#like him joining geralt at such a young age
Text
would've, could've, should've is the perfect geraskier angst song fyi
#like him joining geralt at such a young age#“the pain was heaven”#im making myself sad#geraskier#gerskier
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Author's Note- It took me a while to write this due to some personal issues and to be true I had expected it to be better than it came out to be.
Thank you and Enjoy your reading!
The Present As It Is
Daemon Targaryen x Sister!Reader
Part 1 ☆ Part 2 ☆ Part 3
Tag list - @minaxcarter, @eliseline, @Blackhoodlea, @little-moonbeam-666, @neenieweenie, @omgsuperstarg, @avalyaaa, @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @krokietinio, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @thekayarlene, @narcy, @helloitsshitzulover, @muushwrites, @daringboba
GIF Credits to @valkyriethais
Summary- 10 years have passed since the duel between the Rogue Prince and the Wolf Lord and things have changed.
10 YEARS HAD passed since that day when the Realm's Desire's wedding was interrupted. (Y/N) still wonders what would have happened if Cregan had won that challenge, but she is glad he didn't.
She remembered Daemon's brutal blows to the Lord of Winterfell. People had whispered how the Rogue Prince and the ancient sword of House Targaryen, Dark Sister, craved the wolf lord's blood.
(Y/N) remembered the twisting fear when she watched Daemon advance towards the fallen Stark Lord with the blood-hungry Dark Sister, a murderous look painted on his handsome face. (Y/N) had screamed to stop Daemon when he had placed the grand Valyrian steel sword right against Cregan's armored chest.
Whatever it was, it was the past and (Y/N) definitely loved her present and hoped for a good future. "Mother," chirped Alyssa, clearly wishing her mother's attention. (Y/N) and Daemon had decided to name her after their mother's name. (Y/N) hummed, caressing Alyssa's check.
"Can we go for a ride on Vaemar?" Vaemar was a name chosen for Alyssa's dragon by her. "Sure, we can, sweetheart. But before that, we need to find your brothers and sister." Alyssa nodded with a huge grin, already setting off to find her siblings. "You might want to check the training grounds!" (Y/N) exclaimed as she smiled, watching her daughter grin widely and disappear in the maze of corridors of the Red Keep.
(Y/N) followed her overly excited Alyssa towards the training grounds. Groans and grunts and clashing of swords became more and more apparent as they reached the ground filled with knights and young lordlings.
In the middle of the circle was Daemon with their 2 sons and eldest daughter, teaching them to defend themselves. "Father!" Alyssa exclaimed, sprinting towardsthe Rogue Prince. Daemon turned, grining as he spotted Alyssa approaching, closely followed by his dear wife.
"Daughter," he greeted calmly with a smile, crouching down to hug her. "How come did you decided to visit your lonely father?" He asked mockingly, placing the young princess on his hip as he stood up to his original height. "She wished to go on a ride on our dragons," (Y/N) said, ruffling Daevon's white hair.
Daemon's eyes brightened up as he looked at his youngest daughter who was 6 summers old. (Y/N) and Daemon both had been early dragon riders. While Daemon started riding Caraxes when he was 8, (Y/N) had started flying her mount, (D/N), at the age of 6.
"Can we join as well, mother?" Viseyna asked, handing her sword to a servant. "Sure, why not," (Y/N) grinned, looking at her beautiful children. "Go and change out of your armors and into your riding dresses," she urged her kids, who sprinted off with a nod.
Daemon sighed, smiling widely as (Y/N) turned to him. "It have been a while since all of us has took to the sky together." His hand snaked around (Y/N)'s waist, bringing her close. "Yes... let's go before our children come and find us," (Y/N) said, winking at Daemon who chuckled in response.
Once the family reunited at the Dragonpit, laughs and conversations bounced off the rather silent walls of the fort as they waited for their dragons to be brought. Caraxes' roar and (D/N)'s comparatively soft grunt grabbed the dragon riders' attention.
Daemon smiled, prideful of his mount, while (D/N) bowed her head to (Y/N), just like she has always done. Following the older two dragons were Vaemar, Zaerex and Jaenna; the mounts of the young dragon riders, except for Viserys, the Rogue Prince and the Realm's Desire's youngest son.
"Jikagon ahead, riñi," (Go ahead, kids) Daemon urged, making his own way to the red worm-like dragon. The young offsprings were quick to mount their own dragons, just the way they have been taught. Meanwhile, Viserys made his way to (D/N), waiting to follow his mother.
The giggling was constant until the dragons took to the skies, soaring across the swift, cool breeze. Viserys stared down at the city in awe, pressing himself to his mother, who kept one hand on (D/N)'s scale and the other around Viserys' abdomen in a secure manner.
"Look at the sea, Kepa," (Father) Daevon squealed as Zaerex descended down to kiss the surface of the shimmering sea. A ship or two, small on the horizon. "Gevie, iksis ziry daor, tresy?" (Beautiful, is it not, son?) Daemon asked, his eyes tender and filled with adoration.
Daevon nodded absent-mindedly, smiling down at the sea water. His hands, unconsciously, caressing Zaerex, something he had took in heredity from his own mother.
Alyssa and Viseyna seemed to have settled into a race of their own, trying to beat each other by doing something out of ordinary and enchanting. Alyssa's Vaemar being young and energetic could easily pull off more stunts than Viseyna's Jaenna, who was more fast due to her smaller structure.
Daemon and (Y/N) shared a knowing look. A content feeling warming their hearts. It didn't matter how much they had to struggle to live their present, but it didn't matter now. Now, that they had their sons and daughters close and them bonded in fire and blood.
Perhaps, not always does duty needs to be followed, sometimes, it has to be love.
#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon x y/n#daemon x reader#daemon au#matt smith x reader#hotd imagine#daemon targaryen
572 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alternate Instincts Ch.21
Sy sat on the couch in her apartment scrolling through his phone as Stephanie was grabbing some things when there was a timid knock on the door. Getting up, he went over and opened it, arching a brow at the young man with dark curly hair standing on her doorstep.
“Sup, man.” He said.
“Uh...hi.” He said, “Are you—you’re an Alpha.”
“I am.” He said with a nod and took a quick sniff, catching his fear. “You know Steph?”
“We’re uh...we’re neighbors. I’m—I’m Hunter.” An alarm bell went off in his head. Hunter.
“You wanna come in?” Sy offered gently.
“I uh...”
“It’s okay, bud, you’re safe. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He said and Hunter let out a sigh.
“Yeah, it’s just...”
“I understand.” He said and moved to the side, “Come on in, take a seat.” Hunter moved past him into the apartment as Stephanie came from the back.
“Hi?” She said, looking at him curiously.
“Steph, this is your neighbor Hunter.” Sy said.
“Hunter.” She said and Sy nodded. “The one that...” Another nod.
“You know.” Hunter said, twisting his fingers nervously.
“A couple others in my pack have contacts on the Council.” Sy said, “Got a bad vibe from Frank so they looked into him. We know what he did to you, son.”
“He doesn’t just hurt us.” Hunter said, “He takes our money, leaves us with almost nothing.”
“Why don’t you have a seat?” Stephanie suggested and he nodded, going over to sit on the couch. “Would you like something to drink?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Hunter said, “I’ve seen you around, and I’ve seen her with a white haired Alpha and I—you made Frank nervous. He only gets like that if he feels threatened and...” He stopped with a sigh, “Can I join your pack?” They were both silent for a moment.
“Sy, you said that you couldn’t challenge Frank because it would be poaching, and that your hands were tied, but what if a member of his pack came to you for help?” Stephanie asked.
“Well that’s a whole ‘nother story.” Sy said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If a member of his pack asks me to step in, I can step in.”
“Should you call the others?”
“Lemme call Geralt, get Mikey here too so he ain’t surrounded by Alphas. Easiest way to do it would be to take over, make this pack mine. He wouldn’t be able to touch you if you were a member of another pack, Hunter, but that don’t mean he won’t make your life hell.”
“Too late.” Hunter said with a derisive snort. “You’d really challenge him for territory?”
“How big’s the pack?”
“About a dozen? Including the kids. It’s this building and the one next door.” Hunter said and Sy blinked for a moment before pulling his phone from his pocket.
“I’m calling all hands.”
The rest showed up as quickly as they were able and introductions were made. Hunter seemed a bit more at ease with Mike there as they were closer in age and Mike wasn't an Alpha. He explained everything that had been going on in the pack, Frank taking all of their money from their jobs, giving back only enough to get by. Families were no exception. Omegas were mistreated, taken advantage of. Betas, of which there were only a couple, were treated with suspicion and sometimes open hostility. Nulls, which made up the rest of the pack save for the children who had yet to manifest, were treated by Frank as abnormalities, even though they, statistically, made up most of the wolf population as a whole.
"Have you ever challenged for territory before?" August asked.
"Only once." Sy said, stretching his shoulders and bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"If he doesn't submit, you may have to kill him." Walter said.
"Cross that bridge if I come to it."
"I could do it." Geralt said.
"No you can't and you know that." Sy said, "You work for the Council, you can't run a pack. Besides, the kid came to me for help, not you."
"Anything I can do?" Stephanie asked.
"Stay here." Sy said, "I ain't puttin' you in danger, doll."
"I don't like being benched."
"No one does, but this is a wolf and you--"
"Have a black belt in kickboxing and Brazilian Jui Jitsu." She said and they paused, looking at her.
"Really?" Mike asked finally and she nodded. "Fuck, that's hot."
"And you let Lewis hurt you?" August asked and Sy punched his shoulder with a scowl. "What? If she can defend herself, why didn't she?"
"Jordan twisted it to make me think I deserved it, so why the hell would I fight back?" She said indignantly.
"You didn't deserve it." Walter said immediately.
"I know. Being with you all has made me realize how I should have been treated from the start." She said, "But my shitty ex is not what's important right now. What's important is kicking Frank to the curb so he can’t hurt these people anymore.”
“Agreed.” Walter said, “You want backup in case he tries to fight dirty?”
“Yeah.” Sy said, “Feel like steppin’ up to the plate?”
“I’ll stay back unless it goes pear shaped.” Walter said and with a kiss to Stephanie each, they left the apartment after she told them where she hands in her rent checks.
“I don’t like this.” She said and Mike went to her, holding her arms gently.
“They’ll be fine. Sy is the strongest Alpha I know. If anyone can kick Frank’s ass, it’d be him.” He said and she nodded, but she still didn’t like it.
“Are they—” Hunter started, “Are you their Mate?” She simply nodded again, “But you’re not—you’re not a wolf.”
“It’s complicated.” She said briefly. “Oh I need a distraction so I don’t go down there.”
“I can give you a distraction, sweetcheeks.” Mike said with a smirk but it fell at the look she gave him, “Sorry.”
They ended up sitting in her living room watching one of her favorite movies, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, Mike sitting at her feet with her legs crossed over his chest, Geralt and August on either side of her, each with a hand on her knee. She had a hard time concentrating, her mind drifting to what was going on on the ground floor of the building. Mike must have picked up on it, his hands coming up to hold her legs.
“They’ll be fine.” Geralt said.
“I know.” She replied, “Doesn’t mean I can’t worry.”
The movie was almost over when the front door opened, Sy and Walter coming back inside and Mike moved so she could get off the couch without stepping on him. Sy had a contusion on his cheek that would blossom into an impressive bruise and his lip was split, dried blood in his beard.
“I’m fine, doll.” He said as she reached up to touch his face gently.
“He still breathing?” August asked and he nodded.
“He’s limpin’ and bleedin’ but he’s alive.” Sy said, “Steph was right. Man’s a bully, and bullies always fold when they come up against someone who ain’t gonna back down.”
“What happens how?” Hunter asked, getting up from the recliner he had been sitting in and Sy gave a sigh, running a hand over his scalp.
“Imma need a proxy, someone to run this pack while I’m up north. I’d tap Steph because she’s got an apartment here, but she ain’t a wolf. Geralt can’t because he works for the Council. August—”
“I can’t.” August said, cutting him off.
“Can’t or won’t?” Sy asked.
“Can’t. Same reason as Geralt.” He said and there was a pause.
“You work for the Council?” Mike asked.
“Not officially.” He said, “But I still can’t hold a pack or be a proxy.”
“Fuck.” Geralt sighed.
“I’m missing something.” Stephanie said.
“He’s a Cleaner.” Geralt said and Stephanie looked at August in surprise. “I had my suspicions.”
