#so they're grateful he's traveling with a witcher now

[oceanmelodies]

[ Simon Gong, nonbinary/gnc, he/him, 78 ] we've followed [ KAI OF NOVIGRAD ] for awhile now, the [ ELF ] has been in Novigrad for [ PERIODS OF TIME DURING THE LAST CENTURY ]. they're known to be [ IMPISH ] and [ SUNNY ]. We find it fascinating that after all these years they [ WORSHIP ] the gods. They often remind us of [ THE SUNLIGHT REFLECTED OFF OF A STEADY OCEAN, A CLEAR SKY, THE WARM HEARTH BENEATH A DECK ]. Our thread has already been woven on what their future is looking like, but we're eager to see the [ SAILOR/NUISANCE ]  experience it.

SUMMARY

Kai was given over as a child surprise as a baby after Kal of Novigrad had spared a small settlement of elves during one of his missions. The brief mercy was awarded with a baby, a prize and a hope that a man so powerful and merciful could do right by an elven child.

For nearly a century, Kai and Kal have traveled together as father and child. Although raised by Witchers, Kai has no interest in partaking after witnessing the 1000 yard stare in his father's eyes and prefers to spend his days with his feet in the sand and water licking his heels.

Although grateful for his comfortable life, Kai's keen on trying to discover what it is that he'd like to do with the rest of his life. After all the stories he'd pried out of Kal, he's near certain that he didn't want violence to be any part of it.

SAILING

Being raised on the coast made him particularly fond of water. With Kal's encouragement, Kai took to sailing early on only to find out later that he much preferred loitering around and fishing over battling raging waters.

MISC.

-Kai is adept at projectiles. He's quite the marksman, thanks to the Cranes who raised him.

-His love for throwing and shooting things comes from a distinct fear of blood. Given a choice of a melee weapon, he'd likely choose a spear to maintain distance but otherwise prefers a bow.

-Given his kind and fearsome father, Kai was given a measure of freedom of expression and tends to lean towards more effeminate fashion and hobbies when he's able to stop by the market.

-He likely has a small spending problem and is a tiny bit spoilt.

-Kai plays the flute.

#nornsintro #about

[blueboltkatana]

Have y'all ever thought about the impact that Jaskiers song/s about a Witcher, on other witchers? Because i unfortunately have...

Eskel goes back to the tavern to get his coin for killing the monster that terrorized the village for months. The owner had been hostile about accepting a witcher into his tavern, but the man who had given him the job requested they meet here after he was done (if he survived). It had taken him a whole day to find, kill and finally bring back the monsters head.

When he enters the tavern, he expects deafening silence and hostile glares, instead he finds the whole room singing jovially and out of tune. A middle aged man plays the song on his lute as everyone yells the lyrics and laughs. Some turn to look at him and- ah now they'll stop and glare, it was about time- they grin, see the monsters head in his hand and then cheer. Eskel is absolutely lost. The tavern is cheering his deed?! Since when? The most he ever got was a grateful but wary Thank you and if they were feeling generous, some free ale, but this!?

The patrons kept singing to the catchy tune as Eskel tried to make sense of the situation. It took a few more seconds for the words of the song to register in his brain

Toss a coin to your Witcher!

Oh Valley of Plenty! Oooh!!

Toss a coin to your Witcher

A friend of humanity!

A song that paints Witcher in a positive light?! That made no fucking sense, no one wrote positive songs about witchers, let alone ones that encourage people to pay them! He's just about to sneak to the corner of the bar and quietly wait for his employer to pay him, then mount his horse and leave before the villagers sobered up, when someone, the tavern owner he recognizes, catches his arm and although a bit reluctantly, offers him a free dinner and a room for the night. Needless to say Eskel is shocked, even if his face doesn't show it, but accepts the offer anyway. The song is played at least 3 more times for the rest of the night and he falls asleep with the tune engraved in his mind, and the lyrics dancing in his ears as he dreams.

. . .

