#geraskier big bang 2021
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me lámh le do lámh - Part I
Ahh I can’t believe it’s finally done! After a year of working on this beast, it’s finally ready for me to share. This is something I started way back last summer, and I decided to finish it as my project for this year’s @geraskierbigbang. It will be ten parts in total, and I will post one part per day until it is complete! There are several art pieces that were created by the wonderful @herostag and Miranda.draws for this story, which I will link when the appropriate section is posted. For a summary and further links, please see the masterpost.
Next | Ao3 | Masterpost
“Alright,” Geralt said. “Don’t laugh at me.”
Yennefer looked up at him with bright eyes, curious and already mirthful. She was sitting across from him in his quarters, reading through a tome she’d found in Kaer Morhen’s disheveled library. Geralt had just come from a bath after hours spent training Ciri in the yard, and the room was filled with the warm evening light, supplemented by the fire crackling in the hearth. Yennefer had insisted on carting dozens of tapestries and drapes to hang around the drafty keep, and the room was nearly stuffy with their bulk keeping the heat in.
Yennefer gave him an amused smirk. “I will make no such promises before I even know what you’re going to say.” The gentle teasing brought a fond smile to Geralt’s face. After the events of the mountain all those years ago, things had been understandably tense. Yennefer had been reluctant to join them when she had finally met up with Geralt after Sodden, but had eventually agreed to seek refuge in the witchers’ keep and teach Ciri to control her magic. Once she’d met the girl it had all been a wash; it was clear as soon as their eyes met across the room that Yennefer was as much a part of Ciri’s destiny as Geralt was.
Geralt had expected that to either mend the rift between them enough for things to go back to the way things were, or make things even more awkward. Instead, they found themselves in a sort of in-between. Over the years his affection for Yennefer had only grown, but he found himself looking to her more and more as a friend—maybe his best friend. After Jaskier, of course.
Speaking of. “I was thinking about Jaskier.”
Yennefer rolled her eyes obviously. “As you are so frequently wont to do. The thaw will come soon enough, dear, and you can run off in search of your bard.”
Geralt felt his ears grow warm. Witchers couldn’t blush, not truly, but he still felt the tingle of it as he fidgeted with embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, absently tracing a finger against the grain of the wooden table. There were two goblets of wine sitting between them, but so far neither of them had begun to drink. “Do you know how many winters it’s been since I found Ciri?”
If she was confused by the odd turn in subject matter, Yennefer didn’t show it. Instead she looked thoughtful. “Two, perhaps three? You know I don’t follow the seasons with diligence.”
“Neither do I,” Geralt agreed. “I was thinking the same though, two or three years since the fall of Cintra. Which means Jaskier is…” He paused, trying to do the math. “He was a few years past forty, during the dragon hunt, I think. He must be closer to fifty now than not.”
Yennefer raised an eyebrow at him. “I recall mentioning something about his crows feet. What of it? Humans age. Are you only just discovering this?”
Geralt forced himself not to grumble. In a way, he was only discovering it. He’d known humans across the years, of course, and knew that many that he’d once been acquainted with were no longer alive or were in their twilight years. For decades Geralt had wandered through the world, changing no more than a ghost would, touching the lives of regular mortals for a brief instance, maybe a few times if they were particularly unlucky. No one had stayed by his side, dedicated themselves to a relationship with him, the way that the bard had. The amount of devotion that Jaskier showed to him had made Geralt antsy, in earlier years, and then confused and angry by turn. He had hated the idea of someone needing him, had hated needing someone in return. The way his chest felt heavy when he and Jaskier parted ways had left him furious with himself and the bard.
And then Ciri came into his life, and everything had changed so quickly.
With Ciri, it didn’t matter whether Geralt felt like he should care for her, or if he wanted to. He needed to. Without him, the girl would die, or be kidnapped by Nilfgaard for who knows what purpose. He had to feed her, and clothe her, and teach her, and he had to love her for her to thrive.
She made it very easy. It was only afterwards that he realized how much of an idiot he’d been to Jaskier, and the thought of how he’d treated the bard over the years had plagued him. It had been months before he could find him to apologize, but Jaskier forgave him almost immediately—which Geralt found both relieving and infuriating at the same time. This was the first winter they’d spent apart since. Geralt left the keep more rarely now, heading out on the Path only when the months grew truly warm and returning at the first hint of falling leaves. Ciri was safe on her own, he knew, but he missed her when he was away. And he could admit now that one of the forces driving him back into the world over the last few years had been the itching desire to find Jaskier again and settle the yearning in his chest for another year. He was less inclined to venture forth when his bard, his daughter, Yennefer and his brothers were all in one place.
This winter Jaskier had begged off, saying that he had “work in the south,” which could mean anything from spending a decadent winter in the court of some noble or sludging through the front lines as a Redanian spy. Geralt had learned not to pry too deeply into Jaskier’s business when he wasn’t around. It was often either too explicit for him to stomach or too confidential for Jaskier to share freely.
It worried him, being away from the bard for so long. He could get hurt, or captured by Nilfgaard, or worse. But what really terrified Geralt was the idea that he would find Jaskier in a tavern along the Path and realize that the bard had grown old, to find silver in his hair and wrinkles beside his eyes. “He’s getting too old,” Geralt said to Yennefer, who looked at him with sympathetic eyes.
