#sad uncle jaskier

[tielmamon]

They stiffle another set of giggles as Jaskier and Ciri hide behind a few trees, spying on Geralt and Yen as they navigate their complicated little partnership once again. The young warrior bites her tongue, beaming at how Jaskier pitches his voice a few octaves higher, trying and failing to mimic Yen. In her opinion, she's say he sounds more like he's been kicked in the balls than anything else.

"You're unbelivable!" He shakes his head dramatically.

"You're delusional!" She almost coughs at the gruffness of her own voice.

They smile and for once in a long, long time Ciri feels...light. She feels like she's actually 15 and not the continent's number one target or the actual harbinger of the apocalypse. She sees Jaskier smile as bright as sunshine, in Geralt's words though she might just secure her death if she ever told anyone that. Not for the first time, she feels an immese wave of gratitute towards him. This silly man who always tries, no matter how grim and depressing everything gets, to make her smile. To reassure her, to talk to her as simply her- not a witcher in training, not a novice mage, not a future queen-to-be.

Once upon a time, she might have hated him for speaking to her like this, like she was a child. Now? She finds herself deeply comforted by that, by him and his words.

She suspects Geralt felt a similar sentiment when he and Jaskier travelled together.

In the distance, they see Yen reach to cradle Geralt's cheek, the other leaning into her touch. Such a horridly cheesy scene to witness, Ciri thinks with a hint of fondness and alot of disgust for her parents-of-suprise. Another quip forms on her tongue but just as it escapes, she turns to her companion and-

Oh.

His face falls, demeanor more serious and...sad. Ciri, with creeping concern realizes that his eyes turn glassy. Jaskier's eyes stay glued on the pair, in a way that is tired. Like he's seen this moment a thousand times before.

"I forgive you...for your various foolish words and deeds. For your lack of faith and hope. For your obstinancy. Doggedness..." This time, Jaskier says these words in his own voice, slightly shakey and whispered. At this point, Ciri is no longer looking at the pair infront of them. She's seen the same forlorn look on both of her parent's faces before, when they were hopping between homes. Everytime Yen looks at Geralt when he doesn't let her in the house. Everytime Geralt reads another letter tacked on the door smelling of lilac and gooseberries.

Everytime she asks Geralt why he stopped travelling with his bard after decades of companionship.

Heartbreak. That's what Jaskier looks like, Ciri realizes. Suddenly, she's overcome with the urge to hug the man beside her, comfort him like how he has to her. The two kiss and she doesn't dare look at Jaskier when they do.

"Jaskier?" She notes the heavy pause before he eventually answers.

"Yes, dear?" He's smiling again, she can hear. How real it is, she can't say. Reaching for his arm, she squeezes.

"Let's go. I'm bored." She hears a chuckle before she feels him get up. They both can't help but glance back at the couple once more, now in an intimate embrace. Ciri pushes the bard towards their cottage, ignoring the sniffle she hears or the quick wipe of hid cheek disgused as a scratch.

"Come on, you deviant." They walk back to the cottage in silence.

Part 2 (x)

#geraskier #the witcher #jaskier #cirilla of cintra #geralt x jaskier #geralt #little fix it #is it a fix it if its still sad? #sad uncle jaskier #sad niece ciri #the pining was so strong during this scene #fanfic

[cyanmountains]

The song that Jaskier sings to Ciri in Ep 4 might be from the "A Little Sacrifice" short story (or at least a reference to it) :')

#could be one of essi's songs #or the ballad he wrote about essi in that short story #essi was like a sister to him imo so i wonder if ciri reminds him of essi #making myself sad with these theories #i love the jaskier and ciri scenes this season #best uncle #the witcher #the witcher spoilers #ciri #jaskier #my post

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Modern au - Vesemir royally screws up by driving Aiden away.

“Aiden.”

“I’m sorry Lambert. Please believe me I am so fucking sorry, but I can’t keep on like this and I’m not going to be the boyfriend who makes you choose between me or your family.”

“So your making the choice for me. Real fucking nice.”

Aiden gave him a sad, teary smile as he threw his duffel bag into the trunk of his beat up, third hand car, “Your family’s everything to you, Pup. Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t regret cutting ties with any of them.”

“You’re family too!”

“It’s been made pretty clear time and again that I’m not and never will be as far as certain people are concerned. I love you Lambert, but there’s only so many times I can take being made to feel like some lowlife criminal every time I interact with your dad.”

Lambert felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth when he realised that he couldn’t even argue that. As he had when he and Lambert had first started dating, Aiden had been upfront about the shit he’d been involved with when he was younger and new to trying to fend for himself after ageing out of the system when the conversation at their first meeting had turned towards questions about his family and childhood. Ever since, Vesemir had taken every opportunity to weaponise it against the younger man - despite the fact that Aiden’s life could very well have been that of any of his own sons had fate played out differently. Lambert, Geralt and Eskel had been some of the lucky ones in the Care Kid Lottery. Aiden, not so much.

Every time, Lambert had asked him to give Vesemir another chance, promising it would be different this time (it had taken him awhile to warm up to Jaskier too, and he was a god damn ray of sunshine) and every time, Vesemir had made him a liar.

Aiden moved his arms awkwardly, looking like he was trying to decide if going in for a hug would be a wise idea until a couple of tears finally fell. He wiped them away hastily as he stepped back, opening the driver’s side door, “Goodbye, Lambert. I wish you every happiness.”

Lambert could only stand and stare as his every happiness drove away down the dirt track.

He heard the front door creak open followed by multiple pairs of footsteps, because of course they couldn’t even let him get his heart stomped on in private – they’d probably all had their noses pressed to the kitchen window. Jaskier was stood shoulder to shoulder with Geralt, looking like he was making a huge effort not to start crying himself while his brother was grim faced. Eskel strode towards him, giving him the same heartbroken look as he had when Lambert was newly seven and had casually informed them he’d never gotten birthday presents before.

“Shit, Lambert.”

He went to pull him into a hug which Lambert immediately ducked away from, “Don’t Esk. Just...fucking don’t .” He pleaded, voice breaking as he stomped back towards the house, jabbing a finger at Vesemir with a snarl as he did so. The old man had yet to react to anything that had just transpired, despite being the cause.

“I am never going to forgive you for this.”

Vesemir sat hunched over in his customary chair by the fireside, elbows resting on his knees as he stared into the tumbler of vodka he’d been nursing as his little granddaughter, Ciri, busied herself making popcorn garlands at the table. It had been over a month and he’d yet to hear anything directly from Lambert no matter how many times he tried to call or how many texts he sent, with any necessary replies being sent to him through either one of his brothers or Jaskier.

He turned when he heard someone clearing their throat pointedly.

Speak of the devil.

Jaskier stood slightly awkwardly, eyes darting between the man and the girl, “Ciri, why don’t you go see how your uncle and dad are doing untangling those lights?” It was flimsy at best but Ciri didn’t seem to notice as she darted off, too caught up in the excitement of Christmas preparations.

Vesemir held the bottle out to Jaskier in a silent offering as he took the chair opposite, “He said he’ll come, but only for Ciri.”

Vesemir sighed through his nose. That was about what he’d expected, “How is he?”

Jaskier bit his lip, “No change really. He still misses him and I...”

Vesemir raised a bushy eyebrow expectantly as he waited for Jaskier to carry on.

“I don’t think that’s going to stop any time soon.”

Vesemir shook his head, “Why does that boy have to be so stubborn? I tried my damn hardest to stop them all from heading down that path and then he goes and throws himself head first.”

“Sir?”

Vesemir downed the rest of his drink, “Do you know how many people see those in the system as easy targets for criminal activity? They purposefully prey on kids who are lonely, desperate for acceptance.”

“Kids like Aiden?”

Vesemir looked up sharply, Jaskier looked for all the world like he hadn’t intended for that to slip out. He took a deep breath before continuing, “With respect, while I think it’s incredibly sweet you’re still looking out for them, Lambert’s a grown man now and Aiden’s had no issues with the law for the last decade or so.”

“That still doesn’t mean he’s good enough for my son!”

Jaskier held up a finger as he started tapping away on his phone, “I remember you thinking the same about me at one point.”

“And what made me change my mind about you?”

“I think the fact that I wasn’t Yennefer turned things in my favour in the end. I don’t know if it’ll change anything but, perhaps you should look at this. Please.”

Lambert took the proffered phone. It was a candid picture of Aiden and Lambert, sometime late in the summer from the looks of it. They were stood in each others arms, smiling softly and looking absolutely besotted, their heads so close together their foreheads were touching and seemingly oblivious to everything else happening around them. Was this how they’d been when he wasn’t around?Vesemir felt his chest clench as he recognised the look in the picture, it was one that had passed between himself and Luka too many times to count before...

Good God, what had he done?

Vesemir knocked smartly on the black painted door for the third time. The apartment building was nicer than he’d expected and he instantly felt shame at his assumption that Aiden would be living in some rat infested hovel. He heard the click of a lock and inwardly winced at the sight that greeted him. Aiden eyes were sunken and puffy, as if he’d been crying himself to sleep before falling victim to insomnia, his clothes were dishevelled and Vesemir found himself wondering when the last time was he’d eaten a proper meal. Nevertheless, he drew his shoulders back and met Vesemir’s eye, even if he did have a death grip on the door knob.

“Jaskier gave me your address. Can we please talk?”

