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#and I also thing that Geralt bonded with Vesemir after a while and he's his dad - but I feel like he definitely bonded with Eskel first
spielzeugkaiser · 2 years
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[MASTERPOST]
They finally call Eskel! Geralt may have done the talking this time, but l they did discussed this beforehand and Vesemir had urged them to do this. And I do think, after they had this talk, that Jaskier knows it's important for Geralt to tell somebody.
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bardcore-jaskier · 1 year
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♡ My thoughts on Veskier + headcanons ♡
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- One of the rarest rare pairs in the Witcher fandom for sure! And guess what? I LOVE IT!!!
- They chose the perfect actor to play Vesemir in season 2! Kim Bodnia is a charismatic Danish actor with a charming accent, his performance was AMAZING!
- As of season 2, I personally am a bit cross with most characters in the series for the way they treated Jaskier. Geralt used Jaskier for his loyalty and his apology was shit, so Geraskier prompts/ideas don't come to me as quickly as they used to.
- Lauren went and killed off Eskel, so to cook up some Jaskel content it would have to be an AU where he doesn't die and would require a LOT of creativity not only to make it possible for him to be alive, but also mix and match his personality from video clips of his game counterpart on YouTube, since Eskel didn't get enough screen time on Netflix to show the entirety of his character.
- Lambert was an absolute dick to Jaskier, so Lambskier is rocky too, Lambskier's only saving grace is that Lambert and Jaskier didn't have a lot of scenes together, leaving a lot of room for thinking up ways in which those two could bond.
- WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY CURRENT FAVORITE JASKIER SHIPS: Yennskier (I already made a post about) and of course Veskier!
- Veskier, being a ship of a younger pretty man and an older witcher warrior, has mostly gotten attention from the extremely kinky side of the fandom. Daddy kink, BDSM, dom/sub, breeding kink and other kinks galore. Even more often, this ship is mixed with others in a M/M/M/M/M setting, you know, I know you know, we all have seen the witchersexual!Jaskier tag on AO3. And while I do enjoy a little well written smut from time to time, most of the Veskier fanfics out there do not quite suit my taste.
- Vesemir and our beloved, adorable, brilliant walking sunshine trouble maker of a bard, did not interact in season 2 at all, I doubt that they will ever, with both being side characters. HOWEVER, that makes this pairing FREE REAL ESTATE! Who is to say what is likely and what is not? Who is to say they won't work? Who is to say that they couldn't have gotten together at some point off screen?
- It makes me a little sad that people don't realize just how much potential there is with Veskier! Much like Yennskier, the theoretical romantic relationship between these two, at least going off of Netflix canon alone, would be surprisingly healthy and wholesome.
- Every time I imagine them together, I headcanon Jaskier as not entirely human. Either part-fae or of elder blood.
- Veskier is a perfect ship for emotional healing, for fluff, for the kinky side, for the crack, for happiness!
- FLUFF × CRACK × SMUT × HURT/COMFORT
Let me set the scene
- After Voleth Mier, Jaskier realizes that he somehow ended up in a situation where he lost his precious lute, became a wanted man in Oxenfurt (a city he considered his home), got tortured for information about his ex-bff, then said ex-bff came to bail him out of jail because he needed him, not for the sake of making amends, essentially using Jaskier to find Yennefer and then sending him off with Ciri as a glorified nanny. And here he is, at the top of another mountain, in Kaer Morhen, where Geralt is too busy with Ciri to talk while the other witchers are rude to him. He is penniless, injured, has nothing but the bloodied clothes on his back and is suffering from nightmares about Rience.
- Vesemir is a tired old man who has witnessed too much bloodshed in his lifetime. His body may be enhanced and therefore he doesn't feel the physical effects of aging (if at all) as much as he does the mental. All witchers were human at some point, he can actually feel the psychological toll of living much longer than humans are designed to. Still, he has to be strong as the master of the keep, to set an example and to be a dependable source of wisdom and guidance for his pups. He will never admit it out loud, but the things he has to deal with after Voleth Mier overwhelm him. There's Geralt's whole elder blood child surprise thing, constant repairs of a crumbling fortress, honoring and mourning the fallen witchers, processing the fact that new mutated mosters are appearing and they don't have the mutagens to create more of their kind to protect the continent and survive. There is nothing he can do about it except deal with the anxiety of knowing these stone cold facts.
- In this whole mess, two broken souls might just be what the other needs. Where Vesemir could do with a break, with a little joy, Jaskier is more than enough to help with that. And where Jaskier could do with being taken care of after everything he's been through, after everything he lost, Vesemir is a perfect candidate for that job. Their relationship would be yin and yang, balance and harmony personified.
- Honestly, please tell me that you see it too! They have a lot in common, Jaskier is a professor, mastered the seven liberal arts, grammar, logic, rhetoric, arithmetic, geometry, music, astronomy and according to canon, he passed every exam with flying colors!
- Vesemir is wise, he has lived for centuries, he has witnessed history, he was trained as an alchemist, has extensive knowledge about many things. He is a bottomless pit of knowledge.
- They could talk for hours together and never run out of topics to discuss.
- And the sex? OH BROTHER! Jaskier fucked his way across the continent countless times, while Vesemir is so ancient there is no way that he hadn't bedded a considerable amount of people. Yeah, the sex would be mind blowing I should think.
- Jaskier is a hopeless romantic and Vesemir is a traditional gentleman (when he is wooing the damsels, according to game!canon Lambert.) They would probably be very fluffy and affectionate with eachother. Verbose compliments, music, cuddling, kissing.
- LMAO, imagine everyone else's reaction!!!
- Geralt would be mortified seeing his friend making out with his father figure on the kitchen table 🤣🤣🤣
- The other witchers would probably feel uneasy, shocked at first too, until they get used to it. HAHA ONCE THEY DO LAMBERT IS GONNA FUCKING MILK IT
"Morning papa Vesemir, papa Jaskier"
- KAER MORONS!!!
- Also, the theoretical adventures a witty traveling part fae bard and a silverfox witcher could have, make me beyond giddy!
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dark-muse-iris · 1 year
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hello and happy new year! 🥂 Since you have played wicher have you seen the series??
Happy New Year, anon!
Yes, I've seen both seasons out so far. Since I played all the games, I approached with some healthy skepticism because a lot of times live-action stuff goes to shit.
I really enjoyed Henry Cavill's portrayal of Geralt. I had seen some of his earlier period-specific roles like when he was in The Tudors many years ago so I didn't think he would have a problem with the role or the setting. He's also a super huge nerd and when he talked about the series and the BOOKS (which so often get glossed over), I felt we were in good hands so long as he remained with the series.
So you can imagine my disappointment now that he's no longer going to be in the series after season 3. I think it's a huge loss for fans. And while I'm still going to give future releases a chance as a big Witcher fan, it's going to be like the 007 movie series for me where I consider each Bond to be a completely different interpretation of the main character.
Honestly, that universe is so rich with characters and lore, they could easily do major story arcs for other characters, especially Ciri or Vesemir. Geralt didn't lone-wolf everything. In a lot of stories and quests, he relied on a network of talented badasses and their contributions to get things done.
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welcometocrapvale · 2 years
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The winter is cold, but my heart is warm
Day 3 of soft tummy week @thepassifloradiscord! Prompt: Winter at Kaer Morhen.
Yes, I’m still behind one day. I will have to post two fics today again, as I’m determined to write something for each day.
Summary: Jaskier goes to Kaer Morhen and gets to see a softer side of Geralt and the other witchers.
Link to ao3.
This was Jaskier’s first winter at Kaer Morhen. He had been there before – when Ciri was being pursued – but they hadn’t stayed there for a long time. This time he was spending the whole winter with the witchers. Ciri and Yennefer were also there. They were not sure Ciri was safe yet, and she would be continuing her training. Geralt had asked Jaskier to be a part of the princess’ education too, teaching her about The Continent's history and court etiquette.
He was surprised by how relaxed the days at Kaer Morhen were. He had imagined a more strict schedule, but they would wake up at their own time, have breakfast, and find whoever was around to train in pairs during the morning. Geralt was keeping Ciri on more consistent times. They were always the first ones to step out into the training grounds. After lunch, the girl would train with Yennefer, and in the evening he would sit with her in the library to study.
It was nice to have a purpose.
He was also enjoying getting to know the other witchers. He had imagined they were all as serious and dry-humored as Geralt, but he had spent a few nights drinking and bouncing jokes off with Lambert and Cohen.
He had already seen Geralt’s personality turn softer around Ciri, but now, surrounded by his family, it was even more noticeable. He would see him genuinely smiling more frequently, especially when training. He was strict, but he would also give Ciri recognition when she did things right.
He would spend time in the kitchen, learning how to cook from the other witchers. His upbringing meant he had never needed to learn, and while he could prepare some meals, learning how to make food taste better was nice. Vesemir was the best cook, and while he wasn’t very chatty with Jaskier, he wouldn’t kick him out of the kitchen either, sometimes asking him to peel or cut vegetables and keep an eye on the pots while he tended to other things.
Jaskier tried not to get in the way of the witchers, but he also liked to spend his time observing them. He wondered if they would get angry if he wrote a song about how they spent their winters. It was just so normal that he thought it may help to change the opinion of the humans that still thought witchers were monsters.
They would tend to their horses, do shores around the keep, cook, and have dinner together, talking about their days and the adventures they had while they were traveling. They would hunt or fish for food and then prepare the animals using every last bit.
They even spent time sewing and creating new armors.
They had a natural hot spring at the keep. Jaskier would go there at the end of the day to warm himself up and relax. He rarely found other people there. One time he walked on Yennefer taking a bath and quickly scrambled away. One night he was sitting on the warm water while thinking about his latest song when Geralt and his brothers walked in, animatedly talking.
They stopped in their tracks when they noticed him, but he made a signal letting them know it was alright and they dropped their clothes on the floor and got into the water.
Even after a few months, it was weird to see Geralt interacting with people that knew him for longer than Jaskier had. There was a bond that he knew he couldn’t have with him, having a very different life experience.
He also noticed Geralt had put on some weight. He didn’t know if it was the same for the other witchers, as he had not seen them naked before. However, he had a strong inclination to say they had, as they counted on a reliable source of food at the keep, and while they were training, they didn’t have to move from one place to another.
Jaskier had also noticed some weight gain in himself. Everything that had been going on had him being careless about his own health, and he had gotten very thin, so he was happy about it, even if the lack of exercise had him looking a bit soft.
He was glad the witchers were able to rest at Kaer Morhen every winter. They looked happy. They had a place where they were accepted and had some security and stability. They could recharge before going out into a world that was hostile towards them.
The witchers were playing like kids in the water. Pushing each other, trying to keep each other underwater, and trying to splash water on each other’s faces. The witcher senses made it hard to catch each other by surprise, but it looked like it made it more fun for them, offering a challenge. Jaskier was glad they weren’t trying to include him because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to keep up with them.
He had sung victory too soon, as some water did reach Jaskier’s face after a while. He saw Geralt smiling maliciously at him. He joined them and ended up teaming up with Geralt to distract the others and manage to splash them and hold them underwater for a few seconds before they would break free and put him underwater. It looked like the witchers were afraid to hold him under, though, as they would quickly release him. He had good lung capacity, so it wouldn’t be a problem, but he was still appreciative that they were worried and considerate of his human capabilities.
When he started to travel with Geralt he never thought they would be sharing such domestic moments. He had dreamed, yes, but he never thought it would really happen. He followed the witcher for the adventures. To tell heroic stories about the White Wolf and his feats. And now he was spending the winter with other witchers and watching them do mundane things.
He had never imagined he would be cooking alongside Geralt’s mentor, or sharing a dinner table with his brothers, but he was glad to be there and witness a softer side of the feared monster slayers.
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Hey hey! I absolutely LOVE your writing and I was hoping I could request a prompt. I was wondering if you could write us a little bit about Vesemir taking care of Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel when they get back to Kaer Morhen for winter by making them omelets and any other kind of egg dish that tickles your fancy! Thank you <3
Lol I know this is a little late for the egg discourse, but I have feelings and a lot of bullshit to spew 😂.
-no warnings this is just dumb-
Ves gets home early every year bc he loves to prep for the boys and make sure their beds are stuffed with fresh straw and he has time to beat the cobwebs out of their living spaces and blankets.
In my head Ves has always been the resident spider killer.
He collects a few chickens and two roosters front he nearest town and breeds a whole flock of chickens
There's always eggs in every meal bc protein but also bc there's just so many fucking chickens
He refused to kill his children/grandchildren so the Kaer Morons are the ones to slaughter the chickens when they need one for meals. But he's tries to make sure they hunt more while they can to make the flock last through winter definitely not bc he's gone soft and cares about these chickens
This means HELLA protein and fat loaded meals early in the season bc they gotta use all the eggs which means, you guessed it, ~fluffy witchers~
When each witcher pup shows up they get sent straight to a bath, then when they come to the kitchen there's a massive omelette with all sorts of funky spices and goat cheese and even a lil bit of bacon.
When the boys feel homesick or they're having a particularly shitty day they make themselves an omelette (when they can) bc it's their coming home meal.
But Ves always makes them better
Geralt has to remind him that Jaskier is indeed human and can't have some of the wack ass spices the Witchers eat when he brings him the first winter.
Ves just rolls his eyes, but still nearly kills Jask bc he forgot.
"what did you use almonds for? It smells lovely, I'm just curious."
"Jaskier do not eat that!"
Ves does not need reminding after the look Geralt gives him.