“You must have known when you started travelling with him that he would eventually leave you,” Yennefer said, not unkindly. “Humans are so short lived.”
“I didn’t exactly get a choice about becoming his muse,” Geralt said with a huff. Despite his improved relationship with Jaskier over the past few years, he still found it difficult to admit that he had always been more than willing to let the bard tag along. If he’d wanted to travel alone, he would have. But he never had. “I just didn’t realize…”
“It always comes sooner than you think it will,” Yennefer sighed. She set her book aside and picked up her goblet of wine, turning to look out the large window their table sat in front of. It faced west out of the keep wall, towards the mountains and the forest beyond. The sun had set below the craggy peaks, throwing the snow covered valley below into darkness. Geralt could just make out the ruins of the old tower, its stones dark against the white landscape. “You can’t cure his mortality, Geralt.”
“We did.”
The look that Yennefer gave him was sharp, almost angry. The firelight in the room turned her violet eyes darker, like mulberry wine. “At great cost,” she snapped. “I can’t imagine you would put him through the Trials.”
A stab of panic shot through his gut at the thought. “No. Of course not. He wouldn’t survive it anyways. Only children stand a chance at all.”
Yennefer nodded, apparently satisfied that Geralt hadn’t completely lost his mind. “The boy hasn’t got an ounce of Chaos in him, in spite of his rather chaotic nature, so I highly doubt they’ll accept him as a late trainee at Ban Ard.”
“There must be other ways,” Geralt said, feeling petulant. “Less conventional.”
“I cannot believe we are actually discussing this,” Yennefer said, rising to her feet. She picked up her book from the table as well as her glass. “There is no way to achieve immortality, especially not without sacrifice. You know that, Geralt. Drop this foolish line of thought.”
Geralt rose after her, reaching out to catch her retreating wrist. A grasp loose enough that she could break it, if she wanted, but Yennefer paused. “Please, Yen. Just… look into it for me? I can’t—the thought of—” He cut himself off, dropping his hand away from her arm. The look she gave him was more pitying than he would have liked.
“I’ll do some research, but nothing more. Don’t get your hopes up, Geralt. There’s a reason there are so few of us,” she said. Her face softened slightly, as much as it ever did. Despite Ciri, Yennefer was still made of more glass and fire than anything else. “I know you love him, even if you can’t admit it to yourself. I promise, I will do my best.”
Geralt nodded wordlessly as she left and wondered if Jaskier's eyes would be as bright next time he saw him.
*
For weeks Yennefer said nothing about his request, and Geralt refocused on spending time with Ciri and preparing to depart for the spring. Lambert and Eskel had already left a month before, as soon as the road down the mountain began to thaw, but Geralt had hung back. The roof needed repairs, a difficult job to do in the midst of winter, and it was a hard task to leave for Vesemir alone. It was always like this, now—him looking for odd jobs to keep him at Kaer Morhen, with Ciri, making excuses until Jaskier’s jitteriness or Vesemir’s raised eyebrows forced them on the road again. Some of that was mitigated this season by the silence he heard when he found himself listening for the sounds of lute strings strumming gently in the background, and Geralt’s increasing anxiety about Jaskier’s wellbeing. Even so, it was hard to leave Ciri behind.
The girl was progressing rapidly as she entered her teen years, the chubbiness of her youth morphing into lean if awkward muscle as she continued to work on her swordsmanship. When Geralt and his brothers weren’t pushing her through drills, she was studying monsters and alchemy with Vesemir, or practicing her magic with Yen. She never seemed to tire, eagerly absorbing any lessons passed on to her and desperate to prove her worth. The only person she seemed to let her guard down around was Geralt, who found himself often goading her into mock wrestling matches (which he refused to throw on principle) and humoring her when she became restless and wanted to explore beyond the keep. Kaer Morhen was dangerous in the winter, but as spring approached and the deep snows on the surrounding mountains began to thaw, the duo spent more and more time trekking through old ruins and sleeping beneath the stars.
He could put off his journey south no longer.
“I’m going to be fine, Geralt,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He wondered if he’d been this petulant as a teenager. Certainly Lambert had. “I can take care of myself, and Yen will be with me.”
Geralt tapped her wooden training sword with his own, indicating that she should prepare to go again. When he was a boy he’d trained against the other foundlings, stumbling around like pups through drills and sparring matches. Ciri trained against full witchers, and only Eskel ever faked a misstep here or there to allow her to get in a good hit. When she won a fight for the first time, it would be on her own merit.
The girl raised her sword into a decent fighting stance, and Geralt moved to correct her footwork. Her sword work was exceptional above the belt, but she consistently forgot her stances, throwing herself off balance. They’d begun putting her on the pendulums to force her to focus, dancing between posts to attack the dummies. Geralt had spent many a night rubbing salve into her bruised shoulders, gained from taking fall after fall from the low poles. No one forced her, but if there was one thing Ciri hated, it was admitting to weakness in herself. “Sword up,” Geralt said, and launched into his attack.
