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montcumbry-gaytor · 5 months

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Nepenthe. chap 09

act two : razbliuto

THIS IS A OC INTEGRATION FOR THE WITCHER, IT IS NOT A X READER FIC.

— it did it again I am about to shoot Tumblr on the vanilla extract oh my fucking god.

tw for : Canon Typical Violence and Graphic language, Mentions of throwing up.

(n.) the sentimental feeling about someone you once loved but no longer do.

"-And it.. swallowed.. that Witcher.. whole!" The man proclaimed, his face full of terror as the men and women of the inn gasped in shock.

What a joke. I think as I lean my weight against the chair Jaskier sits on, and he hums in intrigue. "Oh, This is brilliant!" He says, scribbling quickly with his quill, and as i'm somewhat leaned over him I can see his handwriting is quite neat.

I've found in the somewhat short time I've spent with him that he's more than just a bard, he's proven to be impressive in ways. "Sorry, It's just that Geralt's usually so stingy with details." He murmurs to the blood soaked man.

Jaskier scribes the last few words down before he asks for more detail, and the blubbery man spurs on his words before they come out.

"He died."

They all gasp, and I can't help the small grin on my lips as I sip from my ale, Jaskier speaking what we were both thinking. "Ehh... he's fine." And the man immediately goes to protest, and I count down with my fingers to Jaskier as he speaks.

"Listen, I was there" Wham. soaked in blood, Geralt barges into the in, his clothes sticking to him and as Jaskier gives him a hearty laugh, I can't help but chuckle a bit myself.

As Geralt demands what he's owed, Jaskier begins to sing the ballad he wrote, despite it being a decent song, I kick the tip of my boot into his calve lightly, but he takes it and sings anyway.

It's like a fairy tale how everyone joins in song, and I cringe as I move to walk with Geralt, a drink waiting for him at the counter-thanks to me- but I say nothing of it as I lean against the counter, and the cheer dies down as Jaskier walks over.

I know by his body language he's about to discuss what he proposed to me, and while I denied at first, I eventually caved and now I can't say no.

Jaskier spurs on in an elongated speech, and eventually Geralt growls out. "Fuck off, Bard." and I let out a soft 'Tsk' as I pinch Geralt's ear for a moment, his hand coming up to bat mine away.

I'm glad to be on.. more resolved terms with him now, we're not lovers, despite things we do, I still care about him but.. not in the same way, Triss words often come back into my mind and set me on the right track.

My mind snaps back as Geralt walks off, and I grin as I watch Jaskier babble on for a moment before his eyes meet mine and he mutters a small. "Fuck." before he moves to catch up with Geralt.

"Food, Women, and Wine, Geralt!" He proclaims, and Geralt pauses ses for a moment, sighs, and it's clear he just wants to be clean of the selkimore guts and asleep. "What about Kael?" He asks.

"I'm backup, Unlike you I'm not interested in women so I'm trusted to keep my hands off his merchandise." I elaborate with a soft grin, standing beside Jaskier, and he holds a fist out.

He's a bit silly, yes, but I feel he brings out whatever side of me is less reserved, and I bump his fist with mine. "Fine." Geralt murmurs, and turns to go upstairs where a warm bath is waiting for him.

We all slip inside, I find a chair in the back and sit on it backwards, Geralt makes no effort to be shy of himself as he pulls his clothes off and submerges himself in the water.

Jaskier takes a small pale of water and as he rolls up his sleeves he approaches Geralt, tending to him as if he's some heathen child and pours the water over Geralt's head.

"Now, Now, Stop your boorish grunts of protest. It is one night of guarding your very best friend in the whole wide world." Jaskier hums, and as he moves to grab something from the rattan dresser our eyes meet almost for a mere second.

Of course, I can't help but deny the way he's acting almost motherly is cute, but the thought doesn't linger as Geralt grumbles his words out. "You're not my friend."

"Oh, Really? So you just let strangers rub chamomile on your lovely bottom?" Jaskier turns to ask Geralt, and as Geralt cocks his head to face the bard with an expression that says 'what the fuck? 'Jaskier speaks up. "Yeah, well, that's what I thought."

He then goes on to talk about kings and other royalty will be at this gathering, and sprinkles bath salts into the tub of water as he proclaims that the Lioness herself will say praise of his works.

They chatter back and forth, and I enjoy watching it play out, Geralt's pure expression of frustration is amusing to say the least. "Ugh, is this what happens when you get old? You get unbearably crochety and cantankerous?" Jaskier asks, and I meet his eyes with furrowed brows.

"Geralt's just as sour as a crabapple." I comment, and lean back into my chair, crossing a leg over the other. "I've always wanted to know, Do witchers ever retire?" Jaskier asks and Geralt is quick to make yet another negative reply.

"Yeah. When they get slow and get killed." He grumbles, and Jaskier questions Geralt if he'd ever want anything after whatever life this is ends. "I want nothing."

It makes me think for a moment, I'd always thought at some point I'd be able to settle down, but it's the same reality that you really don't stop until you're dead that reminds me that settling down is only easier to say and not to do.

"Well, Who knows, maybe someone out there will want you." Jaskier says as he rests his arms on the tub. "I need no one." It irks me when he says that, maybe more than it should, but it does. "And the last thing I want is someone needing me."

The more he talks the more I can feel my eye twitching with annoyance, I bite my tongue from making a remark but internally those words all flood out.

"And yet.. here we are." Jaskier murmurs, and Geralt lets out only a grunt before he begins to look around. "Where the fuck are my clothes Jaskier?" The bard quickly explains where they are, before he grins widely with a newfound excitement.

"Neither of you will need your clothes anyways, Because tonight.. you're not going as witchers.."

Those were the last words I wanted to hear, this wasn't part of the deal.

But there's no room to refuse as Jaskier quickly spurs us up in party acceptable clothing, Geralt looks completely out of his element, but.. I haven't dressed well in so long it's almost strange seeing myself in clothes made just for looks.

I gaze into the mirror and run my hand down the fabrics, while at first I refused the corset vest, it actually looks quite nice.

But of course, there's one last thing, a small black eye patch rests on the vanity and I fidget with it for a moment before it's secured on.

I walk out of the dressing room, and Jaskier coos and urges me to twirl. "Is the eye patch really necessary..?" I ask, It feels like it only calls more attention to the empty socket even if it's hiding it.

"You look lovely, perhaps you'll even meet a man who suits your tastes to keep you company tonight." Jaskier hums, and I let out a deep sigh, that's the least of my worries.

My job is to end men, not their squabbles,

It's getting closer to the evening time and we arrive to the event, I can feel Geralt's eyes on me despite it all, he seems awkward in the clothes he was put in.