“It’s close enough to what I did with the Agency that I got approached when I left.” August said.
“Hunter,” Stephanie said, still looking at August. “You can go on home, we’ll let you know what happens next when we figure it out.”
“Right.” Hunter said, “Mike, talk to you later? I’ll dig out that omnibus we talked about.”
“Yeah man,” Mike said, “Absolutely.”
“Mike why don’t you go with him?” Stephanie said, “That way you guys can talk Warhammer some more.”
“You—you sure?” Mike asked and she nodded.
“Come on.” Hunter said, “I ate nothing but cup noodles for six months so I could get the Black Templar set.”
“I’m a Custodes guy myself.” Mike said as they left the apartment, the door closing behind them.
“Sy told me about the Cleaners.” Stephanie said, “The shit they pull.”
“Stephanie—” August started.
“How they kill people who tell the Council to fuck off.”
“It’s not that.” He said, “Some of these packs were doing horrific things. Sex trafficking of minors and Omegas, drug smuggling, weapons stockpiling.”
“So contact the Feds.”
“If the human government found out what they were doing, it would only add fuel to anti-wolf legislation.”
“Horrible behavior isn’t exclusive to wolves.” She said, “All of the things you’ve said are illegal, but not punishable by the death penalty. You also said “some” not all. Have you gone after packs who disobeyed the Council too many times?”
“Steph, it’s not that—”
“Have you,” She said and he paused.
“Yes, but I only took out the leadership, everyone remaining were taken in by other packs.”
“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t kill everyone, August, it matters that you killed people who the Council couldn’t control.” She said, “Giving the Council the middle finger is not against the law, and certainly isn’t punishable by death. The Councilors throwing tantrums because they got told no shouldn’t result in a body count. You’re their contract killer, their hitman, their enforcer, whatever you want to fucking call it. They’re using you to do their dirty work.”
“I’m maintaining order between packs.”
“You’re killing dissenters and naysayers. They spout all these grand words about cooperation and integration with law enforcement, but they’re taking the law into their own hands. If what these packs do is punishable by death, then so be it, but it’s not the Councils job to be judge and jury with you and every other Cleaner as the executioner.” He was quiet. “You said it was similar to what you did with the Agency.”
“Steph—”
“Don’t make me ask.”
“I tracked down and killed rogue Agents who threatened the national security. These weren’t people who just wanted to disappear into the quiet life, they worked with extremist groups, terrorist organizations, committing high treason.”
“These packs aren’t committing high treason, August. You’re their gun, nothing more.” Stephanie said.
“Stephanie...”
“They’re using you August, getting your hands filthy so theirs stay clean.”
“She’s right,” Sy said, “About all of it. It’s fucked up, Walker. You left the Agency because you got sick of bein’ used, but the Council is doin’ the same shit as Langley.” They watched him thinking it over, starting to pace in the apartment, running his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck.” He growled out and pulled out his phone, pulling up a contact and putting it to his ear. “I’m done.” That was all he said before he hung up, putting it back into his pocket. “I’m done being fucking used.”
“Good.” Stephanie said, “Now we need to think about—” It was cut off as August crossed the room, pulling her into his arms and taking her mouth hard in a kiss, his hand fisted in her hair. “August?”
“I love you.”
#henry cavill#captain syverson#walter marshall#august walker#hellraiser mike#geralt of rivia#alternate instincts
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 7
Chapter 6
-----------Kaer Morhen--------------
"Ready?" you ask Ciri, wooden sword in hand. "Whenever you are," Ciri answers, light on her feet, eager to get this sparing session underway.
In the last several weeks, since that day when you discovered Geralt's secret kink, you had asked him to teach you how to use a sword. You've always kept a knife or dagger on your person before as a precaution as being a woman traveling mostly by yourself wasn't all that safe in this world, but now you wanted to really learn the art of sword fighting so to better defend yourself should the day come.
Geralt had initially found this odd, given you were more of a pacifist, but he nodded and agreed to teach you alongside Ciri, who was already advancing well into her training.
You currently took a stance, ready to spar with the young girl. You have yet to beat Ciri in a sparring match, but this time you had feeling today was the day. You check to make sure the wrappings around your chest were still secure (you're still breastfeeding and it's not the most comfortable feeling to have them move about all over the place when you're spinning and sword swinging).
Eskel, Coen, and Lambert stood at the sidelines as spectators along with Vesemir, who was holding Aemma in his arms and keeping her company (something the old man would've enjoyed a little more if your daughter wasn't so keen on pulling his mustache every five seconds or so).
Geralt stood by waiting to give the signal as you and Ciri make stances and touch swords. On the witcher's signal, the two of you clash wooden swords.
"Five crowns on Ciri," Lambert whispers to Coen. "I'll take that bet," Coen whispers back. "I double that bet on (y/n)," Eskel joins in on the conversation. "Pfft, (y/n) has yet to beat the Ciri in a fight," Lambert fights, "the girl can fight circles around her." "Then you have nothing to worry about," Eskel shrugs.
You continue clashing swords with Ciri, mimicking the turns and pirouettes Geralt has been showing you. Ciri had age and speed working in her favor (along with the fact she's never had a baby), and of course she's been training longer than you were. But, you noticed the young girl has been getting a little cocky today, almost certain victory was hers like it has been dozens of other sparring matches with you.
Maybe you could use that to your advantage.
You back away, feigning like you were about to yield and accept defeat from the girl once more. Ciri lunged towards you, ready to finish the match. You notice the way her feet were positioned; a sloppy mistake made as a result of her cockiness. You quickly spin around and trip Ciri, causing her to fall over.
She quickly grabs her sword and still parries your sword from the ground. You keep swinging, even though Ciri said she yielded, but you didn't listen as you start to experience flashbacks from your previous life in Westeros, back to the day of the tourney.
"(y/n), she yields," Geralt calls out. The other witchers exchange looks, wondering what was going on with you.
"(y/n)! That's enough!" Geralt exclaims, but still you don't listen.
Him and Eskel run to pull you away from Ciri.
You were panting and sweating, barely aware of your surroundings as Geralt tried to shake you back to reality, calling your name.
You were fully brought back the moment you heard your daughter crying in distress.
"Huh? What?" you shake your head.
"The fuck is wrong with you, woman?!" you hear Lambert's voice, "you almost killed the girl!"
"What?" you look to see Ciri was still laying on the ground, Coen helping her back to her feet. You also look to see Aemma was crying, Vesemir doing his best to comfort her, carrying her away from the scene.
Your eyes widen in horror, realizing what you have done. You drop the sword in your hand, feeling sick to your stomach. You turn and run back to the keep.
---------Flashback: King's Landing---------------
"I don't believe I've yet expressed my congratulations for being named heir, princess," you say as you tune your lute.
It had been nearly a month and a half since Daemon had left for Dragonstone, since you broke off your relationship with the prince. Since then, you've kept yourself occupied entertaining Rhaenyra and composing more songs to get over your heartbreak. It hadn't been easy, but you knew it had to be done for the sake of your mental well-being.
From what you heard, though, Daemon had taken someone else with him in your place; probably Mysaria, you figured. It was no surprise as he had still been seeing her even though you made him promise not to when you and him were still together. You never said anything; he was a man after all and one who was used to doing what he wanted and no one else would challenge him. This was already apparent by the fact that Daemon's been occupying Dragonstone this whole time, even though Viserys had ordered him to Runestone to be with his wife, and the king had yet to do or even say anything about it.
"It must be a high honor to receive such a title," you continue speaking to the princess. "I suppose it is," Rhaenyra admits, her mind seeming to be in another place. "For what it's worth, princess, I think you'll make a good Queen," you say, meaning it. Rhaenyra is the Realm's Delight after, all, and even though she is a woman, you believe people would come to accept her as their leader.
"I sense this is not on your mind right now, your Grace," you say, bringing the girl's attention back to reality. "Oh, forgive me," the princess speaks, "I uh, I was thinking about my mother. I miss her dearly." "I understand," you nod, "as someone who's lost a mother before, it took months, years I dare say to get over her loss." "How did you do it?" Rhaenyra asks. "I honestly wasn't able to come to terms with losing her until years later," you admit, "my, uh, father had his own way of grieving her loss, one that placed me in a position where I had to put aside my own grief and take up many of his responsibilities. And when I was able to properly mourn, I just had to stare into the void and scream my heart out...and compose a number of songs to further process my loss. It gets easier princess, with time...never easy, but eventually, you'll be able to come to terms with it as well."
"Why didn't you leave with my uncle?" Rhaenyra asked you, changing the subject. "...My place is here with you, princess," you decide to tell her, "you're the reason I am here in the first place, it wouldn't have been right to leave my station, especially given your recent, uh, loss."
Rhaenyra wasn't completely convinced by that answer, but accepted it nonetheless.
"I'm not so sure I want to be queen," the princess admits, "up until this moment, I never even considered that would be a possibility for me. Up until now, all I wanted was to just ride on Syrax, travel to far off lands, and eat cake."
You chuckle a little at that, seeing how this statement made you realize how young she still was.
"Yes, I too would like to travel to parts unknown and eat cake," you joke, "oh wait, I've already done that."
Rhaenyra laughed at that, "I should like to travel to this Continent from your songs," she says, "see the things you've seen, meet the people you have. I should like to meet this white hair witcher you've spoke so highly of, or this warrior Queen, the Lioness of Cintra. I'd like to see these elves, dwarves, and dryads from your ballads, learn to swing a sword, or learn how to use magic and become a sorceress like the one from your songs."
"Unfortunately, princess, one must be born with the natural ability to use magic," you tell her, "however, anyone can learn to use a sword."
"Can you use a sword?" Rhaenyra asks. "Not a sword," you admit, "but I have some skill in using a knife or dagger. I consider myself a pacifist, princess, but that doesn't mean I don't want to defend myself. This world can be a scary place for a lone woman, anything can happen to people like us." "Well, then I will consider myself most fortunate to have a dragon by side," Rhaenyra says.
In the midst of your conversation, Ser Harrold Westerling approaches you and the princess, "my princess," he greets, "the king has requested your presence." Rhaenyra gave you a strange look before answering the knight, "did he say why?" "It is best that you see for yourself, princess," Harrold answers crypitcally.
Rhaenyra nods and allows the man to escort her to the small council chambers. Rhaenyra walks inside, but Harrold stops you, "I'm afraid this meeting is not for troubadours." You nod and turn, pretending to walk away but actually went through a secret entrance to listen in on the meeting; it was a special passage into the small council room that you remembered Daemon showing you once.
You look through the slats of a screen you were hiding behind. You see the small council with Grand Maester Mellos, Lord Lyonel Strong, Otto Hightower, and of course the king with Rhaenyra by his side.
At the other side of the table was a man dressed in black and gold with the sun embroidered on his robes. Two soldiers in armor with similar patterns stood by, along with a woman dressed in white and silver.
You recognized the sun insignia to belong to that of Nilfgaard. Your eyes widen even more the moment you recognized the woman to be the mage Fringilla Vigo.
What, you wondered, were Nilfgaardian ambassadors doing all the way in Westeros?
"It is an high honor to be welcomed into your home, your Grace," the Nilfgaardian ambassador begins his speech, "it was a very long journey, and truly you have lived up to your reputation as a kind and generous king. To show our gratitude, please accept this humble gift." The ambassador has a servant approach the princess with a necklace of gold, "a personal gift from His Imperial Majesty, Emhyr Var Emreis."
Rhaenyra looks to her father who nods in approval and the princess accepts the gift, "it is truly exquisite," she says, removing the Valyrian steel necklace her uncle gave her so as to wear this one. It was not quite the same, but she turned to the ambassador and thank him for the gift.
"It is truly a wonderful gift," Viserys speaks, "but I assume you did not come all this way from the Continent to gift us with gold necklaces and flattering words."
"You are right to assume such," Fringilla speaks, "we have also come with an offer. From the emperor himself."
"Forgive me, but who are you exactly?" Otto asks the woman. "Fringilla Vigo," the mage answers, "I serve His Imperial Majesty as both his court mage and his confidante. You can rest assure my words are his."
"You are a sorceress," Rhaenyra says impressed, "I've heard much of your sort. Can you give us a demonstration?"
Lyonel, Mellos, and Otto exchange looks, a little skeptical. "I'll be glad to, princess," Fringilla says, standing and approaching the young woman. The mage mutters an incantation in Elder speech and in her hands a glass figurine of a dragon appears in her hands, "for you. Consider it another gift."