Lambert has just entered the small town when a bunch of kids, playing with long sticks and fake swords, see and approach him. He glares down at them to scare them off so they leave before their mothers see and curse him for daring to look at their children. Unfortunately the kids don't seem to have an ounce of self preservation in them since they barely budge. One looks at him straight in the eye and says "Are you a Witcher?" to which he replies "Yes, and unless your parents want me to kill a monster for them then you should move along and not bother me." He expects them to run away now, after the hostility and the glare to go with it, but the kids only look at each other and grin up at him "Cool! Here!" They put their hands inside their trousers and skirts and pull out... A coin? Bronze coins and silver ones, three of them aren't even coins he's pretty sure they're just wooden disks of the same shape of a coin, they hold them up to him and look at him expectantly. But Lambert is so confused that they might as well be asking him to figure out the meaning of life. Finally the kids get tired of waiting for him to make a move and one suggests "Maybe we need to *toss* them at him! Like the song says!" Absolutely genius! All the kids agree and Lambert finds himself being thrown coins at by a bunch of children and that's what it takes for him to snap out of his confusion. "Hey cut that out! God damn it, what do you think you're doing?!" He yells and that finally attracts the attention of a few adults who recognize his attire and swords. Finally, they'd come and take their children away, maybe curse and glare at him a bit, but at least no more weird brats. What happens though, is not expected at all. A round, friendly looking man comes closer to see if everything is ok, he tells the kids to go back to playing then turns to Lambert and Smiles? at him. "Kids take things a bit too seriously he heh. Are you looking for a job?" No outright fear, only caution of meeting a stranger, no hostility, no cursing at him for talking to the kids. Lambert is starting to think he's going insane or this is the friendliest town in the continent. The man takes him to a bar where a bard is singing. The tune is annoyingly catchy, the lyrics though... What the fuck?! That's why the kids threw coins at him?! A friend of humanity?? Was that the reason no one glared at him when he entered the bar? Just how popular was this song?! Who wrote it? Who would write such a song for witchers?!

When he asked the barman he said a bard named "Jaskier" who travelled with a witcher and wrote ballads inspired by his adventures. The song got changed a lot from bard to bard but the Witcher was always called Geralt of Rivia, The White Wolf. Lambert was sooo going to bring that up to Vesemir when he went back home. But for now he needed a job... On his way home he couldn't stop humming the stupid tune...

When Geralt brings Ciri and Jaskier to Kaer Morhen he expects his brothers to either ignore the bard and act like he doesn't exist, or tease and make fun of him until he leaves on his own. He's hoping for the first option even if it's not ideal.

What actually happens though is beyond his imagination... Eskel and Lambert look at him and then at each other. Then their eyes travel to the bard and the princess at his sides. He prepares himself for the jabs that would soon come from Lambert and the mild teasing from Eskel. Nothing comes, they're looking at him, each with a raised eyebrow "welcome back *White Wolf*" they say and he sighs. "Where's Vesemir?" He asks and the two get up. Ignoring his question Eskel asks one of his own "Soo... Is this the famous Jaskier?" And Geralt can physically feel the thin string of hesitance inside Jaskier snap and he steps up to his brothers. "The one and only! It's a pleasure to finally meet Geralt's family! You two are way more handsome in person than what Geralt described you, but again, he is hopeless with details!" The two witchers look at Geralt pointedly and he shrugs, did they expect he'd wax poetry about their ugly faces?

He gives up on trying to understand what the hell is going on with his brothers, and heads to find Vesemir. Ciri stays behind with Jaskier and they seem to be doing just fine, hopefully they won't eat him alive.

It takes Geralt a few days to realize that Eskel and Lambert have no intention on eating alive his bard, actually, they seemed to want to get to know him, befriend him. They looked at him as if he was some mysterious puzzle they couldn't seem to understand.

It takes him a bit more to realize his brothers are fans of his bard!? He would laugh if it wasn't the weirdest shit he'd ever had to see. Two grown ass witchers, following a bard around like puppies, because they liked his songs?! Ciri thinks it's cute and Vesemir finds it hilarious. Geralt finds he's loosing his mind. And Jaskier? The little asshole is enjoying this whole thing too much, he seems more than eager to give them attention and sing songs about their adventures, which they describe in detail "You should learn something Geralt!".