He stayed on the offense, forcing her to practice the defensive drills they’d started going over recently. “I know you’ll be fine,” he said, continuing their conversation. His breathing was relaxed, almost meditative through the slow exchange of blows. “Just seems cruel to leave you with only the old man and Yennefer for company.”
Ciri giggled despite herself, and Geralt found himself grinning back before he smacked her lightly in the ribs with the training sword. She swore—Lambert, Geralt thought with chagrin—and danced back a few paces. “Gotta focus,” he said, still smirking at her.
She poked her tongue out at him childishly and reposted off of one of his blocked attacks. He easily swayed out of the way, but the movement was fluid and smooth, which meant someday it would be fast, faster than he could dodge. He gave an encouraging nod.
They continued to spar for another half an hour or so before breaking, heading to the well to fill their water pouches. Geralt sat on the short ring of stones and Ciri slumped on the ground beside him, leaning against his leg. The simple trust and familiarity she exhibited around him still took him by surprise, sometimes. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said, rubbing a hand over the top of her head. Her hair was almost as white as his.
She sighed, wiping dripping water from her chin as she tossed her water pouch down. “I figured,” she said. “Say hello to Jaskier for me, when you find him? I missed his songs this time.”
Geralt’s caress turned into a playful ruffle. “I will. Any requests for books?”
“Ones about Elves,” she said immediately, “and Skelligan alchemy. It’s different from ours, did you know? The Druids—”
Geralt chuckled. “I know. You’ve said half a dozen times. No fairytales this time?”
The girl hummed, reminding him for a brief and touching moment of himself. “Just bring Jaskier back. He tells about your adventures so much better than you do.”
“He’s certainly made a career out of it,” Geralt grumbled, feigning annoyance. “I’ll do my best. You know how he is.”
“You missed him too,” she said, hitting his knee with one closed fist. “I know you did. You get all…Well, more grumbly and mopey than usual, when he’s not around.” She wrinkled her nose up at him in exaggerated disgust. “It’s gross. But I do want you to be happy.”
Geralt knocked back against her gently with his knee, swallowing around the feelings that rose in his throat. “You just think I’m a boring old man who won’t help you put toads in Eskel’s bed. But you never even ask. I’m the expert, not Jaskier.”
Ciri laughed, bright and crisp in the morning air, and Geralt felt warm despite the fading winter chill. Tomorrow he would leave, and he would find Jaskier, and next winter he would tell Jaskier that he had to stay at Kaer Morhen. For Ciri, if nothing else. And if it was more for Geralt’s sake than anything, well, no one had to know.
*
Yennefer found him before he left, saddling Roach in the stables.
“Go to Triss,” she said by way of a greeting. Geralt knew what she meant by the gravity in her tone and the tension sitting in the corners of her mouth. “Ask after Ida. I don’t know where she is or if she’ll speak with you, but a Sage is the only one that might be able to give you anything.”
Geralt reached out to grasp her hand firmly in his own. “Thank you, Yen,” he said honestly.
The sorceress sniffed. “Well, you owe me one, I suppose. I hope you find what you're looking for. But be careful.”
“I won’t do anything that might put him in harm’s way,” he promised. “I swear it.”
“Good.” She gave him a slight smile before leaning in to brush a kiss over his rough cheek. The simple touch warmed him from inside out. “Say hello to the bard for me. Tell him I heard about that disastrous competition in Vizima. Ought to have him stewing for a good long while.”
Geralt rolled his eyes. “I’ll give him your love as always.”
“Goodbye, Geralt,” she said, patting his arm lightly. “Be safe. You know how to reach me, if you have need.”
“I do,” he said. “I will. Take care of Ciri.”
“It’s more the other way around, I’m afraid,” she said with a soft smile, and Geralt understood exactly what she meant. Ciri had saved them both, in more ways than one. Every time he left her was more painful than the last. Someday, he knew, they might travel the Path together, a witcher, a sorceress and their daughter. Maybe even a bard, if he was extremely lucky.
Geralt hoped he would be.
#geraskier#geralt x jaskier#geraltxjaskier#geralt/jaskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier#big bang#geraskier big bang 2021#multichapter#fic#fanfic#the witcher#witcher#writing#my work#geraskierbigbang#me lamh
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Here's another fic-art collab with @asweetprologue for the Geraskier Big Bang 2021 @geraskierbigbang fic-
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32266939/chapters/79975228
Finally they tie the knot so definitely go check that out! 😆💖💖💖
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mostly we don’t want to harm each other
a collaboration for the 2021 @geraskierbigbang!
fic by: @jew-flexive; a03
art by: @breannaneo
fic rating: teen
word count: 16,275
relationships: geralt/jaskier, past jaskier/countess de stael, minor geralt/yennefer
warnings: no archive warnings apply
tags: alternate universe - modern setting, angst with a happy ending, not actually unrequited love, kid fic, jewish jaskier, past underage, emotional infidelity, famous jaskier, domestic fluff, new york city, jewish identity, alcohol, post-divorce, healing, yiddish, pov jaskier, pov jewish character
summary:
“Thank you,” he murmurs to Geralt as they sit together on his couch, both nursing hot toddies (Geralt’s praise for Jaskier’s heavy pour was so effusive it made him blush like he hasn’t since he was a teenager and Victoria Stael had him by the wrist at a Grammys afterparty) and watching the girls play with the LEGO set Jaskier got Essi for Chanukah. It’s for the gifts but it’s also for everything else.
