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bloededhoine · 3 years

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world building cause twn doesn't part 10: the law of surprise

arguably one of the most confusing parts of the witcher universe that is never really explained outright. BUT it is clearly super important, so let's go! also huge thanks to the people i bugged for slavic and biblical stories, i promise i'm not making some devil deal.

colour code cause i fucking love colour codes - already happened/introduced, probably s2, important background info, stuff that might be in the prequel, extras

series masterpost

origins

the law of surprise is actually a major theme in slavic mythology, which is probably why we never get a straightforward explanation about it. the witcher was never really meant for a non-slavic audience, so sapkowski likely assumed that the reader would just know what he's talking about

traditionally, if you asked the devil for something, you would pay him with "what you had left at home without knowing or expecting it"

witchers were said to be servants of the devil, and therefore would request the law in payment for their services

there's even a version of the law in the old testament! the judge jephthah led the israelites in a victorious battle against the rival kingdom of ammon. in exchange for defeating the ammonites, he vowed to sacrifice whatever came out of his door first when he came home. this turned out to be his daughter, and, while he regretted it, jephthah sacrificed her to god

how it works

put simply-ish, the law of surprise states that when someone is saved by someone else, the saviour can request a payment that is unknown by both parties at the time of the deal.

confusing? yes? allow me to explain

first, the law only applies to life or death situations. nothing else. some people even take this to mean that the only reward for saving someone's life is the law of surprise, but that's less common.

still, it's very widely believed that the law of surprise is the best payment for a life debt. this goes into the whole destiny thing which i'll talk more about later.

witchers are notable for claiming the law because their occupation tends to lead to a lot of life-saving, but it's not exclusive to the witchering profession

so, when you save someone's life, they will ask you how they can repay you. you then can enact the law of surprise, which entitles you to something that neither you nor the person you saved know exists yet.

for example, pavetta's father, roegner, fell into a ravine and broke his legs, but was rescued by duny. as duny's reward, he invoked the law of surprise. roegner didn't know that his wife was pregnant, obviously duny didn't know this either, and that baby belonged to duny

requests

this is just what comes after the classic "you've saved me! how can i ever repay you?" "well, i think there's something that we both might like..." *smooth jazz starts playing*

ah shit that's the porno version!

so sorry, here's the real version

when someone asks how they can repay you for saving their life, there are two basic requests you can make, either "the first thing that comes to greet you" or "what you find at home but do not expect".

the first one is less severe, and can really be anything, ie a dog that runs outside or a visitor at the gate (not really sure how that one would work logistically)

the second one is more common and powerful, as it's almost always a child. usually the person who is rewarding the law comes home and finds out that their wife is pregnant or had a baby. oops?

geralt requested "that which you already have but do not know" from duny, which is a variation of the second one that almost exclusively means an unborn child, just wrapped in convoluted packaging. our favourite witcher is really smart but also really stupid.

payment

obviously, the logistics of actually picking up the thing that you don't know about are pretty confusing

but it tends to work out in one of a few ways

sometimes the unexpected thing makes itself known right then and there, like with geralt and ciri. in this case, the person who did the saving will just decide what to do with their reward.

more frequently, the person who was saved will bring the person who did the saving to their house, where they will both find something unexpected.

in this scenario, the unexpected thing can either be taken by the person who did the saving immediately (usually in the case of an animal), or they will come back and get it in a few years (usually in the case of a child). do they come back and get it? results vary.

occasionally, the person who did the saving will just book it, either trusting destiny to deliver them their reward when the time is right or hoping that destiny is a myth and they don't need to actually get their reward.

destiny

it makes sense that destiny is a huge part of the law of surprise, given both of their important presences in the witcher

the law of surprise is the most common payment for a life debt because when you save someone's life, you are acting on behalf of destiny to allow them to survive something that they shouldn't have survived, but were destined to

destiny also ensures that the reward will always be received. geralt denied his reward for years, but we all know how that turned out.

that's why eist tuirseach was so ready to throw down at the idea of the law of surprise not being honoured, if someone claims the law of surprise, you have to respect that.

examples

obviously, the most notable example is ciri and geralt. you probably know the story from twn, but the book version is slightly more dramatic so i'll tell it in brief.

geralt saved duny from certain death after calanthe ordered his capa detated from his body. geralt claimed the law of surprise almost as a joke and well...

but of course this story gets far more complicated. in those 6 years, pavetta and duny had died and calanthe didn't want to give away her only descendant, so she just kinda didn't.

five years later, geralt and ciri met face to face but geralt refused to take ciri, believing that he would only bring her death. she was devastated, since this forced her to be sent back to her grandmother who just wanted to marry her off to some prince.

around a year later, after the sacking of cintra, geralt saved a farmer named yurga from some ghouls. believing that his first child surprise had died with the rest of her family in the palace, and feeling just generally ironic, geralt claimed the law of surprise again.

turns out, that which yurga had at home but did not expect was none other than ciri, who miraculously escaped the palace and made it to yurga's home. having claimed the same child surprise twice, geralt finally took ciri as his daughter.

duny also claimed the law of surprise, but since he was like 15 at the time and was promised a baby, he decided to come back later and see what destiny could do in a few years.

turns out destiny created a 14 year old that was just perfect for duny's 29 year old wooing. yeah. it's... something. but, from their unholy union we got ciri! ew but yay? i guess?

eskel also claimed the law of surprise twice, first was the princess deidre ademeyn, who eskel avoided for years in a very geralt-fashion. the second was his horse named scorpion, whose story went decidedly smoother

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

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You Set My Heart Ablaze (24/25)

Warnings: Jaskier has a small panic attack in this chapter, but Geralt helps him through it. The whole thing is barely a paragraph.

_______

Saturday.

Finally!

The first day of the summer holidays! Jaskier had barely been able to resist throwing his arms around Geralt the day before when the fireman had come to collect Ciri after school but they’d both agreed that they should at least try to wait until the weekend. So he’d forcibly stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled on his feet. He couldn’t help the dazzling smile he flashed at Geralt but at least he managed to keep his hands to himself.

But that was now a thing of the past.

He sat up in bed with more energy than he’d had in the mornings in years. He pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his hair as he searched for his phone within the pile of sheets. He found the bastard under one of his pillows and immediately rang Geralt without looking at the time.

It rang a few times before Geralt picked up.

“The fuck?” Geralt grumbled into the phone.

Jaskier frowned and pulled the phone away from his ear so he could look at the time. “Oh shit!” He cackled and then put the phone on speaker. “Sorry, darling. I’m still on school time.”

“Jaskier, you’re never on school time, even during term time,” Geralt muttered.

“Oh shush. I just wanted to say that I love you!” He trilled happily.

Geralt grunted.

“Oh ho ho! Aren’t you a grumpy arse this morning?” Jaskier giggled and rolled onto his back, planting his legs up against the wall.

“Fuck off.”

“No! Because it is the school holidays and I, Jaskier Pankratz, love you, Geralt Rivia.” He sighed wistfully.

“Hmm.”

“Geralt!” He whined.

He knew the fireman was tired but he could at least say it back once. The fucker.

“Love you too, now can I get back to sleep?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Yes, dear heart, but call me when you’re awake, alright?”

“Fine.”

The line went dead.

The bastard.

He considered going back to sleep himself but he had too much energy. He jumped out of bed, tripping over his shoes that were on the floor right by his bed, and went flailing across the room.

“Oh cock!” He cursed as he landed, rather painfully, against the door. He would probably have a lovely bruise on the hip that crashed against the wall, but it was better than landing on his wrists and breaking them.

He sort of needed those to play his instruments.

He supposed he could always just sing.

Nah. That was shit.

Plus Priscilla would kill him if he couldn’t finish up the new album. He still had at least one lute track to put down, and even though she could play the lute, he was more skilled and she preferred to focus on the singing. She’d complained enough about his insistence on using the lute over the guitar on this album but he’d refused to back down. He had a vision!

So fuck the guitar.

He sighed and straightened his glasses, frowning as he noticed the smudges on the lenses. How the fuck were they already dirty? He’d only cleaned them last night before bed.

Fuck it.

Pancakes!

Ooh he could make the chocolate chip kind and send photos to Geralt. They had an unspoken rule that one did not make chocolate chip pancakes without photographic evidence unless they were both there to enjoy it. He frowned as he reached the edge of his living/kitchen area, and stuck his tongue between his lips. Maybe he should wait until he could make pancakes with Geralt and Ciri? He didn’t want to make them too often. They wouldn’t be special if he made them too often.

He scoffed. “Yeah, well. I’m hungry.” He muttered. He gazed longingly at the flour and sugar on the top shelf of his cupboards and then grabbed a box of chocolate cereal instead.

Yes he still ate chocolate cereal. The boring old flakey stuff was shit and he actually had taste buds. He preferred his food to not taste like cardboard.

Gods, how was he an adult?

He sighed and scrolled through the social media on his phone. Triss had put up a few pictures from the pub the night before. He’d reluctantly declined the invitation as the wolves were going along, even though Geralt had stayed behind to look after Ciri. There were quite a few of Triss and Eskel pulling funny faces at the camera, and one adorable photo of Triss kissing his cheek. Eskel looked incredibly happy. They were cute together. Jaskier hit the heart button and typed out a string of heart-eyes emojis in the comments.

Even Yennefer had put up a rare personal post. She normally kept her social media for her art stuff but there was a stunning photograph of her outside the pub. She was wearing a long white chiffon dress matched with a leather jacket and heavy leather boots, not exactly summery but it was Yennefer. She was gazing off to the side, her face lit by dull glow of the street lamps, one fiery violet eye almost glowing in the darkness.

Jaskier pouted. How was she so fucking photogenic all the time? Seriously how was Geralt now dating him after that?

“Urgh,” he groaned and hit the heart button.

JaskierTheBard: Stop making us all look bad, Yennefer! Stunning photograph darling x

He reread the reply twice and hit send. It was kinder than he usual response to Yennefer but honestly he had to admit she was a little bit sexy in that one, which just wasn’t fair.

Renfri had posted a group photo of the whole gang and he whined. It looked like a fun night. Stupid Philippa and her rules. It wasn’t fair that he had to miss out, but thankfully those days were officially over!

He lost track of time as he scrolled on his phone. He swore as he suddenly remembered his cereal. He groaned as he peered into his bowl. The milk was chocolatey and the cereal had all but disintegrated. He fucking hated soggy cereal.

“Cock,” he muttered and threw the whole lot in the bin.

He was about to put some toast on when his door bell rang. He yelped and jumped at the sound. He looked down at himself. He was still just wearing his boxers. Fuck. He ran to his bedroom and grabbed his dressing gown. It was too hot really to wear it in the summer but he wouldn’t have time to get dressed.

As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered. Geralt was at the door holding a bunch of roses with a sheepish smile on his face.

Jaskier grinned. “Geralt!” He flung his arms around his boyfriends neck and then swore as he realised he was probably crushing the flowers. “Umm, let me just go get some water. Wait. These are for me? They are beautiful. Geralt!” He whined and covered his face in his hands.

Geralt, the fucker, just laughed at him. “They’re for you. I thought… well, Ciri said I couldn’t go on a date without flowers. She was really stubborn about it.”

Jaskier snorted and carefully took the flowers from Geralt. They weren’t too badly crushed, thank Melitele for that. “I wonder where she gets that from,” he teased.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Calanthe, her grandmother. Even Pavetta had a stubborn streak. Trust me, this one has nothing to do with me.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit! I’m sorry. I forgot. I didn’t mean… hmmph!”

Geralt had kissed him.

Not that he was complaining. He smiled into the kissed and then pulled back to gaze into Geralt’s beautiful amber eyes.

“You don’t get to do that every time you want me to shut up, dearest,” he chided gently.