"Right so stick close to me, look mean and pretend you're both mute." Jaskier says as we enter the Grand Hall, the scent of pompous assholes is strong and unpleasant in my nose.

"We can't have anyone finding out who you are." Jaskier says to Geralt, and I let out a huff at the irony. "If you didn't want that you shouldn't have made him famous." I say, and Jaskier huffs back in retort. "If I would have known I would have reconsidered."

Jaskier says, and I roll my eyes. "You lack hindsight, is there no brain under that mop of yours?" I ask, and brush my fingers through his hair, and our gazes meet as I bring my hand away, though the moment is cut short as a voice bellows.

"Geralt of Rivia, The mighty Witcher!" It calls direction straight to us, and I pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers, hissing softly. "Shit.." I sigh, and the man approaches us, a flagon of ale in hand.

"I haven't seen you since the plague." He says, he seems to be an old friend of Geralt's, because he smiles and greets him in return. "Good times, Mousesack."

They chat, and the more they talk the more eyes I feel poke and prod, I've never been one for attention, let alone being in the center of the room.

The man now known as Mousesack takes Geralt off our hands, and now I see why I'm being used as backup, and Jaskier and I sigh a bit of relief as the eyes peel off us.

"You did make him look like a sad silk trader, Though." I commented, and Jaskier let out a soft laugh, his eyes traveling down the outfit he chose for me. "Perhaps, But I think you look perfect."

"Overstatements from the bard, how shocking." I brush off his compliment off, leaving it at that as we walk through the bustles of people, Everything makes me a little more uncomfortable.

"You should get yourself a drink.. or two, you look tighter than double knotted laces." Jaskier says, and practically ushers me away, I feel more out of place now that I'm alone.

I've always hated royal gatherings, I've only ever been to these types of settings if it meant slitting a throat for coin, but without a goal but to make sure Jaskier doesn't get absolutely bullied I feel more on edge.

Just as I try to catch my bearings, a man catches my gaze, or he catches mine, and it almost seems like he'll try and approach, and I'm just about to back-pedal as far away from the possible conversation a firm hand on my back grasps me from my thoughts.

Geralt, he's guiding me back to Jaskier, who the second I see him is cornered by a royal half my size, it's a silly sight. "Thank you." I say quickly, and Geralt grunts in response, he knows more than anything that I don't favor this setting.

"Uh- Er.. Ah! My good friends!" Jaskier says in a comical nervousness, and I watch as Geralt uses the fact that he's doing Jaskier a favor to his advantage, lying boldly that Jaskier was kicked in the crotch by an ox, and the royal gives him a gold coin to 'drown his sorrow' before scurrying away.

But their chatter is soon to be cut off as horns blare through the air, and the queen herself cuts through the room, face adorned in blood, fresh from battle, and Jaskier rushes to the small stage with his lute.

His eagerness is visible, I can only hope he'll survive.

Geralt and I sit back against a wall, and he passes me a flagon as we only watch royals idle. "Shit, I already hate this." I comment and take a hearty swig from my flagon, my dual-colored hair falls over my left eye, shading it from public view.

Soon, rowdy chatter bursts as two men bicker back and forth, they fight about beasts when they clearly know nothing, but ignorance is bliss. "Enough!" Calls the queen, and my gaze flits to her as she steps down from the podium.

"We have a renowned guest here tonight." For fucks sake. I internally hiss as I skirt myself away, patting Geralt's shoulder as I creep deeper into the corner of the room, If anything I do not need a queen's eye on me after all the treason to my name.

As quickly as the queen speaks, all eyes are on Geralt, who stands as still as possible before he declares: "Neither." And one of the royals asks him if he's being accused of lying.

And for a moment it's quiet, and I can hear the lie in Geralt's voice, saving anything grand from leaving his mouth and supposing that the royals have found a subspecies, though.. obviously not the case.

Chatter happens quickly, Geralt makes snide comments, and he tells the truth of the happenings of Filavandrel, whom I've come to respect as the days pass by and the memory keeps in my mind.

"Come Witcher.. take a seat by my side while I change." Says the queen, and as she leaves, Geralt can't not comply, and I'm pushed back into now as Jaskier comes down from the smaller podium.

"Well? Going how you expected?" I hum with a soft grin, and he puts his hands on his hips. "I can't say I didn't expect it, just hoped for it not to happen." Jaskier says as he takes a sip from a flagon he'd snagged.

"Perhaps you should try dancing with a willing lady, might cheer you up." I suppose, and just as I say that, a young woman looking to be around Jaskier's age approaches him.

They chat for a bit before Jaskier is pulled away to the center floor and I'm left safeguarding his lute as I watch attentively, at first it was to make sure Jaskier wasn't lured into a trap but as the two begin to dance together the idea is only hypothetical.

He's a bit clumsy on his feet, but he knows how to dance, and it's an entertaining sight, but he's enjoying himself and that's all Geralt and I came here for.

As I watch, a solemn thought plagues my mind no matter if I try to think of anything else, and I find myself sipping at the rich beer in my flagon, yet it's like water in my belly.

Minutes pass by and the music dies down and the queen re-enters the room, and Jaskier and the woman finally slip away from each other with smiles and he practically comes skipping back.

"Enjoy yourself?" I ask, and he's basically gleaming with a newfound enjoyment, his old disappointment of the night wiped away. "Very."

We sit back and idle as man after man approaches the podium where the Queen herself, the princess and now even Geralt sits, and as the first one's title rings in my ears, it makes me a little sick.

"Lord Peregrine of Nilfgaard." A man introduces loudly, and the mere words make my stomach churn, and just before the Lord can speak the crowd blares bagpipes and drunken laughter as a mockery, but I cannot smile in the presence of such a man.

I turn myself to face away, the mere stench of the Nilfgaard makes me nauseous. "Hey- Are you.. alright? you look like you've just seen a ghost." Jaskier asks, now seemingly worried.

"I'm alright- Just.. not a particular fan of Nilfgaard." I reply, and hear as the Queen makes a mockery of the Lord herself, and he rushes off, but the scent lingers.

The night proceeds, and Jaskier once again slips off to make a performance, one that captures the party and they all seem to enjoy him play, it makes him happy, which again, is all that matters currently.

It's all calm and I feel more at ease that the scent of Nilfgaardians has since aired out, but hairs rise on my neck before someone bursts through the rooms doors clad in armor.

He makes his way to the center, and kneels as he introduces himself, and I can only think I'm either paranoid or having a moment of precognition as I step up to where Jaskier is, there's too much tension in the room.

The knight explains himself excusing his lack of exposing his face as an oath, and as a royal steps up declaring it false, he rips the helmet from his head and almost everyone jolts up in shock.