“The wine is really more for me than for you, Jas,” Geralt smirks, but he softens quickly, his gaze warm, nudging Jaskier with his shoulder, understanding what Jaskier was trying to say without needing to be told. “But no problem.”
That’s what Jaskier likes about Geralt. With him, some things can be left unsaid. Jaskier never thought he’d take such comfort in silence, wordsmith that he is and has always been, but with Geralt, he is learning how to sit with the quiet, how to speak without sound.
Read the fic here!
Art post
#geraskier#the witcher tv#the witcher#the witcher netflix#the witcher fic#geraskier big bang#geralt of rivia#jaskier#geralt x jaskier#geralt/jaskier#essi daven#collab#Yennefer of Vengerberg#cirilla fiona elen riannon#ciri#cirilla#jewish fiction#geraskier Big Bang 2021
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The Inescapable March (Written by Blaire Seton, Illustrated by Moadlc and Herostag)
If intrigue, angst, time loops and mutual pining is your thing, then you MUST read @oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co's new #geraskier fic!
I had the honor of illustrating part of the story through the 2021@geraskierbigbang, the other lovely illustrations are the work of the amazing @herostag
Read the fic here
Check out the rest of my art here
#geraskier#geraskier fanart#geraskierbigbang#geraskierbb2021#geraskier fanfiction#geraskier fanfic#geraskier big bang 2021#moadlc#moadlc art#the inescapable march#new favorite fic#artist on kofi#artist on tumblr#queer artist#witcher fanart#creativecaviar
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so @geraskierbigbang was a thing. And by thing I mean it was a really fucking fun thing that I really had an amazing time doing.
short summary? Modern day, amnesiac Jaskier, angst, angst, angst, Valdo’s a dick
so if you wanna read the fic that resulted, here ya go!
all was taken from you (even existence)
Even more amazing? @hekatosmistart did just an incredible job and I’m really blown away and impressed and shit. The inclusion of a Nature Center actually came from me volunteering at one with one of my very best friends and while that’s not an idea in the fic, there’s just a feel to the art that is really reminiscent of actually being there with my friend which is just very lovely to me.
But no, go look at it, it’s awesome.
ART!
also @hintofelation99 was inexplicably willing to beta read my shit show so like, if you like Batman Comics and/or the BatFam in general, she’s your gal
#My writing#yeah ill admit that fic got outta hand#but im really damn happy with it tbh#of course my brain was also immediately like 'here's 89 more scenes you now wanna write'#which is fun#geraskier big bang#geraskier big bang 2021#my post
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Stars, I Have Seen Them Fall
A collaboration completed for the 2021 @geraskierbigbang! Thank you so much for hosting this event!
Fic by @hum-my-name
Art by @madness-to-my-method
Fic Rating: Mature
Word Count: 40,500
Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Tags: Non-Human Jasker | Dandelion, Fluff, Falling In Love, Pining, Happy Ending, Star!Jaskier, Light Angst, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Slow Burn, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Book and game references, First Kiss, Wishes, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion
As a star, Jaskier’s expected to sit in the night sky, shine brightly and answer wishes. He’s not supposed to fall in love with the world he’s watching, and he’s most definitely not supposed to fall in love with a specific witcher in it. When Jaskier accidentally trips his way into the human world, however, he finds himself alongside Geralt of Rivia-- the very witcher he’d spent most of his existence loving and watching from afar.
In his new human form, Jaskier takes part in all the worldly things he’s never known-- at the same time, he’s faced with a decision. Stars aren’t meant to be on earth-- and the more Jaskier uses his limited star-given magic, the more likely he is to lose his status as a star, altogether. Worse still? He’s not entirely sure how much Geralt will care for him if he’s nothing more than a simple human.
Art Posted on Tumblr
Fic Posted on AO3
#geraskier big bang#geraskier big bang 2021#the witcher#the art is beautiful go give it some love!#geralt of rivia#jaskier#geralt x jaskier#fanfic#fanart
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Hot Coffee
A @geraskierbigbang collaboration
written by @sunalsolove (IG @writesmorse)
art by @linx1457
beta by @robotgort
(E, 27K, Geralt/Jaskier with background Triss/Yennifer)
No archive warnings apply
Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, Firefighter Geralt, tacos al pastor, New Mexico, HEA, Romance, Explicit Sexual Content
Blurb:
AU.
Jaskier loves being a barista at a tiny coffee shop in Santa Fe, New Mexico. His favorite customer comes in nearly every day for a drink, giving Jaskier a chance to pine over Geralt in person. A taciturn firefighter, Geralt is having a tough summer as arson fires blaze out of control around the city. When Jaskier's house catches fire, Geralt is the one to rescue him, and sparks fly, but so does suspicion. Will Jaskier end up behind bars for a crime he didn't commit? Or will love, tacos, bath bombs, and a little luck save him?
Art Post HERE
Fic on AO3 HERE
Thank you so much to the mods at @geraskierbigbang for being amazing!
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[Fic] My Summer Big Bang
This year, I’ve been a part of two Big Bang: @eskelbigbang and @geraskierbigbang.