Geralt smirked and just kissed him again.

Ok so perhaps he could.

Gods he was so smitten.

“I love you,” he breathed against Geralt’s lips when they finally pulled apart.

Geralt brushed his nose against Jaskier’s. “I love you too, even if you do have morning breath.”

Jaskier gasped and shoved against Geralt’s chest. “Rude!” He pouted.

“You love me,” Geralt reminded him. “How are you not dressed yet? You’ve been awake for hours.”

Jaskier shrugged. “Internet.”

“Come on, get dressed. I want to take you out.” Geralt instructed with a tilt of his head.

Jaskier laughed. “Take me out how? Kill me or date me? Honestly I’m down for both.”

“Jaskier!” Geralt growled and rolled his eyes.

“Kill me, right. Got it,” he winked at his boyfriend. “Now are you absolutely sure you want me to get dressed? Because I have the perfect outfit to wear but once I’m in those jeans I am not taking them off again,” he stroked Geralt’s cheek with one finger and then bopped him on the nose.

“Hmm. Brush your teeth and I’ll get water for the flowers.” Geralt took the roses back off him. “Do you have a vase?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Of course I have a vase. I’m gay!”

“That’s not an excuse for everything, Jaskier, and I’m pretty sure you’re bi,” Geralt rolled his eyes.

Jaskier laughed. “That’s just homophobic.”

“That’s not—” Geralt cut himself off and pinched his nose. “Bathroom. Now. I’ll find the vase.”

Jaskier giggled happily and went to brush his teeth.

Oh sweetest Melitele! He loved the summer holidays!

__________________

After a few false starts they finally made it out of Jaskier’s flat. He was slightly regretting his choice in black skinny jeans but really they made his legs and arse look great. It was was his first proper date with Geralt and he wanted to look good. They both managed a quick shower and Jaskier braided Geralt’s hair to elevate his usual half up do. Geralt even let Jaskier slip a couple of buttercup clips into the braids.

Geralt was wearing the outfit he’d turned up it which Jaskier hadn’t managed to appreciate before but he could now as he gazed happily at his partner across the table. Geralt had also gone for black skinny jeans, thank you Freya, and a slick black short-sleeved shirt. Honestly Jaskier didn’t know how the man wasn’t boiling in the heat of the summer in all that black but he wasn’t going to complain. It was the first time he’d seen Geralt in a shirt and he was loving it.

In comparison Jaskier had decided on a bright turquoise shirt. He’d left the bottom few buttons undone and tied the ends in a knot to turn the shirt into a crop top. The intensity of Geralt’s gaze on him when he’d finally been allowed to see the whole look had almost cause yet another delay to their date but Jaskier had just winked and pulled his slightly dazed partner out of the flat, switching his glasses for his prescription sunglasses.

He had been far too hungry to delay any further and he wanted to go on a cute date with his boyfriend!

Geralt suggested an adorable little sandwich parlour. It didn’t look like much from the outside but inside it was cosy and quiet, a perfect lunchtime date spot.

Or it would have if they hadn’t been interrupt by Lambert and Renfri… again.

Seriously, every time they ended up in a coffee shop those two were there. They both had wet hair and flushed red faces. Jaskier assumed the pair of them had been at the gym. Geralt had mentioned they liked to spar together on the wolf pack’s days off, that and the work out clothes sort of gave them away.

“Well, well, well,” Lambert laughed as they approached and crossed his arms. “So much for Triss and Eskel’s theory of you moving on, Dandelion.”

Jaskier gaped at the redhead. “Wait what? Have you been talking about us?!” He pointed a finger at the pair of them.

Renfri rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly think they have anything better to do? I’ve had to keep my mouth shut for months whilst these idiots try and think of a plan to set you two up. Triss was heartbroken when you told her you’d moved on. She was really rooting for you guys.”

“Wait, you knew?” Lambert growled at Renfri, she just shoved him in the face.

“Of course I knew. It was fucking obviously. You just had to look at Geralt’s face whenever Jaskier was mentioned. He lit up like a petrol can.”

“Renfri,” Geralt sighed. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Renfri snorted and Jaskier cackled. Oh ho! He was going to have so much fun with this. He held Geralt’s hand over the top of the table and smiled at his lover. “Oh darling, I didn’t know you cared so much,” he simpered with a flutter of his eyelashes.

“I’m pretty sure I showed you how much I care this morning, more than once.”

Jaskier blushed and pulled his hand away. “Touché, dear heart, touché,” he licked his lips as he remembered the morning’s activities. “Please, feel free to remind me any time.”

“Nope!” Lambert yelled and covered his ears. “No. You are not going to be that couple. Urgh.”

“Months I’ve had to put up with this!” Renfri complained. “Come on, wolf. Let’s leave the love birds in peace. They’ll put me off my lunch otherwise.”

“So gross,” Lambert agreed.

Jaskier laughed as the pair of them scarpered from the shop, and he rested his head on his chin as he ate his chips. They were like the kind you get in fish and chip shops and covered in blessed salty goodness. Geralt, the monster that he was, covered his with vinegar so Jaskier wouldn’t steal his chips as well.

“So what’s their deal?” Jaskier asked though mouthfuls of delicious fried potato.

Geralt tilted his head, he also now had a mouthful of cheesesteak sandwich.

“They said they weren’t dating?” Jaskier tried to explain.

Geralt huffed and Jaskier waited for him to finish eating. “Renfri doesn’t date. She has no interest in it.”

Jaskier nodded. “Asexual?”

Geralt shook his head. “Don’t think so. Just the dating thing,” he scowled as he tried to formulate his thoughts. “I think she called it aromantic, but even then her and Lambert are practically siblings. They’d probably both stab you for suggesting anything else.”

“Right. Noted. Rather not be stabbed. I made it all the way through the school year. It would be a fucking shame if I got stabbed now,” he flicked his fringe from his eyes. “Especially when you look so bloody sexy in that shirt.”

Geralt scoffed. “Says the man wearing a crop top.”

Jaskier grinned and leant forward so his lips were almost touching Geralt’s. “It would look better on your bedroom floor, darling.”

Geralt’s eyes went dark and Jaskier kissed the tip of his nose. “But not yet. I’m starving and these chips are brilliant! I cannot believe you would ruin them with vinegar.”

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re a fucking tease, Jaskier.”

Jaskier just laughed and brushed his foot up against Geralt’s leg under the table. “You love it,” he agreed with a wink.

“Hmm.”

“You doooo,” Jaskier insisted. “And you love me!”

“I admit nothing.”

“I’ll make it up to you later?” He flashed his most flirtatious grin at Geralt, rubbing his foot further up Geralt’s leg.

“Jask,” Geralt half moaned and Jaskier laughed at the pretty blush on Geralt’s cheek.

“Yes, dearest Geralt?” He sang, feigning innocence.

“I hate you.” His boyfriend groaned and hid his face behind his hands.

“I know, love. I know.”

____________________

Jaskier was busy pulling on one of Geralt’s hoodies that he’d pinched earlier on in their relationship, when Geralt sighed loudly. Jaskier bounced back over to the bed and straddled his boyfriend’s hips.

“What’s up, dear heart?” He said with a tilt of his head.

Geralt’s long hair was now loose. Jaskier had taken great delight in undoing his own work and letting the silver strands fall loosely by Geralt’s face. His hair was naturally wavy after a shower anyway but it had been accentuated where the braids had been, and by the gods, Geralt had looked so beautiful. He still did. Only now he had his grumpy face back on. Jaskier gently stroked his thumb along Geralt’s cheek, brushing a loose strand away from his eyes.

“We need to tell Ciri,” Geralt groaned.

“Already? I thought we were going to tell her we’re friends first.”

“Won’t work.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow and huffed. “And why not?”

“She’s too clever, and I love you,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier felt his smile soften at Geralt’s words and he shifted so he could lie back down on Geralt’s chest, nuzzling into the crook of Geralt’s neck. “And I love you, my dearest of hearts.”

“Hmm.” He felt Geralt kiss the top of his hair and he sighed happily.

“So we tell her when?”

“Come home with me?” Geralt suggested. “She knows I was on a date.”

“It has been a long date,” Jaskier hummed thoughtfully, and it really had. Geralt had arrived mid-morning at it was now late afternoon bordering on early evening. “Won’t she be worried about you?”

Geralt chuckled and Jaskier felt his heart race faster in his chest. Geralt’s laugh was so warm, rough and woefully underused. It always made Jaskier’s day when he could make Geralt laugh so freely. “Yennefer took her to the zoo. She thought we might need the extra time.”

Jaskier giggled. “I cannot imagine Yennefer Vengerberg at the zoo!” He laughed harder as he pressed his face against Geralt’s bare shoulder.

“Why?”

“Oh I don’t know,” he grinned, placing a kiss on Geralt’s shoulder. “She seems too classy for the zoo.”

Geralt threaded his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and he hummed in contentment. He’d always enjoyed it when his partners played with his hair. The gentle tug at his scalp just turned him to goo. If he was a cat he was sure he’d be purring. As it was he couldn’t stop the happy hum in his chest.

“No one is too classy for the zoo,” Geralt said with such sincerity that Jaskier let out a peal of laughter and rolled onto the mattress next to Geralt. He felt Geralt roll onto his side and their eyes met. Geralt was smirking at him with mirth in his eyes.

Jaskier was overwhelmed with the love that was in his heart. In reality his time with Geralt really hadn’t been that long at all but it had just been blissful. Their forbidden romance seemed to have extended their honeymoon period and he still felt as gooey over his boyfriend as he had the first time he’d seen Geralt enter his classroom ten months prior.

“Quite right, dear. I love the zoo,” he sighed longingly. It had been ages since he had been.

“Next time we’ll go.” Geralt suggested. “I like the animals.”

“Deal. Ooh does this mean I finally get to meet Roach?!” He cried in excitement, a smile lighting up his face.

Geralt nodded. “She doesn’t like new people though. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Jaskier reached over to kiss Geralt and then rest his forehead against Geralt’s. “Of course not, darling.”

“Good…” Geralt paused. “Darling.”

Jaskier’s heart clenched in his chest and he buried his face in one of the pillows of the bed, making sadly incoherent noises that he wasn’t proud of. “Geralt!!” He whined pitifully. “You can’t just say things like that!”

Geralt scoffed. “You do all the time.”

Jaskier glared at him with a pout. He could feel the heat of the blush on his cheek. “Yeah, well…”

“Don’t worry.” Geralt smirked, kissing Jaskier’s temple. “I don’t think pet names are my thing.”

Jaskier pouted. “Hmmph.”

Reluctantly he rolled off the bed and pulled Geralt to his feet. With one last kiss he let Geralt get dressed. His boyfriend really did need to get back to Ciri and apparently Jaskier was going to be re-introduced to the young girl as her father’s new boyfriend; only a day after the term had finished.

Jaskier wasn’t nervous. Why would he be? Ciri loved him… as her teacher. Oh gods, he was going to fuck this up so badly. His heart was racing, and not in the good I’m in love way. Oh no. No, no, no, no.

He gasped a breath and leant against the wall. Geralt’s arms wrapped around his waist in an instance. “Breathe, Jaskier.”

Jaskier breathed, trying to match his breath with Geralt’s. “Sorry,” he mumbled when the worst of it was over.

“What happened?”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He asked, his voice sounding pathetic even to his ears.

“She adores you, Jaskier.” Geralt nuzzled his neck gently. “She was disappointed when I said it wasn’t you.”

Jaskier groaned. “She’ll hate that you lied to her.”

“She’ll come round.” Geralt insisted.

“How are you so calm?” He snapped.

Geralt sighed. “Because she’s my daughter and she loves me, and she adores you.”

Jaskier nodded. “Ok. Ok. Yes. Let’s do this, before I run away and decide to live in a cave with just my lute for company.”