"How are we to know this is magic you possess?" Otto scoffs, "for all we know this...charlatan could have kept this little figurine in her sleeves this whole time."
Fringilla only made a threatening smile and turned to the Hand, "if you doubt the authenticity of my talents, my lord, perhaps you would like further proof if I turn you into a toad."
Otto glares back at the mage, ready to call her bluff, but on the chance that she was serious about this little threat, he relents, "that...won't be necessary."
"I'm glad you agree," Fringilla smiles again in victory.
"I believe you wished to give us an offer on behalf of your emperor," Viserys speaks, bringing the conversation back.
"Of course," Fringilla speaks, "the Emperor wishes to propose a marriage. Himself to your daughter, the princess Rhaenyra."
Rhaenyra's eyes widen a bit, your eyes widening also from where you were hiding. "I think it a fair arrangement," the mage speaks, "in the last years since I've been brought to serve His Imperial Majesty, Nilfgaard has prospered. We have access to new resources in food, metal, wood, and many other things that could benefit this realm. Should you accept, the princess will be crowned Empress of Nilfgaard and her children will bear claim to Nilfgaard's throne."
"An Empress of a foreign land along with the title Heir Iron Throne...a very generous prospect indeed," Maester Mellos speaks.
"And what resources, pray tell, would the Emperor of Nilfgaard wish to trade with us in return?" Otto asks.
Before either the sorceress or the ambassador could answer, you feel your stomach turn and retch in response, which caught the attention of the small council.
You stay still, in hopes no one would come investigate.
Said hopes were dashed when Fringilla muttered another incantation that dissolved the screen.
You stare at the audience with an awkward smile on your face, "Must've been something I ate," you joke.
Otto gets up and yanks you from your spot by the hair, dragging you to the table.
"Hey! Let go! Let go!" you demand.
"Looks like we have a rat in the walls," Otto sneers, "Have you come to spy on the king?" "Get your fucking hands off me!!!" you bite Otto's hand, causing him to release you.
"(y/n)?" Rhaenyra rushes over to your side, "what are you doing here?" "Forgive me, princess, I did not mean to snoop," you tell her, wiping your mouth, "I saw the emblems of your guests and recognized them to be Nilfgaardian."
Fringilla stood and stared at you, almost like she had seen you before.
"I know you," she speaks to you, "the bardess from the Continent. The White Wolf's Lark." "I've heard of you too," the Nilfgaardian ambassador quips in, "(y/n). My wife is a big fan of your work. The Song of the White Wolf is her particular favorite."
You notice the way Viserys and the small council looked at you.
"Yes, that, uh, that's me," you shyly admit. "No relation to the Bard who's written ballads of the same famous White Wolf, is there?" "Uh, he's....he's my brother," you tell the mage, "singing and a penchant for writing seems to run in the family."
"You must be Fringilla Vigo," you speak to the mage, "I've heard of you. I'm friends with your colleague, Yennefer of Vengerberg."
Fringilla had a certain look on her face at the mention of that name, "if you do happen to come across her again, tell her I send my regards...and to thank her."
"I'll be sure to do that," you say.
"If I may interrupt," Otto says, "We had more pressing matters to discuss."
"Ah yes, a marriage proposal between the princess of Dragonstone and the emperor of Nilfgaard," you say, "it is a rather unique proposal," you turn to Fringilla, "I'm a little surprised Emhyr Var Emreis didn't look some place closer to home; any of the Northern realms on the Continent would've sufficed. Temeria, Kaedwen, Redania...Cintra perhaps. Or maybe further down south? Last I heard, the Duke of Toussaint had two eligible daughters that are close to marrying age."
You lean closer to Fringilla and speak in the elvish language, "of course none of those places boast a possession of dragons. Dragons that could be used in Nilfgaard's favor in times of war."
Fringilla stares at you, standing up to address you in the same language, "a bold accusation for one who doesn't even know of the treasure she currently carries."
You raised an eyebrow, confused by that statement.
"Can we please talk in a language we can all understand?" Otto exasperates.
"This offer to unite the two realms is quite generous, that much I'll admit," Viserys speaks, looking to his daughter who had a certain look on her face, "however, it is one we will have to talk over. We will take this proposal into consideration."
Nodding, Fringilla and the ambassador up and exit the small council chambers.
You attempt to sneak away, hoping to avoid some kind of reprimand from Otto or the king. "Not you," Viserys speaks, getting your attention, "you stay."
You sigh and stand by the table, "father, surely you don't mean-" "I would," Viserys admits to his daughter, "as this is highly irregular. However, I believe as a Continental her input would be most useful."
You give the king a confused look, "what can you tell me about this emperor? This Emhyr Var Emreis?"
You were still confused, but grateful you weren't going to face some kind of discipline, "Regretfully, your Grace, I know very little about this man," you tell him, "In fact, very few on the Continent, outside his inner circle, know anything about him. His predecessor, the late king, had a certain reputation for drinking and whoring while his subjects starved and threw riots on the streets. The king was disposed and a usurper took his place. Emhyr apparently had fled as a child and then returned to take back his throne and turn Nilfgaard into an empire."
"So he means to start a conquest it seems," Lyonel speaks, "and what better way to do so then with an army of dragons by his side."
"Do you think this to be the case, (y/n)?" Rhaenyra asks you. "...I would not be so quick to discard that motive as a possibility, princess," you honestly tell her, "and if Nilfgaard means to start a war with the northern realms, I predict those kingdoms will send envoys with similar proposals so as to secure an alliance with House Targaryen."
"Excuse me, father," Rhaenyra takes you by the arm and escorts you out of the chambers, "if what you say is true, I should like to learn more about these kingdoms," she tells you, "will you indulge me?" "I'll be happy to, princess."
-----------end of flashback: Kaer Morhen----------------
"Do you want to talk about it?" you hear Geralt ask as he leans by the door way.
You were in the bathtub, back facing the witcher, relishing in the hot, steaming water.
You weren't sure what to say as you were still reeling from the events earlier today when you almost pummeled Ciri to the ground.
You weren't sure what came over yourself. You've never lost control like that before, but the moment you had Ciri down, all you thought about when you would have to use those sword skills. You had started to imagine yourself fighting off Aemma's father, what it would be like if he came to Kaer Morhen on his dragon only to drag both you and your daughter back to the one place you did not want to go back anytime soon.
"Is...how's Ciri doing?" you decide to ask, pulling your knees close to your chest. "A few bruises here and there, but she'll live," Geralt assures, "it's nothing she hasn't had before."
"Oh gods, what have I done?" you groan, resting your head against your knees, tears welling up from the guilt of almost causing the poor girl grave harm, "Geralt, I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I wouldn't blame Ciri if she didn't forgive me for this."
"Ciri was little miffed at first," Geralt says, leaning behind the tub and grabbing a wet rag to wash your back, "but she's come to understand. She's already forgiven you."
"I don't deserve it," you sniffle, "I almost killed her."
"No you didn't," Geralt assures, "not with a wooden sword that is."
"But I could've if we were using different weapons." "Hey," Geralt scolds, "quite beating yourself up over this. It happened, no one got hurt, it's all in the past, now we need to move on."
You sigh as Geralt rinses out the rag. You feel the witcher place a kiss on your bare shoulder, "Geralt," you say, "if something happened to me or Aemma...if someone tried to take us away from Kaer Morhen, you would stop them, right?"
"Like Aemma's father you mean?" Geralt says to which you lightly nod, "if he tries to take you away to place you don't want to go, I'll do everything in my power to stop him."
You turn around in the tub, taking Geralt's hand in yours, "thank you."
Chapter 8
Masterlist
#geralt of rivia#geralt#eskel#lambert#coen#vesemir#ciri#rhaenyra targaryen#viserys targaryen#fringilla vigo
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aiden sat on the bench, eyes wide and brow furrowed as he watched. He couldn't even tell what exactly started it. One minute, Lambert and Eskel had been trading barbs, the next they were rolling around on the floor, all elbows and knees. No weapons drawn (yet) but that didn't necessarily mean they wouldn't be. Then Geralt had joined in the fray and Aiden had been fully prepared to jump in to help his wolf fight the other two off, until he noticed the smells surrounding all of them. They smelt…. happy?
There was no scent of anger or annoyance beyond a slight hint when somebody took an elbow to the gut or found themselves momentarily pinned. No scent of blood or pain, even the yips and growls coming from the three of them were more like those a puppy would make in nature; doing it for the joy of having figured out how rather than for actual intimidation. Aiden could only sit and stare. If this were the caravan there'd be at least one gut wound and multiple broken fingers by now.
"Again? Honestly, I leave you boys alone for five minutes." Jaskier hopped up to sit cross-legged on the table top, offering half of his sweet roll to Aiden "What started this one off? Actually, nevermind, I swear half the time they don't need a reason. Wolves, all stoic and serious until you get them together and then they act like oversized kids." The bard seemed to finally notice Aiden's expression and gave him a slight nudge with his foot, "Are you alright? It wasn't because one of them insulted you was it, because if so tell me who and I'll-"
"No. It's just….none of them are hurting one another?"
"Well, why would they want to?"
"Why else would they be fighting?"
Jaskier choked on the roll, "Fighting?! Oh no Darling, they're just playing. I know Witchers age slowly but surely you remember play fighting as a youngster?"
Aiden remembered fighting but there was definitely never anything playful about it. He'd gotten his first broken nose because one of the other older initiates decided they wanted his rations as well as their own, and that was in his first week with the Cats.
"Ok. Wow. I'm guessing from the silence that's a no. What did young Cats do to pass the time then?"
A muffled "Motherfucker" came from a smiling Eskel, who currently had Geralt's knee in the small of his back.
"This, I guess." Aiden gestured at the puppy pile, "Although typically there was more blood and crying"
"What about things like tag?"
"The fuck's tag?"
Jaskier cradled his head in his hands, "Oh Gods I'm not going to like the answer to this am I? Did you ever just, you know, tussle and chase each other or anything like that for the fun of it, no blood or intentional injuries involved?"
Silence.
Jaskier gave a small whimper before calling out, "Lambert, your Cat doesn't know how to play!"
Read the rest here!
#the witcher#the witcher fanfiction#aiden/lambert#lambert x aiden#lambden#lambert/aiden#aiden x lambert#witcher aiden#witcher lambert#lambert
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Soul-bonds & Heartaches
A.N.// reposting this onto a new blog, but hey guys this is a fanfiction I've started writing and I am very excited about it. Let me know if you want the rest of this draft!
Geralt made two claims many years ago. One he did not believe he would ever have to face. And the other he spent years running from. It seemed that fate had made it so he could avoid neither.
Accepting Cirilia's presence in his life has been easy enough, but her? She was too much. A burden.
Andromeda was Cirilia's aunt, although not biological - taken in at a young age by Queen Calanthe she grew up alongside Pavetta, her youth seemingly never fading. See what most of Cintra did not know was Andromeda was an elf, her scarred ears from where her own father hacked off the abominations were proof enough of that. Hoping the pain was worth the safety his daughter would get in return as he sent her towards villages and kingdoms.
It was.
That is until the night of Pavetta's banquet. Geralt made a claim, a claim he hoped with all his heart would not bind itself to another - Pavetta was bound to another so surely claiming the one dearest to Calanthe's heart would result in nothing.
Except it seemed Andromeda had weaseled her way into the heart of the woman who had taken her in, had found comfort in her arms and love in her heart. If destiny would not give him Pavetta, they could give him Andromeda.
Calanthe, Pavetta and Andromeda knew the consequences of his words, as he spoke his claims - their fears worsening as Pavetta's pregant state became public knowledge. They would now face the consequences of their gratitude it seemed.
---
Andromeda had escaped Geralt's existence for almost thirteen years, as far as Geralt was concerned his second claim had no effect and Fate had given him a pass. The only surprise he had to worry about was his Child Surprise. A secret vow, bounding him to the person Calanathe held close to her heart and considered a daughter? That was not his concern at all.
And so, Geralt remained oblivious of her existence until it became too hard to deny.
---
When Geralt had bedded Yennefer, Andromeda felt it, how it tore at her heart and how her soul roiled and burned in its place inside her. The betrayal to the bond and vow he made tying them together punished her for the actions of a man she wanted nothing to do with.