First of all, thanks at those who made them possible. It is probably a lot of work!
Second, thanks to @zmezagain and @midnightmagpies for working on me on those and making wonderful art out of it!
Here, you’ll find the links to the Masterpost of each fics! Don’t forget to like and reblog the art!
Eskel Big Bang - Daughter of Fire
Geraskier Big Bang - Again? Better!
#Nanny's Works#Artist: midnightmagpies#Artist: zmezagain#Big Bang#Eskel Big Bang#Geraskier Big Bang#Eskel Big Bang 2021#Geraskier Big Bang 2021#EBB 2021#GBB 2021
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My piece for the Geraskier Big Bang! Big thanks to my wonderful author (ilu!) If you want angst go read her time loop fic!! (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)
It Doesn’t Break But it Bends - @drowningbydegrees
#witcher#the witcher#geraskier#geralt#jaskier#fanart#fanfic#gbb 2021#blue#sad boys#angsty#angst#geraskier big bang#geraskierbigbang#geraskierbb2021#my art
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like the love that discovered the sin
Author: longing-and-heartache-and-lust (AO3)
Artist: gen-syz-art (Twitter)
Rating: E
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Word Count: 14,223
Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier
Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Lingerie, Jaskier | Dandelion in Lingerie, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, Porn with Feelings
Summary:
It was last winter that Jaskier had overheard Geralt while he was playing Gwent with his brothers and lost a bet that one of his biggest fantasies was seeing Jaskier in lingerie and being allowed to do anything he wanted to him then.
He couldn't stop thinking about it since, not really.
So when they returned to Redania in early spring, he knew exactly what he had to do. It would take some planning and some talking, of course, especially considering that he had to keep it all a secret from Geralt, but - and of this, he was more than sure - it would all be worth it in the end.
Link to Fic | Link to Art
#geralt/jaskier#geraskier#geralt#jaskier#the witcher#the witcher netflix#fic rating: e#fic length: 10k - 15k#longing-and-heartache-and-lust#gen-syz-art#witcher event#witcher big bang#witcherbigbang#witcher big bang 2021#witcherbigbang 2021#wbb 2021 fic
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me lámh le do lámh - Part II
First | Next | Masterpost
He went straight to Vizima to find Triss, once he’d made his way out of Kaedwen. It wasn’t directly on the way to Oxenfurt, but it was close enough that he didn’t feel he was making an unreasonable digression. Though he was nervous about locating his bard, he needed to know what this Ida person could tell him.
Triss was as welcoming as always, greeting him with a brief press of cheeks and a light embrace. Yennefer had told her of Geralt’s mission, but she was unable to assist him on the first day, busy with treating several commoners who had come down with a sickness. Nothing of a magical nature, but it did detain her for much of the day after Geralt’s arrival. He busied himself in the city, restocking on potion ingredients that he’d run low on over the long winter, dropping his armor off to be reinforced, and picking up a slim cloth bracelet for Jaskier. It was a soft blue color, with silver beads spaced evenly over the surface, and Geralt thought it would please him.
Gods. He was in trouble.
That evening he dined with Triss in her quarters, despite the fact that it was wildly inappropriate. Geralt asked after it, and Triss laughed dismissively.
“That is a delightful sentiment, but no one is questioning my dalliances,” she said with a grin. “They’re too afraid I’ll turn them into toads if they irritate me. And besides, half the Continent believes that you’re courting Yennefer because of the bard’s silly songs, and the other half thinks you’re courting the bard.”
Ah. “Well,” Geralt said, articulately.
Triss smirked at him over her wine. It was exceptionally good, a vintage from Toussaint that was nearly as old as Geralt. Triss’ quarters were fairly large, befitting a court mage, but decorated in a way that made them seem almost cozy. She favored muted colors that turned rich in the light of the candles scattered around the room. There were dozens of tables and shelves crowded with books, herbs and knick knacks that made the space feel distinctly lived in. It was a stark contrast to Yennefer’s lodgings, which were always immaculate and finely organized. The clutter was a refreshing change of pace. “Yennefer told me that you’re trying to make the bard immortal,” Triss said. One of her eyebrows rose, and Geralt wasn’t sure if the look she gave him was impressed or judgemental.
“Not necessarily,” Geralt said defensively. “Just not so, uh.”
“Excessively mortal?”
He hummed. Triss sighed.
“I don’t know of anything to lengthen a human lifespan to that of a witcher’s,” she said. “But the elves have been dealing in things relating to life force for longer than there have been human mages on the Continent. If anyone has any knowledge of what you’re after, it will be the Aen Saevherne.”
Geralt nodded. “Yennefer told me to ask after a woman named Ida. A sage?”
Triss set her goblet down, looking grave. “Ida Emean. An old acquaintance of mine. Perhaps one of the last elven sages alive, though they’re so secretive it’s difficult to tell. She works occasionally with the Brotherhood, when their goals align. But you need to know, Geralt, even if she has an answer for you, this kind of magic comes with a price. Always.”