Christmas Eve came around far too quickly as far as Lambert was concerned. He couldn’t deny he was looking forward to seeing his niece and brothers but the thought of long periods of time with Vesemir right now was already mentally exhausting him. He grit his teeth as he threw the last of his things into his overnight bag, it would be fine. It was just two days, and if he needed a distraction God knew Geralt wouldn’t be able to assemble and find correct batteries for all of Ciri’s new toys single handed. It was just two days. He could do this.

Lambert sent up a prayer of thanks that Vesemir wasn’t there when he arrived in the late afternoon, Geralt informing him that he’d just gone out to grab some last minute things and had instructed them to make a start on preparing dinner.

Dark had well and truly fallen, the food was almost ready and Geralt was half threatening Ciri, Jaskier and Eskel with coal in their stockings if they sang ‘grandma got run over by a reindeer ‘ one more time (Lambert might have been partly responsible for that and had zero regrets) when the tell tale beams of car headlights flashed through the kitchen window followed by Vesemir elbowing his way through the door, a neatly wrapped present under each arm.

“Seriously dad?” Geralt sighed, “Ciri’s going to be getting enough from Santa tomorrow without you adding to it.”

“Why should Santa get to spoil my granddaughter? Lambert, there’s one more back in the car. Run and grab it please.”

Lambert rolled his eyes but conceded at Geralt’s ‘Don’t start’ look.

“Happy Christmas, Pup.”

The smallest breath of wind could’ve knocked him over at that moment. Aiden was leaning against the side of the car, arms crossed as he smiled shakily at Lambert, “Vesemir came to see me and we talked. Really talked. He apologised and promised I’m welcome here from now on. If you want me here, that is.”

Lambert all but ran to him before sweeping him up in his arms and into a desperate kiss which Aiden eagerly returned, clinging to him.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too, you have no idea how happy I am right now. Mainly because Vesemir was my ride so, kinda would have made for a very awkward Christmas if you’d said no.”

Lambert yanked Aiden’s hood down over his eyes with a laugh, “Dork.”

Jaskier had let out a whoop of delight when Lambert led Aiden into the house, followed by Lambert and Vesemir sharing a brief bear hug in silent apology and the start of forgiveness and when they weren’t eating, Aiden’s hand was firmly wrapped in his.It was perfect.

“Aiden?” Ciri piped up from opposite him, all wide eyed innocence, “Do you know grandma got run over by a reindeer?”

Aiden quickly took in the smothered laugh from Eskel, Geralt’s eyes turned heavenward, and flashed Lambert that impish grin he loved so much, “You know Ciri, I’m not sure I do. Remind me, how does it go?”

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden/lambert #aiden x lambert #lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert

[lledron]

Thoughts on season 3 (some of them)

Thoughts on season 3 (some of them) Stregobor lived as he died, being a racist. He at least bought the girls some time. Stregobor, Falka is waiting for you too. Call me sentimental, but I love that Fringilla will kill her uncle, you know, the one who left her to rot in Nilfgaard to be beaten and raped. This series is full of family members hurting their family, starting in season 1 with Yennefer. And Ciri has it worse with her sperm donor.

Dijkstra & Philippa: It's like Jesse and James from Pokemon are real and have ambitions beyond just earning their boss's salary. It's a good friendship and if it's not, it's a symbiotic relationship between wizards and whatever Dijkstra is.

Tissaia had a breaking moment, but she rose to fight. Don't worry Tissaia, compared to Tolkien's Celebrimbor your Dark Lord at least didn't keep you for questioning. Vilgefortz being the bad guy. It's great, because he asked me why Tissaia didn't shoot him from behind or something.

I'm worried about Istredd.

Franchesca showed great power in the fight and even had the pep talk with Fringilla. Filavandrel protected Franchesca, very well, but I feel bad that she died.

Where are the novices during the attack? Vil took them for further experiments?

Jaskier and Radovid go too fast in their relationship. I mean, Rad, you've known Dandelion for, like, six months and he still hasn't introduced you to his family. I know that they are cute together, I know that they are in love. The saddest thing is that Radovid wants to go with Jaskier because he doesn't feel safe in his own house. He is right in wanting to leave, in wanting to form his path. He makes me sad because he says that he "was never good at anything".

Which brings us to Vizimir's death. Despite all his hunting for Ciri, despite being a fucking racist to the elves, he loved his brother and his wife. The servants cried when he died, I don't know if it's because they took care of him when he was little or something.

The death of the novices. It's not Triss's fault, she screamed for help and Tissaia dismissed her concerns. Because Arethusa was supposed to be safe and no teacher would attack her students. But no, this happens in real life, the teachers are bullies or abusers, like Stregobor and Vilgefortz. Triss literally can't have happy moments. I hope she has them in the future with Sabrina and Istredd.

Most people complain that Henry isn't coming back, but I didn't come to the show for him. If the protagonists die, the series continues. I hope the change of actor doesn't bring problems, because he's already bringing them. I came for the found family, the sexy wizards and witches.

Tissaia's suicide is so real. Suicides do that, they tell people, friends or family that they are okay and then they kill themselves. At least a part of them. Vincent van Gogh before trying to commit suicide had made plans with his brother to visit him and his family in weeks.

#the witcher

[onyour-right]

I'm really loving this season of the witcher!

Like the relationship between Geralt and Yennefer? Elite! Yennefer, Geralt and Ciri being a family? Fuxking beautiful! Jaskier being the annoying but lovable uncle? Wonderful! The threat across the continent that is about to ruin everything? Fucking anxiety inducing!

I'm actually so sad this is Henry's last season because I feel like they're finally getting into its swing, and nobody knows and plays Geralt as beautifully as he does.

Ughhhh.

#the witcher #geralt x yennefer #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla of cintra #i love my husband and wife duo and my family unit 💓

[astrid-sama]

The dances aren't that bad after all (Calanthe x fem reader)

(Il post c'è anche in Italiano sul mio profilo)

(English is not my first language, sorry for the mistaken)

<<So stay next to me, evil look and pretend to be mute nobody has to know who you are >> Gerald and I are at the royal palace of Cintra to protect Jaskier from the horned royals. He forced us to dress like sad silk merchants by saying it was best to keep a "low profile".

<< Gerald and T / N the intrepid witchers >> suddenly all the guests of the banquet turn to look at us.

<<Fuck>> apparently Jaskier's plan didn't go well.

<<How are you not seen since the times of the plague >>

<< Good times lot of mousesack >>

<<I missed your colorful cynicism, I was afraid of a boring evening but with you two here all is not lost >> sack of mouse then turned to me << Y / N because you and Gerald are dressed like sad traders of silk? >> instead of answering I turn to look at Jaskier and from the expression on his face I guess he understood why we are here.

<< Come with me I want to show you something >> so the three of us walk among the tables full of suitors.

<< I have been a councilor at the Court of Skellige for years, a land with difficult borders but with a tender heart, like me >>

<<So it's an old and grumpy kingdom >> says Gerald making a rat-bag smile.

<< How long will all this last the nobility is better to take it in small doses >>

<< I'm sorry for you T / N but do not hope to leave before dawn the suitors will contend for Pavetta's hand all night, a royal wedding is highly coveted, who would not want to become the king of the most powerful kingdom in the region> > says sack of mouse while taking a sip of beer.

<<So which of these privileged balls did you cheat? >> I asked while drinking a beer trying to change the subject.

<<Come with me I'll show you something >> he says walking between the tables until he gets near a table where a man looking like a pig eats as if he hasn't seen food for days.

<< I would never have believed it but that drunkard down there - he said pointing to the man in front of us - will marry Pavetta the lioness has already planned everything with the uncle of the boy Eist of Skellige, no one would dare to hinder such a powerful alliance> > he said as he watched a nobleman turn a dagger in his hands.

<< Skilled with blades and skilled with women >>

<<All appearance, Queen Calanthe has refused his proposal three times, and useless to continue to try the lioness is not made to stay in the shadow of a husband >> while a lot of mouse was talking I realized how a man ( surely the husband of one of the women Jaskier slept with) was cornering Jaskier, I pointed this out to Gerald and together we headed to rescue Jaskier.

<<Forgive me sir it always happens that Jaskier is mistaken for a cowardly rascal but I assure you that it is not so, Y / N can you explain? >> Gerald says turning to me, obviously he wants me to invent something.

<<You are right, sir it is known that as a child he was hit in the balls by a bull >>

Jaskier nods and the man apologizes before leaving.

<< But thank you very much first attract all the attention and then ruin my reputation at court >> says Jaskier offended.

<< We saved you, now try not to get stabbed before dawn >>

Suddenly the trumpets start to sound and a man announces the return of Queen Calanthe, when I turn to look I find myself in front of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, she is in armor with untidy hair covered in blood from head to toe , a real lioness is wild and beautiful.

<<Beer>> shouts the queen, then apologizes for the delay saying that she had to remind the rebels who is in charge, thus making all the men applaud.

I'm still watching her as she walks to the table where her daughter is, Gerald notices it and gives me a knowing smile, obviously he knows about my preference for women.

<<You did not kill a gnat let alone a manticore >>

<<I killed manticore twice as big as you >> two nobles were arguing, each of them claimed to have killed a manticore, which obviously neither of them had done.

The discussion had become so intense that even the queen joined in << There are famous guests tonight maybe they will be able to tell us which of the two lords is telling the truth >> all turned towards us waiting for one of the two to speak.

. <<Neither>> I said and Gerald nodded in agreement.

