her hand came up to rest at his cheek, her eyes pooling with tears as she shook her head in denial, "you love me."

Geralt let her keep her hand on his face, let her take what she needed as he broke the heart of another woman he cared for. He shook his head, "I don't. I love her."

It was a whispered confession, his voice shaky as the truth came out, and Geralt found a weight lift of his chest at the revelation, "I love her," he repeated.

"I'm sorry, Yennefer," she felt her heart break further at the sound of her name on his lips, "I can't love you, I can't pick you."

Yennefer's other hand reached up for his cheek, both now cradling his face as she ran her fingers over familiar lines and scars. She pulled him closer, but he resisted.

"Please, Geralt. Just one more time."

Her voice was desperate, he could smell the defeat permeating off of her, and when he gave in and brushed his lips against her own, he could taste it in her tears too.

The kiss was familiar, it was easy. It was a goodbye.

***

Geralt pulled away from Yennefer, as though her lips against his own had burned him the way it burned Andromeda.

He felt anger festering in the pits of his stomach, he hated himself for giving in so easily, for hurting Rory again.

He wanted to go to her, to plead with her to listen to him and know that it meant nothing to him. That it was a goodbye for Yennefer and not a betrayal to her. That he loves her. He needs her.

But with Yennefer's hands holding his face once more, and Jaskier rousing from his sleep, he had again lost his chance, and perhaps he had now lost her.

***

As they packed their gear, the air was stifled with tension. As Yennefer, Geralt, and Andromeda stayed away from each other, it did not take much guessing from Jaskier and Cirilla to realise what had probably happened.

Cirilla observed her aunt, worry colouring her eyes as she watched her move with no real purpose, her eyes empty as if every ounce of hope and life had been washed out.

Geralt was like a father to Cirilla, she craved his affection and even more his approval. But she knew that Geralt had to be the one responsible for her aunt's state, and she couldn't help the anger that bubbled in her chest as the minutes ticked by and Andromeda lost more of herself to the quiet around her.

Still, no one spoke as they carried on their journey, marching through the barren-land with their rations untouched and their stomachs full of lead.

Cirilla stood next to Andromeda, holding her hand tightly as she kept her aunt close to her side and safe. All the while, she would glare at Geralt every time she noticed his gaze stray towards Andromeda, forcing him to look back at the path ahead as he wiped any essence of emotion from his face.

But every once in a while, his expression would become drowned once more, and he would find himself throwing agonised glances her way.

Cirilla remained unaware of the guilty glances Yennefer threw their way.

***

When they had reached the nearest village, it didn't take long for stories about a nasty group of ghouls at the local cemetery that had been eating dead corpses and unknowing citizens, to spread.

It had gotten so bad that the people of the village they had come across refused to leave their homes after dark. So when they had reached a tavern, after a silent agreement they could all do with some hot food and rest, Geralt found himself agreeing to a large pouch of silver and a long, comfortable stay in the tavern in exchange for slaying the beasts.

He had agreed easily, of course. Needing something to channel his pent-up energy into, the anger and guilt that festered in him and the anguish that settled in his heart every time Andromeda brushed past him like he was not there, every time he tried to speak to her and failed.

Yennefer was still here. She couldn't leave knowing she was why the group had become so broken and frail. Perhaps her leaving would have made it easier for Andromeda to breathe, but it wouldn't lessen the pain Yennefer had caused.

She loves Geralt, and she wants to see him happy. He chose her every time before that day in the tavern, but she knew every time he had picked her there was a part of him that yearned for Andromeda.

She tried to hide from the truth in their moans and sighs, tried to find solace in their pleasurable escapades, tried to make Andromeda jealous, and assert the idea that Geralt was her's.

But he wasn't.

He may have picked Yennefer because of the cards destiny had given him, but Andromeda's name was scrawled across his heart. He needed Andromeda in a way Yennefer could never replace.

A heart-breaking revelation she had slowly been coming to peace with.

She would leave the group in peace, but she wanted to fix her mess first.

***

Darkness had drawn over the sky when Geralt prepared to leave, and as he sheathed his sword Cirilla couldn't find it within herself to plead with him to let her join, as she had done so many times before.

Cirilla couldn't leave Andromeda, couldn't pick Geralt over her.

Andromeda may not have been her blood, but she was the only family Cirilla had left from the life she lived before.

Geralt didn't try and push Cirilla to join. He didn't ask Jaskier to play bait, knowing he was disappointed in him, too. And he couldn't look towards Yennefer, fearful that one glance would confirm every terrified thought Andromeda had running through her head.

He had smelt the stench of agony on her. It was heavy and brittle and still so sweet in a way that was perfect for her. She was beautiful even when she was in pain.

He took one last glance towards his ragged group of friends, a longing gaze marked for the woman who had stolen his heart and burned her presence into his soul. He lowered his head in shame, gruffly clearing his throat as he spoke, "you should all get some rest. Don't wait for me."

He walked out, his form much more quainter than any of them had seen it before.