Face clad in quills, he looks just as frightened as the party folk, but this is no monster, it's a curse, and for a moment Geralt and the Queen whisper back and forth, before she bellows throughout the room.

"Slay this beast!" Knights shoot up to take him down, but he's an impressive fighter, and he finishes them quickly, before speaking once more. "Lioness of Cintra, I've come to claim what is rightfully mine!"

He proclaims, and I watch in a precise silence. "Pavetta." The Knight says, and turns to face the princess whose face is contorted in shock. "By the Law of Surprise.." He says, but in the silence swords draw one by one, he's taking down guards by the minute.

Geralt steps up, grabbing a fallen sword and slicing the large weapon that was once about to strike the knight in half, and I take that as a queue to fight, sliding in to grasp a sword that clatters to the ground.

"Kill them!" The queen shouts, and Knights flood in, it's slaughter after slaughter, where Geralt is too precise, I'm too fast, if they were fucked enough trying to kill one Witcher, they were truly balls deep in shit if they had to kill two.

More party goers rise with weapons, and in the midst of it all, the royal who once ripped the helmet from the Knight steps in to fight with us instead of against.

And suddenly amongst all the fighting two swords meet but do not collide. "Stop!" The Queen says, her sword drawn on Geralt, and the whole crowd halts on command.

"Duny!" The princess says as she rushes down from the podium, wrapping her arms around the Knight and he holds her in return. "I told you to stay away." Pavetta says as she cups the Knights quilled cheeks.

The Queen eyes them with uncertainty and they stare with the same, there's tension thick enough to be cut with the slice of your hand.

Once again, the knight kneels to the queen, lowering his weapon before he speaks. "Your Majesty.. The Witcher speaks the truth." He says as he stands once more. "I was cursed as a young boy.. my whole life a living misery until the day that I saved your husband, King Roegner, from a certain death."

The Queen listens in an almost infuriated and disgusted silence, I can sense she's far from done even if she is giving him time to speak. "I chose the Law of Surprise as payment.. Whatever windfall he came home to find would be mine."

He speaks, and the Queen seethes before she speaks up herself. "-Oh, the stupid bastard, Better you had let him die!" She hisses, and I can see Jaskier walk closer to Geralt and I in my peripheral.

"You knew he'd come and you pushed me to kill him." Geralt states, and Pavetta's cheek occupies a tear. "And you.." Calanthe hisses at her own daughter. "Carousing with the beast that swindled your stupid father!"

"Tis no swindle.. Asking for payment with the Law of Surprise is as old as mankind itself." Eist says, stepping forward. "Don't lecture me, Eist." Calanthe growls. "It's an honest gamble.. As likely to be rewarded with a.. bumper crop as a newborn pup."

Eist speaks, his forehead ridden with sweat as he speaks. "Or, A child of surprise.. He could not know." He continues, and Pavetta and the Knight hold each other as they watch the Queen carefully. "Destiny has determined the surprise to be Pavetta."

Eist states, and the quilled knight speaks up again. "When I heard that King Roegner had returned to find a child on the way.. I abandoned all thought of claiming the Law of Surprise." The Knight admits.

He speaks with complete and utter honesty, But the queen only persists to boil with anger. "I knew.. I knew no woman would ever accept me like this." He says, and a tear rolls from his cheek, Pavetta seems almost shocked by the words.

"So I waited.. I waited until the twelfth bell when the curse breaks." The room is dead silent as he speaks, no one dares to move. "I never intended to meet her... Just to watch from afar." He says and gazes into Pavetta's eyes.

"Until destiny intervened.. and our hearts collided." They almost talk like it's a fairy tale, and if I wasn't experiencing this firsthand I'd say that's all it was.

"Who are we to challenge destiny..? Life was saved, Debt must be paid, Or the whole order of the world falls apart."

Eist says, he's desperate to make the queen understand, and the man who'd previously greeted Geralt speaks up. "Honor destiny's wish, Or unleash its wrath upon us."

She's cornered, no one is at her side willingly anymore, no one that matters.

"There is no us! I bow to no law made by men who have never bore a child!" She proclaims. "Is there not a man amongst you who does not cower before Destiny?"

She asks, and her eyes lay on Geralt, before she almost squints at me as I stand by his side, as if picking up by relativity.

"You, Witchers.. Who has known monsters of every fang and claw.. Are you afraid too?" She asks in a patronizing tone. "No." Geralt responds.

"I've seen mothers lash themselves raw over the death of a child, believing they crossed Destiny, Ignoring the stench of the fifty other children in the plague cart outside."

Geralt speaks, his tone gruff but truthful, the mere thought of the time makes me shudder a bit. "Destiny.. Helps people believe there's an order to this horseshit.. There isn't." The Queen's eyes are overwhelmed with unshed tears. "But a promise made should be honored."

He adds, a soft smile on his lips as he speaks. "As true for a commoner.. as it is for a Queen." He says, and the Queen lets out a sigh as a tear rolls down her cheek.

"I love Duny, Mother.. I will marry him." She says, her tone firm and hard, she's made her choice. "I will finally be free." She softly rejoices, and the room is deafeningly silent as the Queen passes off her sword to Eist before holding her hand out.

The knight takes the hand gently, and as the Queen leans over to whisper in his ear. "Here is your destiny." She says with a smile, before drawing the dagger at her hip and lunging it straight for the Knight's throat.

The princess screams out in horror and before the queen can touch the Knight a blast of energy sends us all back, Windows break and I skid to a halt as wind spins the room, The Princess and the Knight standing in the center.

Elder whispers leave her lips, and they lift from the ground, floating effortlessly as chaos surrounds them, Geralt tries to send a surge of energy through his fingers, but he's only sent back.

In a moment of chaos, I see him down a small bottle, through the whipping furniture that whirls around the room Mousesack tries to take the storm as Geralt pushes through it, and with all the strength he can conjure, separates the two and lets them fall as the storm settles into nothingness.

Geralt stands after everything settles and our eyes meet with relief, and nod to each other as whispers fill the room and everyone stands from their collapsed positions and the queen approaches them again.

The tension is gone, she's melted down with the shock of it all, but the couple watches wearily as she steps closer, before the Queen embraces her Daughter in a solemn hug in the center of the room.

"I thought your grandmother's gift had skipped you.. It seems I was wrong.. about so many things." The queen admits as they pull away from the embrace.

"Destiny has spoken! And I have listened.. The Law of Surprise will be honored." The queen proclaims, and I gaze around the room as everyone has recovered, and my eyes land on Jaskier who holds the woman he danced with in his arms.