Geralt just wants to catch a break...

#the witcher netflix #the witcher #ciri #jaskier #jaskier is a bastard #dandelion #witcher lambert #witcher eskel #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #geralt of rivia

[teddylacroix]

... I just woke up from a dream where after Rare Species Jaskier kept finding himself going to towns with some sort of mystery plaguing the people, and he ends up at the court of King Herod, investigating missing/dead children. Because apparently my subconscious remembers more of my Christian childhood than my waking mind does.

Anyway, Jaskier goes to talk to King Herod, and for some reason he's instructed to dance for him till dawn, and then he'd be allowed to solve the mystery. He does, and when he's done, he takes a drink from a nearby goblet because he's parched, and he asks Herod what the children died of.

"Poison," Herod says.

Jaskier looks down at his drink, decides, fuck it, I already drank it, better to die fast than slowly suffer, and drinks the rest. He falls to the floor, dead, just minutes before Geralt busts through the door because he was chasing the same horror story, the same mystery, and had already come to the conclusion that King Herod was involved, but he absolutely had not expected to see Jaskier there, dead at the king's feet.

Geralt is horrified and furious and disposes of the king and his court, and then he hears applause, and there's Jaskier as a ghost, clapping for his brutal display of Justice and Vengeance. Geralt finally apologises for what he said to him on the mountain, pleading forgiveness for being too late to save Jaskier now, expecting Jaskier to disappear at any moment, or go mad, or something, because lingering spirits are never, ever good things, but... Jaskier... doesn't?

Jaskier doesn't know why he hasn't crossed over, but he decides that if he's going to be lingering on the mortal plane and Geralt has gotten his head out of his ass, well, what really has to change? So he goes back to accompanying Geralt on his travels, except now, they never part ways. Now, they don't separate at crossroads to pursue their separate goals. Now, Jaskier is always there, a comforting presence at Geralt's back, keeping him company, warning him of things even his Witcher senses can't detect, still chattering away forever—more, now that he doesn't need to breathe—still composing songs and singing to him and driving him generally mad, but now he's grateful for the nuisance and this strange, sad sort of second chance.

And in time, Jaskier gets more control of being a ghost and figures out how to do it right. In the beginning he's there all the time and visible to everyone, or he's tired/sad/mad and flickers out of sight (putting Geralt in a panic the first couple of times he disappears), out of his control, but eventually he can choose when to be visible and who to be visible to. Nobody else can hear him at first, but he finds his voice eventually, and he can control that, too.

Stories start to spread of the White Wolf and his spectre, where once it was the White Wolf and his bard. Stories of how he can enter a tavern or square, and if you're lucky, you can still hear the dead bard sing into the empty air. Stories of people who try to stiff Geralt of coin until they feel an icy presence cut through them and scream in their heads until they drop to their knees shaking and throwing money at Geralt to make it stop. Stories of people who encounter Geralt on the road, and as soon as they pass him, a voice will pipe up and chatter away, picking up a one-sided conversation.

Stories of the White Wolf tilting his head, looking off into an empty space, and smiling, for no reason anyone can tell.

Better yet, nothing can hurt Jaskier anymore. Even if it's because he's already dead. But he can accompany Geralt everywhere, even into the middle of a battle. He can distract monsters as well as people, because they may be beasts, but they're still mortal. He can scout out a forest before Geralt settles down for the night to make sure nobody is camping anywhere nearby.

Eventually, he can manipulate objects, too. Pick things up in a room and carry and toss them around. Give some nasty person an extra thing to freak out about. Which is all well and good and great fun, but the importance is that it means he can touch Geralt now, too. And his touch may be icy and slight and feel as faint as a fairy's wings beating against Geralt skin, but they can feel it. Geralt can feel the ghostly arms coil around his neck and shoulders after a rough fight. He can feel hands squeeze over his shoulders in the bath in a pale mimicry of shared rooms and baths long past. He can feel invisible fingers comb through his hair, pulling it up and tying it back, scooping out dirt and death and debris.