<< Are you calling us liars? It is obvious that the butchers of Blaviken are lying >> said one of the lords.

<<Maybe they could have met some sub species of manticore >> Gerald adds after seeing the important look that Jaskier gave him. The queen laughed.

<< Maybe our guests can tell us how they slaughtered the elves at the edge of the world >>

<<In reality, Her Highness, we have not killed any elves, on the contrary we were almost to be killed >> Gerald said as the crowd began to laugh at us << At least when their sword has reached our throat we are not there below, I hope it would have been like that for you too, but I doubt it >> I added.

<<Any man and woman willing to admit their failures will make tonight's conversations more interesting, come witcher sit next to me I'm going to change >> said the queen.

<<These damn clothes I'd rather wear my armor >>

Calanthe said as she touched her corset-tight stomach.

<< Me too, and Gerald agrees too >> I replied.

<< In fact, what are two witchers doing at my daughter's engagement party dressed as >>

<< like sad silk merchants >> Gerald said finishing the sentence started by the queen.

<<We protect the bard from the vengeful real horned >> I replied.

<<A heap of idiots, I am glad of your presence will be useful to me, tonight surely some blood will be shed >>

<<I will not waste any more breath, we are not here as a personal guard >> Gerald said taking a sip of beer.

<<You have been hired by the bard >>

<<We are simply doing a favor to a friend Highness >> I replied while she rolled her eyes.

<< I'm just saying that in case all hell breaks loose, I count on you to eliminate some subjects that could be in the way >>

<< Neither I nor Gerald will help you >>

<< As a queen I could force you to do it >>

<<If we were your subjects but we are not >> the queen turns to look at me obviously struck by what I said.

<< I could torment you and force you to obey >>

<<I'm sorry height but the torture does not have much effect on those like us >> the queen smiled, apparently she liked me.

During the party Calanthe and I kept talking and I could have sworn I saw the lust in her eyes as the conversations went on.

Suddenly she got up and started walking towards the exit of the hall, she touched my shoulder lightly as if inviting me to follow her, I waited a little to avoid arousing suspicion and then followed her.

I had only taken a few steps when I was pushed against the corridor wall with Calanthe's lips above mine, suddenly her hands were on my body, I gasped in surprise and she took the opportunity to slide her tongue into my mouth. When we separated we were both breathing hard, Calanthe was looking at me with a hungry look practically undressing me with her eyes.

<<We should move this in more private >> she said as he grabbed my hand and dragged me into her bedroom.

Now I am in Calanthe's bed my head on her chest, our bodies full of bites, hickeys and scratches.

There is no doubt it was definitely the best night of my life.

<<We should go back to the party before anyone suspects something >> Calanthe says as he runs his fingers through my hair, I nod and get up to put my clothes back on.

I was about to leave when Calanthe grabs me <<I'll wait in my rooms as soon as the party is over >> I nodded with a smile on mine lips, I can't wait for the party to end.

#calanthe of cintra #queen calanthe #queen calanthe x reader #calanthe x fem reader #calanthe x reader

[tumb1rprincess]

Just finished up the first part of season 3 of the Witcher and I really liked it!  Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri’s family dynamic was too cute, I wanted to see more of the three of them together.  And I loved Jaskier in this season too, from kind of being Ciri’s honorary uncle to falling in love with someone.  The whole time him and that prince were looking at each other, I was like “Are they eye fucking each other?”  Then they went to actually fucking each other.  XD  Speaking of which, I loved seeing Geralt and Yennefer’s relationship blossom.  They’re finally moving on from the past and they’ve matured and they’re just so cute together!

The only nitpick I have is that the finale didn’t really feel like one.  It literally felt like the ending of a regular episode in the middle of the season.  I’m excited to see the next part, but sad ‘cause it will be Henry Cavill’s last season as Geralt.

#spoilers #the witch speaks #geralt #yennefer #ciri #yaskier #henry cavill

[vega-theythem]

Farrens Death (au)

Farren had been killed, he had gotten in the middle of a fight in a tavern in the kingdom of Septrum to try and stop it

Though the guys were bigger and by the time that the guards had come to try and stop them, Farren wasn't breathing

Rowan since he had been travelling with Farren, was the first to know, and it had broke him

Eduardo was the second to know, he got a letter one day the morning of work, he had been walking with Salamander out the door when he noticed he had got a letter

"Give me a second Sal! Let me just read this" he said as he grabbed the letter

Oh! An Septrum seal, must be from his brother, he thought as he smiles brightly ripping open the envelope

He starts to read and his smile fades, and tears form onto his eyes

Sal was the third to know as he looked back to see Lalo, the happy go lucky cheery friend, break down in the middle of the road

He didn't go to work that day, instead he visited Victor and Deuce

Holding the letter tightly in his hands as he knocks on the house door

Lisa was the one to open it- she's older now, she's 13, so when she sees her uncle standing there crying, she knows something is wrong

She drags him in and offer him tea, then calls for her brother and brother in law

Victor is the first to go downstairs and check on Lalo, he sends Lisa out of the room,she protests but does leave, staying outside the door to eaves drop

Deuce was with Victor as well, as the three men sit around the table, Lalo struggling to talk so he shows them the letter

And Victors eyes widen, and he covers his mouth

"He's de-dead?" Victor felt himself feel many emotions, anger and sadness being the two main ones

Eduardo and Farren were his best friends, they helped him through so much, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them

And now Farren was dead-

Victor felt himself tear up as well, it was as if his brother died, and Deuce had to hug him so he wouldn't break down

After a while they called Lisa in, once everyone was calm,

Lisa felt the sadness in the room and asked what happened

"Your uncle Farren died.."

"What-What?" She had to hold onto the table for support "Fay?- uncle Fay?" She looked at Lalo, as if hoping he would say it wasn't true as if it was some cruel joke

But it wasn't

That night the four of them had dinner together,and spent time together as they worked through the grief

Jaskier and Salamander came by after Jaskiers work shift to check on them, and to bring them some snacks, spending some time with them as well, to comfort them, though eventually the two did leave

The day after was similar to the night before, not alot of talking, but definitely spending time together, appearently watery skies had heard the news and we're on they're way to serenity to pay they're respects,

The wake was going to be in serenity, appearently Septrum was going to be bringing the body

The morning after, surprisingly came alot of people to visit the four of them, old workmates of Lalos, old friends of Victors, even old travel buddies of Farren to pay they're respects

The day was hard for everyone who cared for Farren, though Victor, Deuce, Lisa and Lalo all stayed together, that night Victor was sitting with Eduardo, going through some books for Lisa when Lalo spoke up

"I think..I'm gonna travel to Septrum before the wake, to visit Rowan"

"How do you think he's doing?"

"Not good, he loved my brother, I know he did.. I'll visit there soon"

Days go on and Eduardo was there, in Septrum, a place he had never even heard of before his brother and brother in law traveled there

He walked through the busy streets on his way to the town inn, he had received a letter from Rowan telling him where he was staying

What was Lalo really planning? Honestly just to be there for Rowan while both of them grieved, and maybe convince him to go back to Serenity for the funeral

He walked over to the inn walking in, it had been so long since he traveled anywhere outside of Serenity- well actually ever, he had never been outside of Serenity, maybe a few times he ran out to the mystic forest with Victor and Farren when they were younger but that's it

So this was new to him

He walked over to the stairs walking up, pulling Rowans letter from his cloak and scanning the paper to look for his Inn number

7, huh... Farrens lucky number, he shooks his head and walked to room 7, knocking before leaning against the wall

Rowan, the tall dark elf opened the door, seeing Lalo and letting him in

The night goes on as so, they talk and catch up, Rowan explains how Farren died, and Lalo makes dinner for both of them

The next few days go on as so, Lalo and Rowan talk or do something together, Lalo ends up cooking dinner because he wants to, and so

On the third night, Lalo brought Rowan his plate of food, Rowan was sitting Infront of the window looking down at it

"Something on your mind?" Lalo said sitting down

"You should leave town tonight" he said suddenly

Lalo stared at him confused, Rowan wasn't even looking at him when he said that, just looking at the busy streets

There was a few moments of silence before "Why?'

Rowan stared at the town a tad bit longer, before looking over at Lalo

"I'm going to burn it to the ground"

#original character #oc #writing #writers on tumblr #fantasy #sad #original story #short story

[witcher-and-his-bard]

Winter Prompts Day 2: Mistletoe 🌲

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Warning(s): none

Rating: general

Fic Summary: Jaskier thinks he’s sneaky trying to set up Ciri and Cerys, but with some help, they beat him at his own game.

Jaskier thinks it's cute, the way Ciri and Cerys dance around each other. He knows the feeling, remembers a time when he and Pri were just like them and part of him misses it. His own romantic life now is indescribably dull and even if he and Pri didn't work out in the long run, he misses the exhilaration of new love. He misses the fun of the chase, the flutter of butterflies every time you see them, the thrill of a first kiss. Jaskier sighs from his spot in the main hall, watching the way Ciri ducks her head when she laughs at Cerys' jokes. Well, he supposes, if he can't enjoy any of this any longer, he may as well do something for his niece. 

Jaskier's first thought is to trap them somewhere together, but then the servants start bringing in decorations for the holiday and he has a better idea. He gets a sprig of mistletoe from a pretty young woman who's pinning it up around the exterior of the castle. She offers him a sweet smile, but Jaskier slips away quietly. As much as he misses the fun of the dance that is new love, his heart has long belonged to someone else and no pretty smile is going to change that. He just hopes that for Ciri and Cerys, this blossoming romance will last, that neither of them need experience the pain and sadness of unrequited love. 