“I’m willing to pay it,” Geralt said. “Jaskier, he’s—”
Triss interrupted him with a gentle smile, brushing her fingers over the back of his hand on the table. “I know what he is to you. I want to help. I just want you to be careful.” Geralt wondered when he’d become this transparent to, apparently, half the Continent and every one of his close friends. The sorceresses were probably gossiping behind his back.
“How will you contact her?” Geralt asked, pushing through his embarrassment. He wished saving Jaskier’s fragile human life didn’t involve so many conversations about his unrequited love.
“Megascope,” Triss said, rising. “We’ll need to do it soon, when the moon rises. It will make the connection stronger; I’m not sure where she is.”
Geralt followed her into a room off of the main sitting area, a small space that was almost entirely dominated by Triss’ megascope. He’d seen its like numerous times at Kaer Morhen, where Yennefer had set her own up in the highest tower still standing. The large crystal disks swam with a cool blue light as Triss waved her hand through the air. Three brass arms rose up to hold them at shoulder level, facing inwards to form a triangle. The soft light filled the dark space, throwing Triss’ face into sharp relief before Geralt snapped a finger to light the candles in the room.
Triss stepped up in front of the negative space between the stands, uttering a few words in Elder that Geralt wasn’t familiar with. After a moment the light began to shimmer and twist around itself, slowly solidifying into a human form.
The figure was indistinct, as they usually were in megascope projections, but Geralt could tell that the woman was beautiful. Used to dealing with elves in the south, whose genes had been diluted with human blood over so many centuries, Geralt was taken aback by the sharpness of her features. Her neck was long and elegant, and her hair fell in sheets around her alien features. He was reminded suddenly of his encounter with the elves of the Blue Mountains so many years ago, the inhuman angle of Filavandrel’s cheekbones.
The smoky figure turned towards Triss first, her head dropping in a brief nod. “Triss Merigold. Keidmil.” Ida said in greeting.
Triss nodded in return, her curls bouncing with the motion. “Keidmil, Ida. I apologize for summoning you with so little warning. I have done so as a favor to a friend.” At this Ida’s eyes, empty orbs of swirling blue light in the megascope, fell on Geralt.
“Vatgern,” she said, with the tone of someone who has just discovered something fascinating but slightly repulsive on the bottom of their shoe. “You have friends in high places, wed. What business does a witcher have with me?” Her accent made the words almost musical.
Geralt’s nod of acknowledgement was more of a bow. He wasn’t normally one to show deference to those with power, but this time his heart was pounding in his ears as he leaned forward. If Ida wouldn’t help him, he would be back to square one before he’d even really begun. “Keidmil, Aen Saevherne,” he said as demurely as he could, which probably still came out sounding like gravel. “I was told by Yennefer of Vengerberg that you might have some knowledge on extending human lifespans.”
Ida’s head tilted a tic to the side, clearly intrigued. “Witchers already live near as long as any half-elf on the Continent,” she replied. “There is no spell that could give you the lifespan of a true Aen Seidhe.”
“It isn’t for myself,” Geralt said quickly. “It’s for a human. Someone I… care deeply about.” He ignored the way his face flamed at this admission, no matter how clear it was that Triss obviously knew about his infatuation. He’d barely admitted it aloud to himself, let alone anyone else.
Ida hummed, the sound vibrating through the megascope. “This has precedent. But the spell you seek does not come without cost.”
“Tell me,” Geralt said firmly.
“There has always been conflict between humankind and the Aes Seidhe. Our peoples have crossed gweld an gleidyf many times over the millennia. But there were always times when there was peace, coexistence. In the early days, before the blood of men diluted our own, the Aes Seidhe could live through half a dozen human lifetimes or more. It was taboo to form relationships with humans, and many did not bother. But there were, of course, exceptions.
“It is unclear where the ritual comes from, but the tales say that one of the Aen Saevherne fell in love with a human woman, who then fell gravely ill as she entered her twilight years. The sage, terrified of losing her, bound her lifeforce to his own, effectively extending her life at the cost of some of his own longevity. Over the years the ritual was refined by others. It has fallen out of practice, in this age; many of the Aes Seidhe’s bloodlines are so diluted that they live for no longer than twice a human lifetime. But the ritual remains.”
Geralt swallowed. “Can you explain it to me?”
“I can,” Ida said, her chin raising slightly. “But I do not need to tell you, vatgern, that all such magic comes with consequences. You cannot create those years from nothing; they must be drawn from somewhere. And you will be binding yourself to this human. I cannot say how this ritual will impact someone who is not of elvish blood.”
He could feel Triss turning worried eyes on him. She too knew the price that magic could demand. “Will Ja—the human, could he be harmed?” Geralt asked.
Ida’s head shook back and forth, her hair swaying. “You assume the responsibility of the ritual,” she said. “Is this human worth so much to you?”
“Yes,” Geralt said instantly, surprised by his own lack of hesitation. “Anything.”
Ida looked at him for a moment, as if judging his truthfulness. “Very well,” she finally said. “I will give you the words, but the ritual requires additional pieces. Gaes carraigh, an oathstone, for the vow; ghealachlíon, night’s linseed, for the binding; and ionad, a place of great power or great personal meaning. Once these elements are combined, you bind your hands with the moonflax over the oathstone and speak the incantation. It is straightforward, but your pronunciation and your intent must be exact. Me lámh le do lámh, me cáerme le do cáerme.”