So Geralt spends the rest of his days traveling the continent and doing his horrible work and finding and raising Ciri and meeting up and parting ways with Yennefer, over and over again, but always with the comforting knowledge that Jaskier is there. Why, how, or for how long, they never figure out, but—well, they're not really looking anyway.

#immortal jaskier #ghost!jaskier #ghosts #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #if you squint #teddy dreams #teddy writes #the witcher #dreams

[oldandkinky]

For the honey series (verse? Whatever?): Geralt desperately trying to be a better mate and to convince Jaskier that he's good for him. Don't ask me why, but I see him asking random alpha and Omega pairs for advice. And one of the advices turns out to be that he should give Jaskier something he would have to be grateful for. So maybe Geralt comes up with the idea of having Essi (I love her. That's all I have to say.) spend the winter with him and Jaskier. -🐭

Geralt is saving Essi for later, but he does ask people for advice. He still manages to fuck things up, obviously.

Contains abusive behaviour, non-con, forced enjoyment.

*********

It's not exactly a reprieve, what Geralt grants Jaskier in the following week, as it is a selfish decision. Jaskier is still injured, and Geralt has little interest in damaging his little mate permanently. They stay in Oxenfurt, in their little inn room that stinks of despair more often than not. Geralt ignores it, simply keeps a window open.

The omega is still quiet, subdued, but at least he answers when Geralt speaks to him. He tenses when Geralt is near but he doesn't flinch away, and that's probably as good as it's going to get for a while. He seems… resigned, after he woke up with terror in his eyes. He'd cried for hours after that.

Jaskier remains shackled to the bed for the most part. It's not ideal, Geralt knows. He can already see the muscle Jaskier had built up from their travels fading, but that is the least of their problems.

While he waits for Jaskier to heal, Geralt takes contracts. A city like Oxenfurt always has enough of a monster problem to keep a Witcher in business for a while. He's just returning from getting paid for getting rid of a nest of drowners near the university, and he crosses the market place, as he does so often on his way back to the inn. He hasn't really paid much attention to things being sold there beyond the basics that he needs, but today something catches his eye.

It's a stall selling jewellery, something he wouldn't look twice at normally, but the glint of the gold and silver in the sunlight catches his eye. It's mostly omegan jewellery, and he makes his way over to have a look. Maybe Jaskier would enjoy a gift like this.

The stall is tended by a couple, an alpha and his omega. The alpha is a broad man with a kind smile, hair going grey, the omega a young woman with fiery red curls. Both look surprised as he approaches, but they're not hostile, something Geralt always appreciates.

"Anything we can help you with, sir Witcher," the man asks, and Geralt hums.

"Just looking." The variety on offer is a bit overwhelming, and the omega seems to sense how lost he is.

"Looking for something for your omega, are ya?"

He hums again, and the alpha huffs. "Didn't know Witchers did that. Mate, I mean. No offense, sir."

"None taken. We don't, usually."

The woman tilts her head, purses her lips. "Tell me about them? Maybe I can help you pick something."

Geralt opens his mouth to reply, but he comes up short. He hasn't thought about it much at all until now but he realises that he doesn't know anything about Jaskier. He knows he likes to sing, and that he loves Essi, knows that he feels better than any other person Geralt has ever had, and that Jaskier hates his guts, but that's it.

He doesn't know who Jaskier is beyond that.

Read the rest on AO3:

#oldandkinky #oldandkinky abo #OldandKinky prompts #OldandKinky Honey #OldandKinky non-con

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Could you write a little "friends to lovers" thing with Jaskier, where they've been friends for such a long time with feelings they've kept away, for the risk of ruining their friendship, but they act SO MUCH like a couple that people keep asking if they're dating and they're both secretly dying inside every time someone asks

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Jaskier x Reader Word Count: 895 Rating: G Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training @morelikebyesexual a/n: I hope you like it! xo

You stumbled into the inn behind Geralt, soaked through from the rain and stained with mud from jumping into puddles. Jaskier took the lead on booking the rooms as always, quickly moving ahead of Jaskier with you close behind. There was no one at the counter yet and as you waited you noticed a smudge of mud on Jaskier’s cheek.