Jaskier pauses halfway across the entryway, stopping to collect himself before heading back inside. There are people moving about everywhere and he slips amongst the crowd to try and find the girls, wherever they've hidden themselves away. Supper will be served shortly, so he considers hiding outside Ciri's room and catching them unexpectedly, but there's no telling how long he'll be waiting for them. 

He's considering where to strike first when he spots them in the hall, coming toward him and he tucks the sprig behind his back, waiting for them to approach. Ciri smiles at him as she gets closer and Jaskier pulls the mistletoe out, dangling it above her head.

"What's this?" he grins, casting a quick glance at Cerys before looking back at Ciri.

Ciri just quirks an eyebrow at him before tugging him close and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

"Mistletoe, looks like," she smiles and Jaskier sighs, defeated. 

As Cerys passes, she pats him on the shoulder and Jaskier frowns to himself. He'll have to think of something really clever. 

But everything he comes up with seems to just get turned around on him. By the time everyone is settling after supper, he's been kissed on the cheek more times than he can count, and once gathered up into a firm hug by Eskel and kissed rather sweetly on the nose. He appreciates it, he does; he knows this little family is full of tricks and Ciri and Cerys are so proud of themselves, but they don't know Jaskier is just trying to help. 

They eat supper in silence but Jaskier is thinking about how to get them alone and once they've finished, the girls disappear on him again. Eventually, Jaskier gives in and turns to Eskel for help. 

"I am the fun uncle," he says, "and they're beating me at my own game."

"Why don't you stick it up in the hall? At this point, they'll know it was you - and they can kiss in private without the entire household around."

Jaskier sighs. Maybe Eskel is right; as much as he'd like to be there, so they know it was his doing, the girls deserve their privacy. 

"Might need your help," he says, "don't know if I can reach that high on my own."

"Glad to help," Eskel says, "you want to get set up now?"

"Mm, yeah, before drinks and desserts are served."

Eskel goes with him down to the main hall. There are only two entries from Ciri's bedroom so she'll have to come down this way and will surely pass under the mistletoe on her way. And Cerys hasn't left her side since they first got here, so Jaskier has no doubt they'll be together now. 

Eskel boosts him up to nail the sprig of mistletoe to the ceiling and just as he's finished it, Jaskier hears a hey, Geralt from below him and his stomach drops out. He squirms and Eskel sets him back on his feet, but then Eskel is ducking away and Geralt is just staring at him. His eyes lift to the ceiling and Jaskier follows them straight up to the mistletoe, hanging directly above his own head and oh. He's been set up. 

There's a faint giggling from behind him and when Jaskier turns he finds Ciri grinning back at him, Cerys' arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder. 

"Well, go on," Eskel prompts, "it's tradition after all."

"Yeah," Cerys agrees, "you wouldn't want to mess with tradition would you, Geralt?"

For a moment, Jaskier thinks Geralt is going to leave, but then he takes a step forward and Jaskier's mouth goes dry. Oh no no no, this is very bad. He can't let this happen. He can't let Geralt kiss him like this, with everyone around when he- Jaskier chokes on a breath but then Geralt's fingers are under his chin, tipping it up so they're face-to-face.

"It's okay," he whispers, so softly that Jaskier barely hears him and Jaskier nods faintly, barely aware of the motion himself. 

Then Geralt's lips press against his own and Jaskier can't hear the cheering over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. His heart pounds against his ribs, so hard and so fast that he's sure it will beat right out of his chest. But Geralt lifts his palm to press over it and his thumb shifts comfortingly in Jaskier's shirt. Jaskier settles, loosening up under the touch, but then Geralt pushes forward, deepening the kiss and sighing softly against him and Jaskier could cry. 

He doesn't think before wrapping his arms around Geralt's neck and then one strong arm curls around Jaskier's waist, bringing him flush against Geralt's body. Geralt's lips slide against his own and Jaskier moves instinctively, sinking into the kiss and kissing him back hard. He pours all of his longing and want into it, not realizing until it's too late that there are tears streaming down his face. 

Geralt only breaks the kiss when Jaskier absolutely needs to breathe and when he does, they're both panting slightly. Geralt reaches up, running his thumb under Jaskier's eye and brushing away the tears still lingering there. 

"Hey," he whispers and when Jaskier looks up at him, he becomes acutely aware that everyone else is gone. 

"Wha-" he starts, but Geralt just bumps their noses together and walks him back against the wall, pinning Jaskier against it with his body. 

"We've been set up," he whispers and Jaskier nods, understanding. 

"Yeah."

"I didn't think you-"

"Always," Jaskier confirms.

"I knew you stopped seeing the others, but I thought you were just getting old and tired," Geralt teases and fresh tears spring to Jaskier's eyes. 

"I'm hardly old," he argues, but the smile on his lips refuses to fade and he tugs Geralt forward again, pressing a trembling kiss to his lips. 

"You're going grey."

"You're one to talk," Jaskier scoffs and Geralt grins as he kisses him again, deep and loving. And it's far from Jaskier's first kiss, but it's more exciting, more thrilling than all the rest combined.

#geraskier #ciri x cerys #rex writes #the witcher

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Chords

The time comes when Ciri decides to leave Kaer Morhen and go on a solo adventure. Jaskier notices that everyone gets more and more sullen and short tempered as the day draws closer. Jaskier can tell, by the way Geralt is being such a Dad and practically smothering the poor girl, that he is having a hard time dealing with the thought of his daughter leaving home. Yennefer is doing her best to be supportive of Ciri, and keep Geralt from being a complete mess, but she is struggling too. The other Witchers are almost as much of a mess as Geralt, but they manage to hide it better. Jaskier can still tell though. Lambert is so short tempered with everyone, but is actually being nice to Ciri. It kind of creeps her out. Grandpa Vessemir knows Ciri will be just fine, but just can't seem to convince his "sons" of the fact.

So, while the Witchers spend most their evenings getting blackout drunk and getting into drunken fights to deal with all the sads, Jaskier spends his time composing "Chords" to make everyone even more sad.

He plays it (with Yennefer's help) the day Ciri heads out, and everyone is so quiet. Geralt doesn't even make it half way through the song before he's wrapping Ciri in a tight hug and just holding her the whole time. The song ends and there is a moment of silence, broken by the odd quiet sniffle, and then they all rush over and start hugging their little Witcher Princess, and everyone is crying, and holy crap, Lambert is ugly crying!

Mom Yennefer, Dad Geralt, and Uncle Jaskier see Ciri off with tearful smiles, and then they spend the next few months teasing Lambert.

#the witcher #geralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #ciri #cirilla fiona elen riannon #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #Vessemir #family #found family #witcher family #the witcher headcanon #Youtube #the amazing devil #madeleine hyland #joey batey #twn #the witcher netflix #geraskefer #geraskifer #chords headcanon

[rebrandedbard]

If you’re still doing the sentence prompts I’d love to see either 46 or 9 with geraskier

Ooo nice choices! Since there were two requests for number 9, I’ll answer it on this one so that anon and @itiswhatis-andwhatitisisgay both get the alert. Keep a sharp eye, anon! I’ll do 46 for you next!

9. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

WC:  1371

Jaskier’s Champion

Added a younger Ciri into the mix because my immediate thought was that the phrase sounded like an upset toddler crying. Decided Ciri was going to be Jaskier’s little bitty champion and come to defend him from her mean dad.

-

“It isn’t funny!” Ciri wailed, stomping her little foot in the snow. “It isn’t funny!” she repeated, pushing at Geralt’s legs as if her tiny arms had enough strength to move him. Her face was boiling red and streaked with tears, a bit of snot dribbling from her nose. Geralt tried to bend down to wipe it away, but she batted at his hands, crying out in rage, “No, no no!”

“But Ciri—”

“Go a-way!” she screeched. “It isn’t funny!”

When he tried reaching for her again, she picked up a handful of powdery snow and threw it at him. “Go! Right now!”

Jaskier put his hands on her shoulders. “Now, Ciri,” he entreated. “It was only a little prank, and Geralt apologized already. Nobody was hurt. It was only a bit of fun—nothing but a playful tease. Perfectly harmless.”

“No-o-o-o!” she cried once more, long and piercing. “We don’t want you!”

Geralt winced, looking at Jaskier with a desperate plea in his eyes.

Jaskier shrugged over the top of the hysteric tyke’s head. “She may be no more than a baby, but she has the sense of justice of a morally-staunch old woman.”

He sneezed, startling Ciri, who turned to Geralt with a glare of pure scorn.

“Bless him,” she demanded.

Geralt held his handkerchief out to Jaskier instead. “Bless you,” he sighed obediently.

Ciri reached up on her tip-toes and snatched the handkerchief away, tossing it back at him. She pulled a little hanky of her own from her cloak and handed it to Jaskier in its place. Then, with a sniff, she turned and started pushing Jaskier toward the stables. “Let’s go,” she said, picking up her little knapsack. She struggled, dragging Jaskier’s pack once more through the snow. She made it another two feet from the inn door before she had to stop and catch her breath.

“Cirilla, little cub, I really don’t think this is necessary for a simple—”

“It is nec-ess-ar-y!” she insisted. “He pushed you. He pushed you in and you got sick.”