But she was used to it. It would not be the first time she had experienced such pain. So she sat, with Cirilla on one side and Jaskier on the other, her heart sinking in her chest as she forced herself to keep up her cheery charade knowing what was happening behind the closed doors of the inn they were resting at.
Geralt was betraying a woman he had no clue he belonged to.
The pain had subsided, but the feeling of misery only strengthened as she watched Geralt come down the inn stairs with Yennefer at his tail. The two looked perfect together, both warriors in their own image - strong and brave, nothing like she was. She could feel jealousy begin to claw at her throat, the tears slowly beginning to burn her eyes.
Andromeda composed herself, turning away from the duo to face Cirilla instead - "I think I'm going to head to bed."
Cirilla looked up at her in curiosity, knowing Andromeda rarely slept at all, especially during the night. Her fears of the dark outweighed her need to sleep, but as she looked over her shoulders towards Yennefer and Geralt - the two leaning on eachother, engaged in a bout of flirtatious commentary- she nodded her acceptance before agreeing to join her soon. Her aunt needed a moment to herself, and so Cirilla would give her atleast that.
Andromeda pushed herself to her feet, stood there for a moment as she took in a deep breath from her nose, careful to not change her expression. She avoided Jaskier's questioning eyes and breezed passed the distracted duo, unaware of Geralt's trailing eyes and flared nostrils as he scented her - he could hear her heartbeat, it was fast and harsh, but she smelt of the sky when it was about to rain.
As Andromeda made her way up the stairs she made eye contact with a rather slender man who was walking in the opposite direction, he had blue eyes and ginger hair that reached his shoulders, a thick beard decorated his face and scars lined his eyes - one blind and one seeing. But most of all, what caught her attention was the gentle aura about him, his clothes were simple tunics and despite his lumbering size he seemed to be a humble man - everything Geralt was not.
She found herself slowing down in front of him - after all the pain Geralt has caused her seeking his own pleasure, why can she not grant herself this one moment of gratification. Why wait, why save herself for a man who had no care of his own purity or sanctity. Why should she reserve herself, when she could be free like he acted. When she could cause him the pain he had been feeding her for years since he had made his proclamation.
"Hello there," Andromeda's voice had dipped, taking on a sultry tone as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. The coy expression that slid across her face had immediately caught the man's attention, his face heating to match the colour of his hair as he turned to face her - Andromeda's attention only bolstered his confidence as he leaned towards her unconsciously.
"Now who might you be, little lady."
"The best thing that may happen to you tonight," Andromeda laid her hand on his arm, her fingers unconsciously tightening around it as she felt the the muscle that outlined his lean figure. She felt her heart race for a reason that was completely different to jealousy - this was the first time she had given into her desires, and Fortunes did it feel good.
The two continued to flirt, exchanging subtle brushes of skin-on-skin, the man - who she now knew as Elias - tucked hair hair back for her, his fingers trailing her jawline. Until finally, his hand dragged down her shoulder, down her arm until he intertwined his fingers with her own - his head jutted in the direction of the stairs and just like that Andromeda followed his lead.
Unbeknownst to her, and much to the dislike of Yennefer, Geralt had been watching the two ever since she had approached the man, his heart began to thump harshly in agony and anger at the sight of her with another man, at the sound of their hearts whispering to one another, of the smell of his arousal and her excitement. But why?
It did not matter, Geralt gave into Yennefer's pestering and turned her way - accepting the fretted petting and flirtations that came along with it, trying to force his mind off the giggling pair who had escaped to the confines of an inn room.
#geralt x yennefer#geralt of rivera#geralt x you#geralt x ofc#geralt x reader#jaskier#cirilla of cintra#geralt smut#jealousy#pining
75 notes
·
View notes
Note
can i request a dettlaff with another higher vampire? maybe they're friends with regis and/or geralt? thank you!
A/N: These both literally were sent in in 2020 but I was keeping them because I love them and I love Dettlaff and I knew they’d be used one day 🤡🤡 I’m a terrible writer lmao I did change it up just a little but I hope it’s okay! and I um hope the two who sent these in are still around.... cause yeah 2 years....
Warnings: none, fluffy
The Rosemary and Thyme was rambunctious and lively as bards sang and performers dance for the crowd. Every table was crammed full and there was a large group of people dancing closer to the stage.
You were squeezed onto a bench between Dettlaff and Geralt. You were trying your best to contain your excitement, but it was quite difficult. Every now and then, you would find yourself clapping along with the music or even dancing in your seat. Being that the bench you were on was crowded, nearly every movement you made had you bumping into either Geralt or Dettlaff.
“You should go up there to dance, Y/N.” Geralt suggested, nodding to the crowd at the front of the room.
“You’re sittin’ there squirmin’ like you’ve got ants in your trousers.” Zoltan commented from across the table.
“It’s not often that I get to come to events like these.” You explained. “Dettlaff doesn’t enjoy them.”
“He looks like he’s being tortured. The poor sap.” Zoltan shifted his gaze to the higher vampire.
You turned your head to look at your husband.
He wasn’t paying a bit of attention to the bards or the performers. The look that was on his face screamed displeasure and discontent.
“Geralt is right, Y/N.” Regis spoke from the other side of Dettlaff. “You should go dance. You would enjoy it.”
“I would only go if someone joins me.”
Dettlaff could feel your eyes on him.
He shook his head, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“My heart–,”
“It would just be for a few minutes, Dettlaff.”
“And in those few minutes, I would make a fool of myself dancing to this kind of music.”
“Always dramatic, Dettlaff, my love.” You rubbed his arm with a little smile.
A couple minutes later, Priscilla was making her way on to the stage.
You began to cheer for your friend and even going as far as to stand up as you clapped.
“Dettlaff, look!”
“I see who it is, my dear.”
“Clap for her, Dettlaff!”
“Darling, our beloved Dettlaff is an old soul.” Regis put his hand on Dettlaff’s arm. “In every sense of the word.”
You returned to your seat, smoothing out your skirt and then taking a sip of your drink.
“What does that make us?” You raised a brow with a little grin.
“Young and lively, of course. While Dettlaff lives up to his age, we will never be older than one-hundred-and-twenty.”
“I like the sound of that.” You giggled.
***
The night seemed to be over far too soon. You enjoyed the time spent with friends. Stories and drinks were shared, and there were many laughs.
After parting ways with everyone, you and Dettlaff began to walk by yourselves towards the inn you would be staying at.
With your arm hooked around his elbow, you leaned against him.
“Did you enjoy tonight?” You looked over at him.
“I always enjoy my nights spent with you.” He smiled tenderly at you. “Did you?”
“I had a fantastic evening.” You nodded. “The only thing that would have made it better would have been dancing with my husband.”
“Well, I don’t think that is something I can help you with.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You know very well I don’t dance, especially not to that music.”
“You are so picky about what music you dance to.” You came to a stop and made him turn to face you. “I guess I will have to employ an orchestra from Toussaint to follow us around so that you will dance with me whenever I please.”
“Oh, I don’t think that is how that works.”
“Why not?” You giggled. “If I make sure we have the right music, why can’t we dance?”
“I only dance for you and you alone, my heart.”
“You really know how to charm me, don’t you?”
“I’ve had plenty of time to learn.” Large hands slipped around your waist and drew you in closer to him.
“We need to do this more often.” You kissed his cheek and then his lips. “Once a week.”
“I think once a decade is enough for me.”
“Oh, Dettlaff!” You groaned, pulling away from him to continue walking down the street. “You really are an old soul.”
“I know, my heart.”
Taglist: @samuraigrl89 @burningcoffeetimetravel @open--till--midnight @beautifulsweetschaos @gm_abbo @thefirelordm @here4thespice @many-fandoms-lover @one-eyed-captain-kinky @sparrowsparadise @bluscryn @blushingskywalker @buckysxgal @lady-of-glass-and-bone @super-calithehamm @invelda @eddyofthetruth @hc-geralt-23 @persephonehemingway @adhdhufflepuff @Purple-Tsuki @bitquirkydoe
If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(
#dettlaff x reader#dettlaff van der eretein#dettlaff van der eretein x reader#dettlaff x reader fluff#dettlaff#higher vampire x reader#higher vampire#kacey answers#queenxxxsupreme
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
Insurrection - Chapter Two
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader
Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Fanfiction
Warnings: None that I can think of but let me know if I need to add any!
Ask to be added to my Insurrection taglist!
♡♡♡
Y/N walked to the Town Hall with determination in her eyes.
Everyone knew not to mess with her when she had that look on her face, especially when the man who was practically her uncle was risking his life every day to be a spy on the inside.
She entered the hall with the boy hot on her trail and walked through the room, seeing Josiah looking at the map on the table in front of him.
"Which of our spies was caught? Was it Sir Elliot?" She asked with fear clear in her voice.
Josiah moved his eyes away from the map, watching the young woman approach. He stiffened up when he saw the determined look in her eyes.
"No, my brother is perfectly fine." He had hesitation in his voice that Y/N caught onto in an instant.
"Then who was it?" She needed to know.
"It was Kaia." He gave in, a scared look in his eyes as her jaw slacked open.
"You sent one of the Fae to be a servant to Evelyn? Have you gone mad in your old age?" She snapped, beginning to pace back and forth.
"She volunteered, Y/N! It's not like we had much of a choice! There are few here that present as human." He defended his actions and she turned to him.
"She has wings, Josiah, wings that resemble an Emperor Butterfly. They don't just disappear." She tilted her head back.
"Sir Elliot will find a way to help her. You have to stay focused on the plans." He told her, pointing at the map in front of him.
"Well, you are doing things behind my back won't help me stay focused. We're supposed to be a team. Everyone here depends on us to bring the Revolution to life. We have to work together to make it a reality; there's too much at stake for us to be doing things behind each other's backs." She watched as Josiah dropped his head in shame.
"I know and I'm sorry. I thought it was the right call at the time, she did get some good information to Sir Elliot before she was caught, we had received an update letter from him." He placed a finger on the letter that sat on the table next to the map.
The change of subject was quick, and Y/N walked over to where the letter sat, "One thing I remember about living in the castle, secrets were never secret when shared with a servant. Did she find anything of help?"
"Some, like when a large shipment is coming into the castle." He said and she perked up.
"How large? Large enough to sneak in an army?" She asked and he nodded.
"In two weeks. We need to begin preparations and planning." He said and straightened out his back, "I heard Mack caught himself a Witcher."
She sighed, "The man doesn't listen to me when I tell him to keep his traps away from the trail. Ashton brought him and his Bard friend to the village, I left them at the Tavern."
"I've heard stories, he is very powerful. What if the Queen sent him to kill us all?"
Y/N sighed, of course the thought had slipped into her mind, but she wanted to hold some hope, "He seemed to not know of the Revolution to begin with, plus his Bard friend seems like the kind of man to make things slip. I doubt they are going to bring us harm."
"Then have you asked him to join us?" Josiah gripped the table.
"What would a Witcher gain from helping us? There isn't enough money in the kingdom to pay him to join us. He is just staying for a night to rest up and he will be gone in the morning." She said standing up straight.
"There's no harm in asking, Y/N/N, plus we need all the help we can get to fight off the knights."
"No, Josiah, we won't be asking the Witcher for help and that is final." She stood up straight, "I just hope Kaia finds her way back to us safely."
"Kaia is smart and can shrink down to look as if she were a Butterfly herself," Josiah reminded her as he sits down in his chair.
"I still worry about her." She said quietly, "I'm going to find Mack and yell at him about his traps, again."
"I'll send Percy after you again if I need you." He said gesturing to his son, who was the boy that grabbed her from the Tavern.
She nodded, turning around and walking away from the table and back outside where the children were running around, playing games with wooden swords.
"Oh, children! You aren't holding your swords correctly!" Y/N called to them, gesturing for them to crowd around her, one of the girls handed her the wooden sword.
"You need to have a firm grip, your hand wrapping around it completely," She started to explain, holding out the faux weapon for them to see, "Then you must make sure your feet are spread at two feet apart for balance and security; you try."
The children held up their weapons, slowly tapping their swords together, standing as she once did.
The smile that stretched across her face was wide in triumph, "Perfect! Remember what I showed you earlier, kids." She left the children to play, spotting Mack sneaking his way into the tavern, most likely to attempt to avoid Y/N’s wrath.
"Got you," She mumbled as she started back down the path toward the Tavern, speeding through the village and entering the Tavern once again.