"Pavetta will marry Lord Urcheon!" Murmurs fill the room, And Eist steps forward to stand with the queen. "React poorly, and you won't just face the Lioness, you will be facing the sea hounds of Skellige. Because Queen Calanthe.."

Eist speaks, and the room quiets down once more. "Has agreed to my proposal of marriage." They all stand at each other's side, before Calanthe once again begins to speak, her voice pieces the room sharper than any sword.

"There will be two vows here tonight! I assume that's agreeable." She says, and every head in the room nods. "Delightful.." Quickly, a ceremony takes place, people circle the room with candles in hand, and the queen binds their hands with a cloth.

"Pavetta. Duny... With my blessing.. I thee bind." The room is silent as their lips meet, and as they pull away, all is normal, before Duny lets out a soft bark, grunting as his body jolts and he falls to the ground.

And as he rises, he's.. Human, Normal, and Pavetta and Duny crawl to each other as they kiss again, the curse lifted. "The twelfth bell has not yet rung.." "What's happened?"

The two are in shock, and Mousesack speaks up. "I think your blessing in this marriage.. has fulfilled a destiny.. The curse has been lifted." Jaskier makes a soft noise of surprise.

"Whew! I think this has the makings of my greatest ballad yet." He says, his arm around the young woman. "If you're alive in the morning... Don't grope for trout in any peculiar rivers until dawn." Geralt says, and turns to leave, and just as I'm about to follow.

"No, Wait- Wait!" Duny says, chasing after Geralt. "You saved my life.. I must repay you." He says, and I purse my lips as I watch. "You've proven yourself to be the kind of man who would do the same."

Geralt says, and once again moves to leave. "I want nothing." "—No, Please, Geralt of Rivia, Do not feel like you're doing me a service." Duny begs, and once again Geralt pauses and turns to face him.

"I cannot start a new life in the shadow of a life debt." Geralt sighs for a moment before he speaks up, he's trying to leave quickly, understandably. "Fine, I claim the tradition as you have, The Law of Surprise.. Give me that which you already have but do not know."

The Queen gasps, her eyes wide. "No! What have you done, Witcher?" She asks, and Geralt speaks up. "Fear not your Majesty, If I am seen in your kingdom again it will be to kill a real monster, Not to lay claim to a crop or a new pup.. Destiny can go fuc—"

The Princess spits up bile, and the queen instantly makes the realization, Geralt is fucked.

"Fuck." He hisses and exits the room, leaving me to tend to Jaskier.

"You're staying?" I ask, and he holds the dark haired woman still, and smiles a bit. "I suppose a bit more fun never hurt anyone." Jaskier says, and I let out a deep sigh before holding my hand out.

"Enjoy your night, Jaskier." Jaskier goes to question hurriedly and I Quickly cut him off. "You know by now Geralt doesn't stick around." I say, and Jaskier sighs as he nods. "I always find you both, Don't I?"

I nod softly, before I slip off out of the doors, passing by Mousesack who's re-entering, and we say nothing as I rush to catch up to Geralt.

It takes moments to navigate in perfect silence, and we find Emir and Roach tucked into a stable. "I'm so ready to be rid of this god forbidden vest." I comment, and Geralt looks at me for a moment.

"You look better than me." He says, and I smile a bit as I give his clothes a look over. "Silk trader." I say, and hop onto Emir, my mind lingers a bit on Jaskier as we leave.

If I have to find him somewhere I will, because he owes me now.

— WEE WOO WEE WOO LONG CHAPTER LONG CHAPTER.

#the witcher #jaskier #the witcher oc #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix

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montcumbry-gaytor · 5 months

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thinking heavily about the scene where they have Shira imprisoned and Diego is trying so hard to seem like a badass and sid ruins it

just realized sid and diego from ice age resemble jaskier and geralt

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montcumbry-gaytor · 5 months

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Nepenthe. chap 08

act two : razbliuto

THIS IS AN OC INTEGRATION FOR THE WITCHER, IT IS NOT AN X READER FIC.

— oh my dear FUCK I'm going to LOSE my fucking MARBLES. WHAT THE FUCK.

tw for : Canon typical gore and violence, Mentions of incest, Description of burn wounds, Canon Typical graphic language.

(n.) the sentimental feeling you have about someone you once loved but no longer do.

We take a few minutes, Being cautious down the corridors, and I have my hair pulled into a secure ponytail for all intensive purposes.

But it's that thick, fresh scent of dried flowers that eggs us on.

When we arrive in Adda's old room, Ostrit is tied taut to the bedframe, already blinking himself awake, I have more than enough distaste for him, so as he groans in pain and flexes his jaw I feel momentarily uplifted.

"Witchers.." He speaks, and I cock my head over my shoulder for a moment to look at him, before turning fully around. "This is madness!" Ostrit proclaims, his bound limbs jolting for emphasis.

"What are we doing here? What's happening?" He Barked, his lips dripping with blood. Call me a sadist, but it's a better look on him as opposed to that uptight posture he held when we first met.

"How can we lift the curse?" Geralt pries, and Ostrit is in shambles. "No..! This is not right.." He blubbered. "Foltest must pay for what he did!" Ostrit shouts.

"Tsk." I hiss, and move to lean against the bedframe beside Ostrit, gazing between Geralt and him with amusement and inquiry. "Explain that to her." Geralt says, looking at Ostrit from over his shoulder, his gaze on a shattered window.

"Carry me out. I order you." Ostrit demands, The fucking gall is impressive, but ignorant nonetheless, he's nothing more than a rat caught in an oil trap. "Tell us how to lift the curse."

Geralt repeats, and Ostrit pants desperately, looking up at Geralt, then to me, then to nothing at all, as if searching for a black hole that will swallow him up and take him away.

"Sh-She was hiding from the brotherhood.. She sold me a lamb-" Ostrit stammers, and I raise my brows in interest. "Go on." I hum, tapping the tip of my foot against the floor.

"She told me to wait until a full moon, to wait and then to kill it." He states, his explanation coming out in loose and knotted threads. "And then I recited some silly chant.. and then I bathed in the lamb's blood until sunrise.. until the rooster cried three times. and that that is all."

People never stop being Vile, Do they?

Geralt kneels as he interrogates him, asking good questions while I listen carefully, but more importantly, he mentioned a 'she' which.. only makes me eager to know who 'she' is.

"It was elven.. um.." Ostrit stammers, rambling in elder as he tries to recollect the chant, and Geralt and I's gazes meet in a mixture of surprise and distaste, and Geralt bolts up from his position.

"What- What is it? I've done what you've asked.. What more can I do?" Ostrit cries. "Nothing, Unless you can keep a striga out of her crypt until until a fucking rooster crows three times."

Geralt snarls, and Ostrit makes the conclusion in words.