Eskel and Lambert think this is hilarious
Ves buys Jaskier his own little herb seeds and they plant them in a pot in the kitchen
They call this the "human zone"
Jaskier is also very attached to the chickens. This becomes a BIG bonding point for him and Ves
They collect eggs every morning and take care of the birds and talk mad shit about Geralt.
You'd think they'd run out of things to say eventually, but Geralt keeps doing stupid shit, funny or actually annoying, and Jaskier LOVES that Geralt's father figure agrees with him. Even if it's only in grunts.
Every year, Ves releases the last chicken out into the wild. He cant bear the thought of his herd being completely eaten, even if he knows a monster or bear will get it quickly. It's the sentiment, you know?
This being said, I think Ves hates eggs bc they remind him of his boys and his chickens and he misses them over the summer.
Welcome to my brain, this is what the begining of a lot of my fics look like 😂 just absolute rambling nonsense. I'm truly sorry.
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officerjennie · 3 years
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Hello can I please request hugging for a very long time as a platonic bonding prompt with any pair of witcher characters you fancy (characters from the witcher that is)
Hey so I’m feeling rather self-indulgent so I turned this into a trans!Eskel piece, with him coming out to his family and receiving nothing but love and support in return. Extended platonic hug bonding coming from Lambert.
CW: Trans!Eskel coming out to his family, brief descriptions of gender dysphoria over certain pronouns and other nouns (woman, female wolf, etc.), fears of not being accepted (but he ends up accepted anyway), Lambden mentioned (with potential relationship troubles). WC 3k+
--
Eskel had never been so nervous to see his youngest brother.
All things considered, everything had gone well so far. It had taken over a year to tell both Geralt and Vesemir - he hadn’t had the courage to tell the lot of them at the same time, the last winter coming and going without a whisper of who he really was, until he stayed behind and lingered in the keep even up until Lambert had taken his arse elsewhere.
In a lot of ways, Eskel had assumed Vesemir’s reaction would be the worst, simply because the wolf was old and Eskel had no way of knowing what the world had been like when he had been a pup. But his expression had been soft, his eyes alight with humor, and the only thing he’d said on the matter was “No female wolf after all, huh.”
Eskel had rolled his eyes, shoulders sagging with relief, leaving it at that. The lack of disappointment or flair had done well for him, and that had been one down.
Telling Geralt had...well, he hadn’t had time to really plan out when to tell him. One day he’d been on the path on his own, riding by a field of rather tempting goats and kids that just begged for their little heads to be scritched - and the next he found himself saddled up next to his brother, having ran into him near the coast and decided to hunt a rather nasty little group of cockatrices together.
It had slipped out by accident, a correction at the wrong noun used to describe him. Eskel had flushed and looked away quickly, knowing the question would come and not sure if he was ready to answer it. But he did, and though the silence was deafening the arms that soon wrapped around him showed him nothing but support and comfort.
Those two had been easy, even if his nerves had been fried. As he should have come to expect by now his family had shown him nothing but support, letting it be well known that it didn’t matter what name he went by or who he was - because he was theirs, their family, and now their brother.
Lambert, though...
The day had slipped past him, his hands shaking every time he thought of seeking him out. It had been an early homecoming for the both of them, and this winter Lambert had come back alone, leaving his ‘kitty cat’ somewhere out in a fishing village for some reason he vagued out instead of explaining. A spat, no doubt; it happened every few years for them, but there was no question in his mind that they’d be fine. Two hot tempers in the same room sometimes just exploded despite their best efforts, and a bit of space and time between them would sweeten their reunion.
But it meant that Eskel was left in the keep with Vesemir, who knew, and Lambert, who didn’t. And he saw the questioning look Vesemir had sent him when Lambert obviously didn’t know, making the usual jokes that made Eskel’s stomach clench, calling him the name that made him question everything that he was and at times almost sending him mentally downwards.
It wasn’t his fault. Lambert didn’t know. But it made Eskel both want to avoid him and also go punch something, and neither of those would be good for him in the long run.
So, here he was. For the nth time already this winter, though the snow had yet to even reach their ankles outside. Standing outside of Lambert’s room, listening as the telltale sound of a sharpening stone ran across the blade of a sword on the other side, as Lambert hummed to himself like he loved to pretend he never did - and while Eskel tried desperately to get his hands to stop shaking and his heart to quit beating so quick.
He had to tell him. Needed him to know. Lambert was in a lot of ways the most loyal of the lot of them. Sure his temper got him in trouble, and yes he loved to be a little shit and make sure they all knew he was one, but there wasn’t another person better to have your back in any situation. It didn’t matter if you were in the right or wrong to Lambert if you were his family because he would fight teeth and nails for you either way.
But his temper. His bloody temper, and his trust issues. A breeze sent the curtains in the hall sussing against each other as Eskel raked a desperate hand through his own hair, thinking once again about putting this off and waiting another day, or week, or fuck, until next winter.
They all had their flaws. For many reasons, Lambert has issues with trusting others and had an inferiority complex that kicked up at the worst of times. Really, Eskel had no doubt that Lambert would accept him in the end, that he’d see him for the brother he’d always been and perhaps even manage to not make jokes about it (he never meant to be cruel but Lambert sometimes didn’t know where the line for cruelty was, and his head was thick). 
What worried him was his initial reaction. How Lambert would feel knowing he was the last to learn, even though it had not really been intentional. How he might feel to have been kept out of the know for years even if he wasn’t the only who hadn’t known - and Eskel wasn’t sure how to even explain that he himself hadn’t known for decades, only knowing that certain words made his skin crawl, that being called a woman had always made him blank and feel...outside of himself. For so long he’d not had the words to describe it and for a long time after he’d been afraid to, even to himself, even within his own mind, and his throat had constricted around the confession every time he’d thought to bring it up.
The breeze was too cold, biting at his cheeks and nose. But it helped him breathe, that fresh air, helped ground him with the feel of ice cold in his lungs. He...wasn’t sure how to do this. After doing it twice already, he still wasn’t sure, wasn’t certain. Doubts still tried to eat at his mind and heart but he knew he deserved this - he deserved to be who he was around his family, around his brothers, and there was nothing wrong with wanting to share that with them.
It was terrifying nonetheless, and he’d faced down monsters over twice his size before. Alone.
Finally, he gathered up his courage and knocked on the damn door, rapping his knuckles twice out of habit. The humming stopped instantly but the rasp of rock against steel didn’t pause, Lambert’s grouchy tone snarking out “It’s about time, thought you stand out there all damn day.”
Despite how nervous he was, Eskel rolled his eyes, taking that as the invitation it was and entering his room. He shut the door up tight behind him to keep the chill out, the warmth from the fireplace slowly spreading over his chilled cheeks, pleasant enough an atmosphere for one of the most terrifying conversations he’d ever have to have.
“Finally gonna spit it out?”
Lambert was sitting on the edge of his bed, sharpening tools and a cleaning kit spread out haphazardly across the mussed up blanket around him. His armor was tossed on the floor about him, parts polished and parts still scuffed and dirty from the road, a few of his knives and his silver sword still in their sheathes at his feet, too.
It was a little irksome, how randomly he’d decided to go about his polishing and cleaning, but Eskel really couldn’t micromanage the cleaning and upkeep of his weapons. At least he was doing it; that’s all that mattered.
“Need any help with that?” Didn’t mean he couldn’t offer. 
Lambert didn’t bite, though, a scowl showing just how unimpressed he was with Eskel’s deflection - even if it was a genuine offer. “Getting tired of you lurking out there every other day, so out with it. What do you want?” His eyes turned sharp for a second, stone pausing in its glide across the blade. “And this had better not have anything to do with the fucking cat, it’s fine, I’m fine, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Not about the fucking cat.” Eskel held up his hands in a placating manner, watching the tension instantly melt from Lambert when he did. Getting him to talk about his own issues was worse than pulling vampire teeth and he was really not in the mood for that. Not in the slightest. “I’ve got...well, my own shit to talk about.”
That caught Lambert’s interest, his face flashing in a complicated mess of emotion before it settled on something guarded. But Eskel knew him well enough to catch the hint of disbelief in his voice as he said, “Surprised you’re not waiting for Geralt then.”
Eskel shifted his weight to his right leg, actively making sure he didn’t look away. “No, this is something I’d like to discuss with you.”
“The fuck d’you think I did?”
“Not-” He was going to make a right mess of his hair at this rate, running his hands through it so much. “Not about you, Lambert, with you. Tell you something. Just...talking. If that’s alright.”
Lambert gestured towards a spare seat near Eskel with his sword, casual, as if both of them weren’t nervous now. It wasn’t like they never talked - they talked plenty, but serious conversations happened rarely if ever unless something was wrong. The last time they talked anything like this had been when Kaer Morhen had been ransacked, which had been so many years ago Eskel struggled to remember the exact amount.
He took the offered chair, slouching in it with his arms crossed and making himself as cozy as he could be. The heat from the fireplace was a bit too much for him now that the bite of winter was entirely gone; he’d always been the wolf that preferred the cold the most, or at least the one that could handle heat the least. It was one of the reasons he’d stayed here for so long to help Vesemir make the most out of the rubble and ashes, grumbling as much as the next over the snow but at least able to function in it.
The sound had returned. Scraping of stone against steel, a steady rhythm, one that helped steady Eskel’s heartbeat. It was mesmerizing in that way anything familiar and repetitive was, something that helped ground him when his mind wanted to panic with all of the ‘what ifs’ it could imagine. He was grateful for the otherwise quiet Lambert’s patience allowed them, though he knew it wouldn’t last, closing his eyes and breathing while he calmed his thoughts.
It wouldn’t be that hard. Couldn’t take that long. All he had to do was say it and it would be over with. Questions might come, hurt feelings might follow, but it would be done and they could move on. And better to do it before Lambert’s thin patience ran out on him.
“Lambert.” His mouth was a bit dry, words not coming easy to him. Eyes open now as he watched his brother’s hand glide across the flat of the blade resting in his lap, concentration written in the furrow of his brow but the twitch of his mouth told him Lambert was listening.
All he had to do was say it. That’s all. The rest would come after.
Stone against steel, grounding him. He breathed in as it ran down the blade, out as it reached the end and lifted once more. 
“I’m not a woman, Lamb.”
His eyes flicked down to the armor and weapons that lay at his brothers feet, heart picking up as it no longer had a rhythm to try and match. The fire crackled to his left, popping and hissing, one of the pieces of wood getting ready to fall in on itself any minute.
“What are you, then?”
“A man.” He licked his lips, eyes blinking faster than normal, his heart not letting him look up to see what might be on his brother’s face. What emotions might be flashing there, what response he might have, delaying it as long as possible.
“Kitty cat had a sister, you know?” Eskel’s stomach clenched at the word, his arms squeezing tighter around himself. “Not by blood, but by school, or however you’d call it - he called her sister, s’my point. I met her once when the bastard dragged me all the way down south to the coast, worst fucking decision of my life. The journey, not meeting her.”
Lambert’s deep breath is what made Eskel finally look up, seeing his brother’s face flushed, his jaw clenching in that way it always did when he was forced to deal with sticky things like delicate conversations or emotions.
“Maybe it’s not my fucking place to say it, but he told me and she knows I know it. Doubt you’ll ever meet her anyway, but she’s- ya know, not- she wasn’t always a woman? Or, she was, but didn’t live like one, dressed and talked and walked like a man.”
Oh. Eskel swallowed, sitting up a little more in his seat, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.
“So, fuck, I get it. I mean, I don’t, I don’t get it, but I understand what you’re saying.” He huffed in frustration but Eskel knew him well enough to know what at; words had never been his strong suit. “Feel free to fucking deck me if I slip up. She certainly had no problem with that.”
“Knocked some sense into you?”
That earned him a grin, Lambert finally meeting his eyes again. “Bitch knew how to fight, too. Thought I might have been in love.”
“Surprised you didn’t stay then.”
“Turned out she’s gay, so.” Lambert shrugged, giving his sword a once over before reaching for the sheath that had been laying on the bed next to him. “Guess I’d be barking up the wrong tree on that one.”
“Have to stick with your own cat then.”
The humor flickered away for a moment, Lambert scowling as he placed his now sheathed sword down next to his armor. “Yeah, well. Yeah... Might have...fucked up a little bit on that one.” Before Eskel could say anything, Lambert’s head jerked to the side, his hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Can we just- can we not talk about that? I’d rather stick to the ‘supportive, loving, dashing, best brother’ thing.”
“Right, yeah. That’s fine.”
There was a pause between them, a tinge of awkwardness in the air as they both fidgeted, not entirely sure where to go from there. The fire fizzled and popped, sending some embers out that landed on the stone floor, thankfully no where close to anything that could catch fire. It was all that spoke in the room besides the sounds of their heartbeats and breathing.
Lambert was the one who broke first, something making his leg bounce where his arm rested on it. “You didn’t think, ya know, that I wouldn’t- that I’d, I don’t fucking know, not? Support you, I mean.”
“I...” Eskel swallowed hard, thinking. “I didn’t think you wouldn’t, Lamb, but I wasn’t sure how the conversation would go. Didn’t know if you’d think I had been hiding it or not telling you on purpose.”
“Fuck, like I’d have any room to talk.” He scowled as he bit one corner of his thumb, chewing at a hangnail for a second. “When have I ever talked to any of you about feelings or whatever.”
It was true, but Eskel knew better than to take it at face value. Lambert was sensitive in a way he loved to hide and pretend he wasn’t, but they all knew him better than that. 