She scanned the building, her eyes landing on Mack, who had found a table with his hunting buddies. She stood up straight and started walking over there, one of his friends noticed her approaching and stiffened up.
"Mack," She said earning a yelp from the man himself, "Why did two men come into the village with a story explaining that they got caught in a hunting trap when I have said to each of you, time and time again, to keep your traps away from the path?"
The man turned around nervously, looking up at the woman innocently, "Well, Y/N, I have a perfectly good explanation for that," He started playing with his chubby fingers awkwardly, "You see, the trees by the path are cut at the branches and those branches hold the traps better than the other ones in the forest -" He's cut off by Y/N whipping her dagger out and stabbing it into the table right in between his fingers.
"There is a reason that I told you, men, to not put the traps by the path. Not only does it potentially cause harm to unsuspecting civilians, but it also puts the Insurrection at risk of exposure!" She snapped, too much had happened in the last hour, and she needed to get her point across, "Evelyn has her Knights going through the woods searching for us and any magical being they could get their hands on and when they notice that you are an Elf, they will not hesitate to take you away!"
She paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself, "You are a skilled hunter, Mack, and I do trust your word with the trees, but I cannot risk losing anyone else. That goes for everyone. Do we understand each other?"
Mack nodded, "I know, Y/N, you're just looking out for us." He says watching her pull the dagger out from the table.
"Good, I will be in my room if I am needed." She paused, looking around, "Please don't need me for anything."
With a few swift motions, she was out of the Tavern once more, unaware of one man's lingering gaze.
♡♡♡
Her room is on the second floor of the Town Hall, originally built for Sir Elliot before he went off on his own accord to be a spy in the castle after the declaration of the Princess' unfortunate death.
Josiah's room is direct across from hers. He merely uses the room as a private space to do work since he built a small home for his wife and son on the outskirts of the Village. His dedication to the cause only grew stronger when his second child was born not long after Y/N joined the Insurrection.
Y/N put all of her time and energy into the revolution, making it stronger and hopeful, even though her hope had been fading.
The news about the shipment was promising and she just couldn't keep her mind off of it so late into the evening she sat at a table in her room and drafted out the plot to infiltrate the castle.
A few knocks on the door could be heard throughout the room, though Y/N's gaze didn't leave her plan in front of her, "You may enter."
The door opened with a creak and Y/N looked up to meet Ashton's eyes, "You look like you could use some company, friend." The woman said, stepping into her room with a small smile.
"I wouldn't mind it." She chuckled, putting her quill down on the desk in front of her.
"Today has been a day." Ashton inquired, sitting on the edge of her bed.
"You've got that right. There's a Witcher in our village. Have you gotten him, and the Bard settled in the Inn?"
The brunette nodded slowly, "I have, they send their thanks for your hospitality. They spoke with Josiah as well; I wish I had eavesdropped."
Y/N let out a deep chuckle, "Ashton, your wandering ears will get you in trouble one day; you're worse than a castle servant."
The girl scoffed, shaking her head, "How dare you?" She teased, a light smile on her face. "I'm more thinking about Kaia. I do hope she's alright."
She gave her friend a reassuring smile, "The Fae has face worse and overcame it, this is no different."
Ashton tensed up, "But this time she is faced with a wicked Queen."
"Who is merely a human, Ashton," The girl turned back to her planning as an idea popped into her head, "Evelyn may have power in the kingdom, but she is weak compared to the Fae." She knew how powerful Kaia could be, she had witnessed it when she first joined.
Ashton was now silent, which was quite rare for the woman, which caught her attention again.
"What is wrong, Ashton? You can tell me anything." Y/N stood from her chair and stepped towards the bed, looking down at the older girl.
"I fear that I have fallen in love with the Fae..." she paused, looking away from her friend in fear of how she would react.
Y/N just gave her a soft look, wrapping her arms around her friend, staying silent as Ashton continued to speak.
"She'll never know how I truly feel. Before she left the Village to go to the Castle, she told me that she had her heart set on coming back to me...and I never told her the same." The confession left her lips and she leaned into Y/N’s embrace.
"I have faith that she will return. If her heart is set on it; then it will happen." She whispered into the other girl's ear as sobs left Aston’s mouth.
Nothing is fair in love and war.
#the witcher#Witcher#witcher imagines#witcher fanfiction#witcher fluff#geralt imagine#geralt x reader#femreader#geralt of rivia#rottenroyalebooks#rottenwrites
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yenralt drabbles & ficlets recs
All my faves, under 300 words basically. Because short fics are tough to write and some of y'all are incredible at it. Plus I have a soft spot for shorter fics honestly. So here goes! @yenraltcommentfest
All Eyes On Us by @sassaffrassa
rated M | 100 words | AO3
Geralt’s not gonna be the one to tell Yennefer that there’s no privacy at Kaer Morhen— and not only from the living witchers there.
(Though really he should)
Air by @eatingcroutons
rated E | 100 words | AO3
Yen tries something new with Geralt.
Mine by glevissig
rated E | 100 words | AO3
Yennefer shows Geralt who he belongs to.
Childhood Dreams by GeorgettedelaRose
rated E | 100 words | AO3
Yennefers interest for unicorns began at a very young age…
Destiny by @emma-ofnormandy
rated T | 100 words | AO3
He knew all along.
Time for Breakfast by Red Eyes Black Scythe (VisceraNight)
rated T | 129 words | AO3
Yennefer wakes Geralt up early and tells him it's time for breakfast.
kiss in the rain by mayoho
rated G | 200 words | AO3
In which I played a trope completely straight and Yennefer is happy for one long stretching moment.
Hers by BlueNeutrino
rated T | 200 words | AO3
Tag to “The Last Wish” short story. Yennefer hasn’t stopped listening to Geralt’s heart.
not yet (not yet) by AceMoppet
rated G | 207 words | AO3
She can't trust this.
Proof of life by @heytheredeann
rated G | 271 words | AO3
“It’s okay,” he says, only moments after waking up from his light sleep. “It’s okay, I’m okay. Go back to sleep.”
confess to the stars by @witcheryen
rated G | 291 words | AO3
Geralt and Yennefer have never said the words out loud.
me and my husband by owolias
rated G | 298 words | AO3
Geralt is pregnant and Yennefer loves him. That's it.
smell by @finnicks
rated T | 300 words | AO3
Geralt notices Yennefer’s stopped smelling of lilacs and gooseberries.
note: most of these authors have more drabbles/ficlets, be sure to check them out! it was hard to choose only one.
ps: if you like drabbles (smutty or not), be sure to check out (and join!) @smubbles-etc it's fun and sexy and 100 words exactly ;)
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rec List 2: The Witcher
- Meet Death Sitting by bomberqueen17
“No,” Jaskier sighed. “This is the thing, Geralt. I’m middle-aged and tired and I just think I’d rather meet death sitting down and facing it rather than from behind while I’m running. You know?” He contemplated that a moment, and finally added, “Especially if it’s you.”
Set after the end of season 1.
8/8 Completed, 46,086 words
- there's no plan, there's no kingdom to come by vachement
Jaskier was pretty sure he was dying. That, or Yennefer and Geralt were planning to murder him and sell his dismembered corpse on the black market, and they were buttering him up so that he wouldn’t fight back.
Okay, so maybe the second option was on the wrong side of absurdity, but Jaskier firmly believed that something was up.
There was no other reason, after all, for the two to be so nice to him.
Oneshot, 3,690 words
- the falcon cannot hear by FandomTrash24601
He may not like Yennefer, but he doesn’t want to be more of a burden than he’s been already. If he can convince them that he’s good, that he’s great, that he’s ready to take on the world once more, then he can be out of their hair. He’s just an imposition on the perfect little family they’ve got going on, and no matter how he feels he’s not going to homewreck them. Not when there’s a young princess involved.
Title from the poem The Second Coming, by William Butler Yeats
Oneshot, 14,317 words
- Misadventure by kathkin
“I adore you,” says Jaskier.
“Yeah, I know,” says Geralt. “That’s your problem."
Oneshot, 638 words
- hope it's nice where you are by K9_DFTBA
“It’s been such a long time, Julian. When will you be over him?”
Jaskier’s laugh, muffled and humorless, followed the question.
“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
“I don’t enjoy seeing you hurting.”
“I’m fine. Most of the time.”
“Most of the time,” Valdo echoed, and then, “oh, fuck.”
The progress bar stopped.
Error loading. Tap to retry?
Geralt tapped.
This video is unavailable.
After Jaskier goes viral for being a pining mess during a livestream, Geralt’s family tries to figure out exactly why the couple broke up, given that Jaskier is clearly still in love with Geralt. Meanwhile, Geralt is in denial, Jaskier is absolutely fine, thanks, and the internet is having a bit of a breakdown.
8/8 Completed, 25,931 words
- snowdrop by sage (lemontongues)
Jaskier prepares to leave Kaer Morhen after the battle with Voleth Meir.
Oneshot, 4,608 words
- Stone Heart by ladyflowdi
The song comes to him in its entirety, as Rience snips the sinews in his legs like sewing thread.
Oneshot, 8,539 words
- A Decade In The Sun by Literate_Wolverine
“You’d like us to be intimate then?” Geralt inquired earnestly. Jaskier nearly choked on his spit.
“We’re married, aren’t we?”
“Plenty of married couples would rather clean gutters than see each other bare. And you have that tavern girl of yours, from the village-- hush, that’s not an admonishment. I just assumed you’d been… put up for auction, when a groom was requested in the place of a bride. That you had no earnest, physical interest in men. Or if you did, that I was out of your age bracket. Which is acceptable. I have less than no interest in traumatizing you, or anyone, with my attentions.”
It was beginning to sink in for Jaskier that maybe, just maybe, he had in fact been joined in holy matrimony with a perfectly lovely man.
Oneshot, 14,334 words
- boogie nights by spqr
“This isn’t nothing.” His eyebrows draw together. “Jaskier. What happened?”
Jaskier fists his hands in his own hair and contemplates pulling it out. “I got shot.”
“Shot,” Geralt echoes, in a tone Jaskier’s never heard before.
“Only a bit,” Jaskier hedges. “I took some vicodin, it’s perfectly fine. I can hardly feel it.”
Oneshot, 8,815 words
- when one there are none by foxwedding
Jaskier's living high in the lap of luxury when Geralt barrels back into his life. The bard's been playing court songbird to one of Redania's higher marquises, delighting sheltered nobles with ballads of the countryside and general plight of the common folk.
Then Geralt and Yennefer arrive and Jaskier becomes aware that something might be deeply wrong.
Pre-Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer
Oneshot, 10,386 words
#the witcher#fanfic recs#witcher fic recs#witcher fic#jaskier#geralt#geralt of rivera#geralt witcher#jaskier witcher#yennefer#yennefer witcher#jaskier x geralt#jaskier x yennefer#jaskier x yennefer x geralt#geralt x yennefer#angst#torture#smut#fluff#modern au
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
Sending for the “thoughts on __” ask meme! Dunno if you've written about this before, but what are your thoughts on Geralt's and Cahir's relationship?
overall: cahir is the lancer of the five-man band, a foil to geralt, the leader. geralt's bitter age is contrasted with cahir's naive youth. we can even see it in their white/black hair. they both initially wished to do good and be heroic, as geralt wanted to save people from monsters (see voice of reason part 4) and cahir wanted to win honor for and defend his family (see lady of the lake chapter 9) but they quickly learned this world is not one for a hero.
they both embody nobility and are two different inversions of the idea of a 'knight in shining armor' - this is even more apparant when geralt is knighted by queen meve, and also they arrive in toussaint and geralt begins to spend time with reynart.
in baptism of fire: i love their rocky, difficult relationship. i love how bloodthirsty and antagonistic geralt is towards cahir throughout the book because of how they become 'brothers in arms' (as in the dire straits song, as quoted by sapkowski at the beginning of the book) in the end. but it makes me love geralt for his defense of ciri, still seeing cahir as a threat to her, holding her nightmares against him, because of how much he loves his daughter, he wants to absolutely wring cahir's neck with both his hands, when he speaks of him he grits his teeth so much that sparks fly, and when he spits, it hisses! (as milva describes him in chapter 5).
but geralt's inability to kill cahir reminds me of how sensitive and tied to humanity geralt is at his core, because despite his own hatred for cahir, he cannot bring himself to kill him... he, who is, after all, just a terrified young man himself not more than twenty-five! i love that in the fish soup scene in chapter 5, cahir offers geralt a knife from his boot in order to peel the vegetables, and geralt has no choice but to accept. it's symbolic of their broader situation, and also - it's just funny.