Geralt scoffed. “Always so dramatic.”

Jaskier managed a smile at that, even after his little wobble of anxiety. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

__________________

They were standing, hand in hand, outside Geralt’s house. Geralt and Ciri’s house. Jaskier hadn’t been here since the beginning of May when Ciri had been away with Yennefer. Ciri wasn’t away this time and they were about to reveal everything to her. He curled his toes in his shoes and hummed nervously under his breath. Geralt’s house suddenly seemed a lot larger than it had before.

Geralt squeezed his hand. “It’ll be fine, Jask.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “I know. I know. I trust you.”

“Come on then. You’ll stay for dinner?”

Jaskier nodded again. “But I should probably go home after dinner. I imagine we’ll both need our own space by then.”

Geralt chuckled quietly. “Yeah. Ready?”

“Yes?” Jaskier’s voice squeaked a little, much to his embarrassment.

“Good.” Geralt moved to unlock the front door but it opened before he could get the key in the lock.

Yennefer stood on the other side with her hands on her hips. She was smirking at them both, looking far too evilly delighted for Jaskier’s liking.

“MR JASKIER!!” Ciri shrieked and there was a blur of blonde hair before Jaskier was knocked flying by the young girl.

He laughed nervously and hugged her back. “Hello, Ciri.”

“I knew it was you!!” She screamed happily. “Dad said it wasn’t but I knew it was you!”

“You don’t mind?” Jaskier asked, tentatively patting his former student on the back as she clung onto him.

Ciri pulled back and looked up at him. Her nose was scrunched up and she pouted. “Why would I mind?”

“Well, because I was your teacher and now I’m dating your father?” Jaskier stammered. He glanced at Geralt who just raised a knowing eyebrow at him. The bastard had known this would happen.

Ciri rolled her eyes and scoffed. “So? Everyone will be jealous. You’re the best teacher at school!” She announced as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “Maybe you shouldn’t boast too much about it Ciri. It’s not kind.”

Ciri just stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his tongue out right back at her and she giggled.

“Jaskier’s right, princess. It would be best if you don’t tell everyone just yet,” Geralt said as he scooped her up into a hug.

“But it’s Mistle’s birthday party next week!” She pouted.

“Ciri,” Yennefer sighed, brushing the young girl’s hair out of her eyes. “Can we trust you to keep this a secret for now?”

Ciri scrunched her nose but nodded. “Ok, but only if we can go back to see the lions at the zoo! They were my favourite.”

Jaskier met Geralt’s eyes and smiled. “Well, buttercup, funny you should say that….”

____________

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #modern au #wolfie's witcher writing

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king-finnigan · 4 years

Note

I don't know if you're taking requests right now but could I maybe get a drabble about Jaskier and Geralt his pretend boyfriend going to Cidaris and meeting Valdo Marx?

Geralt is very much regretting saying yes to this whole ordeal, as he squeezes himself into a slightly-too-tight doublet the colour of the night sky. Sure, he’s grateful he doesn’t have to wear anything with colour in it, and these clothes fit much better than the last time Jaskier had forced him to attend a party, but still - he prefers his armour, or something he can at least properly move in. He’s not looking forward to having to spend the night in a room full of nobles, either, or to having to pretend he’s Jaskier’s lover.

He sighs. “Why the hell did I agree to this, again?” he mutters to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

He hears the door open, and looks up, any and all regrets flying out the window as soon as he sees Jaskier.

“The- the...”

Jaskier looks down at himself, before looking up at Geralt again. “Do you like the dress?” He gives the Witcher a little twirl, the soft, light fabric of the skirts billowing around him. Geralt can see that Jaskier’s back is almost entirely exposed, the cleavage at the front showing off his chest hair. There are tiny, clear gems embroidered in the pale silver fabric of the dress.

If Geralt’s clothes make him look like the night sky, then Jaskier’s make him look like the moon.

He’s gorgeous. Geralt shrugs. “It’s fine.”

Jaskier smiles at him. “You and I both know I look better than ‘fine’, my dear Witcher. What I need to know is: is this going to make Valdo Marx jealous?”

Geralt swallows thickly, and offers Jaskier his arm. The bard takes it, grinning up at the Witcher. “Definitely,” he mutters, and Jaskier’s grin only widens.

The bard gestures to the door. “Let’s go, then. Let’s ruin my ex-boyfriend’s night.”

---

The second they step through the large doors, Geralt already knows he’s going to have a shit night. There’s not a lot of people in the room - and those who are there are all nobility - so their entrance draws everyone’s attention. Jaskier grins at the sudden audience, his presence next to Geralt the only thing keeping the Witcher sane, and bows at the nobles.

Luckily, after a few seconds, people seem to lose interest, and most look away. Jaskier tugs him towards the tables against the wall, filled with food and drinks. “Come on, let’s get some alcohol. I don’t feel like suffering tonight sober,” Jaskier whispers, soft enough that only Geralt’s heightened senses pick it up.

He lets himself be handed a glass of wine, and sips as he stands next to Jaskier, both of them looking around the room. “So which one is Valdo Marx?” he asks the bard.

“None of them,” Jaskier whispers back, and Geralt can’t help but notice how his lips are stained red slightly from the wine. “He always likes arriving way too late cause someone he knows once said that it makes him look better.”

“Whoever told him that lied.”

Jaskier chuckles softly, taking another sip of his wine. “That, I did,” he whispers into his cup, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Geralt makes a mental note to make sure Jaskier never gets angry with him, because his bard sure seems to know how to ruin someone’s life.

Geralt’s attention is drawn away from the bard when a middle-aged man and a slightly younger-looking woman approach them.

“Ah, the Duchess of Iylico, and of course her handsome husband, how lovely seeing you two!” Jaskier exclaims, raising his cup in greeting.

The Duchess and her husband stop in front of them, the woman giving them an appraising look, the man staring blanky ahead. “Master Jaskier, so lovely seeing you here. That is quite a dress, you look absolutely lovely,” the Duchess says.

Jaskier smiles at her. “Why thank you! But of course, one could never be as lovely as the Duchess of Iylico, herself. You look splendid as always, Martha.”

The woman blushes a little at the praise. “Oh, stop it, you. Say, master Jaskier, will you be performing tonight?”

“I will not, unfortunately.” He leans towards her, a bit conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “Of course, I would never arrive so late if I were.”

She nods. “He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Quite a travesty, if you ask me.”

“A disgrace, indeed,” Jaskier agrees, sipping wine from his cup. The Duchess excuses herself, and moves on.

Eventually, a door in the back of the room opens, and a tall, slim man walks in, his curly, blond hair reaching down to his shoulders, his outfit too bright and entirely too pompous, and Geralt quietly blesses Melitele that Jaskier doesn’t dress like that - compared to Valdo Marx’s outfit, Jaskier’s almost looks humble.

“That’s him, that’s Valdo Marx,” Jaskier hisses to Geralt, entirely unnecessary, and the Witcher nods.

The troubadour of Cidaris starts his performance, and though his music isn’t all that bad, it doesn’t hold Geralt’s attention for long - the language too flowery and complicated, the songs too long-winded, his voice only slightly above average. Clearly, he isn’t the only one who gets bored of Valdo Marx, and after half an hour or so, the conversations have picked up again.

Jaskier goes to fetch another cup of wine, and as he goes, Geralt can’t help but be distracted by the way the skirts of the dress billow around him, the way the open back shows his toned muscles and soft skin. The Witcher’s so distracted, in fact, that he doesn’t notice Valdo Marx has stopped playing until the man is right in front of him, drawing his attention away from his own bard.

Valdo makes an exaggerated bow that has Geralt fighting not to roll his eyes. “My, oh, my,” the troubadour says, “am I mistaken or are you Geralt of Rivia, the Witcher?”

Geralt nods curtly. “Hmm.” He notes in the back of his mind that Valdo Marx smells of cheap wine and dust, barely masked with way too much lavender perfume.

“Quite an honour to meet you, Witcher.” He doesn’t say those two syllables the same way Jaskier always says it. It almost sounds hungry, and it makes Geralt’s stomach churn lightly.

“Hmm.”

“So, what brings you here, Geralt of Rivia?”

“I do.” Suddenly Jaskier is back by his side, a new cup of wine in one hand, the other splayed across Geralt’s lower back possessively, and the Witcher feels himself relax slightly. “Lovely seeing you again, Valdo. That performance was quite... something.”

“Why thank you, Julian. And thank you for honouring us with your presence, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” He looks Jaskier up and down. “I suppose you got off the road only just now?”

Jaskier smiles broadly, but it looks so fake to Geralt it makes him slightly uncomfortable. “Well, I could ask you the same thing, since you were so horribly late. Did no one ever tell you it’s not polite to be late? You’ve made a bad impression on the Duchess of Iylico.”

Valdo’s cheeks start to redden slightly, and Geralt can hear his heartbeat picking up. “Well, that’s unfortunate. Though I’m glad I at least have a reputation to tarnish. Unlike some bards.”

Jaskier laughs, throwing his head back, though there’s no real mirth in his voice. “Oh, Valdo. I do have a reputation, but it’s mostly outside of the walls of Cidaris. I’m quite well-known both in the smaller towns all across the Continent and in Cintra’s court. I was even invited to play at princess Pavetta’s engagement party, a few years ago, and have been invited back every year since. Of course, you wouldn’t know that if you never leave Cidaris. Maybe it’s time to do so, dear, I don’t think I’ve heard your name in years.” He turns to Geralt. “Have you, my love?”

The Witcher startles slightly, but quickly shakes his head, fighting to hide his smirk at the anger he can smell in the wine-dust-lavender-scent of the troubadour of Cidaris. “Unfortunately, I’d never heard of you until Jaskier told me about you, good sir,” he says to Valdo Marx, who turns even redder.

“Really?” The troubadour says. “I presume you two don’t talk a lot, then.”

“Oh, we do,” Jaskier says, a sly twinkle in his blue eyes. “At least, not unless our mouths are otherwise occupied.” He winks at Valdo, who suddenly turns pale, the redness draining from his cheeks as he looks between Jaskier and Geralt.

“Ah, so you two are...”

“Lovers, yes,” Jaskier fills in for him. He smoothes his hands down his dress, making the gems shimmer in the candlelight. Geralt watches Valdo’s eyes follow the movement, sees him swallow thickly, the anger in his scent making way for slight arousal. “Well,” Jaskier continues. “We must go, don’t we, Geralt, darling?”

Geralt nods, laying a hand on Jaskier’s waist, the fabric of the silver dress soft beneath his fingers. He bends towards his bard’s ear. “As gorgeous as you look in that dress, I can’t wait to tear it off you,” he half-whispers in Jaskier’s ear, way too loud, trying not to grin as the arousal and anger spike in Valdo’s scent again.

Jaskier laughs, slapping his chest lightly. “Geralt! This dress is expensive.” He turns back to Valdo. “Well, it was absolutely lovely to see you, dear. Until the next time?”

He turns around before Valdo can answer, the soft skirts of the dress swishing around him, and Geralt follows him through the large front doors.

---

Jaskier breaks out in giddy giggles as soon as Geralt closes the door to their room at the inn behind them. “Did you see his face? He was so angry.”

He can’t help but grin at Jaskier’s mirth. “He was. I could smell it on him. He’s still attracted to you, too.”

Jaskier gives him a delighted smile. “I knew the dress would work. And I knew our little charade would work, too!” He walks towards Geralt, laying his hands on the Witcher’s shoulders, Geralt’s own hands settling on Jaskier’s hips without a second thought. “You did amazingly, Witcher. Thank you for indulging in my little revenge plan.”

“My pleasure,” Geralt replies. “I can see why you don’t like him.”