A few moments of silence had passed, and then it looked like Yennefer was going to speak.

But Andromeda beat her to it, sensing the conversation looming ahead she pushed herself up from her seat, "I'm going to my room."

She didn't wait for any reply, walking sluggishly to her room as her thoughts threatened to drown her.

Some distance away, Geralt circled the cemetery he entered, waiting for movement. Nothing came.

He needed bait, but there was no one around but himself. So he pulled his small dagger, pressing the knife into his hand and dragging a cut across his palm.

Replacing the dagger, he squeezed his hand closed, relishing in the pain as blood dripped into the soil beneath his feet.

He waited a breath, and then he heard it. Soft growling from all around him as the beasts scuttled in a frenzy.

He waited for them to attack, always on the move, and he pushed them back with his sword and sigils. He had fought enough ghouls to battle them with ease, waiting for one to separate from the group, snarling loud in rage as it got ready to attack, making it a priority to kill before repeating.

Geralt continued his dance, never giving the ghouls a long enough break to catch him off guard and never working too hard to break a sweat. One by one, he hacked down each monster until he was the only beast left standing.

The butchered corpses of seven ghouls laid at his feet, satisfaction filling his gut as he considered his work. He raised his head to the sky, taking in the darkness as he realised not much time would have passed since he left, but there also wasn't long until sunrise.

Geralt couldn't stand having to go back in and face his companions, a part of him was even scared to.

Scared they would leave him for his transgressions, hate him, and abandon him just like his mother had once done.

His heart sank to his stomach, never had he felt such emotions, strong enough to rock him back and forth between the idea of running away or facing his problems head on.

He didn't know what to do.

Until he did.

It was still night, and Andromeda hated the dark. So it would be unlikely she was asleep.

Perhaps she was stargazing, a hobby she was so fond of. Geralt recalls the way her eyes glittered as she peered at the starlight, the way she emanated joy and delight as she pointed out constellations and spoke of the legends and fables behind them, how her heart raced when her eyes found his and her eyes would track his face as though she had found her favourite constellation in him.

He needed to find her. He needed to see her and speak to her and explain.

Maybe it wouldn't help, maybe it would make her hate him more. But the weight of such a confession sat unbearable on his shoulders, he needed her to know.

To know why he kissed Yennefer, to know of his guilt and of his sorrow. But mostly, to know of his truth.

Geralt could no longer hide behind cowardice - a truth badly disguised as indifference and intimidation.

Geralt found his steps hurrying back to the tavern, his footfalls heavy as he forced himself not to take off in a sprint. He pushed and pushed until he found himself at the tavern doors, never taking a breath to stop as he pushed through, tearing past a silent trio huddled by a fire and finding his way to the room he knew Andromeda would be in.

Faintly he hears Jaskier exclaim from his place by the fire, "fucking, finally!" And he feels a ghost of a smile stretch across his face.

A smile that sinks when he finds himself face-to-face with the door that separated him and the woman he had given his heart to, years before he had even realised.

Geralt wasn't sure if he should knock or barge in like he had done at the other tavern not so long ago. He wasn't sure if he should call out to her or simply get onto his knees and beg from outside.

His hand rested on the doorknob, steady and gentle as he twisted the door and creaked it open, "Rory?"

His voice was quiet, a hopeful whisper that was left unanswered.

As the door opened wider, Geralt could feel his heart sink at the realisation of what he had missed on his wild dash here. Something he should have realised miles before he had even reached the tavern once more.

He couldn't smell her sweet, sickly scent, the absence of orange blossoms and jasmine weighing heavy in his heart.

He couldn't hear her quiet breathing as she drowned herself in her imagination or her ragged breaths as she tried to hold back tears.

He couldn't hear the rustle of fabric as she fidgeted and picked at the loose strings in her clothes, or the sound of her comb brushing through her hair, or her huffs of boredom, or groans of irritations. Nothing.

Geralt could no longer hear the sound of her heartbeat.

He pushed open the door, his mind almost out of control as his actions became desperate. The room was bare, even of Andromeda's belongings and opposite him sat a lonely window, its sheer curtain billowing in the winds.

Rory had left. And it was all his fault.

Geralt's eyes burned, but he no longer had the strength to hold back his tears and let them fall freely down his face.

He walked the rest of the way in the room, sitting down heavily on the bed and basking in the faint smell of orange blossoms that surrounded him, and hidden between them was a scent he recognised as determination.

Geralt looked down at his hands, bloodied and destroyed, and found himself imagining a life where he hadn't lost Andromeda to his stupid mistakes.

He would fix this. He had to.

Taglist: @welliguessiwritethingsnow @kneelforloki @xicesam @lovesickollie @supersoilderswhxre @henryownsme @makemydaysworthit @pookiesnatcher @starlightaurorab

#geralt x oc #geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt x yennefer #geralt of rivera #geralt of rivia #geralt of river x reader #geralt x ofc #geralt x you #the witcher #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla of cintra

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