in the end they hold the bridge over the yaruga together, united... that scene and its prose is utterly gorgeous. and again - brothers in arms!
additionally, i think it's amusing how cahir is greatly amazed by geralt's ability to deflect arrows, as he defends dandelion:
in tower of the swallow: i'm not a fan (to put it mildly) of how cahir reveals that he's attracted to ciri... and that somehow, this is put within a bonding moment between geralt and cahir. i won't go into depth now about why i dislike this, i wrote this post a long time ago but a tl;dr is that cahir already has more than enough character motivation to join the company, become loyal to ciri, renounce nilfgaardian allegience, etc., 'turn towards the light,' as it were. he doesn't have to be in romantic love with her to do any of these things, he's already a complete character with depth!... and moreover... it's creepy :)! don't be in love with a child you kidnapped at the age of 11-12!
otherwise... getting that out of the way... i love how their relationship develops over the tower of the swallow. i initially felt like, and sometimes still do feel like, the climax of chapter 7 of baptism of fire felt so final and absolute of a united company that any distrust between them should have already been eliminated by this point and that sapkowski was padding for time by creating more drama... but the storytelling which resulted from it was enjoyable and beautiful, so i don't care. also, to argue with myself, it's not really implausible, because we know how much geralt loves ciri, and it's only expected that he would hold a grudge and wariness against cahir until he could be absolutely certain of his loyalty.
i love how geralt flies into a pointless rage against schirru, how angouleme has to call his name to get him to stop, and the trouble they land in because of geralt's unbridled seething, seeing red, hatred against any who dare harm ciri... ring a bell? and because of his lack of restraint, cahir is injured terribly and he has to look out for him. and it would have been so easy for geralt to kill him, or even kill him and lie about it to the rest of the company - sorry guys, cahir died of shock and fever, whoopsies... but what kind of person would that have made geralt? the thought did not even cross his mind, despite threatening his life without condition in the previous book, and accusing him of treachery just a chapter ago. it blends with the themes of humility and sacrifice of tower of the swallow - what's more humble than tending to the life of someone you just accused of being your enemy?
i love how cahir talks about his fear during the massacre of cintra. after all, it was his first time seeing war, as well, and he was groomed into soldierhood... confessing that a soldier does not question orders, he had no idea why they wanted a princess... it blends so, so well with the fact that earlier in chapter 6, we learn that the local banditry have teamed with the nilfgaardian invaders, the colorful piecemeal armor and black armor forming one wall - we learn that banditry and the state are not dissimilar at all, actively functioning as one! and it blends well with angouleme also being a defector, being from banditry, nightingale's hanza...!
he describes how he was not a hero, how he almost lost his mind and broke under pressure, that they found him running around senselessly crying like a wolf until his superiors tied him up. that he was not a winner over the loss of ciri. no one won. no one wins in war.
in lady of the lake: i love how cahir comes to toussaint and begins to, within the company, speak a little bit of his own and venture from his carefully constructed soldier's script. in baptism of fire, he "remains tactfully silent," he often does not speak in order to avoid geralt's ire, and he is polite, really only contributing in the broader company when he has a way to demonstrate his intelligence and worth. but in lady of the lake, he speaks out, he acts like... a normal young man. you can practically hear his eyeroll when he comments in chapter 3 that they must tell geralt, when he's not busy, when he tells geralt to his face "look who's talking!" when geralt comments that they've been idle in toussaint for too long. he's truly become part of the company, interjecting before the malheur pass that the horse tracks are probably that of an ibex, or moufflon... before angouleme mocks him in an absolutely siblinglike manner that he is a moufflon himself!
they really grow with one another and the trajectory of their character arcs cannot be imagined without one another. the company without cahir would not be a company, and geralt would not have had to face the repercussions of his character flaws. cahir on his own would not have survived, much less become a different person with completely challenged and changed morals and allegiences.
can y'all send some asks that are like “thoughts on __” (ask meme)
#c: cahir#c: geralt#the witcher books#ask#anon#book: baptism of fire#book: tower of the swallow#book: lady of the lake#ask memes
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Act of Kindness
Written for @thepassifloradiscord character roulette! I got Nenneke. I have never written her before and this totally goes against all lore... but I don't care. It's fun!
Have some Geralt and Nenneke first meeting!
_
Geralt was still reeling from his first monster. Monsters, Men... who could really tell the difference? One man's love was another's mortal enemy, and Geralt felt lost. His dreams of becoming a knight, a saviour to humanity were crumbling in his hands. After years of brutal training, Geralt had been excited to step out on the path, guided by his own moral compass... but now North seemed to be spiralling around him and he didn't know what to do.
Maybe that is why his feet led him to the Temple of Melitele.
He wasn't a man of faith at all... but without Vesemir he was hoping someone, anyone, would be able to offer him some guidance.
When he arrived at the temple, he was greeted by a young lady, barely eighteen if he had to guess. She was dressed in long flowing robes, with a book tucked under her arm. Her black hair was plaited behind her back and she smiled warmly at him. It was the kindest gesture Geralt had received in months… maybe years.
“Welcome, witcher, to the Temple of Melitele. If you could remove your swords and other weapons, you can join us inside. To be quite frank, you stink. I will have a bath drawn up for you.”
“Thank you,” Geralt nodded, giving a stiff bow. “What shall I call you?”
“Nenneke. I am a priestess-in-training here at the temple… just as I dare say you’re a witcher-in-training? I’ve never seen one so young.” Her eyes sparkled as she cocked her head.
It was strange, despite her clearly young age, Geralt felt like she was wise beyond her years. She was only a little older than he was, but after spending his childhood in Kaer Morhen with only Vesemir as a sort of father figure… Geralt felt nearly desperate to replace the mother he’d once lost.
“My first year,” he agreed, his cheeks warming slightly.
“Blessed Melitele, it’s a tragedy what they put you through. Children! If I could have a word with your masters…” her voice trailed off in an unanswered question.
“Geralt. Geralt… of Rivia.” The last part still felt foreign on his tongue, but he supposed he should get used to it.
“If I could have a word with your masters, I would beat them all over the head with a broom!”
The passion in her words surprised him. This was a stranger, an unknown. The kindness that radiated from her was greater than from those Geralt had known his entire life… greater than his own flesh and blood. From his brief time on the path, Geralt had learnt that there was no love in the hearts of strangers - not for witchers.
And yet this woman, this priestess of Melitele, was defying all his expectations.
He grinned, the first real smile he’d managed in months. “That’s a bit violent for a woman of faith isn’t it?”
“My gods would forgive me, my intentions are pure,” Nenneke laughed, winking at Geralt as she ushered him into the Temple. “But she wouldn’t forgive me if I let you leave here without a bath, some hot food, and a good night’s rest. Come now, Geralt of Rivia. Let’s not dally any longer.”
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
What’s the premise of ‘Witcher fic’? This is very mysterious 👀
Well for context, I didn't join the fandom until after season 2, and I wanted more fic that focused on Dadralt and that leaned into the canon relationships as they are by the end of that season (although I did still go for Geraskier, I just made that a new development in the fic). So it's just a family dynamic fic set about a year out from the finale to give me everything I wanted 😇
This is probably not actually going to see the light of day so I'm sticking two different snippets behind the cut.
“I know you have to keep her safe, of course you do. But she’s also growing and you’ll need to give her a bit more independence now and then. I mean goodness, she’s nearly the age I was when I met you!”
“What?”
Geralt turned around in his arms so quickly he managed to shrug Jaskier off. He scooted further back against the wall to get a look at Geralt now that they were face to face.
“Yes, I was 18, I think, so hard to keep track of dates when you’re on the road. But no older than 19 when we first met in Posada.”
Geralt frowned.
“No you weren’t.”
“What do you mean no I wasn’t?” Jaskier laughed. “I know I just said it’s hard to keep track of dates, but I know my own birthday.”
“That’s too young,” Geralt insisted. “You weren’t a child.”
“...No, I wasn’t? Because you’re not a child at 18?”
Geralt was looking at him, brow furrowed like he wanted to disagree, so Jaskier cut him off at the pass.
***
“Why is he so much more open with you than me?” Jaskier sighed, insecurities out in full force and too mopey to bother hiding it.
“Because I literally cannot leave him. He had one wish from the djinn, a wish he could use to do anything he wanted. And he chose to bind a person he barely knew to him. Me,” she added, as though Jaskier could ever forget. “You, however, are terribly free to take one look at that mess of a man and turn high tail and never return.”
“That’s ridiculous and insulting. My god, it’s been years – it’s been my entire adult life I’ve devoted to that man. How is that not enough?”
“I know that,” she soothed. “But Geralt’s whole life has been about abandoning people before they can abandon him. You shouldn’t be surprised that it’s one step forward, two steps back. He’s known isolation and abandonment and rejection for decades longer than you’ve been alive.”
Jaskier huffed but settled back down against her shoulder, relaxing further when she resumed stroking his hair.
“Fine. But Gods, between Ciri’s moods and Geralt’s… can you believe we’re the two most emotionally mature people in this family?”
Yen turned to look at him, an eyebrow cocked.
“Gods help us, we won’t survive the winter,” she said before they both burst into peals of laughter.
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don’t Forget About Me (Part 1)
Geralt x Reader
My first ever imagine. Please send me constructive criticism. I’m super embarrassed that people will read this. I hope you enjoy it though! Even if you think it sucks I hope you at least get a good laugh!
This was also done on mobile so sorry for the format.
_____________________________________________
It had been four years since Y/N had joined Geralt and Jaskier on their adventures and every moment of it had been pure bliss. It seemed like every turn in the road revealed something even more exciting than the last. Y/N grew up in a small town, born into a family of five. Being the middle child, she had been what seemed like nearly forgotten. Day after day she had worked in the family inn with the knowledge that it would be that way for the rest of her life. But even at the age of 21, though it seemed like nothing was going to change, she still yearned for adventure, still longed to see what the world looked like outside of her village. When a large brooding male one day walked into her family's inn, covered in what looked like grime from his travels, she knew that he was her way out. And now there they were. It took several years for Geralt to finally soften towards Y/N, with the help of Jaskier of course, and express how much he cared for the young woman. It had since been the three of them, the two lovebirds and their best friend. Y/N had never been happier… until the week when an old flame from Geralt’s past made an appearance. Yennefer.
Y/N silently trailed her love and the woman holding his attention, Jeskier sending worried glances her way. It had been a week of this. Where normally she would be happily prancing alongside the large male, only releasing his hand to investigate new sights around the trail, she was following behind whilst he excitedly talked with Yennefer. To say she was hurt was an understatement. She had never felt such heartache. This first appeared as guilt. Guilt for feeling like she was clingy, and in constant need of Geralt’s attention. After several days, doubt and insecurity started to settle in. Did Geralt love her? Or was she just company while he waited for his real twin flame? At night, she would settle into their shared pile of blankets, waiting for him to join her, though she always fell asleep before he left Yenefer’s side to sleep next to her. Jaskier tried his best to assure her that Geralt was just excited about seeing an old friend again, but Y/N couldn’t seem to shake her doubt.
Arriving at the inn they were travelling to was such a relief, Y/N could barely hold back tears. She needed the privacy to finally release the heart wrenching sobs she had been holding in. The second Geralt placed their room key in her palm, muttering something about joining her after some drinks with Yennefer, she took off, not catching the look of surprise passing over Geralt’s face. The moment she shut their room’s door behind her, a choked sob left her mouth. The ache in her chest grew as she imagined Geralt laughing with Yen, not missing her presence at all. Hours passed and after bathing and tying her hair back in a braid, Y/N slipped into the soft, warm bed. Though the warmth was of little comfort– it felt empty without Geralt. These thoughts only brought more tears to her eyes. Y/N let out a soft gasp and shut her eyes to appear as if she was sleeping when she heard the door creak open.
“Y/N, I know you’re awake. It’s just me.” She popped one puffy eye open at the sound of Jaskier’s voice. He made his way across the room and settled on top of the blankets next to her.
“Is everything alright?“ Y/N asked as she sat up quickly, worry blossoming in her chest. Images of everything that could possibly be going wrong downstairs flew through her mind.
“Everything’s fine, although I’m worried about you, Y/N.” Jaskier’s eyes met hers with the intensity only a caring friend could carry. She could hear the concern in his voice, which made her eyes well up once more. A small sob left her lips and she threw herself into his arms.