"You're going to have to fight her until dawn.." He murmurs, and Geralt rushes to toss me a small bottle of murky liquid, before grasping one for himself.

I've always fucking hated the taste of these things.

I pop the cork and down it as quickly as possible, It's a vile and bitter taste, Vesemir always said that I'd get used to it, but.. he was wrong, I've always preferred poisons over potions.

Minutes tick by, and a shriek hits my ears, bloodcurdling, but I brush off that sense of dread as it shrieks again, the two of us making our way out of the room.

"No.. No- Come back here. Please, Please..! You'd leave a man bound to die with such indignity?!" Ostrit calls, and Geralt's lips downturn in disgust.

"You're not a man." Geralt growls, and I follow him as we make our way out of Adda's bedroom and down the corridors.

The shrieks are loud in my ears, I hate it already. "Geralt." I say, I hope there's no chance of us being split up, but there's always one. "Stay safe you bastard."

Geralt's gaze meets mine, and despite his eyes being overrun by a pitch black, the twitch in his eyes is a telltale sign of his gaze flicking over my face.

His hand slips down to cup my cheek, pressing his lips to mine for a moment before pulling away altogether with a nod.

God-Fucking-Damnit.

I say nothing, what does one say to that? Now is not the time to worry about such a thing, but.. Damn.

I can hear her screeches, and Geralt pulls a long silver chain from the sack he wore into the abandoned castle, looping it loosely around his arms as we approach a stairwell.

There's that sickly smell of death, strong, fresh, it's her, i can hear the chirping clicks as she smells us too.

We round the corner, and she's there, her disfigured and cursed frame piercing onto us, and Geralt is quick to wind up the chains.

She's quick to pick up, and screeches as she winds herself up to lunge at Geralt, before she's bound by the chains and lets out a scream as it sears into her flesh, before she strains against them and shatters them completely.

"Fuck."

"Shit"

We hiss in unison, and she lunges straight for Geralt, pinning him onto the stone, and I'm quick to plant my boot into her side to knock her off.

Sorry, Your highness.

Geralt pushes himself to his feet, and so does the Striga, growling as she leaps at me, she's smart, because she's lashing at my left side, my blind spot.

She's a big beast, but as she pushes me to the floor I thud my feet into her stomach and kick her off once more, It's harder fighting something you have to keep alive.

Geralt quickly sends out a pulse through his fingertips, sending her down the hall in a thud and grasping my forearm to pull me up.

But that's all the time we have, as she's quick to attack again, and Geralt slips around her and pulls a candle holder from the wall, and as she whips around now sandwiched between us, Geralt lands a blow to her head with the metal candle-holder.

But she takes it, And continues to lash as Geralt blocks her strikes to his best abilities until she rips the makeshift weapon from his hands, and picks him up almost effortlessly, throwing him almost in a similar fashion as we did her.

She quickly whips around and begins to lash at me, once again she's taking advantage, she's smart, I have to give her that.

It's a sharp thud to my rib that sends me rolling back, the cold tile does nothing to break my fall, and I lay back for a moment as my mind catches up.

But the second shes got me down, she's back to Geralt, she can smell Foltest on him, and Geralt has no other option but to take us down a level as he sends a pulse of energy into the stone, crumbling the ground underneath us.

And I feel a searing sting in my leg, and when I finally raise, there's a small pole dug straight into my lower thigh, blood soaking into my trousers.

"Fuck me." I seethe, and I can see Geralt shoot up in my blurry peripheral, the murky potion only heightens my senses, and makes the pain only more prominent.

"Kael." Geralt says as his eyes land on me, doing his best to push through the rubble, he's assured himself the Striga is unconscious.. for now.

It hurts, badly, but I've had worse, and I'm quick to brush his hands away. "Just make sure the damned thing stays down." I hiss, and he takes a moment before he moves to the exit of the floor we're in, sealing it.

I work quickly, pulling the thin chord that holds my hair out, there's better use for it now, and I take to it's longest ends and tie it around my thigh, growling as the pain makes my eyesight flicker.

It seems like it's only a second, but when It unblurs the Striga has moved.

Fuck this.

"Geralt." He turns his head, to me, and then to the Striga's place, and as he looks around, it lunges from the shadows on top of him, I can see it only faintly as I try to push myself up.

He's worn out, so has the potion, it's becoming too agile for him, and in a shaky blast I shoot from my fingertips, it flies off of him and into a stone wall.

Exhaustion finally seethes into my bones, and I fully rest into the cold concrete, it's dark, I can't tell if I closed my eyes or not, and I can't even feel the pain in my leg, and a warmth rolls over me.

Geralt's warmth, a ward, I'm safe for now.

It's faint sobs that bring me back, and my eyes flutter open and I can see the sunlight peeking through the cracks of the stone, pain still searing into my leg, but I fight it as I push myself up.

The blood flow is slow as the metal is separated from me thanks to the half hazard binding, and I limp towards the noise, it's a young girl covered in dirt and grime as blood floods from her neck.

She's frightened, of course, but I follow her gaze and my eyes land on Geralt.

Oh, Fuck, Geralt.

He's out cold, and I instantly kneel to try and shake him awake, but to no avail, fear sets in. "Geralt- Geralt, Get the fuck up." I rasp out, there's a deep wound in his neck, and I press my hand over it as I try to use pressure to block the blood flow.

It all happens too fast, Triss steps into the room through the stairwell, then Foltest, then a couple of his men, and Triss brings us through a portal, rushing to get Geralt into a bed in the center of the room.

She ushers to get me to sit down and assures me she can take it from here, but I rest my weight on my good leg and peel off his armor and shirt, he needs to be treated quickly, I could give less fucks about my leg.

She mixes strong herbs and fluids into a bowl, grinding them into a paste and rushes to smoothe it into his wound, and takes to wrapping bandages over it all, working her magic literally and figuratively.

Finally, He's in a safer condition, and this time she demands for me to sit, and I grasp bandages and work on my own leg as I comply, medicine doesn't concern me, just getting the bleeding to slow down.

It gets later into the day, and finally everything slows, and my mind drifts on to a deep sleep, perhaps by Triss' will.

My dreams haunt me even in a safe haven like Triss' hut, the warmth seeps into my bones and twists into an uncomfortable heat.

It's the day Nilfgaard invaded Gorthur Gvaed, and fire rages inside and out, we're all retreating so we can work together, but as I dash through corridors a mound of rubble and burning wood topples down on me, searing deeper than my clothes.

It rips a gutteral scream from my throat, it's too heavy for me to climb out from, and as my hands reach for anything to pull at, to get myself away from the singeing pain, and before I know it, a hand grasps onto my arm and swiftly pulls me out.