“Me lámh le do lámh, me cáerme le do cáerme,” Geralt repeated. The words were easy, close enough to their modern counterparts that he was certain it would be nearly identical in southern Elder. It was almost too easy, romantic in its simplicity. Ida nodded, satisfied. “And that’s all?” Geralt asked, breathless.
“That is all. There need be no officiant, no further ceremony. You will be bound by Chaos herself.”
“Officiant?” Geralt blinked, confused. “Why would we need an officiant?”
“I have been told that human marriages tend to involve quite a few witnesses,” Ida said, sounding amused. “Ours are a bit more personal.”
“Wait. This is a marriage ritual?” Geralt felt his heart starting to sink down into his stomach.
“I thought that much was obvious,” Ida replied. “Now, if that is all you require, I have my own business to attend to.”
“Me grasha, Ida, for taking the time,” Triss piped up again. “If you ever need a favor in return…”
“I will keep that in mind,” Ida said. “Va feil.”
“Va feil,” Triss replied, and the megascoped dimmed and cast the room back into darkness.
Geralt stood in utter stillness for a moment, blinking into the dark. “Fuck,” he burst out. “I have to marry him?”
Triss just laughed.
*
Triss, luckily, knew the locations of most of the components Ida had mentioned, though the last location would be up to Geralt to determine. The first of these, the oathstone, was used frequently enough in larger elven settlements before their people were displaced. She had recommended the ruins of Ban Aine as a likely findspot, and it was situated not too far from Oxenfurt. That was to be his first real stop, to collect Jaskier and convince him of Geralt’s plan.
Hopefully without revealing too much about the exact nature of the ritual, which still made Geralt sweat when he thought about it for too long.
He couldn’t help but think of it with a strange mix of giddiness and dread, churning together in a nauseating concoction. Marriage wasn’t something that witchers got to do, ever. Their lives were transient and drawn out, and often ended in violence. Even if any of them had the time to court lovers, it wasn’t the type of life that one would wish on someone they cared for. It could only end one of two ways: the witcher outlived their paramour, or their love was left to grieve them after they were gutted by some beast or strung up by an angry mob.
Even when Geralt had been infatuated with Yennefer he hadn’t truly considered anything like marriage. He had imagined a kind of loose commitment, maybe, but he had always known somewhere deep in his own mind that Yennefer would never stand to be tied down to anyone for long. He had been desperate enough for her love that he’d been willing to settle for anything she could give him.
He had never dared to hope for more, no matter how he might want it. Still, once he had come to understand his own feelings towards Jaskier, he had been unable to stop himself from thinking about it at times. He wondered what things might change between them, if they tied themselves together. Things might stay much the same; Jaskier would come to Kaer Morhen most years, and journey with Geralt when he could throughout the rest of the year. He would bring trinkets and books and stories for Ciri, and teach her how to be human, and trade quips with Yennefer and the other wolves when they all gathered. He would still help Geralt clean up after a hunt, help him stitch his skin back together and wash away the grime and curl up at his side when night came. But maybe he would also let Geralt wake him by pressing his lips to Jaskier’s eyelids like he had so often yearned to do. Maybe he would reach out and hold Geralt’s hand as they walked through a new town; maybe he would close the distance kept between them when they lay in tiny rented beds.
Maybe he could be Geralt’s, and no one else’s.
He was successful, most of the time, in keeping these kinds of thoughts at bay. It did a witcher no good to dwell on what could not be.
Now it would be, if only technically, and only if Geralt could convince Jaskier to perform the ritual without giving away its origins. He considered telling Jaskier the full truth of it, of course. It was probable that Jaskier wouldn’t even care. In his mind, they were only friends; it would be easy enough to set aside the implications of the ritual in favor of practicality. It would be ridiculous to turn down the chance at potentially doubling his own lifespan just because hundreds of years ago an ancient ritual was used for romantic unions.
But every time Geralt thought of telling Jaskier, and of hearing him dismiss Geralt’s concerns, he felt something black and dreadful crawl up his throat. Jaskier would think it was silly, the idea that he could ever be married to a witcher. He would laugh, with that sly grin he always got when they were sharing a joke between them—isn’t that funny, the look would say, the idea of you and me.
No. If he said nothing, Jaskier would never have to know, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Geralt would never hold him to any sort of bond that the ritual created between them; he would be happy knowing that Jaskier wouldn’t be taken from him by time and old age, at least not yet.
And at least he would have something of Jaskier for himself, even if he’d had to steal it.
#geraskier#geraskier big bang 2021#big bang#geraltxjaskier#geralt/jaskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier#geralt x jaskier#witcher#the witcher#twn#fic#fanfic#writing#my work#multichapter#me lamh
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This is my artwork for the Geraskier Big Bang 2021. @geraskierbigbang
I am doing artwork for two fics and this is for one of them. This is a fic-art collab with @asweetprologue 💖
I made a background...lmao imagine me drawing a background! 😆
I absolutely loved this scene from the fic and you should definitely go and read it! It's being updated daily. Link 👇
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32266939/chapters/79975228
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Photo
The bard wore a long red vest that looked to be of the same material as the prized coat that he had been treating so carefully since Geralt first saw it in Kovir. Beneath the vest, a pale yellow sleeveless chemise only made its appearance known because its silky fabric cascaded from below the hem of the vest. At first glance, the fabric looked to be of a solid pale yellow, but if one studied it more closely, the faint lines of a darker yellow traced a silhouette of dandelions.