“Hold still,” you said, pulling out a handkerchief.

“Oh, thank you love,” Jaskier said, holding still obediently and giving you a bright smile when you pulled away.

“There,” you sighed, “Now you’re perfect.”

“Will it be the one room tonight?”

The two of you turned, startled to find the innkeeper had returned. You often fell into your own little world together and had throughout your long friendship. Through time your attention strayed from simple friendly attentiveness to romantic, longing gazes, but you kept the feelings to yourself, grateful for the friendship you shared with the bard who had surprisingly few.

“Yes! One room will be just fine,” Jaskier replied. The innkeeper smiled and Jaskier gave him his name.

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Pankratz, your room will be-”

“Oh! No we-”

“We’re not-”

“I mean I’m honored but-”

“It’s just we’re close in a differe-”

Geralt sighed heavily and cut through the two of you in your awkward babbling to seize the key from the bewildered innkeeper. He’d grown weary of this conversation, being forced to listen to it again and again throughout your travels together. People always assumed that you and Jaskier were a couple and in Geralt’s opinion you were the only ones who didn’t realize that they were right. There was an intimacy in friendship and even a love that could equal the most torrid, passionate love affair, but you two had moved past friendship long ago. In truth, Geralt wasn’t certain if Jaskier had ever only held friendly feelings for you. The fact that the bard hadn’t tried too hard to woo you spoke more to his deep feelings than the floweriest song ever could. It was sweet, but it was also damn irritating, and Geralt stalked off to the room to leave the pair of you to finish your usual corrections.

“Apologies, I just assumed…” the innkeeper said.

“It’s not uncommon,” you said, shrugging casually.

“Indeed, it’s as if people can’t just be friends anymore,” Jaskier laughed, a bit too loudly. You avoided each other’s eyes and the innkeeper glanced between the two of you with a strange look but ended up choosing not to comment. You and Jaskier thanked the man and again and then walked towards the room in a slightly awkward silence.

“Silly,” you muttered.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, just, so many people think we’re together,” you said with a small, humorless laugh.

“Well they do me an honor by making that assumption,” Jaskier said. You bumped him with your shoulder and he nudged you back, twin smiles on your faces, twin traces of pain in your eyes.

“Why do you think they think that, though?” Jaskier asked, pausing outside of the room to ask. You stood facing him, considering your answer very carefully, blinded to the look of hope in his eyes by your nerves.

“We are very close,” you said, “And we’re comfortable with each other.”

“Ah, that’s true,” Jaskier replied, “Likely comes of traveling together.”

He turned to open the door.

“Well…”

Jaskier turned around, hope returning to his downcast eyes at your interruption.

“I mean… we travel with Geralt as well and nobody ever thinks we’re together, even when you aren’t with us,” you pointed out. He leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing you with a contemplative look. The azure eyes gazed into yours with a quiet intensity that made you feel exposed and vulnerable, but you didn’t look away.

“Well, I suppose that makes sense at least.  Geralt doesn’t appreciate you the way I do. Perhaps they can sense my deep, unyielding…appreciation,” Jaskier said, looking askance at the last moment.

“He doesn’t make me feel the way you do,” you admitted. His eyes found yours again and your heart leapt to your throat.

“Oh?” he asked, “And how would that be?”

If there was ever a time to tell him, it was now. He was your best friend and even if he did not return your feelings, you knew he would be kind. You knew it was now or never. You knew a lot of things but you couldn’t make your mouth form words, staring at him silently, hoping he may see the truth in your eyes. He nodded and took a deep breath before giving you a slightly sad smile.