But there was no reason to think on all the ways the conversation could have gone poorly. It hadn’t, the air was clear between them, everything (or most everything) out in the open. But the hurt hadn’t left Lambert’s face since Aiden had been mentioned, by name or not, and that had Eskel’s chest hurting again.
What had his foolish Lamb done this time, he wondered. 
There was no way Lambert would accept any sort of comfort, but as Eskel shifted in his seat some more, not quite yet feeling the relief he’d hoped he would after their conversation was over, he had an idea as to how they might get some together.
“Feel free to say no,” he started slow, staring down at his own fingers and picking the dirt out from underneath them. “But I, well. This has been a lot for me. Talking about this. You might if we maybe...hug? For a while?”
It was probably pushing it, to take on ‘for a while’, but Eskel honestly found himself hoping Lambert said yes even for himself. 
The scoff was a bit expected, but the lack of a verbal ‘no’ was good. He looked up to find Lambert on the edge of an answer, confliction written all over his face, his hands clasped together and that one leg bouncing away as he started at nothing.
“Fine,” was the only answer he got, and Eskel took it quickly. And maybe it was pushing it a bit further when he wrapped Lambert up into his chest instead of the other way around but Lambert didn’t try to get away, tucking up under his chin and eventually relaxing into his brother’s arms the way he hadn’t since they were little and the nightmares had been too much.
He wasn’t sure how long Lambert would allow him this, would allow them both the comfort of each other, but he relaxed into it and decided to savor the physical touch as a reminder of their familial love for each other. However long Lambert would let him, he’d stay just like this, with the fire crackling on and the two brother’s embracing each other, the smell of home around them.
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koogl001 · 3 years
Text
Tender Mind - Chapter 7
Yandere Gerat of Rivia x Reader Rated: M Masterlist
„Now, let’s talk this out, shall we? You (Y/N) don’t worry. If anything happens, I’m here for you. And you Geralt, you are forbidden to come any closer to (Y/N), understood?“
Me, Vesemir and Geralt were in my room. I was sitting on my bed, hiding behind the covers with Vesemir next to me, while Geralt was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking rather unpleased.
“Hmm.”
Was the White Wolfs’ simple reply to his teacher, looking out the window. By now he was probably regretting his previous behaviour which led to this discussion. My eyes seemed to be glued to his face, which bore an unreadable expression. Or would Expressionless be more accurate? He caught me gazing, which made me instantly turn my head the other way, avoiding any form of eyes contact.
“Now then Geralt, I’m sure you must be confused as to what you witnessed. If you don’t mind, I shall explain and answer any questions thrown at me. Now, where to begin? I guess, let’s just start from the very beginning. When I first spoke to (Y/N), after she woke up, she was …”
I ignored the whole explanation, focusing my thoughts on more cheerful things. Like flower, I really like flowers. Especially white roses. But those were common only in the big, rich cities and only powerful people with strong influence and wealth could afford them in their gardens. ‘Ah, I remember once, when we went to Novigrad, we saw the garden full of them. I was stupid to not have taken one. There were so many the owners sure wouldn’t suspect one missing rose.’
“Well then, now that everything is clear, how about you two spend a bit of time bonding, eh? I will leave you to it…”
The door closed. ‘Wait, WHAT!?’ I was left alone with Geralt in the room. ‘What in the Gods’ name was Vesemir thinking, leaving me here?!’ I would try to make a run for it and follow Vesemir wherever he went, but the door was blocked behind a masculine body as soon as I glanced at it.
“Don’t even think about trying to run…Again.”
‘How can he even speak like that? Doesn’t it hurt to speak this raspy?’
“I wasn’t thinking of escaping. Just watching uncle Vesemir leave.”
How was I supposed to bond with HIM? I was not very fond of his presence, and I was pretty sure he himself wasn’t thrilled over getting to know each other.
“Sorry…for all the trouble…”
I buried my face into the softness of my blankets, my cheeks were burning up from the embarrassment. I behaved like a child having a tantrum. ‘To think he saw me like that, what a great first impression I must have made…’ My tear got soaked by the cloth. ‘Gosh, so embarrassing!’ I closed both my eyes tightly, just wishing for him to be on his merry way back to Kaer Morhen or wherever he was planning to go.
“No kiddin. You really are no good with new people.”
A chuckle? Was he being friendly? After all of that…
“Sorry.”
He was trying to be nice? My nose started hurting from pressing my face too hard against the quilt. Thankfully my nose wasn’t broken, but it still hurt. My side was also not helping.
“I should be the one apologizing, kid. I scared you, and I hurt you as well.”
I lifted my head, finding the courage to look at him, only to find him kneeling next to my bed. He looked back at me, his hand moved oh so slowly towards my face, caressing it. It was as if… He turned into a completely different person. So slowly…so carefully…
“…so gently…”
His ears twitched, I saw it from the corner of my eyes. Oh-um, did I say that out loud? ‘Please, Please, tell me he didn’t hear it!’ My face heating up more.
“A delicate flower is meant to be handled gently, with care.”
‘Where did that come from?!’ I was sure at his point my face could put a tomato to shame by its’ redness. My heart was beating franticly, but this time it didn’t feel uneasy, nor unpleasant. I was excited. The warmth of his big palm, his eyes gazing at me, his hot breath hitting my naked skin.
“I treat my women as they should be treated, as a treasure. I give them what they wish for, the jewels, the memories…the pleasure.”
“Leave.”
My blush disappeared, and so did the cozy feeling. I took his hand in mine, delicately, distancing it from my cheek. He looked surprised, astonished even? As if no woman has ever rejected him. ‘But with his looks and body, that might as well be the case.’ Before he could comprehend what was going on, I led him out the door, silently closing it behind him.
“Did she…just…”
The rain outside looked inviting. ‘Maybe I should go out for a bit.’
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some-stars · 2 years
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current list of Witcher Ideas I Would Very Much Like to Write At Some Point
S2-related:
geraskefer post-s2 fix-it (the thing being fixed is geralt, mostly, bc for my own sanity i HAVE to make his garbage this season make some kind of emotional sense, and i choose to do that by making things dramatically worse before they get better) (fun fact, this is going to be my first fic using the "i shook a witcher etc." tag bc that's basically the entire premise)
pre-series emhyr/cahir nasty manipulation and emotional/sexual abuse fic
fringilla and cahir on the run together post-s2 dealing not very healthily with their similar-but-different-in-key-ways issues, probably by fucking
jaskier/coen (/lambert) (/yennefer) where coen is the first witcher to make friends with jaskier and eventually wins lambert over to liking jaskier (possibly to join them in bed, possibly just as a friend) and also meanwhile jaskier & yennefer are besties or possibly also fucking, possibly it becomes a threesome/foursome, and it's all just very sweet and healing
dark but agonizingly romantic post-S2 frinfran about trust and betrayal and revenge and desperate angry love (i welcome concrete suggestions on actual events that could happen in this fic, all i have is the Mood)
this is not s2 related just s2 inspired, but, the modern AU where yen makes fantasy dildos and jaskier is her biggest customer and they fall in love...i rambled about this one a few days(?) ago so check my #notfic tag if u wanna know more
those fuckin kim & joey interviews keep giving me jaskier/vesemir thoughts but uh. that’s probably going to be some hardcore daddy/boy kink (like emotionally first, sexually second, exploring vesemir’s grief at outliving so many sons and having been forced to continue the cycle of abuse on the children in his care) and it will go on my Other Account For Especially Weird Porn, lmao
(yengilla isn't on this list bc i don't have a clear Idea for them--absolutely taking suggestions, btw--but GOD i want to write some yengilla. im SHIT at plot but if anyone has any thoughts on how/when/where they might intersect after s2 OR where in the first couple eps i could fit some yengilla, please throw them at me. unless you’re writing those thoughts yourself and then please let me know when you post it)
ideas i already had/was working on before S2 dropped
bookverse porn where dijkstra canes dandelion's feet as either "punishment" or “blackmail” (it's actually just stress relief for having to deal with dandelion but they both get off on the roleplay), followed by whimpery bratty sub dandelion "protesting" with crocodile tears when dijkstra fucks him afterward (needless to say i will be envisioning and describing dijkstra as his game version, physically, bc game dijkstra is a Sexual God)
geralt/lambert grief & comfort sex after killing karadin
geralt/renfri canon-divergence AU where he helps her kill stregobor and they run away with marilka tagging along and eventually renfri becomes a witcher (i actually have several thousand words of this one!)
eskel/lambert fuck or die romantic mutual noncon where an evil wizard has them captive and is making them perform, ostensibly for scientific research but also bc said wizard is a sadist
--OH and this isn’t even counting the two ideas i’m still vaguely interested in writing but friends have written both of them very well already and so the urgency is gone (yennskier piss kink that imagines his hands were much more badly burned so she has to hold his dick while he pees, and jaskier being raped in prison and then yen comforting him later and they bond over being Violated and Powerless)
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jaskiersvalley · 3 years
Text
Title: Keeper of Memories Rating: G Pairing(s): Implied Gerlat/Jaskier, implied Lambert/Eskel Characters: Vesemir, Eskel, Lambert Tags: Presumed character death Summary: Vesemir’s room was the largest in Kaer Morhen. Nowhere else was big enough to hold all the memories.
Written for @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo to fill the ‘Stuffed Animals’ square.
It was no secret that Vesemir had the biggest bedroom that could be found in Kaer Morhen. Despite it having led to some fierce arguments at the time, he stood firm in the face of Lambert’s fury and logic. Vesemir took the largest room but he allowed Lambert and Eskel to take the largest bed. That wasn’t why he needed the room but he would never tell the others the truth. So he allowed his pups to think it was some kind of pompous, hierarchical bullshit. They didn’t need to know the truth. It was just a fact of their lives that Vesemir had the biggest room and nobody was allowed in there.
Another fact of life was that the great hall had three tatty, stuffed toys on the mantlepiece of the fire that was never lit. There was no point in wasting fuel on all the fireplaces so only the kitchen, bedrooms and dining hall was ever lit and kept warm. Those three toys were all but forgotten, part of the décor and ignored. Quirky but if that was what Vesemir found tolerable decoration during the year when his pups were out on the Path, nobody was going to question it. The two patchy teddies and the ragged rabbit never seemed to accumulate dust as the years went on.
There were winters where Geralt didn’t return. But Vesemir wasn’t overly worried, the songs about the White Wolf and his latest heroic deeds were sung across the continent. It was a comfort in a way, no matter where the Wolves of Kaer Morhen went, they always knew Geralt was well. That didn’t mean the other two had as much fame and fortune. If there was a year they missed coming home for winter, there was no knowing their fate. Sometimes, if they had the coin, they could send a letter home to reassure the others but that was a rarity.
If Lambert or Eskel didn’t make it, Vesemir had a long year ahead of waiting. So did the other wolves home for the winter. Not that Geralt had returned in a couple of years, too busy spending winters with his bard in Oxenfurt. Given that Lambert was a bit patchy and not too enthused with climbing the mountain to Kaer Morhen, he was more likely to miss winters. It was almost expected that he’d go missing once every few years and then return the following winter as if nothing had happened. With Geralt away too, winter was very quiet when it was just Eskel and Vesemir. They did their best to keep Kaer Morhen patched up, shared chores and had evenings of quiet companionship.
The following year Lambert wasn’t back. Geralt did arrive with bard in tow and there was song and noise and life in the old keep. It made life more interesting and winter passed in a pleasant blur.
Third year without any sign of Lambert and Geralt was back in Oxenfurt if rumours were to be believed. Winter was near silent by contrast to the previous one.
“There’s no sign of him,” Eskel said as he and Vesemir locked Kaer Morhen for the fourth winter without Lambert. War was ravaging the Continent, people were scared and antsy. A witcher who hadn’t been home for four years was unlikely to ever come back.
Nodding, Vesemir knew the truth. He didn’t want to believe it but to deny it was to deny Lambert’s rest. Together they built an empty pyre and lit it without saying a word. Once the fire was low, Vesemir turned to go back inside and, after a silent moment, Eskel followed. Rather than go to the dining hall where they’d pulled chairs close to the fire, Vesemir headed to the entrance hall. There, he picked up the old rabbit from the mantlepiece.
“You might as well see it,” he said to Eskel and they walked to Vesemir’s room.
On silent hinges the door swung open to reveal a room with a bed and shelves from floor to ceiling. Each of them was carefully lined with old stuffed toys, some barely recognisable from how often they’d been repaired over the years. Walking in, Vesemir put the rabbit on the shelf with the most space.
“Every recruit was made a soft toy to have for the first couple of weeks while they settled in,” Vesemir said. “Each shelf is a cohort. Though some do migrate if special bonds have been formed.”
Eskel thought of the two bears on the mantlepiece and knew they were him and Geralt. And he also knew that their bears would join Lambert’s rabbit on a shelf when the time came.
“Do you have one?”
Vesemir’s eyes drifted to a tatty toy on his desk. It may have once been a wolf but it had long since lost its ears and button eyes.
“They all have names you know.” Vesemir drew their attention back to the shelves. “I’ve kept their memories, written them down so even if they are no longer with us, they’re not forgotten.” After a moment’s hesitation, he quietly offered, “I know you and Lambert were close. You could help me write his entry.”
For the rest of the winter, Eskel spent a lot of time in Vesemir’s bedroom, learning all the names of long dead witchers, some of whom he vaguely remembered from his own training days. He read the stories that went with each name, tried to get a feel for the person they used to be. As winter drew to a close and the snow started to melt, they needed to make the newest entry.