They’d had a little play-fight in the snow four days ago, happy as a pack of puppies set loose to romp. Towards the end, Geralt had crept up behind Jaskier and pushed him into a snowbank, unaware of the duck pond that lay hidden beneath. Jaskier had come sputtering to the surface, soaked through, and it was a half hour’s walk back to the inn. He’d caught a chill before they could get him warmed up, and for three days after, he’d been resigned to his bed.

Ciri had been frightened, asking over and over if Jaskier was going to die—a question that, when first asked, had doubled Geralt over in laughter. Her little green eyes had been so huge and sincere. He just couldn’t help himself. Ciri hadn’t let him come near Jaskier since.

“It isn’t funny,” she mumbled again, as if she could see the memory playing over in Geralt’s mind. And perhaps she could. She had a touch of magic in her.

“It isn’t funny,” Geralt agreed. He knelt down to eye-level to speak with her. “And I’m sorry I laughed. I would be very sad if anything should happen to Jaskier.”

Jaskier smiled at that, slightly smug. Oh would you now? he seemed to say.

Geralt glanced up at him with a look that told him to behave, then reached out to pick up Jaskier’s wet bag. She grunted at him, but he ignored her, heading towards the stables. He began to strap on Roach’s saddle and tied Jaskier’s bag to the side, speaking slowly as he did.

“So you’ve decided to leave me behind. Where are you going?”

“Not your business,” Ciri huffed, refusing to look at him.

Geralt hummed. He caught an anxious look from Jaskier, but simply reached out and took his lute case, tying it to the saddle next. “Your uncles will be waiting for you at home; they promised you plenty of presents for Yule this year. But I’ll be there too. Perhaps you’d rather go to Oxenfurt with Jaskier. There would be lots of parties in store for you, and the groundskeeper’s dog will be having her litter soon. Maybe they’ll give you a pup.”

Ciri frowned as Geralt took her knapsack and tied it with the rest. She hesitated a moment, then held her head up and said, “Oxfurt.”

“Then you’ll need coin for your travels.” He pulled a pouch from his belt and put it in her hands. “Here. This ought to be enough to put you up in a cozy room on the way. Make sure you don’t walk too much. Jaskier still needs his rest. And feed him lots of soup, understand?”

Ciri looked between Geralt and the pouch. She turned to look up at Jaskier, too confused to remember her temper. When she turned back to Geralt, he had Roach’s reins in hand.

Geralt looked down at her and asked, “Can I come close enough to bid Jaskier goodbye?”

Ciri gripped the little purse tight in her hands. She looked between the two of them, the hint of a pout beginning to form on her lips. Her face was becoming red again as if she were trying very hard to hold something in.

So Geralt leaned over her head and gave Jaskier a kiss. Jaskier blinked in surprise as Geralt gave his face a cheeky pat, then Geralt was off, leaving Roach’s reins in his shocked hands. “Goodbye!” he called, pack slung over his shoulder. “Take good care of Jaskier for me, Ciri.”

Then Ciri was crying, chasing after him with a heartbroken wail.

“Don’t go!” she sobbed, latching onto his leg.

Geralt tried to suppress a smile, hiking up his burdened leg to take one last performative step. “You don’t want me,” he said.

“No!” she cried again, hugging his leg even tighter as the tears rolled down her face.

“You do want me?”

“No-o-o-o-ho-ho-o-oh!”

Despite her unintelligible responses, Geralt turned and dropped his bag, sitting on the frozen ground. The moment he was within reach, Ciri threw herself at him. She beat his chest with her tiny fists, then wrapped her arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder. He hugged her, wrapping her in his cloak to keep warm.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” she shouted.

Geralt nodded. He pet her hair, shushing her gently. “I promise.”

“No leaving! Ever!”

“What,” Jaskier asked, “was that all about?”

He stood towering over Geralt with his hands on his hips. His face was flushed, far too flushed to blame on the cold, and he was looking at Geralt with his sternest no-nonsense expression.

Geralt smiled innocently. “I was doing as I was told. Seemed to work out well.”

“Not that,” Jaskier said. “The whole—!” He gestured a circle around his face, then flicked his hands at Geralt, eyes landing on his lips. He cleared his throat and looked away, flapping his hand in an empty motion. “That.”

“The kiss?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier huffed. “Yes, that.”

“Hm.”

“Oh-ho-ho, no! Don’t you ‘hm’ me! We are talking about this one, Geralt.”

Geralt chuckled, offering Ciri his handkerchief. “Ciri doesn’t like when you’re sick,” he said.

“And?”

“And I don’t like seeing you sick either.”

“But what has that got to do with—”

Ciri wiped her eyes and tugged at Geralt’s cloak. “Did you kiss him better?” she asked.

“Yes, princess,” Geralt replied. “He’s all better now.”

“Then you can stay.”

Geralt picked Ciri up and put her in Roach’s saddle as the realization crept over Jaskier. He turned to take the reins back once more, winking at Jaskier. “Unless you think he needs another kiss, Ciri,” he added casually.

Jaskier scrambled after them, eyes lighting up with excitement. “I need a—!”

“I need a kiss better,” she said, holding out her hands.

Geralt craned up and kissed her cheek before instructing her to hold on tight to the saddle horn. They were only two days away from Kaer Morhen. There would be plenty of time to kiss it all better once Ciri was in the care of Uncle Eskel and Uncle Lambert. They had all winter.

-

Send me a drabble prompt!

#my fic #drabbles #witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #young!ciri #jaskier's champion fic #angst and fluff and angst and fluff just back and forth #y'all know the drill by now #ask game

[wyvernsandwitches]

So I had this thought a while ago about Jaskier's hair and it rattled round in my head long enough that I had to do something with it. So this is part one of a fic with a very silly premise. Do I have a title? No. But do I know the general direction this fic is going? Also, no. But I do hope that you enjoy.

*

“And you’re absolutely sure about this, sir?” the barber asked again, his voice laced with apprehension.

“Absolutely. Do it,” Jaskier answered with confidence.

*

The confidence faded almost immediately and he felt the doubt creep in the moment the barber’s razor touched his scalp, but he banished it. He needed this. Needed a new look, a fresh start. Something different. The doubt came back in force when the barber presented him with the mirror, an inscrutable expression on his face. Jaskier looked into the mirror and turned his head from side to side. The barber had done what he’d asked. He looked at his new self in the mirror: harshly shaved sides, and a sharp undercut at the back. The crop of hair left on the top of his head slicked back, away from his face. He immediately regretted coming here, but maybe it wasn’t so bad? He'd seen this style on other men and it looked good. Maybe it was just the shock of seeing a different hairstyle after having the same one his whole life. He forced a smile and thanked the barber enthusiastically, tipping and leaving quickly.

*

When he walked into Essi’s flat, Priscilla and Valdo were already there. Priscilla spluttered on her drink when she saw him, which made Valdo turn around.

“Oh my gods…” he murmured slowly as his eyes widened and a grin spread across his face.

Then Essi bustled in from the kitchen, a plate of various cheeses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, and stopped in her tracks.

“Oh Jaskier,” she said, and he couldn’t decide if it was humour or pity in her tone. “Oh, honey, what have you done?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, with a forced smile.

Valdo was still grinning like the cat who’d got the canary from his armchair. Priscilla’s eyes were sad as she looked him over. Essi put the plate and the bottle on the coffee table.

“Honey, your hair! What have you done?”

“What? You don’t like it?” he asked, feigning confidence. He took a seat on the settee next to Priscilla. “What do you think?”

“Here. Take this,” Essi said, handing him a glass of red wine. “Please understand that I say this with all the love in my heart for you, but Jaskier honey, it's not the look for you.”

Valdo laughed. “You look like every idiot boy in my prep school who felt they had something to prove.”

“What do you think Pris?” Jaskier asked, hoping someone at least might be on his side.

Her eyes went wide. “It’s, um… it’s certainly a change,” she smiled reassuringly.

Valdo snorted. “When the nicest thing Priscilla can say about it is ‘it’s a change’ you know it’s bad, darling.”

He had a point there. Priscilla was notorious for being the nicest one of them – a firm believer in the sentiment if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

“Oh gods, I know!” Jaskier cried and downed his glass of wine in one go, placing the glass back on the table and putting his head in his hands. He felt Priscilla put a soothing hand on his shoulder. “I knew it was awful the minute he showed me in the mirror. Oh gods, what have I done?”

“What in Melitele’s name possessed you to do such a thing?” Essi asked, refilling his wine glass. He took another sip and leaned back against the sofa, his lip jutting out.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Valdo snarked as he helped himself to bread and cheese. “I mean honestly Julian, could you be more of a cliché?”

Essi snorted. “Remember when Sylvie broke up with her boyfriend in third year and cut all her hair off herself?”

They all let out a laugh at that, Jaskier included.

“Oh my gods, yes. She looked like my drunk uncle. Bless her heart.” Jaskier took another sip of wine and stuffed a piece of sharp cheese in his mouth. “Anyway, I’m not a cliché. This isn’t like that. I’ve not broken up with anyone.”

“Oh yes, of course not. What would you call it, then?” Valdo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean?” Jaskier asked, taking another glug of wine.

“A certain witcher you’ve followed around for the past two decades, perhaps?”

“Valdo…” Essi said, a warning in her voice.