So excited to share this with you! I had the pleasure of collaborating with @gwylliondream for and beta Gilli_ann this year’s @witcherbigbang on this cover art for the amazing slow-burn fic, “Visiting Marilka.”
Loved watching the story come together over the last few months. I’m so glad I was paired with Gwyllion for my first collaborative fandom event, she truly made the process approachable and fun.
Summary: Months after the mountain breakup, Geralt finds Jaskier performing in a tavern. Before Geralt can consider apologizing, the bard is interrupted by a messenger who notifies Jaskier that his father has died. Jaskier prepares to set off for Lettenhove to console his mother and siblings. Geralt gets caught up in the drama and accompanies Jaskier as he travels to his childhood home. On their journey, Geralt learns that a witcher’s Path needn’t have a predetermined destination.
Go over and read it on AO3 right now: Visiting Marilka (57k, rated M)
(art minus title under the cut)
#my art#gwyllion#witcher big bang#witcherbigbang#witcher event#witcher big bang 2021#geraskier art#geraskier fic#the lasso tool and I made peace with one another for this one
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One of the fics I made art for the @geraskierbigbang is finally here!! I was really craving some angsty geraskier content and this fic really hit the spot.
Link to fic
Link to art
I am so glad I got to pinch-hit for you @acemoppet! Here is a summary for the fic and my art is below the cut!
Summary:
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad- I mean, all you’d have to do is wake up, right?”
Geralt thins his lips. “You can’t wake up,” he says solemnly. “You won’t want to.”
Or: Not long after Rinde, Jaskier is attacked by another djinn. This time, it might take more than their voice."
#geraskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier#geralt x jaskier#geraskier big bang#geraskier big bang 2021#gbb 2021#gbb#geraskier fanfic#geraskier fanart#dandelion#i knew you would forget#moadlc#moadlc art#witcher fanart#artist on tumblr#art commissions#commissions open
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within you
For the 2021 @witcherbigbang!
Fic by @jaskofalltrades
Art by @dogblessyoutascha
Beta @ladymatt
Rating: T
Word Count: 33563
Warning/s + Tags: Labyrinth Fusion, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Trails, Child Abduction, Getting Together, Eventual Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma, Child Neglect, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Found Family, Major Character Injury, Misunderstandings, Blood and Injury, The Canon Timeline is my bitch
Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier
Summary:
“I have come to take back the child surprise that you have stolen from me-”
“Stolen dear Witcher? I have stolen nothing, I rescued Ciri. I think it’s you attempting to steal from me.”
“Give her back!”
“Why? It’s not like you wanted her in the first place.”
Read on AO3
Art Post
#the witcher#geraskier#geraskier fanfic#the witcher fanfic#the witcher big bang#wbb 2021#jaskier x geralt#geralt x jaskier#jask writes#dogblessyoutascha#ladymatt
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Go To The Coast, Dearheart.
A collaboration for the 2021 @geraskierbigbang. Thank you to @dodgylogic for very kindly and very wonderfully betaing this fic.
Fic by: @youarebeingshaggedbyarareparrot , pen name flandersmare on AO3
Art by: @punchsomeoneforme-willyou
Fic rating: Teen and Up
Word count: 29330
Relationships: Geralt and Jaskier, Geralt and Ciri, Jaskier and an OC, Geralt and an OC
Warnings: No Archive Warnings, but delves into topics and themes of suicidal behaviours, disassociation and contains a scene for the point of view of a drowning character.
Tags:Original Characters, Post-Episode: s01e06 Rare Species, post-mountain, Disassociation, descriptions of drowning, suicidal behaviour, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Emotionally Distressed Geralt of Rivia, Ciri gets sick, Our boys need help, Original Ensemble Characters, So many OCs, someone help me, please take them from me, I’m not ready to be a mother, found family (threatening), a variety of emotional support animals, hard conversations, author has never been to therapy, probably should, I’m all here for the romance but boy howdy they have some work to do first, Please take care of yourselves, can you tell i miss the sea?
'He was going to tell the story.
He’d decided that much. Or at least, a version of the story. He had to. She’d said he owed her nothing, and she may think that, but it was just not true. She’d opened her home to him and in these last months of sleeping where he fell and eating what he could find, that was a kindness that could not go ignored.
Maybe it was a tale as old as the stars, a heart broken and struggling to piece itself together again. But the classics were classics for a reason.And his tragedy, because it was a tragedy he’d come to realise, thinking back to the youth in Posada with a song in his heart, dust in his hair and bread in his trousers, and where he is now, his tragedy may be unheard of to a seal. Maybe she’d never needed to rinse her ears of human matters.
He owed it to himself too. What sort of cautionary tale was he, if no one ever heard it?'
After the mountain, Jaskier follows the slope, then the stream, then the river, then the shoreline.
Seabirds don’t sing, they cry.
Art post
Fic post
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