Jaskier smiles at him for a little longer, before stepping a bit closer, his smile turning sly. “Did you mean it when you said you couldn’t wait to tear this dress off me?”

Suddenly, he can smell arousal, thick in the air around them, though he’s not sure if it’s from him or Jaskier. He bends forward, nosing at the sensitive spot under Jaskier’s ear, and he figures it’s from both of them, as the scent spikes. “I did. Though you look gorgeous in it as well.”

Jaskier’s heartbeat is rabbit-fast against his lips, and he can’t help but grin. “Well-” the bard swallows thickly. “I would prefer you keep it intact, but I’m sure I would be able to get certain... stains out of it.”

Geralt smiles, moving back a bit, looking into impossibly blue eyes, pupils blown wide, arousal spiking in the air. Jaskier’s lips are still a bit wine-stained, and Geralt can’t stop himself from kissing them, licking away the taste, his bard sighing into his mouth softly, contentedly, slender arms looping around Geralt’s neck.

Eventually, he breaks the kiss off, leaning their foreheads together, hands gently stroking over the soft fabric of the dress. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he whispers.

Jaskier grins back at him.

#dhwty-writes #squish answers #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #drabble #been waiting for an excuse to write jaskier in a dress for a while now #yes it's the same dress as yen wears in ep 5 #i just think he'd look really good in a dress #sue me #valdo marx

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ibelieveindragons141 · 4 years

Note

Hey! Can you write about Jaskier and the reader being married and having a small daughter, please? Thank you!

Domestic Bliss

Jaskier x reader

Word count: 907

Summary: You, Jaskier, Geralt, and your daughter Daisy spend an evening together.

"I can't believe it," your husband looked over to you with astonishment written all over his overly expressive face.

You just laughed and shrugged, looking back over at the most unlikely sight imaginable: Geralt of Rivia, a witcher, playing with your daughter, Daisy; throwing her up in the air and catching her again, causing her childish shrieks and giggles filled the air.

You leaned over to rest your head on Jaskier's shoulder, "I told you he would be a perfect uncle."

He wrapped an arm around your waist. "And yet again, my love, you were right." He kissed the top of you head lightly.

Geralt eventually put the four year old down and carried her over to you and your husband before placing her in your lap. You wrapped your arms around her and kissed her rosy cheeks, Jaskier ruffled her hair.

"Dinner?" You asked, standing up.

"Starving," Jaskier replied, picking up your daughter and placing her on his hip.

"Geralt?"

The witcher only hummed.

Jaskier, ever the "Geralt translator," as he put it, clapped the witcher’s shoulder and chuckled, "Of course you're joining us, old friend. You wouldn't miss dinner with such fine company for all of Cintra!"

Both you and Geralt rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at Geralt's lips betrayed his amusement.

Jaskier and you lived in a small house on the coast, the two of you of you purchased it when you got pregnant with Daisy. Geralt visited as often as he could, and even brought Yennifer to help you through labor. You were a family, a little one, but a good one.

You tucked Daisy into bed and joined the two men at the small dinner table. You sat down at Jaskier’s right, across from Geralt. Jaskier shot you a small smile when you joined them, then turned back to peppering Geralt with questions about his latest selkimore hunt.

You stared at the two men sitting at the table with you and you heart nearly burst with the sheer amounts of love you felt for them. Geralt, the monster hunter who hid a big heart behind an emotionless façade. And Jaskier, your husband and the father of your child, who wore his heart on his sleeve and lived to put smiles on everyone’s faces. He was the love of your life.

You met at the betrothal of Pavetta in Cintra many years ago. He had flirted with you all night; touching your arm, fixing your hair, and sending you cheeky winks during particularly rowdy songs, until he finally asked you to dance. He whirled you around the floor holding your waist tightly to pull you ever closer to him. It was a magical night. When the flighting broke out, he made sure to keep you safely behind him as he brandished his lute to fend off anyone who might hurt you in all the chaos. Him and the Witcher fled almost immediately after, and your heat broke at the thought that you would never see him again.

Years passed. You fled from your boorish life as a noble woman to work at an inn that Jaskier eventually stumbled into after a shouting match with Geralt (who, admittedly, did most of the shouting). The two of you picked up where you left off, and after Geralt’s surprisingly heartfelt apology, the three of you began traveling together. A melodic voice shocked you out of your thoughts.

“Y/n, my love? Are you alright?”

You blinked. Jaskier was looking at you with a furrowed brow.

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine,” you reached across the table to grab his hand. “I was just... thinking.”

He smiled that soft smile he reserved only for you and pressed a kiss to the top of your hand. You blushed and locked eyes. He leaned over to you and your lips connected. You cupped his check, he grabbed the back of your neck, and Geralt shifted uncomfortably.

You finally pulled away and glanced at Geralt who was awkwardly looking everywhere but at the two of you.

“My darling,” you whispered, “As much as I would love to continue this, I think we might be making our lovely guest a little uncomfortable.”

Jaskier glanced at Geralt and sighed. “I suppose your right, my dearest. But you must forgive me, you look absolutely ravishing in that dress.” Then he pulled you in for another kiss.

“Jaskier!” You laughed, playfully slapping his chest, “Stop it! There is no need to torment Geralt any longer. Just look at the poor dear, he looks as if he wishes for some horrible creature to strike him down!”

Now it was Geralt’s turn to blush.

Jaskier held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I know when I’ve been defeated.”

“Sing us a song, bard.” Geralt grunted.

Said bard’s whole face light up and he rushed off to grab his Lute.

When he returned, Jaskier played nearly every song in his vast repertoire. The ballads celebrating Geralt’s achievements aimed at him, and the love songs filled with longing and heartache and lust sung just for you.

Daisy heard the laughter and music and snuck out to join you all. She sat on your lap, alternating between sleeping and watching her father perform.

If anyone glanced into your cozy home that night, they would have seen the fond glint in Geralt’s eyes, the excitement in Jaskier’s, and the adoration in yours.

A/n: I hope you liked this! I’ve never written a reader x Jaskier before, tell me what you think! :)

#jaskier #jaskier x reader #x reader #the witcher #geralt of rivia #reader insert #yennifer #dinner #lute

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callmeunstable · 4 years

Text

Angels & Demons - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Characters: Reader, Godling, Savilla, Jaskier

Summary: After finding a friendin Jaskier their friendship get tested. Unsure of the danger ahead Alva tries her best to live in the village.

Warnings: Cursing, Blood, Death

Words: 2.000+

A/N: Hey! This is the fourth part of my fic. It took really long this time due to personal problems. I’m sorry but it probably will happen again. Thank you for you patience and enjoy!

Disclaimer: GIF’s and PNG’s are taken from Tumblr and are not mine! Credits to the creators!

Tags: @marvelbrat @charliestuff

Song:

“Did ya hear the rumors?”

“The folks are saying the Nilfgaards want to overrule Cintra.”

“That’s never been a secret, mate. Cintra will fall and we all know that.”

“Got to hell. Our Lioness is strong. Don’t ya ever doubt her skill.”

These were the latest accusations browsing around the village. Cintra, the kingdom Alva was currently staying, was about to fall. The men were right when they're saying that. Even Savilla was under tension these days. She said they could arrive any day by now.

The Lioness was the Queen of this state. Calanthe of Cintra, known also as the "Lioness of Cintra" and "Ard Rhena" called by the Elders. The mother of Pavetta, and grandmother of Ciri. She was known for her bravery and beauty. That is at least what she figured while serving in the tavern. She heard tons of rumors but couldn’t understand what that meant for her.

Sevilla had already started packing the most important goods and she collected all the money she received. Rarely spending anything except for once. She bought two horses. They weren’t expensive she said and necessary for traveling.

When the Nilfgaards want to overrule Cintra the will stop here. Their town was called Walen. It’s close to the capital of Cintra. Where the Queen and the King had their castle. It may be a small village but you will get everything you need in this town. Food, animals, tailors, and a blacksmith.

Overall this village was not a poorly town. It had more than enough money to keep everyone well fed through the winter, which was a rare thing in this century. They didn’t necessarily depend on other nearby villages. They made everything they could need by themselves. Sevilla already had a plan figured out. James was still living in his forest and promised to alert them directly if he’d see something unusual and he would try to save them some time. In the beginning, Alva didn’t understand why the had to take all these precautions until the mage explained it to her. The Nilfgaardian Army was strong and powerful. They raided villages, stole their good, and raped the women. Their goal was to overrule Cintra, which means they wouldn’t hesitate to torture the people living here to receive any information they would mark as useful.

It was horrible and disgusting but it was the way this world worked. You have to protect yourself because nobody else will.

The job at the tavern kept her busy. It was quite fun now that Jaskier decided to stay. She liked his singing and his humor, even if sometimes he’d get on her nerves. He was flirting with every woman he could come across and needless to say, it didn’t stay with flirting if the girl agreed.

Gladly Jaskier understood rather quickly not to tease Alva's patience because she didn’t care about the girly behavior this world was used to. She was quick with grabbing any nearby object and chasing the bard with it. Once or twice even with his lute.

She would consider them both as good friends, which is why she was asking the bard about his plans when the Niflgaards arrive. “They don’t scare me. I’m not scared of anything. I could even get some new stories to tell in my songs.”

The bard was sometimes naive but he assured Alva that he knew what was coming and that he will be prepared.

Another day another workday for Alva. It was all peaceful and quiet, especially in the mornings. She liked that shift a lot. But not today. She was the first server to enter and she quickly realized that. Dozens of mugs were laying on the floor, bear and gin spilled everywhere.

“Was there a party I don’t know about?” Alva let that question settle in the room, soon recognizing that no one was there to talk to.

“All right, fuck all of you then.”

“Why you gotta be so mean all the time?”

The mumbling sound of Jaskier's voice broke the silence and Alva spotted his hat in one of the corners of the room. The rest was hidden behind a barrel. He looked rather ruff. His Jacket was thrown on the chair beside him and his shirt was unbuttoned pretty far down. Thankfully he had his pants still on.

“Because you're sleeping quietly in your corner while I have to scrub the floor that you probably spilled you drink on.” Alva throws her bag at Jaskier, hitting him right in the belly.

“That was uncalled for. And to be exact it wasn’t only me. The men last night were enormously friendly and gave everyone a drink for free. Let me tell you it was fantastic.”

“Glad to hear you had a good time. Did you earn more than usual.”

“Probably. Can’t remember if I shall be completely honest.”

That sounded like typical Jaskier.

Alva grabbed some towels and a bucket, filling it with water and soap. She dipped one into the liquid and searched for her target. Jaskier was standing a few meters away. His back was facing her.

“Don’t you know that turning your back to someone is just plain rude.” And with these words, the towel was being thrown, right on Jaskier's head. But the bard didn’t seem to mind the wet cloth sitting on top of his head.

“What the hell are you doing Jaskier?” The girl made her way over to him, to take a look at the interesting thing Jaskier was concentrated on.

She didn’t like was she was seeing. Jaskier had opened her bag and grabbed one of her leather notebooks, Sevilla gave her exactly 3 of them, so she could keep track of this world and for anything else, Alva wanted to write down.

“You lied to me!” Jaskier let out an offended sigh. “You are a bard yourself and you didn’t tell me? I'm deeply offended, Alva.”

Alva tried to snatch the book out of his hands, unsuccessfully. “Jaskier, I will kick your ass! Give it back!” Jaskier was probably about 1 ½ head taller than Alva. That made it far more difficult.

“Why would I? These are amazing. Why did you hide them from me?”

“I’m not a bard Jaskier. I just like to write songs, get it?”

“You have to sing for me sometime or at least allow me to use some of your poetry.”

“For Christ's Sake Jaskier give me the book or I will kick you in your balls and that is a promise.”