“Lambert is-” Eskel cleared his throat, “was probably best summed up as a prickly ball of cotton.”
Thinking about him hurt. Remembering all his stupid things, like fishing with bombs had Eskel’s throat tightening as emotions overwhelmed him. “He wasn’t just a witcher, he was my partner,” he whispered and Vesemir set the quill aside to pull him in for a tight hug.
“I know. And I’m so sorry.” Words were powerless to bring Lambert back or to sooth the gaping hole left by him. But it was all they had and, as witchers always did, they would make-do with them.
Come spring, Eskel glanced at the two almost identical teddies on the mantlepiece. “I’ll be back for winter, I promise.”
It was a promise he made good on, returning a little sooner than usual. Geralt had come with Jaskier and, much to Eskel’s surprise, there was a new stuffed toy on the mantlepiece - a bird of some description, made of an old shirt.
The four of them settled for the winter, they had everything they needed, the keep was mostly repaired and their stores were filled with food. Geralt had the good grace to look forlorn when they told him about the pyre for Lambert that he missed. That evening, Jaskier sang slower songs, ones of times gone by and memories that needed to be treasured.
Nobody expected the front door of the keep the slam open three days later with a holler of “the rabbit finally kick the bucket? Nice bird replacement!”
Rushing to the entrance hall, Eskel’s jaw dropped at the sight of Lambert looking whole and healthy. In his wake were two new additions.
“Brought some friends to liven shit up,” Lambert said as he took his time to look over Eskel. “If Pretty Boy could bring his bard, I figured I could bring friends for both of us.”
Words choked in his throat, Eskel pulled Lambert into a bearhug, all but lifting him off the ground. There were no tears but a lot of touches, making sure the other was really there.
It was the fullest Kaer Morhen had been in decades. Lambert had been right, he did bring friends in the form of Aiden and Cahir. More than friends, as time revealed. They fit seamlessly into their winter routines and proved to be quite the addition to the ragtag group.
By the time spring rolled around and Kaer Morhen opened its gates again, the rabbit was back on the mantlepiece. But, in addition there were two cats there too and Vesemir nodded to Eskel. It could be their secret for now. But Kaer Morhen would never forget its family.
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darlingimabard · 4 years
Text
the ongoing saga of alfred pankratz
my own fic about this will be going up on ao3 tomorrow, it’s planned to eventually span all of jaskier’s childhood + staying at kaer morhen though so buckle up kids we’re in for the long haul until then, here are some fun facts about this au:
Vesemir follows after Alfred into Kaer Morhen and offers to treat his injured hand, Alfred is charmed by how gently Vesemir handles him despite his gruff demeanour and the fact that he just punched one of his sons
Vesemir knows Geralt won't even bruise from that hit and the idiot confessed himself that he drove away his bard but he's still impressed that Alfred had the guts to do it
He compliments Alfred's bravery and the professor loses all of his cool immediately 
Vesemir…likes that more than he thinks he should, plus Alfred's got really soft curls and lovely warm brown eyes…
Tender homoerotic wrapping of a bandage around a hand ensues
After that it's gay panic 2: electric boogaloo because both of them thought they would be single dads forever? And haven't dated anyone in decades?? or just haven’t dated full stop???
They get drunk with each other and bond over the struggles of parenting and huh, they actually have a lot of things in common...
Vesemir enjoys flirting with Alfred to watch that unflappable veneer break and because he gets a lot of reactions from people, fear, hatred, respect but adorably flustered has never been one of them, it’s...nice
Alfred is delighted to learn that he can fluster Vesemir back by writing poetry about him and then reading it aloud for 'feedback'
It cumulates to Alfred leaning on his shoulder while reciting a piece about the witcher’s strong arms, tilting his head up at Vesemir once he’s finished with that soft grin that doesn’t belong anywhere near the harshness of an old witcher 
Vesemir snaps, closing the distance between their lips and yeah, he’s still got it 
So does Alfred, despite the fact that he’s fourty
“My dear, as flattering as that assumption is, I’m 61.” “Wait, what? you’re barely even greying???”
Because Alfred has the dubious honour of being the first human to be a member of the fae court and their magic just kind of rubbed off on him
The court turned up to recruit Jaskier due to spike of distinctly fae magic surrounding Oxenfurt but Alfred was like my kid is 11 he's not doing anything other than colouring in and chasing frogs
So he became Jaskier's legal representative
This event marks the point in Alfred's life when he just gave up and was like fine fuck it, my life's already weird enough, let's just do this
(fun oxenfurt academy fact: if you hear faint yelling from the forest, that’s just professor pankratz doing some stress relief, you can even differentiate what he’s stressed about, there’s the general stress scream, the Jaskier stress scream and the ‘my students are idiots’ stress scream)
It becomes much more amusing when he realises that he's the only one who can lie in court
He gets away with talking shit because he passes it off as oh, just his oblivious child’s words and even if they ask, he knows Jaskier will automatically back him up cause his son loves drama
This is also when he learns that he's accidently trained Jaskier to be a terrifying powerhouse because Alfred had no preconceived notions of what should be impossible with magic so Jaskier regularly breaks fae magic rules without batting an eye while his newly assigned tutors scream in frustration
The court is less mean than they could be though because usually fae have to trick humans into adopting changelings but then Alfred just did it. it wasn’t even disguised as his kid??? Just a random child??? And he just adopted him with no prompting???
Alfred’s like yeah? what else was I supposed to do???
Also the reason Jaskier doesn't use his last name is because Pankratz is recognizable as the name of the bestselling author who wrote all those beautiful poems about the joys of having a son and how precious his child is to him
Medieval equivalent of your parents showing off your baby pictures to your friends except instead of friends it's the entire continent, dad! no one is going to take me seriously when they know me as your ‘baby buttercup’!
Thanks to everyone who gave love and requested more of this silly idea of mine it’s my first real fanfic so all this support means a lot! tags under cut
@daisyannewinchester @so--many-fandoms @i-can-see-the-stars @queen-ryla @skywing4797 @caspertheassholeghost @the-real-dannix @mewbotz @ellaprime7 @drowningbydegrees @witchersjaskier @therockroseandthistle  @lazyboii17 @countessklair @musings-on-bucky-barnes @illustrativewriter @anotherbookwithtornpages @bardic-charm @19lady-mad81 @ealdor  @ewanspotter 
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
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PFFFF The newest Witcher trailes LITERALLY throws shade! They have the 'Geralt, but you've been such lone wofl so long, what change' and deadass show JASKIER before later shoving Geralt saying 'Yennefer' like a cheap 'no homo!' excuse. I can't. xD Whoever edited it knows what's on. xD
I feel so conflicted about the Jaskier-Geralt relationship in the show because on the one hand, yeah, they're definitely leaning into this non-romance in a way that can get uncomfortable for some, how shall I put this... jaded viewers lol. We know they'll never be canon. No matter what else we might say about Netflix's inability to accurately adapt the books, Geralt/Yennefer has always and will always be endgame, so getting intimacy between Geralt and Jaskier in these particular ways (flirty jokes, bath scene, argument staged like a breakup), while not explicitly queerbaiting, can make viewers feel... icky about it all. Especially for any show-only fans who might not know that Geralt/Yennefer is endgame. Many viewers, particularly American viewers, approach shows as malleable forms of entertainment that can provide them with the representation they crave, provided the fanbase is vocal enough about wanting it. And the more talk that surfaces about major, crucial changes to the plot that reinterpret huge swaths of the books' purpose and intent, the more it can feel like they might just change Geralt's love life too! Even though they (obviously) won't. And frankly shouldn't given that this is supposed to be a faithful adaptation.
Yet on the flipside, the Netflix versions of Jaskier and Geralt don't feel intimate to me at all. Their hostile introduction, Geralt outright punching him, the continued performance of 'I'm a big strong manly man who can't admit that he cares about others,' reducing decades of their bonding to a surprising, throwaway line, that argument when Geralt blames Jaskier for all his problems... it's terrible and I've never liked this dynamic for them (even as I, somewhat hypocritically, play with it in fic). So I'm like, you're intimate enough that fans are starting to side-eye the creators' intentions and yet simultaneously not intimate in any of the ways you should be if you were actually faithful adaptations of the book. And these problems, I believe, go hand-in-hand. By ignoring the actual friendship of the books, Netflix has been forced to "prove" that they care for one another by falling back on tired buddy tropes that, historically, fans have used as evidence for a potential romantic relationship. By not writing Geralt and Jaskier as having the open, witty, philosophical, caring-but-also-taking-no-shit relationship they had in the books, Netflix has fallen back on a dynamic that isn't doing their show any favors. Fans either hate it, or love it to the point where they expect something of the show that the show can never deliver.
So it's a mess! And that mess hasn't done Yennefer any favors either. I'm really not in a position to be defending that pairing - I've never hid that I'm not a Geralt/Yen fan - but whatever the books did that made others love their relationship... I don't think Netflix is capitalizing on that either. In that other ask I brought up how in the games their relationship seems to revolve entirely around Ciri and sex. If they're not talking about their daughter (or if Yen isn't being cruel) their relationship is just about how horny they are for each other, which... isn't really a relationship to me. Or at least, not the deep, "We belong together forever, we're basically soulmates" relationship that the franchise is going for. Same with Netflix. I never liked the foundation of their relationship being an ambiguous wish that tethered them irrevocably and a quickie in the rubble as a replacement for actually getting to know one another... but Netflix takes those aspects and emphasizes them to a disappointing degree.
"You spent a lifetime alone. What changed?"
"Yennefer of Vengerberg."
Yet when it comes time for the trailer to show us what this deep, insightful relationship is that changed a man after an entire lifetime of wandering alone... it's just sex. That's literally all Netflix is able to show us because that's the only meaningful interactions Geralt and Yen have had together. Here's a clip of them falling into bed together and Geralt, without any of that emotional work shown to the viewer, professes that he loves Yennefer the way she's always wanted to be loved.
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Here's a clip of the joke we got where Jaskier is gaping over them having sex on the floor post-Yen nearly killing the lot of them.
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I'm like... what out of any of this is meant to be appealing to me? Besides the fact that they're both hot as hell? (The casting does make my little bi heart happy lol.) For me, Geralt and Yen are a classic case of a story insisting they're meant for each other because That's Just How Stories Work, without doing any of the actual, you know, work to show us why they like each other, or how they got there, or why these superficial things (the sex is great!) trump the huge hurdles they should be working through. The games might have their flaws, but god bless 'em for letting the characters point out, "Hey... how do we even know this love is real and not just a byproduct of the djinn's wish?"
Geralt and Jaskier, as established, absolutely have their problems in the show, but I can understand why so many fans ship them over Geralt/Yen. And no, though bigotry can play a part, we also can't demonize the entirety of its popularity with, "You just hate women/are racist/creepily obsessed with queer men/whatever the latest accusation is." Rather, the popularity exists because, whatever their faults, it feels like they actually have a relationship in the show. We see them developing together in a way we simply don't get with Yennefer/Geralt and because that development isn't largely reduced to sex scenes—the narrative trying to pass every bonding moment off as True Love, with True Love equaling physical attraction—it comes across (at least to me) as more realistic and believable, especially given Geralt's character, someone who is emotionally closed off. If Vesemir (I think it's Vesemir) asked what changed and we deliberately cut to that moment of Jaskier leaving after Geralt drove him away... I'd more easily believe that yeah, this relationship is causing Geralt to rethink things in a way he hasn't for an entire lifetime. We've seen them travel together, become (begrudging) comrades, defend one another, do favors for each other, tease each other, have a major fight that they'll inevitably make up from, Jaskier is presented as Geralt's first friend, and none of this is tied to a questionable wish, or passed off as the totality of Geralt's development.
The fact that Netflix would include those lines, cut to a legitimately heart-wrenching moment between Geralt and Jaskier, but when it comes times to show his relationship with Yennefer, the most powerful moments are her without him (smashing the mirror, undergoing her transformation, stepping out in her new body for the first time, etc.) and their moments together are just sex—one of which is used partially for comedy—well... that just illustrates the problem for me. What relationship? The one that supposedly exists simply because the story says it's there? I don't think I'll ever be a Geralt/Yen shipper, but I'm perfectly capable of separating my personal preferences from subpar writing choices. Netflix is far into the latter. The way that they're adapting the story is, imo, hurting both fans of the book material and fans who are on the fence about book material. Because so few of these changes are working well, we've lost all the good the books contained and are now stuck with so much new bad. Basically, "No one liked that."
Except, of course, for the Geralt/Jaskier shippers riding the coattails of those tropes... though many will likely be disappointed and hurt by the series' end when they're not made canonical, with others growing frustrated with how the fandom has turned on them simply for liking what they were given. It's really turning into a lose-lose for everyone involved.
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astralalmighty · 4 years
Text
Here, have my version of “Jaskier gets kidnapped by Nifguarrd”
because i was bored
After the mountain, Jaskier spends a week drinking his sorrows and feeling rather pissed off, then he picks himself backs up and continues his life as a bard.
He stumbles upon Yennefer in a bar and they drink together, and then befriend each other.
They spend the next few months traveling on and off, getting each other out of sticky situations, and planning on how to find a baby for Yen.
Jaskier says kidnap one from a bad family, Yen is unsure if she would be satisfied knowing how she get the child.
They respect each other and become good friends, even affectionately nicknaming each other Yenna and Buttercup.
Yennefer eventually visits Istredd while she and Jaskier are apart, and goes to Sodden.
She is wounded badly releasing her chaos, and manages to portal herself to Jaskier, who helps her recover.