“You’re okay, I’m here.” He comforted her, holding her close to him. Y/N couldn’t put into words how grateful she was for her best friend. The two of them were inseparable. Both filling the roles of trouble-maker in Geralt’s life, they had become fast friends and a team.
“He wants her. He’s going to leave me behind for her.” Having her insecurities fall out of her mouth made her relax, but shortly after she felt the reality of her words sink in. “I’m going to be alone again…” Y/N’s voice broke. The true fear of feeling once again the way she had felt in her hometown crushed her. Eventually, her sobs stopped and she went completely silent. Her heart was racing and burning cold shivers shot up her body.
“You’re okay. He loves you so much, Y/N, he’s just caught up in reminiscing. You know that he needs you just as much as you need him. And besides, I’m not going anywhere. Whatever would I do without you to help me irritate the shit out of Geralt?” He elbowed Y/N softly at the last bit. Y/N looked up at her best friend and gave him a watery smile.
“Thank you Jaskier.” She wished she could put into words how much her friend meant to her, but in that moment a simple thank you was all she could muster.
The two of them quickly turned their heads towards the door as it was flung open to reveal Geralt. He was clearly intoxicated as his cheeks were flushed and he held a lazy smile on his face. His eyes shifted between the two of them before landing on Y/N’s tear stained face. His smile immediately dropped and concern lit his eyes.
“Alright, I’m going to call it a night. You know where to find me.” Jaskier softly stated as he rose from Y/N’s side. She watched as he whispered something to Geralt. Geralt gave him a nod of thanks and only started towards her once the door had shut.
“Are you alright my dear?” He cautiously started, staggering over to the bed. His soft words sent a pain through her chest.
“Yes. I must just be overtired from our travels!” She pushed her voice to sound much more chipper than she was feeling. Geralt studied her for a moment, his face revealing how little he believed her.
“Are you sure? I’m here if you need me, always.” She wanted to scoff at his words, but was far too timid to do so.
“Yes, Geralt, I’m fine. I just want to sleep. I’m exhausted. Is that okay?“ he sighed at her words knowing she was shutting him out. But he didn’t want to push her, in fear of her completely shutting down.
“Of course. I’m going to wash up and then I will join you.” He watched her for another moment before slowly moving towards the attached room which held a bath. Before he returned, Y/N was fast asleep.
The following morning Y/N awoke to the sun shining through the window. Soft sun beams landed on her face, making her squint. She laid there watching the dust particles float in the air, listening closely to the sound of people talking and laughing in the cavern below her. The sheer normalcy of it spread a smile across her face.
“Good morning, my dear.” Geralt’s arm tightened around her waist.
“Good morning.” She softly replied. However, her joy was short-lived as she remembered who slept in the room beside them. She found herself shifting away and scurrying toward the bathroom. In the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Geralt sitting up in bed, watching as she hurried away.
By the time she was done in the bathroom he had left their room, most likely getting ready to deal with why they were in this town to begin with. Geralt had been hired to deal with a nasty kikimore that had wandered uncharacteristically close to town. Y/N had never seen one in person, but had heard the stories Geralt shared about his time in swamps. She cringed at the thought.
Sighing, she gathered all of her things and prepared to head downstairs to the cavern where she knew her group would be waiting. The plan was to take care of the kikimore on their way out of town and then continue towards their end goal of Kaer Morhen. Geralt had often mentioned how excited he was to introduce Y/N to Vesemire. The memory warmed her chest and gave her a small boost of confidence to walk towards her friends and lover. As she neared, Geralt’s eyes met hers. She sent a soft smile his way and sat next to him.
“I love you.” he whispered, his breath fanning across her ear. It was rare for him to show affection in public unless he was making a statement as to who Y/N belonged to. No other men would bother her after the Witcher made the message obvious.
“I love you too.” Y/N smiled up at him. She could feel Yennefer’s gaze on her from across the table as they shared the moment. But she wouldn’t let it bother her. Not today. She did, however, glance over to meet Jaskier’s stare. He was smiling at her. She smiled back and rolled her eyes as he mouthed, “I told you so”.
The group quickly finished breakfast and headed out towards the stable to collect Roach. Y/N smiled as she pulled a few pieces of fruit from breakfast out of her pocket. Whenever they stayed at an inn she was sure to bring Roach a treat. Roach whinnied at her approach and bobbed her head up and down in delight.
“Clearly she has a new favourite.” Yennefer’s voice wiped the smile from Y/N’s face. She pushed past Y/N and started petting Roach, staring at Y/N down the bridge of her nose. Though her words weren’t intentionally hurtful, Y/N couldn’t stop her mind from thinking through all the times Yennefer had most likely done the same as Y/N. After all, she had once travelled with Geralt and had known him for much longer. Y/N quietly passed the fruit over to Yennefer, who looked surprised.
“She likes it best if you don’t mix the fruit when you feed it to her. Give them to her one at a time.” Y/N softly explained and walked away. She decided to wait at the stable entrance for everyone to be ready to leave. Jaskier soon joined her and stood with her silently. He didn’t need to say anything for Y/N to understand he was there to give her comfort. Y/N let out a slow breath before turning towards where Geralt looked to be having a rather intense conversation with Yennefer.
“Did you say something to him?” Y/N accused.
“I just mentioned that Yennefer was getting a little too close for anyone’s comfort,” Jaskier defended himself. Y/N couldn’t help but lean into him, hoping that he understood her gratitude. “Besides, I don’t like how she treats you. The sooner he gets sick of her and tells her to leave the better.” Jaskier leaned back into Y/N. “I should write a song about this. What would I title it?” At that, Y/N turned sharply to jab him in the side. The two of them continued playfully bickering until Geralt made his way towards them, leading Roach with Yen in tow. Y/N couldn’t argue that the two of them looked good together. Yennefer was beautiful, with her thick dark hair, feminine curves and not to mention how powerful and intelligent she was. She and the white-haired Witcher would be a perfect match. An unstoppable couple. Insecurity came creeping back in. Y/N watched Geralt turn to send a small nod to Yennefer. In that moment Y/N knew that if being with Yen meant Geralt was happy then she would step aside. There was nothing she wanted more than to ensure that Geralt was happy. And it would kill her to be the one in the way of it.
After several hours of walking, Geralt finally stopped.
“We are near,” He stated, sending a chill down Y/N’s spine. This was one creature she did not want to come face to face with. “We will set up camp at the side of the road here. I’ll be back before nightfall.” Geralt commanded. Yennifer and Jaskier slowly moved over to where Geralt had referred to and started setting up camp.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” Y/N turned to face the Witcher as he spoke.
“Please be careful. I don’t want to spend my night sewing you up.” She joked. He smiled down at her and moved closer to wrap his arms around her smaller body.
“I love you.” He muttered against her hair.
“And I love you.” She reached up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. They stood together for a moment, appreciating each other's company. Though Geralt had left her at camp many times to do just this, it never made it easier. Y/N was always left with the fear that he wouldn't return. Much too soon, Geralt pulled away, gave her hand a squeeze, and started walking in the opposite direction. He slowed for a moment to call over his shoulder,
“Yen, are you coming?”
Y/N’s heart dropped into her stomach. She couldn't help but stare in shock, unaware this was part of the plan. While she trusted Geralt to be alone with Yennefer, she didn’t trust Yen. She also couldn’t help but feel hurt that while Geralt asked Yennefer to accompany him, he had never asked her. Not once. While she may not have been able to wield magic, she could wield a sword and bow rather confidently. She turned towards Jaskier to see him already looking at her. They watched Geralt and Yennefer walk away and eventually disappear from sight.
“I can’t believe–” Jaskier didn’t get to finish before Y/N turned on her heel and walked away. Jaskier watched in shock as she made her hands busy with starting a fire. It was very unlike her to act out in frustration, but by the way she was slamming pieces of wood down onto the ground, he would even go as far as to say she was angry. She stopped suddenly and let out a huff of air before saying,
“If he wants to have her as a companion that’s fine, I won’t stand in the way. However, I won’t be sitting here forever waiting for him to come back. If he’s happier with her then so be it.” Jaskier knew that this little blow up didn’t come from the one instance of Geralt taking Yennefer over Y/N, but a build up after just over a week of him choosing to give all of his attention to Yen and ignore Y/N. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “I just don’t know Jaskier… Maybe it would be best if I left. It would make it easier for everyone.”\
“Don’t you dare leave. He loves you, and even though he might have his head up his ass right now that doesn’t mean that he wants you to leave. Or wants Yennefer for that matter!” He raised his voice. Anger towards Geralt showed clearly in his tone.
“Okay.” Was the only response he received.
Hours had passed and night had fallen. Worry started to course through Y/N. Geralt always returned when he said he would. Not once was he late. She couldn’t help but think the worst. Images of his broken body flashing through her mind. Panic started to take over.
“That’s it!” Y/N announced. Jaskier turned his head in confusion, watching her stand up from where she had been sitting around the fire for the last several hours. “I’m going to find them.” She started rummaging through her pack, pulling out her knives and crossbow.
“I don’t know if this is the best idea, but if you’re going then I’m not going to be left alone in the dark.” Jaskier put down his lute which he had been playing. The two started off in the direction they watched Geralt and Yen go that morning.
Stumbling through the dark was not ideal, and Jaskier was not graceful at all. Y/N lost count of how many times she had to help him up after he tripped. But the two of them finally made it to what looked like the mouth of a cave.
“Nope. I’m sure they’re fine and probably wanting us to stay back at camp. Where it’s safe.” Jaskier turned dramatically to walk away. Y/N’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm.
“If it was us, Geralt would go in there no matter what.” She stared Jaskier down.
“Fine.” He huffed and began to follow her in. To say she was afraid was an understatement, but Y/N was driven by images of Geralt lying injured, alone on the cave floor.
It wasn’t long before they could hear the echoes of a fight ensuing. Y/N picked up her pace, starting to jog. Pulling a long dagger out of its sheath, she turned back to make sure Jaskier was following. With wide eyes he mouthed, “let’s go”. She shot him a quick smile and nod of approval. They slowed as they approached a drop. Peeking over, they could see Yennefer and Geralt fighting the kikimore. Fear ran cold down Y/N’s spine. It was worse than she had imagined. She could faintly remember Geralt telling her that kikimoras lived in groups with a queen, a worker and a warrior. Much like bees. Her eyes scanned the open area they were fighting in. There had to be at least six corpses lying around. None looked like it could be a queen. Jaskier and Y/N silently cheered on Geralt. It seemed to be going well until the queen finally revealed herself. Y/N gasped as the insect-like monster silently crept up behind Yennefer. Y/N had only a second to make a decision: Geralt would be happier with Yen. Without a second thought, she threw herself down between the queen and Yen. Y/N didn’t even have time to react before the Queen slashed at her, catching her clean across the abdomen. Now aware, Yennifer quickly cut down the monster.
Ringing was all Y/N could hear. She felt arms wrap around her and lift her off the ground. How did I get onto the ground? She struggled to piece together what had happened. Looking up, she met Jaskier’s worried gaze. She watched as he mouthed “I got her” to Yennefer. Y/N lay dazed, trying to form a coherent thought. All she could manage to do was stare up at Jaskier. He then seemed to notice her.
“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. You’re okay. You’re okay”. He kept mouthing the words over and over like a prayer. “You’re okay”. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.” All at once, sound returned. The ringing in her ears quieted and she could hear Jaskier’s voice. His voice was shaking, he was shaking. And crying? Y/N kept trying to make sense of what was happening and why her friend was so sad. And why couldn’t she lift her hand to wipe away his tears?
Feeling slowly started to seep back into her body. First, how cold her hands were. They felt like ice. Next, how wet her abdomen felt. And last, the jarring pain. Ringing returned to her ears as she gasped, crying out for Geralt. Her eyes were wild with pain, trying to take in everything around her. Geralt was nowhere to be seen; probably still fighting off the kikimore.
Seconds later, Yennefer was in her line of vision, putting pressure on her abdomen. At that moment, Y/N remembered. It all came rushing back. The grief of believing she lost her love to another woman, the panic of not knowing he was okay and the final decision to give her life so that the woman who made Geralt happy could live. Though waves of pain were washing over her and she wanted nothing more than to get up and walk away from this, she didn’t regret it.