Jaskier's shocked eyes stared her blank in the face. “No need to threaten me. But I've heard worse than that.” The bard still didn’t give the book back. Alva was struggling to get hold of his arm, that he held far up in the air.

“That’s so romantic. May I quote ‘I've been hiding for so long, these feelings they’re not gone, can I tell anyone?’ What a poet you are little girl.”

“Jaskier I’m begging you, please stop!” Alva knew what the next line read. And she knew in which time frame she was captured. This will not end well.

“Why this is adorable! ’Afraid of what they'll say, so I push them away. I'm acting so strange.’ Does someone have a crush on good ol’ Jaskier?”

“Jaskier you don’t want to read further trust me.” Alva stopped reaching for her journal. It wouldn’t change what would happen next, she was too small and Jaskier to stubborn.

“’ They're so pretty it hurts. I'm not talking 'bout boys, I'm talking 'bout’ … oh.” There it was. Would he hate her now? Was she about to be abandoned from this village? She had no idea what would happen next.

“I’m sorry, Alva. I didn’t me to intrude your privacy.” Jaskier looked ashamed. That was a surprising sight. He quietly closed the book and handed it to her. She grabbed it and stuffed it bag in her back.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“No, don’t be afraid. I don’t mind that. It’s just a bummer, I thought you had a swarm for myself. I guess I was wrong.” Jaskier let out a friendly laugh and scratched the back of his head.

“Wait, you don’t hate me?”

“Why would I? I mean I’m fond of women myself so why would I blame you? I’m just a little bit disappointed. I thought maybe I had a chance to win you over, at least for a night.”

Alva punched Jaskier softly in his side.

“You’re a douche. But if you want to know. I still think men are attractive. But in my opinion, women are as well. So why exactly decide?” Alva tried her best to explain Jaskier with the easiest way that she’s bisexual.

“Does that mean I still have a chance of winning you over?” Jaskier's typical smirk was setting and he wiggled with his eyebrows.

“Technically yes, but no thanks.”

“That was disappointing.”

The day went quietly after this. Alva was happy about the fact that Jaskier didn’t mind her sexuality at all. He was indeed a great friend. He kept it a secret as he promised. And he didn’t change one bit.

A couple of weeks later they were walking back from the village that was next to Walen. It was a one-day march but it didn’t bother them. Sevilla sent Alva to get herbs she ran out of and Jaskier gladly announced himself as her companion. He didn’t want her to get lost and a woman should never walk alone, in his opinion.

It was only about a half an hour walk left, they were just arriving in the forest of James when they saw black smoke rising from the direction they were heading. “What the hell?” Alva didn’t understand what that was supposed to be. It was new to her that the village people used smoke signals.

“That’s not good.” Jaskier started to run, Alva behind him. What’s happening? “Why are we running?”, called Alva so Jaskier was able to hear her through the cracking branches they were running over.

“I think Nilfgaard reached Walen! Hurry!”

Anxiety was crawling up her throat. This couldn’t be real. Sevilla warned her but she never took it that seriously. She thought this would never happen.

“Alva!” The familiar voice of James was ringing in her head. The Godling used this method a lot to talk to Alva without needing to be seen.

“What is happening, James?” “Nilfgaard raided the village not even ten minutes ago. You need to run away! Not in the direction of the village! It will be your death!” The Godling was panicking like a child. His voice sounded helpless.

“I have to make it. I need to see if Sevilla is okay. Can you shield us? I beg you, James.” Alva needed to flee with Sevilla, she was not going to leave her there. “I try my best. But there are too many. You won't have much time.”

“I don’t need long, just help us!”

In the far Sevilla's house came in sight. It looked like normal, only the pots and jar outside the house were broken.

“Be quiet. I saw some soldiers not far from here. It's Nilfgaard. We have to leave!” Jaskier was pushing her in a bush, trying to have at least a little bit of cover. Screams and cries became audible. Uncontrolled and painful.

“Sevilla had a plan. I need to get her. We have horses. You can come with us Jaskier. But I need to get Sevilla, do you understand?” Alva was determined.

She was not going to leave her. She was like a mother to her, all this time. She gave her a home when anyone else would have left her to die. The girl pushed the fabric of her dress aside, grabbing the hidden dagger.

“You are crazy! Going in there.”

“You will not stop me.”

“Alright then. Let’s go, you crazy girl. When we die, at least we’ll die together.”

They were slowly approaching the cottage. Trying to make out any sound.

“There is no one around you. You can enter.” James was back in her head. Alva didn’t hesitate anymore, breaking through the door.

It was horrifying. Everything was broken. All of the herbs were ripped out of their pots. All of their clothing was laying ripped on the floor. The fireplace was burning and tons of papers were stuffed into it.

But the worst thing was yet to come. Sevilla was laying on her stomach. The back part of an arrow was sticking out of her back.

“Sevilla!” The girl let out a shrieking scream. Jaskier quickly covered her mouth and held her in his arms.

The was so much blood. All of her clothes were colored in a dark red. She wasn’t moving anymore.

“Alva, you need to listen to me.” Jaskier was grabbing her face and trying to get her to focus. “I know this is hard but you have to grief later. She wouldn’t want you to die here. You told me she protected you, I understand. But we have to leave.”

Alva was frozen, not even noticing her tears falling to the floor. “I can't keep them away much longer Alva!” A panicked voice ripped her out of her trance state.

She wouldn’t want her to die. She has to live for her. “T- The rug. Under the rug.” Jaskier pushed the carpet aside and a hatch became visible.

Jaskier opened it and there were 6 bags stuffed together. Each of them grabbed three.

Alva was still looking at the corpse of Sevilla. She was lost in this world once again. No help to escape it.

“The horses! Where are they, Alva?” Jaskier started to panic like the girl.

“Behind the house in the shed.”

Both ran outside, with a last glance at the mage they left. The horses were still outside, visibly unsettled.

“Help me saddle them. Hurry up!” They fixed the straps and secured the bags. While doing that a not fell out of the pockets attached to the saddle. Quickly picking it up she stuffed it on the inside of her pants.

“You need to ride with this dress. Are you able to do that?” Jaskier wanted to make sure the girl stayed focused. It was the most important thing at the moment.

“N-no, I can't. B-but.” She held up her dagger and sliced the fabric of her legs. Ripping every single part of it off her body. Anger was building up in her body. “Stop that! We don’t have time for one of your outbreaks. Get up! Now!” Jaskier helped the girl on the horse and fastly climbed on the other one.

The horses picked up on speed. They could sense that they were in a dangerous situation. Alva looked back at the small village she called her home. But now she has to travel into the unknown with a bard my her side.

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lunarthedragon · 4 years

Text

Demon!Jaskier Part 3

Part One: here | Part Two: here

+++

He likes the quiet worlds. The worlds that are stuck between wars, between enlightenment, between art, between history. When people are just people, never to be written into their books or scrolls or tombs.

It is quiet. It is honest.

He thrives off the delicate moments of reality. The joy and entertainment not meant to sooth a wound. Not meant to pride over philosophy.

It is pure-honest-raw. Mindless laughter, never forced. A burn from an oven, not a pyre. A bruise from a toy ball, not a fist. A cut from a page, not an axe.

He likes these best.

+++

He does not wake slowly. He is unconscious and then not. There is little difference, little change, except how others perceive him, and he never cared much about that anyway.

His chest has been wrapped in thick bandages. Not to heal, but to keep blood off the lovely, fine sheets. The curse is gone, he can feel the push-pull on the wound has been relieved, and he begins to mend the hole.

There are still black veins along his bared limbs and his eyes are pitch black as they look to the sorceress sitting at the foot of the bed. Her back is to him. She does not know he is aware.

He recedes back into his body as the wound heals, feeling like wet wax in a mold, wanting to harden and take shape but never quite-right.

The black veins recede, but his eyes stay dark.

“Hello,” he says, his voice an echo in his cavernous body.

The sorceress stills, startled, but composes herself quickly as she looks around at him. There are designs, freshly painted, on her front, and he tilts his head at them.

“You’re awake,” observes the sorceress, slowly standing, attempting to look bigger than she really is. Chaos envelops her like an old friend, in a way he has seen so few sorcerers and sorceresses do – too frightened, too lost, too greedy – and he straightens back up.

“Yes,” he says. He would usually be more talkative, but he is flayed and speaking at a distance, far away in his own body, and he would like to slip back into an unconscious state. Make his body prone and receptive. Fill in the corners of that mold and dry until he can momentarily pretend that he fits.

“You are—”

“I don’t like you putting spells on my friend,” he cuts her off, black eyes blinking slowly. He never was spectacular with his filter.

The sorceress arches a brow, delicate and strong in a single motion. Impressive. “Now, how would you know about that? You were asleep,” she accuses without actually accusing. Jaskier thinks he quite likes her.

“Was I?” he questions, lips stretching into a too-big, too-thin smile.

The sorceress narrows her purple eyes suspiciously, turning to pace to the other side of the bed, like a prowling panther. “You are not human,” she says, then scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Clearly. Energumen?”

“I really would appreciate it if people would stop calling me that,” he huffs, pouting, and adjusting to sit back against the headboard of the bed.

“Demon, then?”

“Close enough,” he shrugs, setting his hands in his lap.

“Certainly something strong enough to pick a fight with a djinn and survive,” the sorceress observes. “I know you do not hold the djinn’s wishes. I know it is Geralt, despite him saying otherwise.”

“Likely attempting to explain the wound,” Jaskier nods.

“Claimed a wish gone bad,” the sorceress explains, “That you’d wished never to have your heart broken again.”

“And he calls me the dramatic.”

“And now, he has done what I needed done and waits where I can easily retrieve him.”

“Yes…” Jaskier pauses to look around the, frankly, lovely room. “Where is Geralt?”

The sorceress sneers, somehow still beautiful, and says, “What? Don’t know everything after all?”

“Of course not, Y̸͖̓̏ẻ̵̚ͅn̶̐͜n̷̳͒ę̸̒f̴̫̽e̷̖̜͝r̷͔͚͛,” the sorceress startles as he tears her name from the void, from her chest, from the past and present and future. “If I knew everything I wouldn’t bother living in your worlds. It would all be far too boring.”

Yennefer storms back to the foot of the bed, a firestorm in her eyes waiting to come loose. She glares at him, glares down to the pieces of him that still remember agony.

“Either you will help me,” she says, warns, commands, “Or I will fetch your Witcher and use the djinn.”

“You will never bear children, Yennefer of Vengerberg,” he says calmly, casually, as he slips sideway and sits on the edge of the bed. His doublet and chemise are missing, likely too stained with black ooze to ever be recovered, and he begins to unwrap the bandages around his chest. His skin is whole again, no flesh scar in sight, but he still feels it. Faint and fading. A ripple to be ironed out.

“Excuse me?” Yennefer says, hardly more than a whisper, the firestorm within growing so hot she coats herself in ice to combat it. “You have… No idea what I—”

“You are familiar with the conjunction of the spheres?” he cuts in, not in the mood for… whatever had been winding up there.

“What? Yes, of course!” Yennefer snaps, sharp as icicles.

“I predate that. Predate your sight and your books. Your cells and your marrow,” he says lowly, looking towards the sorceress as he wraps up the black-stained bandages. Dark veins that match his eyes reappear on his shoulders and arms. Comfortable. Familiar.

“I have lived far more lives than you can imagine. I have experienced heartache, fury, sorrow, euphoria. I have been a mother, a father, a killer, a savior. Do not claim I do not understand, for I understand more than anyone,” he heaves a breath he does not need, “Speak clearly. Your wild rage falls on deaf ears until it can be wielded.”

“Order to my chaos?” Yennefer snarls, a memory in her eyes that Jaskier does not dwell on.

“Sword to your knight,” he corrects, “Scythe to your reaper. You coat yourself in it. It is the armor you hide behind, when it should be a weapon you wield.”