"Get to my horse and run." I know that voice too well, Ivar had always treated me well, even in this hellhole, but he says nothing more, just ushering me to the hidden exit and going off never to be seen again.

I lunge up quickly, and my hand reaches out as I sit up, before I notice where I'm at and let out a soft sigh. "How is he..?" I ask, and Triss turns to face me with a solemn smile. "He'll heal quickly, Like you do."

That's all I need to know, He's healing, that's all that matters, and I move to sit up, there's still a slight pain in my leg, but I'll be fine in due time. "Your things are in your rooms."

Triss comments, and I nod softly, I understand Geralt will want to get back to roach as soon as possible, and move to navigate the halls, the room we were in not far from the rooms we stayed in the night prior.

In the silence, the Nightmare repeats in my mind, a reminder of where I came from, the trials of my past, and I dig my serpentine medallion from underneath my shirt, pressing my lips to it. "I live another day, Ivar."

I say into the air, and I take my time gathering our things before making my way back, Triss' boots tapping against the concrete as we cross paths, and I stop her for a moment.

"Thank you." I say, and she smiles softly with the shake of her head. "No need, it was a given." Triss speaks, her hands clasped in front of her. "Someone has to say it."

And she nods fondly, and as I take a step forward she puts a hand on my shoulder. "I do hope to see you again." Triss says fondly.

Strange, I never would've expected to enjoy her company, but now.. I'm almost sad that we'll be leaving soon. "I as well."

And with that, we part ways, her fingertips leaving me, and just like when we met, her voice invades my mind, laying out a path of how to leave the structure she'd kept us in.

I can't help the small smile on my lips as I enter the room Geralt was in, and I see him already standing, strapping his armor to his body, and our gazes meet.

"How's your leg?" He asks, and I look down as I judge for myself. "I'm walking, Aren't I?" I say in return, and he lets out a quiet grunt as I pass him his swords.

We're quick to leave the hut with Triss' help in mind —Literally— and the road is long enough to ask one simple question.

"Did you expect this to go better?"

TUMBLR PISSED ME OFF T W I C E, WHAT THE FUCK!!! I NEED A BREAK!!!!

#the witcher #jaskier #the witcher oc #geralt of rivia #geralt the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher geralt #oc #oc fic

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montcumbry-gaytor · 5 months

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my reaction when Tumblr doesn't have an auto-save and so i have to re-write half my work and then it posts it even though I clicked "save" and so I have to copy and paste all my work again just to save it back to my drafts (I'm going clinically insane)

#writing #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine my rage brah..

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montcumbry-gaytor · 5 months

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Nepenthe. chapter 07

act two : razbliuto

THIS IS AN OC INTEGRATION FOR THE WITCHER, IT IS NOT A X READER FIC.

— I apologize for the laziness of my writing flow but I *so* wanted to write act two, we're finally getting Kael's heartstrings in order </3 please enjoy

tw for : mentions of rape & incestual topics, canon typical graphic language & violence.

(n.) the sentimental feeling you have about someone you once loved, but no longer do.

"This is no game, Captain, Tonight is a full moon, Geralt and Kael have already proved themselves to be invaluable."

Triss says, her hands clasped in front of herself as she speaks firmly, I admire how strong she is about her opinions, I hope she knows that despite my silence.

"We believe we can cure the creature." She adds, she looks hopeful.

"You say she's a girl, Then you will refer to her as Her Royal Highness-"

"Segelin, I believe urgency warrants flexibility in court decorum."

As the men speak, my mind goes elsewhere, I try to drone out the gluttonous chewing of the king, the food in his mouth is far past mush even as he persists to grind his teeth, it's disgusting.

"—What about her lover?" Geralt speaks up, and the chewing stops, the king is unsettled, It's easy to notice, any smart person would pick up on it.

Geralt speaks up once more, each word he speaks paints another stroke of a gruesome image, which the captain tenses at and places a hand on his sword, in silence I match the posture, and I peer into his eyes as he drops his hand to his side once more.

"Enough.. Leave."

Says the king, and I feel my shoulders sink, and I walk close behind Geralt, and watch as he forces the captain out and locks the doors, and despite how strained things are between us, I can't help but smirk.

Geralt speaks between the king, interrogating him, and I listen closely as I slip out my dagger, I see the king's eyes on it, anxious about my intentions, but I merely slice a vein of grapes that rest in the fruit bowl, and palm then as I place a few into my mouth.

I perk up when the king accuses Geralt of being devoid of emotions, and I see Geralt's expression falter, before meeting the king's eyes again as his men burst through the door.

I look at Triss as she runs in and skirts to a halt, our eyes meet and I give her a soft nod.

"Leave Temeria, Never return."

The king says, and as Geralt stands to leave, I follow suit, I glare daggers into the guards as I squish the fruit between my teeth, there's something pleasing about seeing them squirm.

Deep down, I'm just distracting myself of the night before, I know Geralt knows, because he doesn't speak about it either.

The cool air brings a chill to my skin, I feel the lack of feeling in the scars on my face as it does, where the loss of nerves begin, and I pull the deep green, fur lined hood over my head as we stand in white brush.

"You were told to leave Temeria."

Says Triss, she's wrapped in a fuzzy shawl, and she stands next to me and behind Geralt.

They chat back and forth, and as Geralt asks a daring question, Triss changes the topic, whether i like it or not it's mentally noted.

Geralt, in silence, holds up a rock, and throws it in the direction of the castle gates, and I can see the armoured guards flee in fear.

"That's one way to go about it."

I chuckle, and it's easy to enter the castle, my eyes lay on the bones of many that are strewn throughout the hallway.

Triss speaks, she asks questions, and Geralt doesn't answer despite knowing they're directed primarily at him.

"Not answering questions is the pillar of your brooding charm."

Geralt stares for a moment, and I roll my eyes as he keeps the silence, batting the back of my hand against his shoulder.

Our eyes meet, and he's hesitant about it, and I nod my head at Triss, urging him to speak up, it's a silent argument before Geralt turns and walks away as he speaks.

"Pretty sure Foltest is the father."

Triss remains quiet after that, and we continue down the hallway, the air is dense and stuffy, I was never a fan of castles in the first place, an abandoned one is only a tiny bit different, for better or worse.

We enter a room that's up the stairs, items are scattered and littered around, coated in cobwebs and frost, Triss murmurs that it's the late Adda's bedroom.

There's a search around the room, and the smell of death is strong, and I'm startled out of my thoughts as a melancholy tune plays, and as Triss fiddles with the music box, I turn my attention to her.

"Over here." She mutters, and unfolds a slip of paper, as I get closer I pick up that there was a hidden drawer, they're letters.