“Come now, this is ridiculous. You’ve been back nearly a week darling, and you haven’t told us anything. We have to discuss this at some point. Why not now after the very obvious cry for help that is this disastroushaircut?”

Jaskier knew he owed them an explanation. But he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to repeat the terrible words Geralt had said to him on the mountain. If he was the only one who knew them then he could maybe, maybe convince himself that Geralt was wrong. But if he said them out loud to his friends – he’d have to look at Priscilla’s expressive eyes and her silent mouth and he’d have to hear Essi telling him to move on and Valdo telling him that he should have figured that out already and they’d all know Geralt was right and he didn’t think he could stand that yet.

Essi studied Jaskier’s face. “Valdo, leave it, would you?”

“Every time he comes back here, it’s all Geralt this, Geralt that, oh I can’t wait to get back out on the road with Geralt and now you come back here – in the middle of summer, I might add – and you say nothing! Add to that all the quite frankly morose songs you performed last night and the fact that when Priscilla mentioned him the other day, gods, you looked like a kicked puppy.”

“Gods, Valdo! Do you have to be such an arsehole all the time?” Essi snapped.

Jaskier could feel his throat getting tight. He took another sip of his wine.

“Jas,” Priscilla murmured and shuffled closer to him to put an arm around his shoulders. “You can tell us anything, you know that, right?”

“You don’t have to tell us, but we’re here to listen, hun. Always.” Essi leaned over the table to squeeze his knee.

Jaskier took a deep breath and he could feel tears stinging his eyes. He blinked rapidly and downed his wine again, and then he told them everything, waiting for the looks on their faces that would confirm those terrible words… but they didn’t come.

Priscilla put her wine glass on the table and wrapped both arms around him as he talked, and when he finished, she immediately looked at him and said, “You know he was wrong, don’t you?”

A weight eased in his chest and the tears that had been slowly drifting down his cheeks as he spoke, turned into sobs and he returned her hug fiercely.

“I’m going to kill him,” Essi said, which made Jaskier laugh through his tears. “Oh, I’m serious Jas. If he comes crawling back here with his tail between his legs, which he no doubt will, I’m going to absolutely murder the man.”

Jaskier chuckled again and wiped his eyes. “I think you might have trouble there, given he’s a witcher and all.”

“Never underestimate the power of a woman whose best friend has been scorned,” Essi said, all seriousness, and there was so much determination in her gaze, Jaskier genuinely thought she might be able to give Geralt a run for his money.

“I mean, I know the whole witchers having no emotions thing is bullshit,” Essi continued. “You don’t spend twenty years listening to your stories and still believe that crock. But still, you’d think after all you’ve been through together, he’d have enough emotional capacity to not lash out at the first person he sees just because he’s angry his witchy little paramour broke up with him.”

“It wasn’t just that. I’m an annoyance to him, always have been.”

“Oh, bullshit. Just because you’re an annoyance doesn’t mean he gets to lay all the blame for his fucking baggage at your feet. I’ve got news for you honey, and this may come as a shock, but we are musicians and thespians – we’re all fucking annoying.”

Jaskier chuckled and Priscilla laughed, adding “She’s got a point.”

“I mean look at Valdo,” Essi said with a smirk. “You think if friendship was ruined by someone being annoying that he would be here? He’s soannoying! He’s one of the worst people I’ve ever met.”

“I wear that title with honour,” Valdo smirked back and raised his glass to her.

“But he’s also one of the best. Just like you, hun.” Essi got up and sank onto the settee next to him, pulling her hand into his and placing a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t spend twenty years travelling with someone if there’s not something worthwhile beneath the annoyance.”

Her words made something in Jaskier’s chest glow. The reassurance that maybe he hadn’t spent twenty years of his life being an idiot and following someone around who didn’t want him.

“If he did come back and apologise, would you accept?” Priscilla asked.

Jaskier sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Oh please,” Valdo rolled his eyes. “Darling, you would forgive him before he even got the words out. I suspect you may have already. You’ve always been a sucker for those you love.”

“That explains why I keep you around then,” Jaskier retorted.

“Mm, rather. But I would imagine it is a different breed of love that keeps you bound to the witcher,” Valdo said with a knowing look.

He’d never spoken about it outright with Valdo. Valdo had never been one for romantic feelings. It was part of the reason their little arrangement worked so well. They’d never had to worry about feelings complicating things, it could just be physical.

He’d loved Geralt for years; had been infatuated with him when they first met, but after the fifth or so time cleaning gore off someone, the mysterious allure starts to fade and they just become another friend, rather than a legend. Jaskier loved quickly and he had loved Geralt’s armoured heart almost immediately, but mostly in the same way he loved the people around him now, deeply and unconditionally, but he hadn’t wanted anything more from their friendship. It was about five years ago that he realised he was actually in love with Geralt. By the time he finally realised, he was too deep in to try and find his way back out.

Priscilla knew how he felt, had known before he’d even realised – she was like a bloodhound when it came to love, could sniff it out on anyone within minutes. None of them knew how. He imagined Essi had suspected for a few years, also.

“Yes,” Jaskier admitted. “I imagine you might be right.”

Essi kicked Valdo and made a keep going gesture with her hand. Valdo rolled his eyes and swirled his wine.

“Uh, fine, fine. For the record, darling, I think the pair of you are idiots. Him for driving away someone who could love him so completely, and you for accepting his words as truth. I am quite angry on your behalf and I would echo Essi’s sentiment were it a little less violent. There, happy? Can I go back to being cruel now Essi? You know what being nice does to my complexion.”

He said the word nice as most people might refer to a cockroach. It had taken Jaskier a few years to realise that Valdo’s cutting and snide exterior contained a genuine, kind human beneath and a few years more for them to become actual friends.

Jaskier smiled. “Thank you, dear.”

“That being said, I shan’t be sleeping with you until this disaster is remedied. I can’t be going around sleeping with men who look as though they are in the midst of a mid-life crisis.”

Jaskier groaned. He’d forgotten about his hair. “What am I going to do? How long does it take hair to grow out?”

“A few months at least, I’d say,” Pris replied with a sympathetic expression.

He groaned again. “How can I fix this?”

“You could borrow one of the wigs from the theatre department!” Priscilla suggested. “I can get one for you.”

Jaskier made a face. “Those ratty things? No thank you. I remember what we were like when we were students, I’m not putting it on my head if I don’t know where it’s been.”

“A wig would be fun, though! I bet Elihal can fix you up with one. I’ve always wondered what you’d look like with long hair!” Essi said and knelt up on the settee next to Jaskier to drape her long hair over his head. He laughed as she did so and Priscilla started arranging Essi’s hair around his face.

“Hey, I think you might be onto something here,” she giggled and stood up to grab the mirror off the wall above the fireplace. Jaskier looked at himself, long blonde hair cascading down, a bit of his own brunette hair peeking through. He laughed. And kept on laughing. Oh, what a day. Why had he done something so ridiculous and irreversible? Essi and Priscilla fell into fits of giggles with him and by the time they all calmed down they were tangled up together on the sofa. Even Valdo was laughing by the end.

#look idk either okay #when i get to part 2 it will have some geralt #and both of them being idiots #jaskier #dandelion #the witcher #jaskier fic #geraskier #valdo marx #essi daven #my writing #the witcher fic

[pillage-and-lute]

Did you want the plot ideas to be on the heavy or on the light side? If heavy: Jaskier accidentally gets sent back in time to before the attack on te Kaer and struggles with the choice of changing things(if he even can) or not, so as to preserve the timeline. If light: ...(damn having issues with this one) Jaskier's de-aged and the whole kaer is afraid they'll scare the kid, but jaskier saw witchers as heroes even as a child. Que blushing witchers while jaskier is all star-struck.

Ander-s, this is so great! I don’t actually know too much about the witcher outside of the show. (I’m trying to read the book but im also just...sooo adhd) so I’ll write baby jask, especially since im feeling fluffy tonight, but also not quite. 

TW: child abuse and neglect, mentioned child death

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“Geralt,” Yennefer said. “You know how I’m a very powerful sorceress who is still healing from Sodden and also your very good friend and important ally?”

“That’s a mouthful,” Geralt said. Ciri was destroying him easily in Gwent and he was thankful for the distraction. Then he saw the look on Yen’s face. “What did you do.”

She stepped aside.

There was a child, maybe six, wearing one of Jaskier’s chemises. He had one hand buried in her skirt and was holding on tight, as if she were his mother.

“What...”

He didn’t get to finish, because the child was walking over to Vesemir, tugging Yennefer by the skirt. 

“Excuuuse me mister,” he said through one gap tooth. “Are you a witcher? Because some day I’m going to meet a whole lot of witchers and write all stories ‘bout them.”

“Jaskier?”

The boy turned very big blue eyes on him.

“Papa says I’m not allowed to be called Jaskier, he says Jaskier is silly and I hafta be Julian.”

“Do...do you want to be Julian?” Geralt asked, dumbfounded.

“Nuh-uh,” mini-Jaskier said. “But mummy called me Julek sometimes, so that one’s okay.”

Geralt looked from Jas-Julek to Yennefer, then back to the kid, then back to Yennefer.

“You turned my boyfriend into a... how old are you, Julek.” The boy held out one hand, fingers splayed.

“I’m five and a half, and papa said that if I’m good and don’t make trouble I can listen to the minstrels for my sixth birthday.”

“He’s so cute!” Ciri squealed, forgetting their Gwent game. “I get to be his big sister!”