Yennefer says nothing, glaring at him, her plan falling apart around her without her even realizing. Her mind is shifting, changing, adjusting. Reconsidering.

“My choices were taken from me,” she snarls eventually. “Stolen from me.”

“Some were,” Jaskier agrees, because it is partially true. The threads of Yennefer’s past and fate not all pulling towards herself. “This one wasn’t.”

She looks at him sharply, taking a step towards him as if to threaten. To hurt.

“It was your own choice that led you to this outcome, but that is what hurts the most, isn’t it?” he says and his voice twists, thickening and bubbling out as his hands turn black, too. ”It was always someone else’s fault for hurting you. Abandoning you. Leaving the scars that cannot be seen. You’re used to it. Used to letting someone else take the lead. You may not give them the sword, but you bare your neck.”

“Be quiet,” Yennefer growls, taking another step closer.

”But then, you finally have a choice. Your own choice. A choice with repercussions, but you take it because it is yours. You think you take control. You think you have rule over yourself. Yet all your actions are a cry for help. A cry for vengeance. A cry for pity.”

“Shut up.”

”You are a response, Yennefer of Vengerberg!” he roars, the windows shaking, the candles flickering, the stones growing moss. He pauses, staring at the furious, lavender eyes before him, and calms himself. He pulls back his veins, his claws, but leaves his eyes. “You could so easily be action. You do not want your womb. A child. You want to be loved, but refuse to love yourself.”

“Who says I don’t love myself?” Yennefer snarls, leaning towards Jaskier, who looks up at her from his seat. Completely calm.

“You wear a very pretty mask. My whole life is a mask, I know what they look like,” he replies, then begins to stand. Yennefer steps back, as if she expects him to attack, but he just stands there, holding his hand out in offer.

“I have lived as a mother for children I never gave birth to,” he says, his voice soft, cool as frozen dew, and Yennefer stutters in her spot. Her eyes widen.

“How?” she demands, stepping closer again, but not taking the offered hand.

“Many ways. Surrogacy in some places. Adoption in others. Love in them all,” he says and Yennefer’s lips thin, apparently not liking that answer. Jaskier narrows his eyes. “A child is not obligated to love you. To care about you. And they won’t if that is all you want out of them. But to love yourself and give love, you will always have it returned.”

“What happened to me ‘wielding fury as a weapon’?” Yennefer snaps.

“I do not see why you cannot have both?” Jaskier tilts his head.

They are silent, his hand still outstretched, and her aura thick. Thick with the unsaid. Thick with the reconsidered. Thick with the plans she thinks she hides so well from him. Thick with power and possibility.

She glares at him, glares with a purple wildfire, and slowly reaches out and takes his hand.

+++

Jaskier, after Cintra, makes sure to visit often.

The midday shadows are long and the night is thin, letting him bleed through the streets and alleys and people without them knowing.

They don’t see him come, don’t see him go, but they are resigned that he exists. That he is there. That he means no harm.

Calanthe attempted to throw him out the first few times she turned and he was standing beside her, but each time guards dragged him to the gate they found their hands empty as their queen’s enraged shriek echoed through the halls.

Eist thinks he’s funny. Jaskier likes Eist.

Pavetta always sees him like no one else does, sees the shadow of his shadow, the voice that curls under his skin, and she greets it like a friend. He always plays her the sweetest songs, assuring her the soul in her belly is strong and bright.

Then, when Cirilla enters the world, he sings for her too and makes her laugh with his tricks.

She has chaos in her core like her mother, not yet soured from repression, and she grows up fearless of boys or swords or dark eyes. She laughs when Jaskier flickers behind a guard, startling them when they turn. She begs him to “do the thing” and watches as a hand pushes under his skin, like pushing against a curtain, and strains the skin. He vomits black to scare off tutors when she grows tired of lessons.

“You spoil her more than me,” Pavetta smiles as she and Duny prepare for a trip on the sea.

Jaskier smells death, feels it in the back of his eyeballs, knows they will not return and the space in the shadows of Cintra will fill with sorrow and tears, red like blood. He can feel the void, closing around them, and it feels like he’s staring at a mirror.

It feels like him.

“Someone needs to,” he says instead, smiling, his blue eyes twinkling.

“She’s a princess,” Pavetta rolls her eyes.

Jaskier says nothing. He says nothing nothing nothing.

Only good-bye.

+++

“Good news, Geralt!” Jaskier announces as he walks out of the mayor’s house just as the Witcher comes towards it. “I have made a lovely new friend! You met Yennefer, yes? Gorgeous sorceress? Bewitched you to harass a few diplomats?”

“Got me thrown in a cell,” Geralt growls, looking dubious but also incredibly tasty. Jaskier has never seen him in the leathers he wears now.

“Charming woman, isn’t she?” He then notices Geralt’s own eyes flicking downward. At first, he assumes he is looking at the new shirt Yennefer gave him and he puffs up, preening at the attention, but then realizes the Witcher is likely concerned over something else.

He reaches to pull down the loose collar of the black top and show his bare chest. Something in Geralt jumps, but it is repressed so violently even Jaskier cannot see it.

“I am perfectly fine. As I assured you before,” he smiles and Geralt huffs, looking away. “Now, onto the subject of that djinn. We should sort out your last two—”

“One. I only have one wish left,” Geralt corrects, “Blew up a guards head.”

“Unoriginal, but very well,” Jaskier huffs and he can feel the swell of the djinn in indignation. He doesn’t hide his smirk. He is safe from any further attacks thanks to Geralt’s first wish. “Now, as for the third and final wish… I had an idea,” he smirks even wider, thinner, and glances back at the house where he can feel Yennefer in thought.

Her spell had been dispelled the moment Jaskier touched her skin, and she had begrudgingly accepted that. She had not changed her mind, but she had been given much to think about. He could feel the turmoil in her head, the fire raging white but compressing into a single point.

It worried him.

He did not do well with worry.

“It is your choice, of course, but hear me out…” he turns back to the Witcher, who watches him closely, standing closer than seems necessary. “I worry for what she will do. I worry she will do herself too serious a grievance before she can become something greater than her past. You must be careful with your wording, but…”

“You want me to make a wish for her,” Geralt finishes, looking thoughtful, and his own eyes flick to the mayor’s house.

“It is your choice, of course, and you really must be aware how you word it, but I think—”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier’s eyes thin suspiciously, eying Geralt and feeling out his mind. His soul.

He is curious. Not like when he is given a particularly unique contract. Something lighter and sweeter. Something that doesn’t fit what Jaskier knows of Geralt, but somehow feels familiar on his skin. It’s…

Oh…

Geralt is smitten.

He tries to hold back his smile, but it leaks through anyway. It doesn’t feel happy. It feels anguished.

Geralt steps back, crossing his arms and closing his eyes, deliberating over how he wants to say his final wish. Considers for a long time. And then his lips move and the pressure in the air nearly knocks them back.

A storm on the ground, twisting and roaring. Something tethers, like an anchor caught on a stone. Heavy and unruly. Breaking and holding.

It pulls tight, braided with fire and ice. Geralt’s shadow stretches towards the sun.

And then the djinn is gone.

Jaskier feels it pulse once before it is fully free, the current taking it up, up, up. The euphoria is palpable, vibrant as a bird’s feathers. Refreshing as the open air. Warm like home cooking. Freedom.

Jaskier is staring up at the clear sky, clouds curling like a storm, but not with the same promise, when Geralt sucks in a sharp breath.

Jaskier looks at him, then follows his gaze back to the mayor’s house. The windows have been shattered from the release, but he doesn’t think there is anything to be concerned over. Still, Geralt pushes past him, speaking lowly, “I’ll meet you back with Roach,” before hurrying towards the building.

The tether – anchor crushing a stone, holding a ship still as a wave comes crashing down – fades as Geralt leaves.

Jaskier blinks. Whatever the djinn did, it clearly had nothing to do with him… But what could Geralt’s final wish have been? And how could the djinn have manipulated it for their own, malicious enjoyment?

The feeling of finally-here-colliding-obsession-infatuation-pleasure-pain-agony knocks the breath out of Jaskier and he steps back, staring up at the house in shock. Euphoria, but a different kind. A physical kind. Mounting and mounting in a way that feels too sudden. Too rushed.

He knows the feeling. Partakes in the feeling. Loves the feeling.

But this makes something in him roil and curl, contorting back and away until it pulls at his spine. Pulls at his veins like strings on a puppet. Pulls on his heart, strangling it with arteries and claws.

Why? Why does this hurt? Why does he care?

He moves without moving, the world twisting and spinning beneath him before he collapses in a field of flowers on the other side of the world. On a continent forgotten and abandoned.

The crushing on his heart becomes too much and he falls to his knees, raising a black, clawed hand, and plunging it into his chest. Ribs shatter like glass, red blood gushes before it turns black. Skin and eyes turn black, black, and blacker still. Not veins, an all-encompassing shadow eats over his flesh. A living-dead-vacant echo.

He rips out his lungs, throwing them out of the way, and tears out his heart with a shriek. He shrieks and shrieks and shrieks, black vomit and tendrils and hands erupting from his throat and his chest and his spine and his limbs. A mass of nothing and everything.

A single hand is held out, fingers too long, seemingly unaffected by the way the rest of him writhes and cries out. His red heart, still beating, sits in his palm, waiting and hurting and never going away.

He wants the end, but he cannot want himself.

With a shuddering, worldly crack, he pulls his hand in, cradling his heart close to the crater where it once sat.

Anguish. Anguish. So much anguish.

It was his own fault.

Shouldn’t get attached.

That’s why he’s here.

Kill the middle. End the lessons. The journey is death. The end is nothing.

Take him back.

Take me back.

+++

When he comes to, he is whole. His chest is whole and pink, like a fresh wound or a human, he forgets.

There are no organs in his palms, only dirt and ash.

Tears roll down his face. They taste like the ocean.

He’s crouched in a field of death and decay, dead flowers hanging over too-large corpses. Hands, larger than buildings, frozen where they fell in the distance. Ribs curve like archways over his head, closing him in.

He stands and turns and he is gone, smiling when Roach is there and nickers in greeting, the world green and lively once more. The mayor’s house off in the distance, but he pays it no heed. Instead, he pets the Witcher’s mare and waits. Waits. Waits.

A̵l̶w̶a̵y̶s̷ ̷w̴a̸i̸t̵i̵n̵g̸.

+++

Here are the people that asked me to tag them for this part! However, not all of them Tumblr would let me mention, so please make sure you’re not set as a private blog or anything like that. @so-damn-mishalicious @patrycjami-chan @matcha0milk @zoeyszone @katgirl05 @tokilabitch

It’s also on ao3 now: here

Part 4 to come soon. These are really fun to write!

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #nonhuman jaskier #demon jaskier #fanfic #geraskier

122 notes · View notes

berjhawn · 4 years

Text

In My Head - Ch. 12 - Let’s Talk

Warnings: arguing; fluff, Angst ;

Pairings: Geralt X Reader x Bucky ; Bucky X Reader x Geralt ; Geralt x Reader ; Bucky X Reader

Summary: Girl dreams about boy, girl meets boy, chaos ensues.

A/N: This one is long but I needed to fit it all in this part so i hope you enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I smile as I hold Cirilla up over my head causing a giggle to escape her lips. She loved it when I did this. Playing that she could fly high in the sky. Pulling her back down into my arms I look around to see Pavetta smiling at me and I smile back. Over the past few years Pavetta and I had become quite close.

“She really loves you.” Pavetta says as she admires her daughter.

“And I love her.” I reply as I gently set Ciri down on her little feet so she could run through the grass.

“Have you given anymore thought to what we discussed earlier?” She asks and I cock an eyebrow at her.

“What did we discuss?” I ask confusion filling my face.