“Why would you do that?“ Yennefer’s voice broke through her thoughts. Y/N tried to form words but the waves of agony kicked them back into her throat.
“He needs you.” She finally was able to choke out.
“What?” Yen had a genuine look of confusion cross her face.
“You make him happy. He needs you.” Y/N responded, as if it was matter of fact. Her eyes shifted back to Jaskier. Grief ripped across his features, and everything sunk in. She wasn’t walking away from this. She was going to die below ground in her best friend's arms with the woman her soulmate was in love with. She nearly laughed at how cruel it all was.
Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted once more by Yennefer putting more pressure on her abdomen. Y/N couldn’t hold back the cry that left her lips. She could feel her breathing become laboured. Panic was starting to set in.
“Yen.” Y/N breathed. Yennefer’s eyes met hers.
“Yes?” She looked surprised at the determined look Y/N pulled together for her.
“You need to protect him. You need to be there for him and don’t you leave. You hear me? You cannot leave him alone. You need to be-“ a wet cough took over Y/N’s body, cutting off her words. But Yen understood. She gave Y/N a nod. At that, Y/N visibly relaxed into Jaskier’s arms.
“What about me?” He laughed through his tears. A sob left him and he gripped Y/N tighter, running his hands through her hair to comfort her.
“Jaskier… you are the very best friend anyone could have. I’m so sorry,” Y/N was once again interrupted by a cry of pain leaving her. She met his eyes once more and continued on. “Jaskier, I don’t even know what to say to you, but thank you. You have been the best big brother I could ask for. I don’t know what I did in my last life to deserve you, but I am grateful.” Y/N choked on a sob.
Jaskier bent down to clutch Y/N to his chest as tightly as he could, afraid to no longer have his best friend at his side. Y/N could feel her energy seeping away. Her life seemed to be melting away into the ground below her. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to see Geralt’s face once more. To say and hear one more “I love you”. And as if the universe answered, there he was. Standing there, staring at her like he had seen a ghost, all the colour gone from his beautiful face. His mouth dropped open just the slightest amount. A look of pure grief and pain took over his features. She watched as his eyes shifted to Jaskier who shook his head slightly. The Witcher rushed to her side, gently taking her from Jaskier’s lap and moving her to his own, cradling her head against his chest.
“No, no, this can’t be- you can’t be-“ for the first time she watched him stumble over his words. Staring up at him, she truly felt how much she loved this man. As she watched his face crumple into a cry of agony, she wanted nothing more than to take his pain with her into the afterlife.
“I told you to stay- this can’t be- but I love you…” he started rocking her back and forth with his body. She could feel herself going numb and knew it was just about time. Using the last bit of strength she had, she reached up to cradle his face.
“I love you more than anything, my dear.” She whispered the words to him while holding his gaze. He gently began shaking his head, in denial of what was happening.
“I love you too.” At that, she relaxed. She knew that he understood everything she wanted to tell him. He knew how much she loved him. Her eyes began to slip closed when Yennefer’s words drew her attention.
“No. I’m not accepting this. We can’t just sit here and let this happen. We need to get her to a healer. I can–” Y/N slipped from consciousness at that moment, not hearing another word. She didn’t hear Jaskier fold and scream, believing his best friend gone. She didn’t watch as Geralt stared wide-eyed at her body, shaking his head and whimpering “no no no” repeatedly. And she didn’t see Yennefer move towards her, summoning her magic.
#geralt x you#geralt headcanons#witcher geralt#geralt x reader#the witcher#the witcher imagine#geralt imagine#geralt of rivera#geralt of rivia
319 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here are some parallels between Calanthe and Queen Jadwiga of Anjou, the only female King of Poland, Poland's patron saint and the Mother of Poland.
Jadwiga:
“Men made her life hell. Today no one remembers that in her youth she was called a prostitute, a harlot, an adulteress.”
Calanthe:
“At first, Lioness Calanthe did not want to marry at all, later however, when she agreed to marriage of convenience after many persuasions, it turned out there were not many volunteers. Too many gossips were spread of the princess - later queen - of Cintra. They spoke of incestuous relationships in the family, they spoke of “hot blood”, of numerous romances and adventures. They spoke even of a perverse relationship of Calanthe with her cousin, Queen Meve of Lyria. All of this caused many princes and kings to politely refuse, when they were proposed a union.”
Jadwiga:
“Jadwiga stood in front line in a battle. She saddled a horse and led her soldiers to battle aged fourteen. She won the battle and therefore returned the territory to her homeland after it was successfully taken by Hungary. Supposedly the Queen was known for her explosive temperament. She couldn’t stand idly by when her people were being raided.”
Calanthe:
‘Hochebuz,’ said Calante, looking at Geralt, ‘my first battle. Although I fear rousing the indignation and contempt of such a proud witcher, I confess that we were fighting for money. Our enemy was burning villages which paid us levies and we, greedy for our tributes, challenged them on the field.
Jadwiga:
“Jadwiga could not only command an army. She was a skilled politician. She refused to be pushed away from power and give it up to her husband - she herself actively participated in politics.”
“Therefore, Jadwiga was not only known for the love and devotion of her subjects, who believed her to be a saint even in life. Together with her husband she built the Kingdom’s power.”
Calanthe:
‘She chose the third option and she ruled the country … but at Roegner’s side. Naturally, she didn’t allow herself to be subjugated or bundled off to join the womenfolk. She was the Lioness of Cintra. But it was Roegner who was the formal ruler – though none ever called him “the Lion”.’
Jadwiga took the throne of poland at a young age, much like Calanthe (twelve and fourteen years old respectively). Their first battles also happened when they were approximately the same age (Calanthe - 15, Jadwiga - 16).
There is a story about Jadwiga hearing a man crying out for his sick wife and begging for a single golden penny, to which she took a golden and jeweled pin that was worth a fortune off of her shoe and gave him that instead, which is similar to Geralt asking Calanthe for her sash and receiving an emerald necklace with stones the smallest of which were the size of a bumblebee in Question of Price.
Jadwiga was known as the spiritual mother of the poor, weak and ill of poland, and one of Calanthe’s titles is mother Calanthe. Similarly, Jadwiga would sometimes be called the Highest Queen, just like Calanthe was (Ard Rhena).
Jadwiga, like Calanthe also had only one, beloved daughter, who dies before her and whose death devastated her. Unlike Calanthe, however, the child's death was believed to be one of the causes for Jadwiga's early death.
All of these parallels (there are more but I'm lazy) bring me to a conclusion that even if the books version of Calanthe is not directly based on Jadwiga, then at least Sapkowski took a lot of inspiration in her when creating the character of Calanthe. And it only puts more weight on the significance of Calanthe, of her death, of how much Cintrian people loved their Queen. And makes the difference between her book version and Netflix version even more obvious and outrageous.
#queen calanthe#calanthe fiona riannon#calanthe of cintra#meta#rant#anti netflix witcher#anti netwitcher#hedwig of anjou#jadwiga#jadwiga of poland
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
After the events of TW3, Geralt feels like he doesn't have a purpose anymore. Witchers are a dying breed and Geralt is tired of roaming the Path in search for contracts. Ciri is being trained as the future Queen of Nilfgaard and barely has time to visit him anymore. His surprise daughter left the nest and Geralt doesn't know how to handle it. Jaskier suggests taking up a hobby, Yen suggests taking time off and spending quality time at Corvo Bianco. Yen is just as lost and disoriented as Geralt that Ciri is suddenly not a part of their lives anymore, but she can visit Ciri more easily and more often than Geralt.
Geralt decides to take a year off. Jaskier promises to meet him there as soon as his teaching duties in Oxenfurt come to an end. Geralt deserves some time off after all. And sunny Corvo Bianco is the ideal location for him.
Only three months into his sabbatical year, Geralt wakes up in the middle of the night at the sound of persistent knocking on his door. Loyal Barnabas-Basil is already at the door when Geralt emerges from the master bedroom, a dagger in hand just in case. To Geralt's surprise, it's Lambert standing in the doorway and what looks to be two kids hiding behind him and peeking around his legs curiously.
"Lambert, what the-"
"I have a favour to ask of you, pretty boy," Lambert announces before Geralt has a chance to speak, "found these two in Kaedwen. Their parents were killed in the war and they've been roaming the streets since. Miss Mischief here was trying to make off with my horse."
A young girl with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes cowered behind Lambert almost as if she worried Geralt would strike her for her actions. Geralt offers her what he hopes is a reassuring smile.
"And does Miss Mischief have a name?"
"Sophie," Lambert answers for them, before pointing to a scrawny boy with light brown curly hair and the same blue eyes as his sister, "and her younger brother Aaron. Can they stay here for a while?"
"You're leaving us?" Sophie asks with a wobbly lip which had Geralt's heart aching. Gods, he was growing soft in his old age. Lambert looks down at the girl and kneels down with a sigh. He gathers the kids closer and stares them straight in the eye as he speaks.
"I promise I'll come back for you, kids. I just need to get some supplies from Beauclair and meet a friend there. Geralt is my brother, he'll keep you safe. Right, Geralt?"
"You've nothing to worry about," Geralt promises as he steps outside and kneels behind Lambert to be at eye level with the two kids, "I promise I'll keep you safe."
Geralt ends up taking in Sophie and Aaron, and for the first time in months his heart feels full again. The kids take to him instantly. He teaches them some basic sword moves, lets them groom and briefly ride Roach and spends most day playing wit Sophie and Aaron. Lambert returns a week later with Aiden in tow, who turns out is not dead, and Geralt can finally meet the Cat witcher who seems every bit the good man Lambert made him out to be.
"What's the plan, Lambert?" Geralt asks his brother that evening when Aiden is tucking Sophie and Aaron into bed and telling them the story of how he got his eye-patch.
"We'll travel back to Kaer Morhen in the spring probably. It's safe there for them. Thought we could stay here for the winter? It's warmer and so much nicer than a dusty keep."
So Geralt ends up with Lambert, a Cat witcher and two kids at Corvo Bianco. He writes to Eskel explaining the situation and inviting his brother to join them at Corvo Bianco. Of course, the invitation doesn't fall on deaf ears. Eskel turns up at the start of winter with a young girl going by the name of Aurora trailing behind him. The first thing Geralt notices are the horrific burns on the girl's legs.
"House fire," Eskel explains as he tries to coax the very shy girl to step closer to Geralt, "She nearly died from her wounds but I took her to a healer and she survived. Wouldn't leave my side and, well-"
"Let me guess, she's got you wrapped around her little finger already?" Geralt finishes for Eskel, earning a sheepish smile from his brother.
"She's a sweet girl. Won't cause much trouble."
Aurora and Sophie become friends quickly after that and Geralt heart is even fuller wuth love for the stray children his brothers brought home. Since good things usually come in threes, it's Jaskier's turn to show up at the beginning of spring with a young boy in tow.
"Kye, this is my dear friend Geralt," Jaskier introduces without ceremony, "and dear heart, meet Kye. He ran away from the orphanage in Novigrad and the horrid matron chased him all the way to my house. I couldn't let this woman take him back, she was loud and shouty, and she reeked of cheap booze, Geralt. So I made Kye my apprentice, and-"
"Just come in, Jaskier," Geralt sighs but there's a fondness to his gaze when he winks conspiratorially at Kye.
"Oh, thank you dearest witcher, we shan't even be a bother I promise you."
Geralt fills Jaskier in while Kye gets acquainted with the other kids. Aaron is thrilled to finally have a brother to play with. The two boys are inseparable from the minute they meet each other.
And Geralt?
Geralt finally has a son. Kye. The witcher pulls Jaskier close and places a soft kiss on his lover's lips, his heart nearly bursting with love for his family. When Ciri and Yen return to Corvo Bianco some weeks before the start of summer, they both fit right into the domestic bliss that is Geralt's life and the white wolf couldn't be any happier if he tried.
Retirement wasn't so bad after all.
#fluff#geralt of rivia#the witcher#jaskier#geralt x jaskier#geraskier#geralt z rivii#jaskier x geralt#dandelion#geralt x dandelion#the witcher eskel#eskel the witcher#eskel#the witcher lambert#aiden x lambert#lambert x aiden#lambert#aiden#witcher aiden#corvo bianco#tw3
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
thisfuckinparadise
FUCKIN PARADISE
traumaclown
im hurting
888888-88
＊＊＊
dreamgen0cide
Celestial Gods
vaporwavejellyfish
on the couch inside the vaporwave cacoon