  About a month after the Fall of Cintra, Nifguarrd places a bounty on Jaskier’s head.
Jaskier is kidnapped, and tortured for a month on the locations of Geralt and Ciri.
He says absolutely nothing for fear of accidentally giving any information.
Mind-reading spells don’t work on him for some unknown reason (cough cough he’s not human). The mages are baffled and Jaskier is thankful.
Yennefer has been in hiding, and manages to find Jaskier through Triss’s help.
They rescue him rather anticlimactically, and Yen helps Jaskier recover.
They eventually part ways, with Yen going to the other mages to help with the war, and Jaskier begins traveling alone, helping where he can.
Jaskier also begins hunting monsters and taking contracts as a source of income, and ends up stopping his singing altogether.
  By now, it’s been three months after Cintra fell.
Jaskier becomes very strong and talented. He can fight and barter beautifully.
All the while, Yen and him remain in contact.
One night, a young girl attempts to steal from his camp.
He catches her, and realizes it’s Ciri.
She’s alone, and terrified. They bond, and while she never tells him who she is, Jaskier knows exactly who she is.
He never asks about Geralt, but makes a silent promise to protect her and raise her.
Eventually, she reveals she had been traveling with her father, but they had been attacked by bandits and she ran.
Jaskier strongly suspects it’s Geralt she’s referring to.
Yen is too weak to portal to them, but tells Jask she will get to them as soon as she can.
The two really bond, and grow into a father-daughter relationship, with lots of wonderful hair braiding because Jask has long hair and they both love hair.
One day, they’re attacked by Nifguarrdian soldiers and Ciri screams.
She managed to control her power enough to not harm Jaskier (cough cough non human), but she kills the soldiers.
Jaskier reveals he knows who she is and who Geralt is.
  They continue traveling, and one day stumble across Geralt in an old inn.
Geralt and Ciri both cry, and Jaskier spends approximately three minutes feeling happy, then remembers how angry he is.
He tells Geralt he doesn’t want to talk to him about the past, but made a promise to protect Ciri and swears to keep that promise until his dying breath.
Geralt tells him he wants to talk to him and he wants them to travel together.
Jaskier spits out his ale after hearing that.
Once Ciri goes to sleep, Geralt apologizes. Jaskier asks for some time, which Geralt gives.
Jaskier doesn’t tell him about Nifguarrd, Geralt doesn’t ask.
Geralt has no idea that Jaskier was kidnapped, only that Jaskier has a few new scars, has long hair, wears simple clothing, can fight like hell, and is far more sexy than Geralt expected.
  They travel to Kaer Morhen, and Jaskier and Ciri meet the wolves.
Yennefer eventually makes her way to Kaer Morhen, and Geralt will forever deny the confusion he felt when Jaskier and Yen ran to each other, embraced, and cried at their reunion.
  The wolves, princess, mage, and former bard settle into a routine.
Yen trains Ciri in magic, Jaskier teaches her everything about academics (with help from Vesemir, Yen, and Eskel), the wolves train her and teach her to fight, and Ciri begins to find a new family.
Jaskier also begins sparring with the wolves, but refuses to remove his shirt.
Geralt never understands why.
Geralt does understand that Jaskier is very impressive with a sword and Geralt should seriously stop ogling him during training.
Lambert, Eskel, and Vesemir love the bard, mage, and princess Geralt brought into their lives.
  Drunken shenanigans. Amiright?
  Often, Ciri has nightmares, and she goes to Jaskier when she can’t sleep. She knows about his nightmares and feels better when he comforts her.
Jaskier also has nightmares, but no one knows except Ciri and Yen.
Geralt feels a little detached when he learns of Ciri always going to Jask, but when he overhears then talking after a bad nightmare, he feels better knowing Jaskier is such an amazing father to her.
Yen and Ciri begin to have a mother-daughter bond.
Lambert and Eskel realize they’re becoming uncles, and Vesemir notices his presence as a grandfather.
  One night, Geralt happens to awake late after caring for Roach, and overhears Jaskier having a nightmare. He doesn’t barge in, but he begins to suspect there’s more to Jaskier’s past.
He overhears more of Jaskier’s nightmares, and asks Yen about them, but she refuses to tell him.
  Halfway through the winter, there’s a warm spell, and Jaskier volunteers to travel down the mountain and to get supplies.
Nifguarrd is after every Witcher, not just Geralt, and Yen needs to stay to protect Ciri.
Jaskier returns within two weeks with all the supplies and an injured arm.
He explains how there had been a contract for a kikimora, and he was injured when the monster fell on his arm after the fatal blow.
Geralt is shocked and angry that Jaskier would risk his life so recklessly, and Jaskier reply is, “It’s not like it was my first kikimora, Geralt.”
Needless to say, Geralt bluescreens.
  Jaskier explains to Geralt part of his past, how he and Yen became friends, and how he began training and fighting after the Fall of Cintra.
He avoids, though, his time with Nifguarrd.
A few days later, and several months after Jask and Geralt met again, Jaskier forgives Geralt for the mountain and the years they spent in a one-sided relationship.
He knows Geralt is sorry and has changed as a person. He may have already moved on from the past, but it’s time he truly let go of all anger and bitterness he feels.
Geralt is relieved and thanks him.
Cut to the wolves drinking and Geralt drunkenly confessing his love for Jaskier and his brothers respond with, “We know how you look at him idiot, now go kiss him.”
Geralt panics and refuses.
Jaskier is unfortunately absent from this conversation.
  Not much time after that, Geralt accidentally walks in on Jaskier bathing, and sees Jaskier’s scars.
Jaskier was whipped by Nifguarrd, and has numerous scars on his back.
Jaskier yells at Geralt to get out, and Geralt knows that there’s more to Jaskier’s past.
Geralt confronts Jaskier, and cautiously asks him if he knows the entire truth about Jaskier’s past.
Jaskier admits that Geralt doesn’t know everything and tells him about Nifguarrd. He keeps it brief.
Geralt is guilt-ridden, and confides with Yen.
She sighs, and says, “If Jaskier ever blamed you, he forgave you long before you ever even apologized. If he knew what the future would’ve been when you first met, that would’nt’ve stopped him from traveling with you. Also you two are very much in love just kiss already.”
Geralt is somewhat reassured.
  A few days later, Jaskier has a very bad nightmare, and takes a walk. Geralt follows and finds him on one of the balcony things (idk architecture).
Jaskier knows that Geralt feels guilty, and convinces Geralt that what happened to him was never and never will be his fault. Geralt was guilty, but is now swayed by Jaskier’s words and actions.
Geralt thanks Jaskier for being there for him, and for forgiving him. Feeling rather bold now, he mentions how Jaskier had been trying to figure out what pleased him, and tells Jaskier he’s been thinking about this. He says, “I know what pleases me now, you.”
Jaskier asks Geralt if he’s reading this situation correctly, and Geralt tells him that Jaskier is a poet, and he trusts poet’s judgements. Jaskier laughs and tells Geralt that poets read situations whatever way they want to, regardless of the accuracy. Geralt responds by cupping Jaskier’s cheek and telling him he’s reading the situation correctly.
Jaskier kisses him under the stars. (FINALLY)
Geralt kisses back. (ABOUT TIME)
Annnnnd they fall into bed together. (I am not writing smut, no thank you, I am not risking that, we are gonna rate this Mature because of the violence, not because of any horny idiots in love).
  Next morning: Lambert bursts into Geralt’s room in a panic, telling Geralt they’ve lost Jaskier and can’t find him.
Geralt says Jask is probably fine, and Lambert is not consoled, and continues to rant until Jaskier pops out of the blankets and demands what’s going on.
Needless to say, Geralt kicks Lambert out.
Lambert: We found the bard; Yen: Oh where was he?; Eskel: With Geralt; Lambert: More like under Geralt; Vesemir and Yen: ......; Yen:     Fucking FINALLY; Ciri: Oh gross but I agree Yenna
(Yes this is how everyone finds out)
  So yeah now these two are FINALLY in a relationship.
And everyone sorta falls into this big found family, and they spend their days training and learning, and their nights spending time together.
Jaskier even begins to sing again (much to Ciri’s, Geralt’s, and Yen’s urging).
Eventually, winter ends, and they need to decide if it’s safe for anyone to go out.
Yen gets in contact with Triss, who comes to Kaer Morhen.
Triss gives them a basic rundown of the war, and they all decide that Vesemir, Ciri, and Yen will stay at Kaer Morhen, while the rest of the wolves and Jask will continue traveling, but they all need to keep low profiles.
It ends with this set-up, and a final look at the mountain before the witchers and the bard part ways, all intent on returning home to their family by the next winter.
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trashbaggage · 4 years
Text
okay okay okay
the movie “enchanted”, but witcher-fied (sorry this got away from me a bit)
there’s a stereotypical medieval fantasyland where jaskier julian alfred pankratz is the prince of lettenhovia. he’s got the looks, voice, and affinity for attracting woodland animals of a disney princess. also, the tragic backstory: his parents died in a freak accident when he was young. but don’t worry, his creepy “uncle” stregobor took upon himself the burden of ruling in their stead, until julian grew up and became ready for the throne.
(basically, stregobitch is like rasputin, and had tricked and slimed his way into the crown’s good graces before, surprise surprise, killing off the king and queen. he left julian alive to take some of the heat off of him with that extra distraction of grieving child. alas, poor little princeling that he can play the benevolent guardian to.)
and things are gr8 for good ol streggy, julian seems more inclined to sing and wander than become bogged down with the responsibility of becoming king. everything’s comin up stregs.
and then, of course, there’s a prophecy about how julian will be his doom or whatev and he needs to get on that shit STAT like he’s never heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy before (to be fair, fantasyland doesn’t have ancient greek tragedies to learn from so rip stregosaurus). but before he can implement his sophisticated plan of julian dying in an “accident”, our dear jules wanders too far and falls down a magic well into the Real World.
and he’s like, sweet, look at all this stuff! this is great and - oh hello, very attractive man with silken white hair and eyes as golden as the dawn light falling gently upon newly blossomed lillies and thighs that can crush his head and his heart, what up. and geralt is very confused and frustrated and oddly and begrudgingly charmed by this loudly dressed and loudly singing idiot accosting him outta nowhere, but his daughter ciri seems to like him so i guess we can keep him for a night but if he pees on the rug he’s out.
cue fun family bonding, musical numbers, shenanigans, all that jazz; julian, now jaskier cuz new world new him babey,, exploring and learning and having the time of his life and trying to get this broody man to open up and show that kindness his scowl can’t quite hide.
aaaaand cut back to streginald throwing a fit that the prince has cleverly evaded his dastardly plans, he has underestimated him it seems, and he can’t just let this massive loose thread keep flappin in the breeze, so he sends yennefer to deal with him.
now, yennefer is streggo my eggo’s daughter in this, and he’s raised her to be his right hand woman, his evil apprentice, the (much smarter) kronk to his yzma, and she’s been promised power once her dad fully claims the throne, so ofc she gets right on tracking that crafty twunk down to kill him. in the process, she comes across roach, julian’s horse and bff talking animal companion, by the magic well, gathering up the fucks to go after her wayward idiot. a struggle ensues, and yen and roach both go through the portal.
so now we got the side plot of these two trying to find jaskier, yen to kill him and roach to huff reproachfully at him for getting into this mess and if anyone is gonna kill him she will for dragging her across realms (she does not like portals, okay, they feel weird) not some uppity witch. so they got their tomfoolery of yen almost killing an unaware jaskier but then roach foiling her plans. she also tries to kidnap ciri as bait for a trap, but she can’t hurt this kid she’s too precious, ow ow ow, why does her chest feel weird?? she’s actually starting to find the boundaries to her thirst for power and it kinda sucks and feels nice at the same time??? 0/10 do not recommend
during this, geralt’s quiet life is being upended by this weird dude and he’s never danced so much in his life and his child is conspiring against him to set him up with this clearly deranged but very nice and pretty man but he’s not staying ciri we have to get him back to .....wherever tf he came from i don’t even like him, what are you talking about,,,
it all comes to a head at the costume ball, where geralt and jaskier are dancing and making eyes at each other until roach bursts in and tries to charades her way into warning her idiot to run motherfucker but she can’t talk in this realm so ugh and geralt horsegirl rivia is just like omg ur best friend is a horse that’s so fucking cool i love you even more.
and then yen bursts in; she’s kinda struggling to fulfill her mission, cuz she’s been watching jaskier and geralt and they just seem like two idiots that couldn’t possibly threaten anything, let alone her father’s power grab. she’s also made frenemies with roach, she’s the only motherfucker who can handle her in this city. so she just tries to scare jaskier into never returning, which works pretty well because she is v v scary, and then stregobonkers comes strolling in like wtf why is this taking you so long just kill him!! and yen is like i’ve kind of grown this pesky con- 🤢 consci- 🤢, wait, just, give me a min,,,, conscience!! yeah, that’s the bitch! anyway, stop telling me what to do dad and stregobego drops a bomb and goes i always knew you had a weakness to you, just like your parents!
and it’s just,,
silent.
what? what do you - my parents?
and it turns out he saw the power she held and wanted it under his control, so he killed her parents (it’s like, his signature move at this point) and groomed her to be his obedient little weapon. and, understandably, yen is pissed off and hurt and goes to lash out at him, but he just smirks and clicks his fingers while muttering under his breath, and everything stops for yen a second time as her mind blanks.