“Your heart, and where it lay.” Pavetta answers and I nod.

“My heart can’t be trusted.” I reply making sadness fill her eyes.

“(Name), you can’t just stay away from him. If what you told me about your dreams is real the two of you were destined for each other.”

“Destiny can kiss my ass.” I reply making her roll her eyes.

“If you truly believed that, then why are you here with Ciri? Did Destiny not intervene and bring you back for her?” Pavetta asks and I groan.

“I hate that you’re right.” I reply as I look over to see Ciri following a butterfly. “But I don’t even know what I would do if I ever saw him again. I mean he told me to go back like he didn’t want me.” I bite my lip as I fiddle with my fingers in my lap. Tears sting my eyes and I groan out in annoyance. “You’d think I wouldn’t have any tears left.”

“Your tears are proof you still love and want him.” Pavetta adds making me meet her gaze. “We don’t get to choose who our hearts want.”

“If destiny hadn’t intervened and you wouldn’t have been promised to Duny, do you think you still would have ended up with him?” I ask making her pause as she ponders the thought.

“I feel in my heart, that one way or another we would have found each other. I can’t imagine my life without him. I was made for him, as he was made for me.”

“God that’s so romantic.” I cry making her chuckle.

“It’s true though.” She concludes making me shake my head at her.

I glance across the courtyard to see Natasha and Calanthe in deep conversation and a chuckle escapes my lips.

“What?” Pavetta asks following my gaze.

“I honestly didn’t think Natasha would have stayed here this long, or that she’d enjoy herself.”

“She’s like my mother, a warrior; they bonded very quickly.”

“That they did.” I add leaning back in my seat as I look up into the bright blue sky.

“Have you heard from your brother?” She questions and I let out a heavy sigh.

“Last I heard from Thor he was headed north to Redania. Something about a rouge mage or something like that. I have no idea. He kind of just does what he wants when he wants.” I reply with a chuckle.

“I can tell he enjoys it.”

“He just doesn’t want to go home.” I reply making her cock an eyebrow at me. “If he goes home, he has to be the king and he doesn’t want too. Says it’s not who he is. I agree, he’s more of a free spirit.”

“Who is running your kingdom?” She asks and I smile.

“A Valkyrie. One of Asgard’s greatest warriors, if not the best one. Thor chose her himself.” I reply as I think fondly of my friend.

“Do you miss your home?” Pavetta asks and I sigh.

“Sometimes, but not as much as I thought I would.” I reply straightening my back. “I still need to go back every once a while to see my family and friends but other than that… no one really needs me there.”

A silence falls between us as I we both turn to see Ciri giggling as she makes her way over to where Natasha and Calanthe were. A thought occurs to me about what it would be like to hold my own kids in my arms. It was a strange thought considering I hadn’t ever really wanted kids. Perhaps being around Pavetta and Ciri; and seeing how amazing they were together had made the ideas fill my head. I am about to say something to her when I am pulled from my thoughts by a familiar voice calling out to me.

“Uh (Name), I fucked up.” I hear Jaskier’s voice and I turn to see him running towards me with a regretful look on his face. I furrow my brow as I stand up and walk over to him. “I didn’t mean to say anything, but…” He turns and looks back towards where he had come from.

“What’d you do?” I ask following his eyes to see nothing.

“I, uh, hang on let me catch my breath.” He says placing me between him and where he had just looked as he tries to catch his breath. “Whew! That was a very long run. I just had to get here before—oh hello Geralt.”

At the mention of his name I froze. I didn’t even need to turn around to know he was there. I couldn’t turn around. What was I going to say or do? I narrow my eyes at Jaskier in anger making him give me an apologetic look. Shaking my head, I start to walk away from them. I was not prepared for this.

“(Name),” I hear Geralt call and I shake my head.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Ah, (Name), if I may,” Jaskier says catching up to me.

“You have 30 seconds to tell me what he’s doing here before I permanently make you a mute, and it better be good.” I say as I stop to look at him.

“Ah, well, see there was this djinn. Geralt went fishing for it because he couldn’t sleep.”

“A Djinn? Like a Genie?”

“Yes, well, he was so cranky he insulted my singing and I was offended, so… it just kind of slipped out.”

“You had one job, to keep your mouth shut, and you broke your promise because he insulted your singing. Doesn’t he do that on a daily basis?”

“Not to my face.”

“Ugh!” I groan out as I reach up to run my hand over my face. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Look I don’t know what exactly transpired between the two of you, but… and I’m just throwing this out there, why not give him a chance?” Jaskier asks and I open my mouth to speak when he continues, “Please.”

“Ugh, fine.” I groan out as I finally look back at Geralt who was still standing where I had left him with disbelief in his eyes. He looked rough. I swallow down a gulp of air as I slowly walk back over to him. I look over to where Pavetta was sitting and she smiles reassuringly as she stands up and walks over to where Ciri, Natasha, and Calanthe were standing staring at us. Turning my eyes back to Geralt I feel my heart clench.

“You came back?” He asks and I nod.

“I did.” I reply dryly.

“Why?” He asks and I fold my arms over my chest.

“Why did I come back?” I ask and his brow furrows.

“Why did you tell Jaskier not to tell me?” He asks hurt in his voice.

“Because…” I pause as I glance over to see Natasha getting ready to murder someone and I let out a heavy sigh. “Can you follow me please?”

I motioned for him to follow me as I walked away from the courtyard toward my room. I knew he was following me because I could feel him behind me. His amber eyes scorching a hole in my back. Reaching my room, I open the door and motion for him to come inside. Closing the door behind us I turn to face him my jaw clenched in anger.

“Why were you looking for a genie?” I ask causing him to turn to face me.

“I wanted to sleep.” He answers honestly.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” I question and he pauses.

“Do you really not know?”

“If I knew I wouldn’t have asked.”

“If I slept,” He pauses anger filling his voice. “I’d see you… with him.”

I pause everything coming back to me. I had figured when I didn’t dream about him anymore that he didn’t dream about me either. But he’d see me with Bucky? How was that possible, Bucky and I hadn’t been together for the past six years.

“You still dream of me?” I ask and his brow furrows.

“Do you not dream of me anymore?” He inquires and I can tell there is a little sadness in his eyes.

“I still dream of you.” I answer honestly as I reach up to rub my arms. “Just not like I used too. I don’t see your everyday life, just… normal dreams.” Clearing my throat, I continue, “Anyway, so how long has it been since you slept?”

“It’s hard to say exactly.” He answers honestly.

“Maybe you should get some rest then.” I say as I motion over to my bed.

“I don’t want to sleep.” He argues and I cock an eyebrow at him.

“If you’re worried whether or not I’ll be here when you wake up,” I pause as I let out a heavy sigh.

“I want to know why you told Jaskier not to tell me you were back.” He interjects and I clench my fist.

“I told him not to tell you because I was angry and hurt, okay!” I yell at him taking him back. “When we first met, I was confused. My whole life, I was told you weren’t real and I wanted to believe it because I didn’t want to be crazy. So, I tried to move on with my life and I met Bucky. I fell in love with him because he was always there for me. He was a real person and the only person I knew who actually cared for me.

“So, when I met you and learned you were real, I felt my heart torn in two different directions. I cared about both of you and I didn’t want to hurt anybody. I knew how Bucky felt, I just wanted to know how you did; but you wouldn’t talk to me about it. You’d just give me one of your ‘hums’ and leave it at that, and that pissed me off, because we spend a night together talking and it was amazing.

“But then when it came time for me to go back, you shut me out, and I cannot tell you how much that hurt me. When I got back, I shut myself off to the rest of the world. I spent the time after I got back in seclusion. I didn’t want to see anyone. I wasn’t going to come back here.” I pause as I try not to let the tears that stung my eyes fall. “I was going to move on with my life; but… but then Ciri was born and well you could say Destiny had other plans for me.”

“Ciri?” Geralt asks and I nod.

“Our Child Surprise.” I answer making his eyes soften slight. “Her names Cirilla, but I call her Ciri. I felt her being born and knew I needed to be here.”

“You came back for her?” He asks and I nod.

“I came back to be here for her. I’m not going to take her from Pavetta or Duny, I just felt like I need to be here to protect her. She needs me.”

“What about him?” Geralt asks as he closes the distance between the two of us. “Is he here with you?”

“No,” I start taking a step back from him. “Bucky and I aren’t together anymore. I, uh, we decided it was best that way.”

“Oh?” Geralt speaks a look of hope filling his eyes.

“Yeah, we didn’t realize it at first but our relationship was toxic. We were always arguing, and there was not really any trust between us. Especially after I came back from here.”

“Why was that?”

“Because I finally knew what I wanted, and even though I loved him, I wanted someone else.” I meet Geralt’s eyes as a tear escapes falling down my cheek. “But who I wanted, didn’t want me. You made that clear when you told me to go back.”

“I told you to go back because I thought it was what was best for you.” Geralt retorts making me roll my eyes.

“How do you know what’s best for me?” I ask anger lacing my words.

“This place… is different from your world. It’s harder, more dangerous.”

“You do know what I do for a living right?” I ask making him narrow his eyes in anger. “I put my life in danger every second of every day.”

“The monsters in your world are different.” Geralt tries to justify, but I’m not having any of it.

“That doesn’t make them any less deadly.” I argue making him reach up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I can take care of myself. I always have and I always will.”

“You don’t always have too.” Geralt softly adds pulling my attention to his eyes.

“What are you implying Geralt?” I question narrowing my eyes at him.

“I’m not good with words.”

“No shit sherlock.” I interrupt.

“Dammit (Name) can you just be quiet for one second?!” Geralt yells out making me narrow my eyes at him.

“No,” I reply in challenge.

“Look I’m only going to say this once so don’t interrupt.” He starts and I cock an eyebrow at him. “Back then, when I told you to go back, I didn’t want too.”

“Oh?” I inquire resulting in him glaring at me. I hold my hands up in surrender as I motion for him to continue.

“I spent the time after I sent you back thinking that what I did was right. You didn’t belong here; it was too dangerous for you to be near me. There are many people who would like to see me dead and I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.” I go to say something but he quickly continues, “I know you can take care of yourself; I’ve seen you do it.”

“Thank you,”

“I swear if you interrupt me one more time,” He warns and I smirk.

“I’m actually enjoying your reaction.” I answer honestly making his face lighten up with a smirk.

“It wasn’t until after you left that I realized just how stupid I’d been.” He continues and my heart lifts in my chest. “I should have fought harder for you.”

“If you would have asked me to stay, truly asked me, I would have done it in a heartbeat.” I speak up reaching over to gently take his hand in mine. “I told you then and I’ll tell you again now, I love you Geralt; even after all the bullshit, I still love you more.”

In an instant Geralt closes the distance between us claiming my lips in a hungry kiss. My heart leaps in my chest as I reach up and wrapping my arms around his neck hold tightly to him. Tears sting my eyes as relief and happiness wash over me. There was still a seed of doubt in my head that he didn’t really care as much as I did, but it was easily drowned out as our kiss deepened. Geralt’s hands grip tightly to my hips as he pulls me in close.

“Awe, isn’t that a beautiful sight.” I hear Jaskier say and my brow furrows as I slowly pull away from Geralt to see Jaskier standing in my doorway with Ciri in his arms. He looks from me to Geralt and instantly panics, “Ah, I didn’t mean to interrupt but,”

“What are you doing to my (Name)?” Ciri asks as she narrows her eyes at Geralt.

Geralt turns and meeting Ciri’s emerald eyes pauses. I glances between the two of them for a moment before I walk over to Jaskier and holding my arms out take Ciri into them.

“Hello Darling, I thought I said eavesdropping was a bad idea.” I say to her but her eyes remained focused on Geralt.