“Silly,” he said, echoing your earlier words. He turned and quickly opened the door which met with sudden resistance. When the door opened fully Geralt stepped away from it, rubbing his nose.

“Geralt! Are you alright?” you asked.

“Fine,” he said, a grumpy edge to his voice as he moved towards the door. He paused before exiting and turned to you.

“Y/N, you should know that I appreciate you. Very differently, but very much.”

He didn’t wait for your response, quickly leaving the room to you and Jaskier who shared a confused expression before falling into laughter. The tension eased away and you fell into your usual rhythm.

One day, you promised yourself. One day I’ll tell him.

#Anonymous #Jaskier x Reader #Jaskier imagines #Jaskier fluff #reader request

[returnedtoashes]

Thomas had come to him late this night. But not with words and gestures that could only remain between them as long as they were on ground that belonged to the Inquisitor King. No. This night he came with fear in his eyes, laboured breath from running and hands grabbing at Miller's coat.

"You have to leave! They are coming - they're coming to get you!"

Thomas was already rushing to grab whatever belonged to Miller to put it into the bagpack the soldier had brought. He had never been so agitated and Miller's questioning look would be answered with shame and guilt, as Thomas shook him once more.

"My apprentice... he swore in front of the monastery that you are a witcher... he somehow gave them proof of his accusations! They say you bewitched me. They say you deserve to burn! You have to leave before they get here! Now!"

It was a small miracle that he was still awake. Soon Nathan would stir, if his schedule this past week was reliable. He saw little reason to even tempt fate by laying down on his bedroll. His luck he'd drift right to sleep, only to be torn out of it from the cries of a very unsettled baby boy.

Yawning wide, Miller barely had time to react when Thomas burst inside his makeshift hut like a man running from the law. "What?" he dumbly asked, shaken completely out of his sleepiness in mere seconds. Who were 'they'? This behaviour was completely unlike the kindly builder who had helped make this shelter.

"Thomas." he urged, trying to keep his voice level. "Slow down, tell me what has happened?" He watched as the man he loved tore around and shoved his meagre belongings haphazardly into his travelling bag. He was grateful he hadn't reached for Nathan in this state — he was utterly fraught.

"He did what?" Miller questioned. It was a punch to the gut, that much was true. The boy hadn't been kind. Quite the opposite, he'd been antagonistic, but he chalked it up to feelings of jealousy that Thomas wasn't devoting all of his time to his apprentice. Of course he still got the lion's share of Thomas' attention but he must have been watching them closely. Must have seen something, however guarded they had been it wasn't enough. "No, Thomas — I can't just leave without you and Mila. Both of you are in as much danger in this, don't you see? You're accused of being betwitched now but I know these lands. I have been a slave here for longer than I have been a free man and I know first hand these accusations always get twisted. Where is Mila? Tell me she is somewhere safe."

#in-rush-we-trust #answered #muse; Miller #verse; medieval #This only ends well #>:|

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Could you do a little fic where the reader super nervously asks Yennefer to help her look beautiful to impress Jaskier? Like maybe they're going to a fancy ball or something and she knows she needs to stand out among all the gorgeous women, and shes super intimidated by Yen but loves her dresses and makeup and wants some help?

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Platonic!Yennefer x Reader, Jaskier x Reader, Geralt x ExasperationWord Count: 1,822Rating: GTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak a/n: Genuinely, truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Love me some Yennefer x Reader bonding.

You’d been standing outside of Yennefer’s door for about 10 minutes trying to summon the courage to knock. You knew, logically, that the worst thing she’d likely do is say no. Even if she laughed at you that would be survivable. But she also might say yes, a thought that equally frightened you but also gave you a glimmer of hope. You were out of your depth in preparing for the ball tonight and while Jaskier had offered his services you wanted to make sure he didn’t see you until you were ready. You just needed to get past this damn door first and then, if she said no, you’d throw yourself on the mercy of the shopkeepers and maybe that was the better plan anyway because Yennefer was likely quite busy and-

“Are you going to come in or not?”