As she reads them aloud, it's almost putrid how they're written, and I turn my back as I listen, everything is a little more unsettling as it progresses.

Triss gathers the letters, folding them neatly and tucking them under her coat, and supposes to bring the letters to Ostrit.

We walk back for Geralt's sake, and I'm quiet unless it's to answer needed questions, I know Triss can sense the tension between us, I don't doubt that she knows what went on, or at least, what didn't.

When we arrive, I'm struck with an oddly familiar scent, like dried flowers, and the sharp and bitter smell of garlic or some other green.

"A queen mother cursing her children for their affair." Says Ostrit, Having thoroughly read the letters he sits them down on his desk as his mind processes the information. "This could destroy the throne."

He's right, Of course, but a false throne is no sturdier than a broken one.

"Sancia wanted Adda to get rid of the child." Geralt says, his back resting against the concrete walls of Ostrit's office. "It seems she refused, Repeatedly." Triss adds, and I'm only half-paying attention to the conversation at hand.

Ostrit lets out a soft sigh, lifting his head from how it once hung low. "And now she's taken that curse to her grave." He comments with pity and grief heavy in his voice.

For a moment Triss questions Ostrit, But he quickly rules out that Adda would never use foul magic, and my gaze slips to Geralt as he speaks up again. "What was your relationship to Adda?"

Ostrit takes a moment to turn around, though fidgeting when he speaks, I'm quiet as I try to decipher if he's struck with grief or.. anxiety.

He confesses he was seen as a confidant, a protector, a shoulder to cry on if need be, his fingers running along the wood of his table.

There's chatter, before Ostrit proposes something. "What if the relationship was not.. Consensual?" Geralt let out a low hum as he thinks, it's a noise I know too well by now.

"You think he raped Adda, then cursed the child to cover it up?" He asks, it's a gruesome question, but not surprising. "Well, Kings have done more for less." Ostrit replies.

"True." Geralt sighs, and for a moment he's back in silence before he approaches Ostrit, peering him down like a hungry wolf. "There's only one wrinkle though."

"Your scent was on her sheets." Geralt growls, and it gives me a conclusion, it was anxiety, that sharp smell I was met with before was merely a scent covered in the sickly smell on Adda's bedding.

"Geralt-" Triss chirps, but is ignored as Geralt pressures Ostrit. "Old ones.. and New ones." Ostrit's gaze flickers over Geralt's shoulders, trying to escape his fearsome gaze, but his eyes meet with mine and I can see him swallow thickly.

"What would I be doing in a dead girl's bed?" He stammers, and leans back uncomfortably as Geralt inches closer. "I smelt what you were doing." He rasps out.

One word describes what I'm thinking of, Vile.

Ostrit looks at Geralt with the fear and cowardice of a child caught with his hand stuck in a cookie jar, before finally he proclaims: "Foltest had no right!" Geralt gets what he wants, and steps away, our eyes meeting for a moment before they rip away.

"He seduced Adda, Abused his position- He was always.. nagging her for attention!" Ostrit speaks. "But he didn't love her!" He adds, and for a moment he's quiet.

"I did."

I may throw up, because that is even more disgusting than the previous assumptions.

"You cursed the woman you loved?" Triss steps in, her face ridden with distaste. "I cursed Foltest, not her."

Triss and Ostrit go back and forth, Ostrit getting more aggressive with his side of things, which only makes me want to see gruesome things become of him.

But I digress.

"Tell us how to lift the curse." Geralt demands. "No." Ostrit says, peering Geralt in the eye. "Foltest will watch as Temeria turns against him... just as he turned Adda against me."

Once again, Geralt hums before approaching, and in a swift blow, he clocks Ostrit in his jaw and knocks him out cold, I can't help but let out a low whistle.

"Thank fuck."

It's been a few hours since then, Geralt and I have set off to cure the striga, to set things right, for the most part, and as we approach the castle silver plated guards stand between us and the gates.

Geralt let out a low huff, and sits his things aside as he draws one of his swords, I take it as a sign to draw out my two short swords from their place on my back.

"Oh! So quick to violence." Says a gruff voice I hate to know, Foltest stepping out from the castle with that dumb little crown on his round and balding head. "Strange considering what Miss Merigold said about you two."

And for a moment Foltest steps closer, before he asks Geralt if it'll work, and he answers honestly, before he asks a new question. "Will my daughter be.. normal?"

And to that, Geralt responds honestly again. "She'll need special care. She's lived a life as an animal, All she's ever known is rage and hunger." He says, and Foltest looks pensive, but I can see it underneath the layers of flesh and bones.

There's that basic desire for his child —albeit one of incest— make it out alive.

I can't pity a man like that, However, He's still more vile than any other beast I've slain.

Geralt lets out a low sigh, and sheaths his sword and swaps it for a small broach embedded with jewels, I can't help but wonder where it came from.

He's deep in thought, I know that look, the way he looks distant, as if pausing the time on the world around him.

Before he turns to Foltest, and holds out the Broach, words die out in my throat and I can only watch with curiosity as I ease my swords back into their sheaths.

"What is this?" Foltest asks, slipping off his glove as he takes the Broach into his hand. "For the princess.. If I can lift the curse; a gift." Geralt says in return. "You're giving me this because you do not expect to see morning."

Says Foltest, And I can feel a frown tug at my lips at the thought, though typically I would reassure him otherwise, now is not the time. "This isn't my first time trying to save a princess who others see as a monster."

Geralt says, it puts the pot of questions on a raging fire and letting them boil over, if there was anything I hated about Geralt, it would be that he never answered questions, not directly anyway.

"What happened to that princess?" Asks Foltest, his anxiety deep in his voice. "I killed her." Geralt responds.

What?

As much as the questions demand an answer, if Geralt and I live, he would be answering all my questions until his mouth went numb.

"I did try to resist, at first, with Adda, we both did." Foltest says after a moment of silence. "For all it brightens, love casts long shadows." Foltest adds.

It's those words that make my brows knit together, what a coincidental set of words, but they can't just be coincidence.

Can they?

Even if those words ring true, why the fuck did Foltest have to be the man I hear it from? Gods, the misfortune.

"I envy you." Says Foltest, Which I find hard to believe. "To live.. and never have to fall in love." It feels as though we were strung together by those words, because that sting in my heart.. I know Geralt feels it too.

Whatever Witcher started that stereotype.. that's who I truly envy.

Geralt says nothing, and moves to grab his things as Foltest passes, and he pauses to look at me, his eyes looking over the gruesome features of my face, I can tell they are, the subtle flicker of eyes never stay out of a certain range.

"You envy poorly." I whisper, and his eyes look into what remains of mine, his jaw tense as he turns to continue walking, his guards following closely behind him.