Lambert grinned like the cat that got the cream. “Uncle Lambert has a nice ring to it.”

Eskel nodded. “I could get used to Uncle Eskel.”

“No, no no no,” hissed Geralt. “That would imply that I’m his daddy--father.” He caught himself too late.

“I dunno Geralt, what do you like Jaskier to call you in bed?” Lambert grinned evilly.

“Not around little ears,” Vesemir snapped.

“Yup,” Ciri said. “My ears are little and I absolutely don’t know what sex is.”

“Miss Yennefer,” Julek said. “Are all of these men witchers?”

“Yes Julek,” she said. Her voice had a soft tone Geralt didn’t normally hear from her. Julek sank back against her legs, looking nervous. It was such a big difference to the bubbly countenance of before that the wolves drew back collectively.

He hadn’t seemed afraid of witchers before when he walked up to Vesemir, but now it practically radiated from him.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he said. “Papa will be very angry and I’ll be sent to my room again.” There was more fear there than the threat of grounding should hold. Yennefer picked him up, tucking him close and coddling him gently.

“Does he often send you to your room?” she asked. 

“Only when I deserve it,” Julek whispered into her neck. The wolves of Kaer Morhen heard it anyway. 

“What do you do to deserve being sent to your room, Julek,” Yennefer coaxed.

“If I talk too loud, or go where I’m not suppos’d to, or if I talk to people papa doe’nt like,” he said, sounding tearful. “Then I go to my room an’ nobody visits or talks to me and I’m there all alone.” 

“How long, Julek?” Ciri asked, peering at him around Yennefer’s arm. 

“A week.”

Lambert had a face like a thunderclap, Eskel looked fierce, and Geralt’s heart was breaking. Ciri nearly had tears in her eyes. Vesemir just looked stony.

Geralt knew what he ws thinking of. Vesemir had just been a swordfighting instructor, not instrumental in the Trials. He’d even been known to read a scared boy to sleep, once in a while, but much worse abuse had been handed out within these walls, however, than a week’s solitary confinement. And Vesemir was in the keep year round, listening to all those ghosts.

“Your papa isn’t here,” Yennefer was saying. “Just us and these witchers and Ciri, so it’s okay, and you can talk to them.”

“Really?” the boy lifted a tear stained head. He practically leapt from Yennefer’s arms and right to Geralt.

“I have questions,” he said importantly. “And you should answer them because I’m going to write a book.” Eskel and Lambert were practically cooing, as Julek got his thoughts together.

“When will this wear off?” Geralt asked Yen.

“Probably by tomorrow,” she said. Ciri looked a little dissappointed.

“Excuuuse me,” Julek said. “This is very important. I’mma be a scho-scholar on witcherness.”

“Yes Geralt,” Vesemir said, mock sternly, lifting the little boy onto his knee like a doting grandfather. “No interrupting Professor Julek.” 

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Just a little drabble I suppose, maybe more sad than sweet. Uncles Lambert and Eskel pictured below

#geraskier #not in this one tho #grandpa vesemir #de-aged Jaskier #Eskel #Lambert #cirilla fiona elen riannon #yennefer #who is a good mom #askbox answers

[jaskiersvalley]

Salt In Our Wounds

Not a happily ever after ending (yet).

Over the years Kaer Morhen began to fill up. It was nice to not have just four sad witchers moping around, drinking and raging against destiny. Jaskier was definitely a bright star in all the dreary darkness. The way he made Geralt’s eyes soften gave Eskel hope that it wasn’t all misery and pain in their futures. It really was quite sweet to watch their relationship blossom. That wasn’t to say it wasn’t already in full swing by the time Geralt dragged Jaskier up the mountain. But they had obviously been refraining from putting on too much of a display. By the second year they had no such boundaries and were happily touching and cuddling in full view of everyone else.

That left Eskel to spend time with Lambert and Vesemir (plus Lil Bleater but she didn’t count). They were as good as always, fine company even if they weren’t Geralt. Because Geralt was, in a way, Eskel’s best friend. Losing him to Jaskier was bittersweet.

Soon after Jaskier, Ciri and Yennefer arrived too. More mouths to feed but more people to call friends, maybe even family. There was something to be said for the warmth in Eskel’s chest when he was called ‘Uncle Eskel’ by Ciri. They really did make it feel like a family, even if Eskel was only on the periphery, looking in.

The year Lambert turned up with another witcher in tow was another gain for the family but a loss for Eskel. Aiden was great, he was definitely a perfect match for Lambert. Plus, he made Jaskier laugh and doted on Ciri.

“It’s nice to see them happy,” Vesemir said as he leaned against the battlement above the training ground. It was where Eskel liked to retreat to, away from the fray of a bustling family life but still there, on the edges, looking in. Lil Bleater quite enjoyed the height of it as she followed them around.

“It is.” Because it was and Eskel would have been a bitter, jealous liar if he had said he wasn’t, on some level, pleased for the others. At least he still had Vesemir next to him.

Until two years later when the keep once again came alive with everyone. Geralt, Jaskier, Ciri, Yennefer arrived, followed by Lambert, Aiden and another, elderly Cat witcher.

“Guxart?” Vesemir’s voice shook as he stepped forward, arms outstretched. Their reunion was full of half disbelieving laughs, a lot of shoulder gripping and one bone crushing hug.

That winter Eskel spent his time at the peripheral. Everyone else had their own, chosen family around them. He tried not to feel left out because nobody had chosen him. Not Geralt who he had gone through the trials with. Not Lambert who he had sat with and tried to help with his anger. Not even Vesemir who always called him his unofficial favourite but only because Geralt was more aloof and less obedient than Eskel.

The battlement became Eskel’s haunting ground. He couldn’t face being surrounded by so many content people who didn’t really want him. A goat butted its head against his calf. Looking down, Eskel tried for a lopsided smile.

“Just you and me, Bleats,” he murmured and reached down to give the goat a ruffle. She was getting on a bit but at least she always came back and trailed after him. Probably because he sneaked her treats rather than because she actually cared about him. But that wasn’t worth thinking about. She was there, despite being a very decent age for a goat. Valiantly, Eskel tried not to think about how long goats lived for. And how lonely the next winter was going to be.

#geraskier #laiden #eskel #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #vesemir #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla fiona elen riannon #guxart #tldr: eskel is lonely in company

[waiting4inspiration]

Her Eyes V: Simply Put (Geralt x Reader)

Summary:  You tell Geralt a little bit more about what you know of your father as well and reveal something personal; your chances of conceiving a child

Warnings: mentions of infertility, angst, strong language, magical elements, slight mentions/reference to rape, mentions of abandonment, please let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 2, 433

Her Eyes Masterlist II Witcher Masterlist

“So, if you’re part dragon, does that mean you can turn into one if you wanted to?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt grumbles, but you chuckle at the question and the way the Witcher warns the bard to be careful of his words in case you would take offense to them. 

There’s something in the way Jaskier asks his questions that you find amusing. He’s not asking them to make you feel bad about yourself or anything like that. He’s just asking out of pure curiosity. And maybe it’s because he wishes to write a ballad about this adventure. 

You turn your head over your shoulder to look at Jaskier who has chosen to walk a little bit behind you rather than beside Geralt. You tried to reason with him to at least get a horse for the poor bard, but he wouldn’t listen to you. “I haven’t tried it, but I doubt something like that can happen,” you state, smiling playfully at him before you turn your gaze back in front of you. 

You hear Jaskier hum to himself, probably thinking about his neck question. Whatever it is, you’re ready for it. 

Spending the night answering and asking questions with Geralt really changed a few things. For one, you feel a bit more confident now. Telling someone the truth about what you are, no longer having to keep things a secret anymore is like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You don’t feel the burden of having to fit in with people in court. You can be yourself. 

And you’ve learned quite a lot about Geralt too. He’s told you about his Child of Surprise, Ciri, how she’s currently being trained in the basics of being a Witcher by those in Kaer Morhen, where he has trained and turned into a Witcher. And he told you how that happened. 

He shared more with you in one night than he had shared with Jaskier in the how-ever-many-years they’ve known each other. And you...well, you’ve shared more with him than you’ve shared with anyone in your entire life. 

Geralt wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to travel so soon after what happened yesterday, thinking that it would be best for you to rest first before traveling. But, you seem to be doing as great as before the whole knife incident.  

“Breathe fire?” Jaskier questions. It makes Geralt turn around to give him a stern look that makes you laugh and shake your head at the silent exchange between the two men. “What? How am I supposed to create my next masterpiece if I don’t ask questions?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t, Jaskier,” you mention, looking over to him again to give him a friendly smile. “People like me would prefer to remain unknown,” you say, looking to Geralt and catching him staring at you. 

He turns his head away from you, breaks his stare and clears his throat, making you smirk to yourself and blush lightly at the thought that he had been staring at you. 

Jaskier breathes out a long, audible sigh and drops his head between his shoulders. “Alright. But it would have been the greatest ballad to have ever crossed the continent,” he announces, holding his arms out as if to proclaim it to the skies. “The intense feeling of power, the burning passion for fire, the freedom to go anywhere. The freedom, the power, the fire. What a life it would be. I envy the legend that is still told. I envy the fire; I envy the freedom. Straight forward: I wish I was a dragon,” Jaskier speaks what you think is part of this ballad he’s been thinking about.

As he mutters to himself and walks forward, ahead of you and Geralt, you shake your head to yourself and turn to look at Geralt when he rides up to your side. “How long have you exactly been friends?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him as he grunts.