The door had swung open mid-thought and Yennefer stood before you. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her makeup was already applied, a jewel-toned emerald shade gracing her lids and her lips a deep berry red. She wore a robe, not yet dressed, and she gave you an amused expression as you stood there gaping.

“Oh! Yennefer! Hello! Fancy meeting you in your room! I had a question,” you began. Yennefer patiently waited for you to continue speaking and when you felt certain she wasn’t going to close the door in your face, you continued.

“I’m going to that ball tonight and I don’t now much about… any of it,” you said.

“Any of it,” she echoed.

“Yes well I mean I know how to dance, sort of, and I’ve read about them but getting ready for one is totally foreign to me. Literally. They don’t really have balls where I’m from. Small village and all,” you were babbling but Yennefer considered your dilemma thoughtfully before standing to the side, leaving room for you to enter.

Though you all had similar rooms in the manor you were staying at, courtesy of the host of tonight’s ball, Yennefer’s struck you as much more refined. There were a couple of dress options, it seemed she was leaning towards either a black or gold gown, and you saw the vanity where the makeup she’d used was still sitting.

“Do you have a dress?” she asked, circling you.

“Um yes and no?” you said and when she gave you an inquisitive look you gestured to the simple grey frock you were wearing.

“Alright let’s start there,” she said, pulling open the wardrobe where you saw flashes of colors, dresses of varying hues and fabrics.

“Yennefer, that’s very generous and kind but what are the chances of a dress you own fitting me exactly the same I mean you’re much taller for one thing and-”

“Magic,” she said offhandedly as though it were obvious.

“Wait really?”

“Yes, did you choose grey or was that just what was available?” she asked, quickly moving past the many questions you had about the kind of magic that could make any article of clothing fit anyone.

“It was available,” you replied.

“What is your favorite color?” she asked, hands skimming through the dresses as you thought.

“I love purple but it doesn’t look good on m-”

“Try this on,” Yennefer says before you can finish speaking, tossing a dress into your arms. The silky fabric is cool to the touch and you have to grip it so it doesn’t slide right through your arms. You hold it up in front of you and then turn it around a couple of times. When you start to turn it upside down Yennefer stops you.

“I’ll help you put it on,” she suggests and you give her a grateful smile. Once you’re down to your shift Yennefer waits, still holding the dress.

“I’m ready,” you say.

“No, that has to go too,” she says, “There’s a slit.”

You didn’t know three words could inspire that much panic in a person but you were learning a lot of things today. You dutifully took off the slip, down to a simple corset and small clothes, and Yennefer unlaced the side of the dress and had you step into it. She murmured a few words you couldn’t understand and then slid the dress up your frame, the fabric contouring onto your body as though it had been tailored to you specifically. Once she finished lacing up the sides she turned you towards the full length mirror and you gasped.

“Oh no,” you say, “Oh no this is… Oh.”

The dress is held onto your body through the amethyst toned strap on the right arm which winds down, tucking into the bodice of the dress which is made up of mesh and detailed flowers in complementary violet hues. The skirt is long and loosely flowing with a little train and a slit that runs from halfway up your left thigh to the ground. Your leg peeks out boldly and you don’t quite know what to do.

“Do you like it?” Yennefer asks.

“It’s gorgeous but… it’s maybe too gorgeous?”

“Let me ask you a question. Why did you ask for my help tonight?” she asks.

“As I said I wanted help,” you repeat.

“Yes but why?”

“Because it’s my first ball and I want to look put together.”

“That’s not the real reason, is it, Y/N?” Yennefer asks, violet eyes peering into your face as though they already knew the truth but needed you to say it. You take a deep breath.

“I want Jaskier to notice me,” you say, “Really notice me. There are going to be many beautiful women there, women that look more like you than me, and I just don’t want to get lost in the crowd.”

“Alright,” Yennefer says, still eyeing you appraisingly, “Now tell me, how do you feel when you look at yourself in this dress?”

She redirects your eyes back to the mirror, hands on your shoulders and you aren’t sure if it’s to keep you pointed at it or just for moral support.