sneaky streg had put in a fail safe, in case she ever got out of line, and the amulet he gave her “for protection and focus, you must never take it off” lights up and puts her under his command and she turns into a sickass dragon that starts tearing up the dance floor, literally, in her rampage to kill jaskier.
geralt and jaskier go oh shit and dodge for their lives and things are looking pretty dire, but then jaskier looks at the suits of armor set up for decoration and goes wait a minute and grabs a sword to toss at geralt and just goes cover me boo and aim for that amulet and if you miss we’ll probably all die so no pressure!! and just sprints out and distracts angry dragon!yen and geralt goes goddamnit jaskier and sneaks around until he can jump at her and do a completely improbable matrix leap to stab at the amulet, and because this is a romcom and i get to choose my coping mechanisms, he makes it and yen is free from streg egghead’s power and she turns to him, still a dragon, and smiles wide with all them sharp sharp teeth and he goes ohhhh shiiiit and tries to run, but jaskier very helpfully trips him up and goes eat up my lady and dragon yen does, with great relish.
in conclusion, everyone lives happily ever after except streggles. geralt gets over his baggage and professes his love for jaskier, jaskier goes i’m not that easy geralt there needs to be wooing! i deserve to be wooed!! before heavily making out with him in the next five seconds. jaskier gives yen his blessing to become queen of lettenhovia, because he never really wanted the job anyway and she deserves it after what she’s been through. she still comes back every sunday for brunch and to teach ciri how to fight (she’s mine now, i’ve adopted her so she needs to learn the fine art of pointy things geralt) and geralt, jaskier, and ciri take holidays to fantasyland and roach is free to roam wherever she wants and becomes an advisor to yen.
the end
(extra dramatic addendum: geralt finally brings jask home to meet his family; vesemir opens the door and geralt goes this is my boyfriend, jas- but vesemir cuts him off with a choked out pRiNcE JuLiAn?! and it turns out vesemir is also actually from fantasyland. he worked for julian’s parents; the prevalence of monsters had been steadily rising, and so they had the idea to create witchers to combat them. kaer morhen was created under their sanction and vesemir was a teacher there, but he became disenfranchised with every boy that didn’t make it through the trials. when the keep was attacked by fanatics against witchers, he smuggled out eskel, lambert, coen, and geralt, and hid them away. he looked at these traumatized kids and went well that won’t do, followed up on some rumors of a new world, had a mage friend alter the boys’ memories, and skedaddled for our world. very shocking reveal, angsty angst-ness as geralt and the others deal with repressed memories and the fact that jaskier’s parents were responsible for it all, y’know, all that good stuff)
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hummingbee-o0o · 4 years
Text
Parting Gifts (Winters at Kaer Morhen 1)
The wind changes and the first whiffs of thaw begin to flicker in the air. Up in the peaks of Kaer Morhen the ice and snow still hold unmoved, but Geralt can smell the spring stirring in the foothills when the wind blows just right.
Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir can smell it too. His brothers pace like he does, knowing soon they’ll start making ready. Vesemir smiles, small and restrained, and hides in his study more than usual. The old man does get a bit misty sometimes when it’s time for the three of them to leave.
Except it’s not three this year. It’s four.
Jaskier, for all his lack of Witcher senses, seems to feel the spring in the air too. He keeps singing about flowers and mornings, entire landscapes crafted out of song, the plucking of his lute strings somehow fresh like a stream.
It’s his first winter at Kaer Morhen and it’s been... good. More than good. Kaer Morhen doesn’t have much luxury to offer, and most of its splendour has crumbled away when viewed up close, but it has plenty of fire in the hearth, a steady routine of filling meals, soft beds with furs and blankets for comfort, and all the hot water for bathing one could want.
To Geralt, these things are a luxury, never mind that they take turns peeling vegetables and chopping wood (Jaskier turned out to be remarkably skilled at both and was put to work accordingly), but there had been a thorn of anxiety prickling somewhere in the back of Geralt’s mind as he led Jaskier up the mountain, walking ahead to shield him from the worst of the snow billowed in their faces by icy cold winds. Jaskier is no stranger to sleeping rough on the road and making do with whatever food can be found in leaner times, and he does it with cheerful indifference or colourful swearing and whinging. But Geralt had worried that Jaskier might expect Kaer Morhen to be... well, more. More than what actually awaited him. He seemed to have built it up into a heroic fantasy of a fortress in his mind, and the higher they climbed and the more Jaskier shivered and murmured comforting things to himself about food and bedding, Geralt worried that he would be disappointed.
As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. Jaskier gasped his awe when the keep first loomed into view, and ate three helpings of the thick, hot stew they were greeted with. Even tired, he was delighted to meet Eskel and Lambert and Vesemir, and he grinned when Geralt was teased about finally bringing him along. And when at last it was time to retire after the final and most gruelling stretch of their journey, Jaskier slept like a log, in Geralt’s bed, in Geralt’s arms, wrapped in furs and blankets and snoring lightly into Geralt’s chest.
Winter drags slow and lazy, its days filled with chores and sparring and idleness, but it still comes to an end. And as much as Geralt enjoyed having Jaskier here, with him, safe and warm and filling the keep with his cheerful voice, he’s also looking forward to resuming their life on the Path. To warmer days and new sights and having Jaskier all to himself again – as quietly happy as he is that his brothers and Vesemir have taken to Jaskier so much, he’s looking forward to it being just the two of them again.
Eskel is the one to head out first, as he usually does, braving the mountain pass while it’s still snowed over. He exchanges embraces with Lambert and Geralt, and then he pulls Jaskier into one as well.
“For you,” he says, putting something small in Jaskier’s hand. “Thank you for my songs. I... look forward to hearing them on the road.”
“Oh,” says Jaskier, surprised but clearly touched. “Thank you, that’s quite terribly sweet of you, my friend!” He turns the small gift over in his fingers, a little confused (from where Geralt is standing it looks like a coin, but he has enough dignity to not strain to try and get a better look). “This is very, erm... what is it?”
Eskel grins.
“Relax. Geralt will tell you what to do with it. Just... something to keep you safe out there.”
Geralt bristles, because he’s very much dedicated to keeping Jaskier safe just fine, fuck you, Eskel – but he tries to stamp out that impulse.
“I must say, your brother is a darling,” coos Jaskier later, once Eskel is gone, and for all the teasing aimed at Geralt, there’s genuine warmth in his tone.
“Hmm.”
“Oh, come, come, you know you’re my favourite... so, my dear, what am I supposed to do with this? I’m intrigued!”
Geralt recognises the small metal disc engraved with protective symbols the moment it’s placed in his hand.
“An amulet,” he says. “Sew it into a bag or a case and it puts a mild protective charm on what’s inside. Helps keep things safe for travellers.”
And Jaskier does so love his lute. And of course Eskel noticed. It's... good. That he cares. Jaskier deserves care. Which is why Geralt hums and smiles a little as Jaskier trills his delight over his gift and proceeds to sew it into his lute case, tongue sticking out as he sits on their bed, dressed for sleep.
Lambert leaves next. Normally, Geralt would head out with him, keep him company on the descent, but this year he wants to wait a little longer, to make sure the pass is fine for Jaskier to cross.
On the morning of his departure, Lambert pulls Geralt into his room and shoves something into his hand.
“For Jaskier,” he grunts, because he’s never dealt well with being upstaged.
It’s another fucking amulet, of course. This one is to ward off the evil eye or something along those lines. Geralt can’t help but snort.
“Hey, fuck you,” snaps Lambert. “You’re the one always complaining about how many times you had to save his arse from a cuckolded husband! Or other enemies.”
“Yeah, and I always do save it.”
“You’re not always there! And Geralt, he’s so... you know. Breakable,” Lambert says with concern that clearly shows he’s never seen Jaskier kick a burly mercenary in the crotch.
Geralt has. Twice.
“Fine. Give it to him yourself.” He grins, leaning back against a wall, because he never passes up an opportunity to taunt Lambert.
Lambert hisses, which Geralt is going to chalk up to that mysterious Cat he’s been spending time with.
“Would you stop being a dick for five minutes – honestly, I don’t know what he sees in you!”
“Hmm,” says Geralt, because most days he doesn’t know either, and other days he tries not to wonder about it. “Fine, if you’re going to cry about it.”
“Fuck you!”
Geralt grins. “That’s Jaskier’s job.”
Jaskier may claim to be a lover, not a fighter, but Geralt has seen him handle himself in tavern brawls and other fights plenty of times. Still, Jaskier beams and prattles his delight at Lambert’s thoughtfulness and promptly slips the gift in his pocket. Lambert will definitely bribe his way into another song with this, the bastard.
When at last it’s time for Geralt and Jaskier to leave, Vesemir approaches them with a small, worn-out book in his hands, and Geralt uses most of his willpower to keep his eyebrows from climbing up to his hairline.
“With thanks for caring so for our library this winter,” the old man says, handing Jaskier the book. Something shrewd plays in his eyes. “You’ll always be welcome here, Jaskier.”
It’s a book about the uses of forest plants and mushrooms for poisons and antidotes (mostly poisons), and Jaskier’s eyes gleam eagerly at the sight. Vesemir has always been a sharp judge of character. Geralt bites his lip and turns his head away to hide a smile.
Up in the peaks the snow still lies thick, and Geralt makes sure Jaskier’s new winter cloak (a proper cloak, not a flimsy piece of decoration) is secure around him, but this high up, in the clear blue skies, the spring sun smarts hot already, and Jaskier tilts his face to meet it with a laugh. He sings to snowdrops when, a while down, they find them popping up through the snow, and he tells Roach about all the juicy meadows she’ll soon be grazing on.
“Ah, the freedom of the open road again!” he announces, spreading his arms wide in that way he has, like he’s embracing the whole world. “Don’t get me wrong, my dear,” he carries on, taking Geralt’s hand in his, “Kaer Morhen was lovely, and I’m very honoured to have been invited, but it’s nice to be just us two on the road again, is all.”
“Hmm,” says Geralt, because he understands, and because something still flutters in his chest whenever Jaskier expresses his happiness with staying at Kaer Morhen.
“What’s that I hear you say? I was a delight to have and I should come back every winter henceforth? Why, Geralt, you say the sweetest things!”
Jaskier grins at him, beaming in his face, but there’s a touch of performance about it, and Geralt tugs his hand and pulls him into a kiss.
“Yes,” he rumbles against Jaskier’s lips when they part. “That.”
This time, Jaskier’s smile is brighter than the clear skies above them.
The temperature drops as soon as the sun hides behind the peaks they’ve left behind, so they make camp before it’s completely dark. In their tent, shielded from the winds by a pile of snow (and which, in turn, shields Roach as well), they sit close together under blankets. In the light of their oil lamp Jaskier reads, engrossed in his new book of poisons, flicking eagerly through the pages and worryingly scribbling Valdo next to some entries. Despite the piercing cold and rapid variations in humidity, his lute is kept a little safer by Eskel's amulet sewn into its case, and Lambert’s gift stays tucked into his pocket.
It feels right, Geralt thinks, watching the light play soft and warm across Jaskier’s face as he carefully puts the book away. Geralt has his wolf medallion, something that signifies his bond with his brothers wherever he goes. Jaskier may not have one, but with these gifts, he too now has a link to the other Wolves, something to tie him to them until he returns next winter. And he did say he wants to return.
Pleased with the thought, Geralt pulls Jaskier closer and turns out the light.
(also on AO3)
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crowleyellestair · 4 years
Note
Headcanons on how the wolves + Jaskier would react to a s/o who is due for their period soon and thus very testy/wheepy? I have just been an atomic bomb this month and it’s driving me and everyone else nuts 😖
AN// I’m sorry it’s rough right now, I feel you 100% I hope you can relate and feel just a touch better through this by laughing or feeling some fluff
 The thing about the boys at Kaer Morhen is that they weren’t really aware of what was happening. Triss had explained it a winter prior due to Ciri’s first cycle, but that hadn’t meant that they were used to it. Sorceresses don’t have these problems, and that was the type of women they were around most of the time. Close friends were always invited to the keep, and when Y/n was invited, it stirred the castle into territory most people wouldn’t think it would go.
Vesemir was the first to notice, being the soft dad he was
-Being as old and as trained as he his, he could simply tell
-He had been quite the gentleman as a young wolf, and was familiar with what to do in general
-Not wanting to truly treat you differently, he still asked for certain chores to be done, keeping you up and walking, but not having to move too much
-Honey and black tea would be specially made for you in the morning, as well as having your seat warm by the time you came down for breakfast
-He made certain your clothes were washed separately and more frequently, wanting to help you feel as clean as possible. The scent of sweat or musk never helps on that front
-Since he also cooks, as well as take care of laundry, he plates your food before taking the large pots to the table. The others thought it was because you became his favorite, and while that was true, he made sure to add extra ginger as that helps with cramps. He had regrets for not growing fennel this season, but he was glad to know that his ginger stock can help make you feel comfortable
Lambert was the first to experience it
-There were pranks to be had between you two
-While Jaskier can take what has been dished, his revenge pranks were never as funny
-He was the one who wasn’t afraid to be rowdy with you, and he found out the hard way that you weren’t up for it
-The witcher had been stalking you through the rafters, waiting until he could pounce
-Cramps weren’t necessarily terrible when approaching time, but you had stopped to rub your lower stomach for a moment, trying to sooth anything before it started
-That was the cat-wannabe’s time to strike
-He slid down the wall behind you, though close enough to whereas he landed, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and he wrapped his legs around your torso in a piggy-back formation
-You immediately went off, turning and falling against the wall
-He evacuated before he would be smashed and as he rounded to the front of you, smirk plastered on his face, you cuffed him as hard as you could
-The tears didn’t come, but the unnecessary adrenaline mixed with the already foul mood
-“Not today, Lambert, I swear to Melitele.”