Geralt and I walk in silence for a moment into the castle, but the urge to speak weighs heavy on my mind. "If we don't get butchered, You better fucking tell me about the princess." I say, before continuing forth.

"Hmm.." Geralt hums, and I land a soft elbow into Geralt's side. "I wasn't asking."

act TWO IN MOTION BABY LETS FUCKING GO!!!!!!! AGHHH!!!!

#the witcher #the witcher oc #geralt of rivia #the Witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher geralt #geralt witcher

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montcumbry-gaytor · 5 months

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chillin on a Saturday night

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montcumbry-gaytor · 5 months

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alr. how r ppl gonna ignore that this man wanted to sexually assault esmeralda... what.

Some peace and quiet by the fireplace before singing a whole song about being hrny.

I just love seeing his clavicle tease man I can't- I wanna bite

.......

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montcumbry-gaytor · 5 months

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Nepenthe. Index.

act one : tacenda - playlist

────────────────────────╮

chapter 01.

chapter 02.

chapter 03.

chapter 04.

chapter 05.

chapter 06.

────────────────────────╯

#the witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher oc #the witcher

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montcumbry-gaytor · 5 months

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Nepenthe. chapter 06

act one : tacenda

THIS IS AN OC INTEGRATION FOR THE WITCHER, IT IS NOT A X READER FIC.

— Wowie so I got really mentally drained and paused on my writing for a bit, but I'm back !! kind of, I'm trying to be strict with myself with also giving flexibility to write when I want to, so bear with me.

tw for : on theme gore and violence, undertones of rape, on theme mature language.

(n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence.

Geralt looks at Triss with confusion and interest at her words, and she gestures to follow as she walks down stone halls, where we're met with boxes filled with sand over bodies of the dead, preserving them.

She looks remorseful, mourning the unfortunate and unavoidable losses, Geralt takes a moment to look around, before he continues forward, when I look at his destination I feel dread pit in my stomach.

"Shit.."

I whisper in a mix of disbelief and gall, Geralt plucks the Medallion from his chest, and brushes the sand off of it with his thumb.

"You didn't want the people to know that it bested a Witcher- and you let them believe that he fled with their coin."

He says, and for a second he looks furious, I look I've rarely been given, thankfully I suppose.

He gives a small glance to the passed, and tucks the medallion into his belt, beginning to move the sand away from its abdomen, digging around the cavern in its chest.

"You two clearly weren't acquainted."

Triss says, watching Geralt from the sidelines, I give her a second of my attention, before it peels back off to Geralt as a gutteral squish resounds in my ears.

"His hearts missing, along with his liver. Only one creature I know is that picky an eater."

He says in a moment of resolve, and mutters words that makes my lips dry.

"A striga."

Triss' eyebrows raise in disbelief, and turns to him curiously.

"Strigas are old wives' tales."

"-They're very rare, the only way to make one is through a curse."

He explains, and i nod, my arms are crossed over my chest as my eyes pan between the two, I stay relatively quiet as they talk.

"Someone wanted Adda dead."

Triss says in a disturbed conclusion, and Geralt hums in agreement, and turns his head just slightly to me, his eyes pierce through mine as he talks.

"But the curse didn't stop with Adda, It turned her daughter into a monster."

He says, and once again turns away, sucking his lower lip in to drag his tongue over it, becoming dry mouthed himself.

"Her daughter?"

"—Strigas are female."

He adds, and sighs through his nose as the reality of the situation kicks in, i clench my jaw as my imagination creates vague and unpleasant pictures, though not even the harsh close of my eyes can escape them, Geralts voice just aiding the distraction from them.

"This strigas a princess."

Geralt says and Triss shudders, but not shocked, and her dress floats behind her gracefully as she exits the room, I look to Geralt and he shrugs, Gesturing for me to go ahead, and I listen.

"I can hear your thoughts, you may be quiet but you're very loud in the head."

Triss says, her back is to me but I can hear the weary smile in the voice.

"I'm sorry for.. then, I should have never let my own desires interfere with what you and Geralt had."

She says, and I can see her hands plant on the wood desk.

"It's hard, I don't forgive Geralt either, but pain hasn't stopped me as of yet."

I reply, and turn to lean on the desk lightly, careful not to wreck her setup.

"I hope you can someday, He's a good man, he cares for you."

Her words feel like a sour citrus fruit, and my hand rests over my mouth, I let out a drained sigh from my nose, I'm exhausted, this conversation riddles me with uncertainty.

"I will allow you and Geralt to stay the night, and tomorrow we talk with the king."

She says, and turns sideways to face me, and places her hand gently on my shoulder.

"I understand how this may affect you, But for your sake, and Geralts.."

She says, and her hand raises to cup my cheek, it's endearing, and kind.

"Find yourself, it'll be your answer."

She says, and pulls her hand away and begins to walk down the hall, her heeled boots clacking against the stone and resounding around the walls.

"Oh, and I do hope you'll find your room easily."

She says, before continuing down the hall, and as of right on queue, Geralt emerges, and his eyes land on me, not with fierceness, but it's gentle and warm, it sends aches throughout my heart.

"Triss is letting us stay the night, Walk with me?"

I ask, pushing myself up from the desk and Geralt nods, and when we walk down a hall, I feel my mind guiding me, Must be something of Triss' doing, though I don't mind it.

Occasionally my eyes meet Geralts, he's staring, and he doesn't try to hide it, My gaze flickers away when I feel a odd familiarity with the hall we stop in.

When I turn to Geralt, his drags his tongue over his lips, and his hand snakes around the back of my neck, pulling me in.

The kiss isnt rough, but it's not gentle, and I find myself losing breath as I push off of Geralt, my eyes flit over his features and I swallow the harsh lump in my throat.

"We shouldn't do this anymore, Geralt."

I say, my hands drop to my sides and my ears burn in a fit of nervousness, I'm wary, it's an unusual feeling in this setting.

"..Sorry."

I whisper, and enter my room, it's unusually warm in comparison to the icy kingdom, though it is welcomed, and I pull off my pauldrons, and lay my swords on a small wooden desk, a part of me wonders where a room like this would come into play for a woman like Triss, but i digress.

My thoughts are rampant, questioning my own judgement and when I restlessly flop into the mattress I find myself staring into the wall instead of sleep, thinking of some way to soothe my mind, a oddly comforting tune plays in my mind, often played by lute.

— RAGAHHAGA AWOOOGEEEHHHH I WROTE TBIS AGYER NOT WRITING IN SO LONG... THE VOICESSS!!!!

#the witcher #the Witcher Netflix #the witcher oc #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher geralt #geralt witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier witcher #jaskier #triss merigold #witcher triss #triss

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