“I feel… powerful,” you answer. Yennefer smiles and meets your eyes in the mirror.

“This is the one,” she says with certainty and you can feel it too, nodding and nervously biting your lip. “Ok, there’s much more to be done.”

She pulls you over to the vanity and begins to brush through your hair with surprising tenderness. She doesn’t ask you what you want done with it, both of you trusting that she knows what to do from this point on. Instead you talk about the balls she’s been to in the past and she answers the questions you’d felt too stupid to ask like which fork to use and if there was an order to who was able to dance first and how often she’d have to curtsey. She braids your hair into a loose French braid, tucking it together with little ornaments that complement the dress you wear. She threatens to spell your face frozen while she puts on your makeup but you manage to get your twitching under control long enough for her to brush your lids with a soft purple shade and identical wings of black eyeliner. She chooses a subtle shade not much different from your skin tone for your lips but even the subtle change helps emphasize their fullness.

“Thank you for not laughing when I told you about Jaskier,” you said as she held up two pairs of earrings, trying to choose which goes best with your ensemble. “I know I must sound like any number of his adoring fans.”

“You sound like a woman in love. I don’t judge. For all of our blustering I’m not unaware of the bard’s charms,” you look at her in surprise and with a tiny bit of possessive suspicion.

“Luckily my taste in partners is much less refined these days,” she adds with a little smile and you smile in return. Once you’re done she quickly slips into her own dress, choosing the gold one which you help lace her into though you know she could do it on her own. You look each other over appraisingly and while you can’t help feel a bit overshadowed with Yennefer standing beside you, you feel much more prepared for what’s to come than you did before.

“Is Jaskier going to walk you down?” Yennefer asks as you leave the room.

“No I wanted to surprise him,” you answer. Your heart is skipping a few beats as you stand out in the hall where people are starting to enter, on their way to the ball as well. You see a few admiring eyes looking you over and it simultaneously makes you feel bolder and scares you. As though she can sense your distress Yennefer links an arm through yours and stands up a bit straighter causing you to unconsciously mimic the movement.

“Shall we?” she asks. You nod and the two of you join the growing throng walking to the ballroom.

“Have you seen her yet?” Jaskier asks Geralt, the fifth time in as many minutes.

“Still no Jaskier,” he replies.

“I knew I should have gone to walk her down myself. What if she gets lost? What if someone is trying to make advances on her? What if she changed her mind and doesn’t come down at all?”

“What if she’s standing right over there,” Geralt says, pointing towards the entrance of the ballroom where Jaskier sees Yennefer and a woman walk in together.

“I was talking about… Y/N?” Jaskier turns back, eyes still catching up with what he’s seen. He isn’t sure at first if it’s you but then you catch his eye and smile and he’d know that smile anywhere. Then his eyes travel further down and he sees parts he is nowhere near as familiar with. Yet.

“Geralt, Jaskier,” you say when you finally reach them, fighting the urge to curtsey at Yennefer’s suggestion to avoid making any such gestures unless those around you do the same.

“Y/N,” Jaskier breathes but says nothing more, mind fruitlessly searching for the right words. Geralt gives you the briefest of nods and then his eyes are back on Yennefer’s.

“You look wonderful,” you say as the silence grows awkward, Jaskier’s big blue eyes still as wide as they can get.

“You… I… Y/N… There are no….”

You see Yennefer look between Jaskier and Geralt and she gives him a meaningful look.

“Why don’t you ask her to dance, Jaskier?” Geralt asks with a heavy sigh. Yennefer smiles approvingly and gives you a supportive wink.

“Y/N, would you do me the great honor of having this dance with me?” Jaskier asks. You giggle.

“Gods, Jaskier, it’s still just me,” you say, taking his hand and letting him lead you away, past a crowd of nobles, past the Countess de Stael whose presence he neither notices nor cares about in the slightest.

#Anonymous #platonic!yennefer x reader #jaskier x reader #geralt x exasperation #reader request