Clearing my throat, I bring her over to him and say, “Ciri, this is Geralt; Geralt, this is Cirilla.”

“This is the Witcher you tell me about?” Ciri asks her eyes finally moving to mine.

“Yes,” I reply making her nod.

“This is your special person?” Ciri asks and my face flushes pink as I nod.

“Um, I’d like him to be.”

“I am.” Geralt adds pulling my attention toward him.

“Ciri, my dear, can you go with Jaskier please.”

“Why?” She asks her brow furrowing.

“Geralt and I haven’t seen each other in six years, we have a lot to talk about.”

“Fine,” She hops down from my arms and walking toward Jaskier turns back and staring Geralt dead in the eyes adds, “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Cirilla! How many times have I told you not to say that!” I scold but she ignores me as she silently threatens Geralt with her eyes.

I watch as she slowly backs out of the room closing the door behind her.

“Dear Lord that child will be the death of me.”

“She definitely has a way with words.” Geralt adds making me chuckle slightly.

“That she does.” I add as I walk back over to him. “Wonder who she get’s it from?” I add meeting his gaze.

“I wonder.” He adds a smirk filling his lips as a chuckle escapes them.

Geralt reaches up and gently touching my cheek moves a strand of hair from my face. The touch sending waves of heat throughout my body. Before I let my emotions get the better of me, I pull away.

“Now that things are kind of settled, why don’t you get some sleep.” I motion to the bed and take a deep breath.

“I will, if you join me.” He offers and I chuckle.

“Then you won’t be sleeping.”

“I’m fine with that.” He concludes want filling his eyes.

“Why don’t you take a bath, cause you stink, and I’ll think about it.”

“Very well.”

Will Continue -

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murfeelee · 4 years

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Alright, I’ve been talking about The Witcher TV show for months and months, and now I’ve FINALLY seen it.

I've skimmed through the books here and there, but really I’m a diehard fan of the video games, particularly The Witcher 3 (I’ve played TW1 and TW2 as well). Because of all the hype, attention and love the TW3 got over the years, with even Henry Cavill being a major fan of the video games, Netflix went and made this tv show, with Cavill as Geralt of Rivia, The Witcher.

MY THOUGHTS

It was GOOD! \(^0^)/ I really liked it!

Alright, don’t get excited, I think this show had some serious problems. But we’ll start with the good before getting to the bad and the ugly.

THE GOOD

THE ACTING

Everyone was top notch, and did a fantastic job. I freaking LOVE Grandma Calanthe, omg. I wanted more of her, and Mama Tissaia, and the different sorceresses (when Sodden started I was like hooo boy, I know how this goes; the finale is WORTH the price of admission, folks).

I even liked Eclipse-Princess (her name escapes me, my bad; I was calling her Arya 2.0 in my head). Don’t think I effing missed how they threw in a nod to the Eclipse Princess from Blood & Wine; that was awesome, featuring the Black Sun “curse” again.

I already knew I was gonna HAVE to tune in to see Yennefer’s story, and it was every bit as superb as I suspected it would be. Dare I say it was THE most interesting story arc of the three? Caught me tearing up a few times. I still don’t see book/game/Polish Yennefer with her, but she did a GREAT job, nonetheless--her emotions and delivery and everything was excellent.

She sounds so dang young though, which throws me off with the timeline, cuz when exactly does Yenn’s story take place in all of this? It’s hard to match her with the more...well....matronly/mature persona we’re more familiar with in the games. But I guess she develops that over time, after getting to raise Ciri. Though this does put in better perspective why she was so mean to Ciri at first, calling her ugly and everything. She wanted a child so badly, and Geralt just...gets one by surprise, and she was feeling bitter, I see it now.

THE ACTION

And I gotta give it to Cavill. Boy can MOVE. My favorite moments with Cavill were when he was sword fighting; whoever choreographed all that needs a frikkin award. I imagined the Butcher of Blaviken just tearing up mofos, and that’s exactly what we got. And he was WERKING them pants! XD

Except we never really saw my favorite sign, Igni. Oh well. And I hate that he doesn’t have cat eyes. And the Toxicity ISTG makes him look like a vampire and makes no effing sense, but whatevs.

And sometimes he was sounding WAY too Batman or demonic with this really deep and gravelly voice -- I appreciate that he was trying to give us that gruff and sandpaper dry video game Geralt, but when they’d make him yell or be mad I was like JFC NOT TODAY SATAN. But an attempt was made, and I appreciate it. ^_^ He was fine for the most part. More than fine, even. As I said, the acting & action was great, and they played to Cavill’s strengths.

THE SPECIAL EFFECTS

I also thought the CGI was fine--not the best, no, but I’ve seen way worse in shows with bigger budgets. The dragons...eh.... And that kikimore.... Well, I’m just remembering the Polish tv show, the Hexer--BIG improvement. Trust me. O_O The practical effects were excellent. Even though they messed around A LOT with the Striga plot from TW1, and what it looked like, I did like that they stayed pretty faithful to the fight.

THE STORIES & CHARACTERS

IMO, the best episode was E04, with Pavetta & Duny. It was just REALLY well done, and the one I was LEAST expecting. My favorite episode was E06, with the dragon, because of course. Reminded me of Hercules the Legendary Journeys, IDKY. The finale was really good, too; I love the sorceresses and all the magic. And E07 when all the plots and flashbacks come together was great.

And now for MY COMPLAINTS

THE BAD

#1) OMG WTF WAS UP WITH THE TIMELINE?

I feel BAD for anyone who’s watching this show fresh, who’s never played the games, read the books, seen the Polish Hexer tv show, played Gwent, or anything related to the Witcher world.

I was thrown off several times, as they shot from Ciri running for her life or Geralt fighting a Striga in the present time; to Yennefer learning magic in the past. Geralt & Dandelion go on adventures Shrek & Donkey style--I ASSUMED in the present, with the Sylvan, Djinn & Dragon, until an episode or two later they’re in Cintra together in the PAST, and Ciri’s not even born yet, and we’re seeing a drunk Ermion/Mousesack and young Crach an Craite (I squeed, my dad~!! His accent was on point!), and Ciri’s mom and grandma. (And WOW, the lady they got to play the mom looks just like the actress playing Ciri--are they related?)

And they do this over and over again over the episodes--present day with Ciri, eff knows when with Geralt or Yennefer. Especially since you know from the books/games that they’re both almost 100 years old. Yenn keeps throwing out “it’s been decades“ this and “years” that. But W H E N though!?!

I mean, I could follow along, sure, but they REALLY needed to make it clearer SOONER for people who have NO idea who TF these people or which kingdoms are which, that some things are happening YEARS apart from each other. Pay attention to how many times GoT shoved those maps of Westeros and Essos in our faces. Or how different shows use color filters for flashbacks or something. Properly situate the audience in time AND space--we’re not Cirilla, who can travel willy nilly between both. They bounced back and forward between past and present with the toss of a frikkin coin.

And speaking of coins...

#2) THE MUSIC WAS...Well.

youtube

Oh, Dandelion. XD

Anyone who knows me knows I fangirl HARD over the Witcher video game OSTs. And unfortunately, the music on the tv show was just...alright. :\ And for a franchise so closely connected to iconic music like the band Percival, it’s a crime against nature that the tv show never had a single track that made me go YES. Give it up for POLAND. The end credits song is okay, but I only started getting into it at like Episode 6, soooo... :\

And no, I didn’t like Toss A Coin to Your Witcher in this show. It didn’t sound like part of this medievalesque universe AT ALL, but something kinda pop/country, aimed at I don’t even know who. Sure, the dude playing Dandelion can sing. But so can Ed Sheeran, and when GoT got him to sing on the show, he sure AF didn’t bust out with the next Billboard Top 40 on us in the middle of nowhere.

#3) THE CHARACTER BONDING?

The acting was top notch...it was the plot/writing I didn’t like. Or rather, the relationships between the characters. I felt more for Yennefer & Istredd, and Geralt & Roach, and Ciri & the Elf boy (and her grandma), and even Pavetta & effing Duny/Emhyr (that royal piece of sh!te) than I did for any other characters on this whole show. And that’s a bit of a problem.

First off, I HATED how they made it seem that TEENAGED Ciri had no idea who TF Geralt was. TV Ciri’s gotta be what? 15? Geralt said something about it having been 12 years since Pavetta & Duny, but even that’s too old. Book!Ciri met Geralt IN the Brokilon or whatever forest with all the water drinking and the dryad queen and mess.

They were already obsessed with each other before the fall of Cintra even happened! Ciri was like 10 already when Geralt took Ciri to Kaer Morhen to start her Witcher training, but this girl on the show’s way older, and effing clueless. They don’t even meet til the final few SECONDS, wtf!! It’s just Destiny~! Destiny~! Child of Surprise, but we never even have a scene together~! Destiny~!

Speaking of children, we have Yennefer and Geralt, which was better, but again, WOAH with the pacing. I felt effing BAD for Istredd! :( I don’t really GET why Geralt & Yenn fell so hard for each other; I don’t really feel that connection. Geralt had just as much bonding time with that eclipse-princess! They only had the Djinn episode, really, and by the end of the Dragon episode it was already over!

I mean, yeah, in the books/game they have A LOT of ups and downs, but come on; we’ve already wasted so much time on Geralt & Triss (that homewrecking wench, I’m glad her airtime was minimal), and I just want more BAMF battle couple parents Geralt & Yenn raising Ciri already! >_<

Same with Geralt & Dandelion. Geralt’s kinda mean to him, which is fair; Geralt hates everyone. But I don’t feel where they’re friends at all, and they part at the end of the season on NOT great terms. I kinda feel Geralt doesn’t really like Dandelion at all. :( Even with the whole comedic relief Shrek schtick,

THE UGLY

#4) THE LENGTH

I dunno what’s up with all the 8 episode miniseries lately (GoT, Mandalorian, Witcher, etc), but it REALLY isn’t enough to really flesh out a story. Especially not one as convoluted as The Witcher, AKA the GoT of Poland.

Again, I REALLY feel for the casuals watching, who probably don’t know what the Conjunction of Spheres Istredd keeps referring to is, or what exactly a Witcher is, or why Ciri’s so dang special -- was Lara Dorren or the Elder Blood ever even MENTIONED???

We know Yenn’s got elf blood, but it’s waaaay more than that with Ciri -- though I don’t think they mentioned her elf blood, either, just that Calanthe’s grandmother or someone had their Banshee powers before Pavetta & Ciri.

BTW, wtf with Ermion/Mousesack? That’s gotta be a red herring or something. Cuz we know this dude’s old AF and thriving in Skellige, sooo....? TF. Why the Doppler? Why?

TBH this felt like Season 1A, if anything. I don’t feel the plot really progressed much at all, other than us getting Yennefer’s story. Ciri & Geralt finally meet (cliffhanger supreme right there), but jfc this felt like a prequel -- so much of the season was dedicated to backtracking us in a roundabout way up to the fall of Cintra, then skipping ahead to the Battle at Sodden Hill.

And why the heck did they wait so long to get to get to Vigelfortz!? That’s what I was sitting here WAITING for! You mean I gotta wait for Season TWO to see my Hanse in full force!? :( URGH. Reeeeeeeegiiiiiiiis~! :(

Maybe cut out some of the unnecessary nudity every frikkin where and tell the full frikkin story, hmm? (Yenn’s boobs look great, we got it the first 5 times. Meanwhile these cowards won’t even have a dude’s left testicle be shown on screen, but whatever.)

So yeah, those are my 4 biggest complaints.

Well, and that wig’s hard AF hair line, jfc.(I was DYING during the Pavetta & Duny scene, when Cavill was holding on to that wig for dear life. XD XD)

Otherwise, I really liked the show! B+!

#nonsims #non-sims #the witcher #the witcher 3

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