“He’s not my friend,” Geralt grumbles, keeps his gaze on Jaskier a few feet ahead of you and his words make you chuckle. 

“Well, some people would say different.” That makes him turn his head towards you. “Geralt, it’s okay to have a friend. Someone to talk to every now and then,” you add, making him take a deep breath as he turns his head out in front of him again. 

You wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He remains silent, eyes forward, and that brooding look on his face you’ve gotten so used to, it makes you smile. “Can I ask you something?” he finally speaks, making your head turn towards him and smile.

“You still have questions after last night?” you tease, making him give you a look to tell you to be serious. “Of course. What’s your question?”

He clears his throat, runs his tongue over his lips and breathes out a low sigh. “Who is Armen?” he asks. 

The smile falls off your face and you drop your gaze down to your hands wrapped around the reins. You bite your lower lip, close your eyes and recall the dream you had when you blacked down because of the knife. The knife you now keep at the bottom of a bag, just in case. 

“He’s my father,” you whisper, pulling slightly on the reins and stopping your horse as you let the dream play in your mind again. “My uncle used to tell me about him when I was a child,” you start, open your eyes and look up at Geralt as he stops Roach from walking and stands beside you. “He had only met my father once, but the way he spoke of him…” You trail off, smiling to yourself as you gently shake your head. “I’ve ever heard someone speak of someone else with so much respect.”

Geralt stares at you as you speak, watches the emotions in your eyes flicker with those flaming irises. And your smile...it’s almost sad. 

You said last night when he asked you if you remember anything of your father that you only have stories to go on. You said that one day, you hope you will find him. And deep down, Geralt hopes you find him too.

“Geralt? I know we should be keeping to the main road, but what do you plan on doing when it just...ends?”

Jaskier’s question that he shouts makes the Witcher grunt and turn Roach to walk towards where Jaskier’s voice comes from. Sighing to yourself, you urge your horse forward to follow Geralt. 

But a shiver rolls down your spine and a terrible feeling resonates in the spot where the knife hit you. And your head turns over your shoulder when you hear a faint whisper behind you.

You’ve noticed a change ever since you had that little incident with the Magick Hunter and his knife in your back. You noticed a change in the weather, especially at night, how it seems to be colder at night than in the day. And you’ve noticed a change in yourself. 

It’s hard to sleep. This is the first night after the attack and you can’t sleep. You just find yourself staring up at the sky, through the leaves of the canopy above you, trying to find the stars. And with sleep alluding you, the only thing on your mind you can’t help but think of is that dream about your father. 

Huffing out in annoyance, you push yourself off the ground and stare at the dying fire Geralt had set up when you stopped for the night. 

“Can’t sleep?” Geralt’s voice pulls your eyes away from the fireplace and to him. He sits a little bit away from you, sharpening the steel sword he always carries on his back. 

You sigh, shift in your spot to cross your legs over each other as you shake your head. “What about you?” you ask as he places the sword to the side and turns to face you more directly. “Do Witcher even sleep?”

He chuckles deeply and smirks at you. “We can go without sleep longer than ordinary people. But not by much,” he states, turning his head to look out into the woods. “We need to keep watch during the night,” he mentions and carries on staring off in the distance. 

Staring at him for a moment, you breathe out a loud breath and push yourself to your feet and gently walk over to Geralt, careful to not wake Jaskier, and making Geralt turn his gaze towards you. 

He watches you sit down beside him and look out to where he had been looking a few moments ago. You pull your lower lip in between your teeth and sigh after a few moments of silence, listening to the wind blowing, making the leaves rustle and the branches to creak slightly. “Do you think my father could still be out there, somewhere?” you quietly question, slowly turning your head up to look at Geralt. 

Blinking, he shifts and clears his throat as he folds his hands in front of him as he glances off to the side for a brief second. When he looks back at you, he finds you waiting for his response with an eager look on your face. “Dragons can live for a very long time, even in human form,” he begins, earning an understanding nod from you. You must have been taught this by Akius already. “And they are very hard to kill, even harder to find.”

Even though he didn’t want to say that, he had too. And he sees the disappointment in your eyes when he states that fact. He knows you want to find your father one day. But you should at least know that your search could fail, and you might not ever find him. 

Your head drops in sorrow and you stare down at your hands, quiet, thinking of your next words. “And if I ask you to help me find him?”

“(Y/n)-”

“I can’t stop thinking about him, Geralt. I know, deep down, he wouldn’t have left me or my mother if he didn’t have a choice. I know, from stories my uncle Dormond used to tell me. A man, a dragon with so much respect for everyone, and love for my mother, would never have abandoned me,” you speak, and Geralt can see the passion in your word dancing in the flames of your eyes. Every word resonates in them, making them glow brighter. “He’s the only chance I have for a family,” you whisper as you turn your gaze away from him. 

Those words make him frown at you, something you catch him doing out of the corner of your eye, and you wait for him to ask what you mean by that because you know he’s caught a different meaning behind your words. “The only chance you have for a family,” he repeats your words. And you nod. “You wouldn’t want to start one yourself?”

Your eyes fall shut to hide the small tears welling up as you swallow the hard lump in your throat. “I...I can’t,” you stammer out. Keeping your head low and your gaze on your hands, you bite your lower lip as you wait for Geralt to say something about that. To either console you or question why. You’re prepared for anything. 

“Can’t or won’t?” His question makes your head turn up to him. There’s a sort of angry look in your eyes, a stubborn look that tells him you won’t answer that question. “Your kind aren’t infertile, (Y/n). I know that for a fact-”

“No, but a pregnancy can only happen if your genes are compatible,” you snap, the pupils of your eyes constricting even more as you glare coldly at him. “What do you think happens to women in a situation like that? When you don’t know who is compatible with you?” you question with a cold voice. And Geralt suddenly realizes that he doesn’t know that much about your species as he would like to let on. “They get tossed around, passed on from man to man until they find someone compatible. Even then, your chances of finding someone like that are slim,” you add, dropping your head again to stare at your hands as you breathe out a sigh. “I’d rather never have a child and love one person than get passed around like a piece of meat until I find someone compatible.”

Geralt understands that. Over the past few days of getting to know you, he knows that you’re too strong-minded, you have too much of a strong will to have something like that done to you. 

You shift, shake your head to stop yourself from thinking about this fact and look up at Geralt again. “Besides, your chances all depend on what kind of dragon your parent was,” you mention, making Geralt hum and glance down to his hands. 

Your words make sense. The more common the dragon, the more your chance is of finding someone compatible. But the offspring of a rare dragon… 

“You think your father is a black dragon?” he asks. Your father can’t be a gold dragon because they are sterile creatures. Their mutation that makes them the rarest kind also makes them infertile. So, he has to go with the next logical theory. 

He lifts his gaze up to you as you take a breath. “I don’t know. The only one that has seen my father in his dragon form was probably my mother,” you state, that angry look in your eyes has now gone and a small smile returns to your face. 

Staring at each other for a moment, he can’t help but wonder for himself what kind of dragon your father is. He must be one of the rare kinds, considering how much power you seem to have. Even though you are the first half-dragon person he has met, he’s certain that you have more power than any other half-dragon person that might be out there. 

And though he’s slightly concerned about what will happen to you, now that he knows a bit more about what your species does in order to have children, in order for the species to carry on, he’s sure you can take care of yourself. He’s seen you fight. You’re more than capable. 

But, it’s only his job to get you to where you want to go. After that, it’s all up to you. After that, it’s none of his concern anymore. Right?

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#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt imagine #geralt fanfic #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine #witcher imagine #witcher x reader #her eyes #the witcher geralt

[clown-of-rivia]

Yennefer finding a young boy, still basically a toddler, crying alone in the woods.

Her heart goes out to abandoned kids, unwanted kids. Always has. So she slowly approaches him and talks softly.

Something about his bright blue eyes, red and heavy with tears, and that windswept mop of brown hair stirs a memory.

After some coaxing with food and promises not to hurt him the boy allows her to get closer. She sits next to him as he wolfs down the dried fruit and bread. He asks who is she.

"I'm Yennefer."

"Yennf-, Yenno-... Yen?"

"You can call me Yen if you like."

He smiles. All toothy and trusting. "Thank you for the food Yen. I was super hungry!"

"You're welcome," she smiles back as he picks at the crumb on his shirt. "What's your name?"

"I'm Julian!"

...anyway. Yennefer finding a little Julian who had been cursed after The Mountain. Life took Jaskier off his hands by essentially turning him back into a child.

Yennefer being nr.1 best mom vibes melting for the bright eyed boy who loves and trusts her so easy and hides behind her from anyone else.

Little Julian asking her why she looks sad sometimes and if it is because she is lonely? But that when he is big he is going to marry her and become a knight and protect her so she will never be lonely!

Yen suspects this is Jaskier, but she cannot know for certain. Her magic doesnt pick up anything, but there is a tinge of something unnatural. She also doesnt know what to do with a young boy who has latched onto her. Not that she's worried having a sleeping toddler in her arms while addressing a court is bad for her image, but she's scared because she doesnt know how to do this.

So she takes him to the only place she can think of. To a man who has raised more boys than any other she knows. To somewhere safe where they can figure things out.

She tells Julian they're going to go see Uncle Vesemir.

#the witcher #jaskier #netflix the witcher #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer of vengerberg #Vesemir #my writing