-His eyes went wide, and he truly felt bad.
-You had never raised your voice, even after that one time he glued your mug of ale to your hand
-He threw out a quick sorry and practically flew down the hall in the direction you had just come from
Geralt had noticed next
-It had been the smell
-Not that you smell, but with the extra mutations, he could sense something
-It had been a familiar thing with Ciri, but he simply couldn’t place it
-He walked in on it as your room was on the way to his
-You had a plant, one Vesemir entrusted you to grow, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t really important. He just thought you might like a little life in your room. The plant began to wilt however, and leaves started to fall. You were in mourning, resting and crying against the wall
-The White Wolf stepped in to ask if you were ok, not realizing the situation before, but quickly stepped out when the real water works started. You clutched the plant to your chest and wept
-He made a swift and silent exit, trying to not interfere with your grief nor the scent in the air
Eskel, the soft soul, hadn’t noticed anything
-The brunette had either been held up in the library trying to fit his new finds into the shelves or he was with Lil’ Bleater
-You had made contact with him in the area where the goat roamed, fawning over the dear
-He had simply thought you shared the same kind of bond with the animal as he did
-It actually pleased him thoroughly to see it, a small grin plastered on his face
-You even went as far as picking the lil’ guy up and holding him
-He hadn’t noticed it then, but looking back, you were certainly too into it
Jaskier found out through the three younger witchers asking
-“You’re fully human, so what’s happening?”
-“What do you mean?” The three other men sitting him down in the main hall’s table. Lambert looked hurt and uncomfortable, and in the smallest voice any of them had ever heard from him, he said,
-“She yelled at me.” Geralt nodded, also noting the difference in behavior
-“Her smell is different. Not bad, just off. I also found her with a plant, crying.” His tone was rough and almost angry, upset with himself for not knowing what was going on, nor knowing how to fix it
-“Now thinking about it, she did seem aggressive in her coddling with Lil’ Bleater.” Eskel’s hand flew to his scarred cheek, a habit he developed whenever he thought something was very wrong
-It took the bard a moment to think of ideas, but the realization still came quickly
-He felt confident in his knowledge, though he had certainly been lucky in his life, never really being in contact with the disastrous side of a period
-Being dramatic, but also very out of his depth in this area, he told the men to leave it to him
-He shouldn’t have
-Jaskier ended up on his ass for trying to give you a massage and for making a mess of your bed by putting frozen wildflower petals over it
-Vesemir stepped in finally, overhearing the conversation, and explained that it wasn’t a voluntary thing. That Geralt could sense the intense shift in hormones, and you were lashing out, but not because you wanted to. He, being logical and a great dad, exaggerated how much you didn’t mean it, and how you most likely felt bad. Subtlety was needed for the situation, and no one needed a grand gesture. It was simply another week in the life of someone with ovaries, and you shouldn’t be treated too differently than usual, simply with a little more care.
The boys understood, but still felt bad for whatever reason. Jaskier was the first to think of a discrete apology, realizing a surprise massage was definitely not the way to go about it. He had come up to you late the same night, a hot rock wrapped in the nicest towel he could find, in hand. His same bubbly atmosphere stayed with him as he gently handed it to you. There wasn’t an actual conversation between the two of you, but he explained somewhat,
“I’ve heard that heated pads where better than massages anyways.” He knew that when he received a soft smile that it was okay.
Eskel was the next to think of something you might appreciate. He had a favorite book, despite reading many titles over his time. Embarrassingly enough, it was a smaller romance novella about a noble woman falling in love with a dwarf that worked in her families mine. You didn’t need to know it was his favorite, but he left it in your spot as an offering, knowing how he becomes so wrapped up in the book that he looses a sense of reality while reading it. He simply wanted you to lose yourself or whatever you felt, even just for a moment.
Geralt had become spoiled on his travels with Jaskier and Ciri. He fell in love with chamomile oil and honey exfoliation soap. The scent wasn’t overbearing, and the small grains in it from the oat really made one feel clean. There was a bathing order for everyone, his lining up right before yours. Geralt had extra bars, leaving one for you one night. It was like the others, just with a hint of orange zest. He knew you wouldn’t smell or sense what he could, and again, it wasn’t bad, but he knew how you appreciated feeling clean before this.
Lambert was the last to think of something. This had been traumatic for him, the young witcher taking a liking to you more than he had with someone since Aiden. He never thought he had to apologize for anything, nor has he ever had to come up with something to make someone more comfortable. Of course, he knew he didn’t have to, but he truly cared, and wanted to do something nice. And that came in the form of fur a week after the boys’ realization.
He was always freezing, and always wrapped in fur blankets. He had made sure he had the best furs, scratchy furs being uncomfortable. His favorite was a black and grey wolf pelt he had taken from this overly large wolf he found in the Skellege mountains. No matter where he dragged it, how many times he washed it, or overused it, it continued to be the softest thing he’s felt. Lambert would be spotted frequently at night being wrapped in said fur as he would pad down to use the bathroom. The fur had been cleaned and placed on your bed one night, though when you ventured to his room to ask about it, he was hidden. He was watching of course, and only relaxed when he watched you shrug and wrap the blanket around your shoulders. They all wanted your pain to leave as you mattered to them. They all wanted you safe and secure, but none of you can help it. They all swore they would try their damndest to make you comfortable in caring ways
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kate-river · 3 years
Text
Of Dragonids and Witchers
In which two Wolf school witchers set out for a monster hunt and finally come to terms with their difficult emotional past.
Dear @ohciq this is your secret santa speaking :) I wish you very happy holidays and I hope this adds a few drops of water to your crops! ;)
Thanks @thewitchersecretsanta for hosting this amazing event!
Warnings: none
read on AO3
Geralt smelled the shabby village miles away. Humans, no matter the space they had on offer, created the stench with their infallible ability to destroy their surroundings. Over time Geralt got into the habit of avoiding such places as they were usually tied to all sorts of trouble. And it seemed like this place was no exception  
Suddenly the tracks he had been following came to an end. Geralt sighed and reigned in Roach. He had expected this to happen and still it irritated him. What the fuck was that bloody idiot up to?
Pondering his options Geralt looked around. To his left, just out of the thicket, a narrow uneven trail headed for the village. To his right, it vanished into a light forest. “Great,” the witcher mumbled. It was impossible to further track the soft hoof prints on the stony ground. But he already knew which way to go.
Still, he hesitated for a moment. Why would he hide in such a place? What had kept him from covering his tracks? Something was very fishy and Geralt didn’t like it.
Anyways, he spurred on Roach. Passing a few outcast buildings, an old decrepit barn and a small herbalist’s cottage along the way Geralt made for the village. It wasn’t a big settlement: a few wooden houses, the alderman’s clearly distinguished from the others. And of course, there was an inn. The modest horse shelter in front of it caught Geralt’s attention. A fine black horse was contentedly feeding on hay there and the witcher immediately recognized the Kaedweni bred steed.
He stopped in front of the inn and tied Roach to the shelter. The other horse, clearly trained to avoid a stranger’s touch, did not twitch under Geralt’s caress. Instead he snorted and nudged Geralt’s torso. The witcher couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “It’s good to see you, Scorpion” he whispered and pulled a sugar cube out of his pocket. Roach jealously stomped her front hoof and Geralt turned to treat her just as well. Then he headed for the inn’s entrance.
The main room was pretty dark, only a few tables fitting into the space. Some drunkards were assembled around one of them and from their babbling Geralt gathered that they must have spent a fair amount of time in that inn today.
It took them a few moments to become aware of Geralt, but when they did, their noisy chatter fell silent. The innkeeper however was not impressed by the witcher’s presence. At least he didn’t let it show “Good day to you sir”, he greeted Geralt “What can my humble establishment do for yet another one of your kind?” “Another one?” Geralt asked curiously and the innkeeper nodded towards the corner on his right. A dark figure, covered in a long dirty cloak sat separately at a small table, two long and thin packages lying next to him. Geralt smiled and the innkeeper’s façade started to crumble at this sight.
In the same instant the dark figure got up and pushed back the hood. A face, disfigured yet cordially smiling, appeared underneath. Eskel.
“Glad to see you, Wolf!“ The other witcher hugged Geralt tightly. The embrace was short, brotherly, but like music, there was more to it. It was I missed you just as well as good to have you back. And it lasted a few seconds too long adding an unspoken feeling that lingered between them.
They sat down at the small table in the shady corner and started a casual conversation. After a proper meal their merry chatter grew more serious and finally Geralt asked Eskel what he was actually doing here. Geralt carefully withheld the fact that he had tracked him. Very easily at that. In fact, so easily that Geralt had initially suspected a serious issue, since Eskel had obviously paid no attention to covering his tracks.
“Had a pretty nasty contract down in Lyria. Thought I’d better head for Kaedwen early this year. Also, this fucking weather…” he nodded toward the dirty window and suddenly went silent.
Immediately sensing Eskel’s discomfort Geralt changed the topic. It was no use asking a witcher about things he had encountered on the Path and was not yet willing to talk about. Whatever happened to him sure had been unpleasant but apparently Eskel was out of danger and Geralt decided not to inquire any further.
They slowly found their way back to less serious topics, finally joking about old stories and anecdotes. By then the atmosphere of the inn had somewhat changed. The drunkards had left and only the innkeeper remained behind the bar. While he had appeared rather brave at Geralt’s arrival, he didn’t look anything like it by now. He was frantically cleaning tankards and seemed visibly distressed.
Eskel had already caught on to it and in an instant changed the way he talked to Geralt. “I guess we have a job for Vesemir here” he muttered. It took Geralt a few seconds to understand the code phrase as he hadn’t heard it in quite some time. Focusing on his sharpened senses he also became aware of the light footsteps quickly approaching the inn. “I guess we’ll have a visitor soon”, he growled.
Suddenly the innkeeper vanished into the backroom. The witchers perceived a knock on a wooden door, the timid opening of the same and muffled voices. The man who had approached the inn tried to reach the bar. But the innkeeper didn’t let him through, insistently whispering. “She was my daughter!”, the intruder shouted at him. Eventually the innkeeper lost his patience: “Mihal, you won’t bring her back to life!” “Out of my way, old man!”
Next, they heard a thud and a stubby man with a red face burst into the room. He came running to the witchers and Eskel already raised his hand to cast a sign as the man threw himself to the ground.
“Master witchers, I need your help” he cried desperately and Eskel immediately lowered his hand. “Then speak!” Geralt commanded, adding a bit more emphasis to it than intended.
“There is a monster in the mountains! A flying dragon! It haunts our village and a week ago,” he started sobbing uncontrollably, “it killed my daughter! Please, I will pay you with all I have left. But bring justice to my little girl!”
While the man was regaining his self-control, the innkeeper returned to his place behind the bar. He was pressing a wet cloth to his head and an endless stream of curses left his mouth. “That bloody witch! The wench summoned the demon! We should have burned her!”
“I’ve heard enough” Geralt spat out and shot the innkeeper an irritated glance. He fell silent immediately. “But he’s telling the truth master witcher!”, the red-faced man interfered. By now he was on his feet again, but silent tears were still running over his cheeks. “The damn wench cursed us! She lured the monster into our village! There was a dead sheep and some smelly grasses.”
Eskel shot Geralt a glace. A dead sheep stuffed with buckthorn? The ideal bait for a griffin! Whatever was going on here, somebody really meant to attract a monster!
“Are there still any traces of the bait left?”, Eskel asked calmly. The innkeeper nodded and answered grimly. “The beast turned its back on it as it saw Mihal’s daughter hiding underneath the shack nearby. The minute Mihal ran to her rescue the beast grabbed her with its huge claws and tore her apart. I beg you, please kill that monster for us.”
Still fighting his tears Mihal added: “The attack happened at the old barn on the trail that comes in from the south.”
“I think I know where it is”, Geralt muttered. He got up, Eskel following a moment later. “We will check the area. Meanwhile stay indoors if possible!”
When they rode through the darkness next to each other a familiar feeling welled up in Geralt’s heart. It reminded him of the stolen nights they had spent in the forests of Kaer Morhen, their first attempt to try their newly acquired abilities. It also painfully reminded him of when they had overcome the fear of punishment for walking the Path together. The time they spent in each other’s arms becoming the greatest liability in their lives so far. Eventually the light feeling changed into something heavy and Geralt tried to stop his reverie.
“What’s going on Geralt?” Eskel asked. He was comfortably sitting on Scorpion’s back and seemed lost in his own thoughts. “Did they teach you mindreading at Ban Ard?”, Geralt replied half smiling, trying hard not to let show even more of the things that came to his mind. “Unfortunately, not”, Eskel laughed, “but I still know you well.”
You bloody well do Geralt thought, but he didn’t reply. The bond they had regained over the past few winters was too precious to be tested on silly thoughts.
Eventually they arrived at the barn. The grass around it was grown high and it seemed like the decrepit building hadn’t been in use for years. A crooked sign hung in front of it saying “Do not enter” in the common language.
They examined the surroundings in the pale moonlight, and within a short time they came upon the odour trail of the monster bait. They found some of the remains of a herb stuffed sheep in the thicket nearby and it was pretty clear that the bait had been torn apart by gigantic claws. The sheep had indeed been stuffed with Buckthorn, but there was another herb too. Eskel fished some off it from a tree and identified it as beggartick blossoms. It was a rare herb, and it was usually used to refine fisstech. A strange choice to put into a bait, as it was far more use to the owner when sold to some shady individual for a good price.
“What do you think, Geralt? Beggartick is a weird choice for a bait! Something’s wrong here...”
“Guess we have to have a word with the herbalist. And we should examine the body if they haven’t buried it yet.” The body of a child - disfigured by a dragonid.
“I can take care of the examination”, Eskel said softly. Geralt nodded and was silently thankful that Eskel spared him the horrible sight of a child that could have just as well died from a Witcher’s trial.
After a short discussion they separated and Eskel rode back into the village to find Mihal and his daughter’s corpse. Geralt instead stayed at the abandoned barn and started a search for beggartick in a more extensive radius. One hour after sunrise he admitted defeat and carried on to the more important task that he was responsible for. On Roach’s back he returned to the stony trail that ultimately lead to the village and stopped in front of the herbalist’s cottage.
There was a small garden around it, no curious herbs, but practical ones like fool’s parsley, ribleaf and celandine. Geralt dismounted and knocked at the shuttered door. At first there was no reply but as he knocked a second time a woman answered. “What the hell do you want? Leave me be!”, she frantically shouted.
It took Geralt some time to convince her to let him in, but finally the herbalist opened the door. As he started his inquiries on the buckthorn, she grew impatient, irritated even and tried hard to avoid the topic. But Geralt kept pushing and finally she admitted having stuffed a dead sheep with buckthorn from a nearby lake. It was intended to scare the local folk as they had accused her of witchcraft when she had started a fight with a band of fisstech dealers. She finally wanted to scare them, force them to show some respect. And then it all went awfully wrong. What she had thought to be an old wives’ tale was truly a powerful means to attract monsters. The incident with the small girl was neither planned nor foreseen. Mihal’s daughter had been playing not far from the place where the herbalist had put up the sheep and suddenly a dragon had aimed at the bait. But as it had made out the girl, it had chased her instead and killed her in an instant.
“And you’re sure it was a dragon?” Geralt asked. The herbalist gave a long but vague answer and Geralt made a mental note to discuss the possible dragonids in the area with Eskel.
When she finished the description of the monster, she added some useful information though. She had seen where the monster had come from and returned to – the mountains north of the village – and by her description Geralt was sure to find the monster’s lair there.
“And what about the Beggartick?”, Geralt reminded her after she had finished her story. She sighed and said “You see, I was really tired of this shit. All those people, they come to me for help, for, I don’t know, a magic cure, and in the same breath they call me a witch for all the things they don’t understand. Jacub’s gang is spreading rumors and now half the village would burn me if the chance arises. I simply became furious and saw my chance for revenge!”
Geralt left the herbalist after she had finally admitted the unintended murder of the girl. There was not much to say about her situation and Geralt wondered if leaving the village would change it for the better.
Eskel was already waiting for him at the inn and updated him on his finding about the corpse. In fact there was nothing new about it. Big claws, a bird’s beak and a preference for internal organs were not much to go on.
The witchers finally decided to follow the herbalist’s advice and set out for the mountains. They stuck to the path leading north and by the end of the day they had climbed a rugged hill. Beneath the shoulder of a rock they found a good spot to make camp and they decided to give both the horses and themselves a rest. For some time, they indulged in food and conversation and eagerly discussed their speculations about the monster.
When the night grew colder and the fire between them turned into an appreciated source of heat Eskel pulled out a bottle from his saddlebag. It was a fine distillate of White Gull and Geralt anticipated there was another long night ahead of them.
-----------------------
By now they were far from the amount of hooch a human could manage. Their pupils were blown wide and they relied upon their joint forces should the wilderness around them turn hostile.
“Seriously, were did you get this?” Geralt asked and raised the bottle he was holding. An appreciative gesture that made Eskel laugh.
“Won’t tell you Wolf”, he answered mysteriously and fondly looked at Geralt.
He in turn smiled mischievously and lent back against the rock. Maybe Geralt would come back on this later, there must be a good story behind it. But talking of a good story…
“Well, what about your route then? Came across your track. Twice. You’re not trying to cover it up these days?” Geralt said, a teasing smile still on his lips.
Eskel hiccupped silently. It was hard to tell where the melancholic look on his face suddenly came from. Up next, he sighed and gently rubbed his scar. “Stop this, Geralt.”
Even though Geralt didn’t get to the bottom of it, he again felt Eskel’s displeasure. There was no way around it and suddenly it took up the room between them.
“I don’t understand…”
“I see.” Eskel deadpanned and took another gulp from the bottle. Then he went silent. After some time, he stared up into the starry sky. “What do you think the Path would be like if there were different rules?”
“Well, wouldn’t make it any easier, would it?”, Geralt slurred. Through his blurred vision he tried to observe Eskel. His dark hair, the amber eyes, that damn old scar.
“What’s this all about, huh?”
Suddenly irritated, Eskel got up. His movement seemed a little too fast for his current state and his unsteady footing additionally attested to that.  
“Sorry Geralt, but this”, he vaguely gestured back and forth between Geralt and the empty bottles that had started to pile up “is giving me a headache. Good night.” His smile looked crooked and Geralt was reminded of the several times Eskel had overindulged.
When he made it to his bedroll a few minutes later, the awkward smile would not leave him though. In his dreams it turned into an evil grin, a mocking laugh, scorning the warm little feeling that had crept into his heart again this evening.
---------------------
“Geralt?”
An ungloved hand touched Geralt’s shoulder. The touch was accompanied by a soft tingle and the scent of petrichor and leather. This stilled the white haired witcher’s immediate reaction, as he concluded that the hand did not belong to an enemy.
Geralt growled as he sat up and was pretty astonished to see a well-rested, even cheerful Eskel finishing the preparations for a sparse breakfast. Suddenly the warm feeling from yesterday evening returned.
Eskel laughed, cordially and kind this time, and handed him a mug. It contained some kind of herbal tea.
“Didn’t expect that, huh?” he smiled.
Geralt tried to smile back, but yesterday’s white gull still made him hurt. With a questioning look he muttered: “How did you…?”
Taking advantage of Geralt’s confusion Eskel put on his lecturer face and cited: “When there is the risk of intoxication, the witcher has to retreat for meditation.”
“Seriously, in your state?”, Geralt laughed in disbelief.
“Just drink your tea, Wolf!”, Eskel replied softly and started to dismantle their little camp. It was not until Geralt’s headache had ceased that he realized that Eskel must have put something into the tea.
“You bastard, it’s Wives’ Tears, right?” “Let’s rather stick to the meditation story”, Eskel grinned and mounted his horse.
They set out for the high plateau that reared up in the distance. Whatever dragonid was waiting for them it would certainly have its lair in great heights. But great heights came with difficult paths and after hours of traveling Eskel and Geralt eventually decided to leave behind Roach and Scorpion.
Not long after they had dismounted, Geralt discovered a piece of sheepskin in the bushes. It strongly smelled of buckthorn, but as it had been a week since the dragonid incident there was no scent left in the air to track. Still, both Geralt and Eskel grew tense. They were closing in on the monster.
They continued their ascent and finally reached a small trail that lead up to the plateau. By then they walked in silence - alert and ready to fight. Geralt didn’t like the way they approached the monster. The dragonid would most likely attack from above and additionally their lack of knowledge about its hiding place put them at a disadvantage. But that was a witcher’s everyday business, right?
Suddenly Eskel signaled Geralt to stop. He dodged and pressed against the stone wall. Geralt immediately mimicked his movements.
Above them a gigantic griffin raised itself into the air. Its wide-spread wings shimmered red and blue and the gigantic claws on both wings and feet flashed in the daylight.  
Eskel spat some dwarfish curses and the witchers made for the last few steps on the trail. The griffin turned in midair and aimed for them. Eskel only just reached the plateau as the monstrous beast dived over them. It didn’t attack, the dive was simply intended as a warning.
“Damn it”, Geralt cursed and drew his silver sword. How were they supposed to kill such a majestic creature? For a split second he locked eyes with Eskel.
Are you ready?
As the griffin returned Eskel certainly was. He struck it with a blow of Aard and the griffin tumbled to the ground. Geralt lunged at it and dealt a blow to its wing. The griffin reared up and Geralt could jump back just in time. As the griffin took off it tried to grab Eskel who parried the attack with a furious blast of Igni. The immense creature emitted an ear-piercing cry as it withdrew into the sky.
Eskel cursed again but he underestimated the griffin. Instead of fleeing, it turned around and dived down toward the plateau. This time focusing on Eskel only.
Something in Geralt’s brain snapped and he took a leap forward. He barely managed to shove the other witcher aside. In a split second he had to combine this protective move with the Aard sign. Geralt’s magic wasn’t as powerful as Eskel’s but it was enough to knock the griffin off its balance.
Don’t you dare.
Suddenly furious, he turned on the griffin. His movements were fast and flawless, accurate and cold. Pirouetting away under the griffin’s assaults he managed to injure it on a delicate spot just beneath its collarbone.
But then there was a single movement that slipped Geralt’s attention. The griffin tried to strike him with its right wing and when Geralt launched into a counterattack, the griffin started to take flight and grabbed him.
Geralt’s cry mingled with the griffin’s screams as Eskel pierced the beast’s left wing with his sword. The griffin let go of Geralt and turned on Eskel again. It screeched at him and Eskel ruthlessly smashed an Ard sign against it. This time it knocked over the beast and Eskel didn’t waste a second. He darted at the griffin and before it was able to move again, he thrust the silver sword into its heart.
Panting heavily, he jumped off the dead body and ran towards Geralt. The white wolf lay on the ground, hunched over, his face contorted in pain. A long bloody gash gaped over his stomach.
Eskel fell on his knees and in a first impulse he pressed his hands against the ferocious wound. At the touch Geralt screamed in pain. From then on, Eskel couldn’t remember the chronological order of events. At some point he realized that his hands were aching as he had conducted healing magic for Melitele knows how long. Next to him lay an empty vial of Swallow - some of its contents were poured over the wound and the rest of it had hopefully found its way down Geralt’s throat.
As the bleeding ceased, Eskel carefully tried to take off the pieces of armour and clothing that still covered it and he skillfully managed a makeshift dressing of the wound.
Geralt made a few muffled noises, but his heartbeat had become steady again. “Hey Wolf, can you hear me?”, Eskel asked softly. Geralt grunted and Eskel went on, “I have to get the horses – you’ll need stitches when the magic wears off and I don’t have any equipment here.”
“Hold on to me!”, Eskel continued and ever so carefully lifted the other witcher, not actually relying on Geralt’s cooperation. He laid him down under the shelter of a small rock and tried to make him comfortable with his cloak. Then Eskel bent over him and slipped his last vial of Swallow into his hands. “I’ll be right back. Stay safe, Wolf”, he whispered and turned around before Geralt could see how worried he actually was.
Searching the horses took Eskel longer than expected and when he finally managed to force Scorpion and Roach up the uneven trail, it was already getting dark. He was instantly back at Geralt’s side and sighed in relief as he realized that nothing had happened in his absence.
After Eskel had unpacked their bedrolls and prepared a small fire, he fished out his equipment from Scorpion’s saddlebags and got ready to tend to Geralt’s wound properly. He worked in silence, expert and precise, but the memories that were tied to patching Geralt up tormented him. When he finally finished, he saw that Geralt’s witcher medallion was twisted around and reached over to set it right again.
Then he saw the plain stone framed on the reverse of the medallion. It showed a hastily carved rune of Quen. Eskel remembered it all too well. He had crafted it for Geralt as some kind of protection for his first year on the Path. The older witchers had punished him for “excessive attachment” to somebody else, but the stone still remained. Eskel did not know that Geralt had kept it all along the way through everything that had happened to them.
“You kept it after all those years?”, he stammered, trying hard not to show any of the feelings he had buried deep inside, ever since their emotional attachment had turned into a problem.  
“Always”, Geralt said slowly and reached for Eskel’s hand.
The two witcher had never been good with words and so Eskel just cherished the moment. Not long afterwards Geralt fell asleep and Eskel eventually decided to rest a bit too.
He would not let go of Geralt’s hand though. Instead he knelt down next to him and sunk into a light meditation. When Vesemir had taught them how to meditate they had also started like this – with touch as their only focus.
It was still dark when Eskel opened his eyes again. The fire had nearly burned down and Eskel added some more wood to it. In the meantime, Geralt turned and made an uneasy sound.
“Are you awake, Geralt?”
Geralt only groaned, but he already tried to sit up as well as possible.
“You asked me why I didn’t cover my tracks…”, Eskel took a deep breath. Somehow the words came to him and he knew if he didn’t say them right now, he probably never would. “I missed you. Badly. There were rumours you were in Daevon, so I rode up to Kaedwen hoping to catch up with you. There was a day where I felt like I had crossed your path and from there I stopped covering my tracks. I was hoping you’d find me. Well, you eventually did. But then some foglets came first and followed me for days. It was constantly raining and I didn’t want to fight them until I knew how many of them there were. But they ambushed me and I ended up in that damn village. I am glad you found me, Geralt. I just missed you so much.”
Carefully he squeezed Geralt’s hand. Geralt reciprocated and suddenly he softly pulled Eskel closer.
“You damn fool”, he said slowly. “I missed you too, you know?” Then he pressed a chaste kiss on Eskel’s lips.
The soft touch was neither a confession nor a vow. It felt like a permission – a permission to explore unspoken feelings and experience closeness in a new way. And that was it. Plain and simple.
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