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withoutyouimsaskia · 2 years

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Putting Out Fire With Gasoline

GIF originally posted by: @thewitcherdaily

Summary: One Shot set in the universe of The Witcher, written while listening to Cat People (Putting Out Fire) by David Bowie.

Originally posted on my Wattpad account: https://www.wattpad.com/story/255711074-putting-out-fire-with-gasoline-the-witcher

Trigger Warning for Suicide/Self-Harm References and Strong Language.

Word Count: 2.5k

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"See these eyes so red, Red like jungle burning bright. Those who feel me near, Pull the blinds and change their minds."

Standing barefoot at the edge of the lake, I rolled back and forth from my heels to the balls of my feet in an attempt to ground myself with the nature surrounding me.

Tissaia's words were still ringing in my ears like bells.

They were as crisp as the day they had been spoken.

"Calla, I have tried to do my best by you. You showed promise, there is no denying that but, The Chapter have made their decision."

She had stood up at this point and smoothed the fabric of her blue dress before re-establishing her gaze upon my face.

"There is nothing left for you here."

My initial reaction had been to reason with her. But one look at her stone-cold face told me that there could be no benefit from it. That the tears that had been brewing behind my eyes would have no effect on her. But their paths had been set and they overflowed.

They had glanced off my cheekbones, remaining in contact with my skin for a few seconds before evaporating into little bursts of water vapour.

This had caused the steel in her eyes to intensify.

"Even now, as you stand before me, you are unable to control yourself."

Her words did nothing but stoke the flames. I could feel them smouldering just under the surface of my skin, choking my lungs, blackening my vision.

Even my usual technique of visualising stormy waters and snow covered mountains had done nothing. My emotions had been truly set ablaze.

I had opened my mouth in an attempt to speak but Tissaia had cut me off before I had been able to utter a single syllable. She repeated the same devastating words.

"There is nothing left for you here."

I had bowed my head in submission.

"I apologise for being such a disappointment. I will always be grateful for the opportunity you granted me. I will be gone before the break of dawn tomorrow. You will never have to lay eyes on my face again."

I had walked calmly from the room. Inside I had been crumbling.

Everything I possessed was being taken from me.

Safety.

Stability.

Purpose.

I no longer had a home. Nowhere to rest my head at night. Nowhere to shelter from the elements.

I couldn't even begin to feel angry at Tissaia because I knew it was solely my fault.

I had managed to steal a few hours of dreamless sleep before the nightmares caught up to me, and I spent my final few moments in Aretuza preparing to leave.

Thankfully, my personal affects were scant and it didn't take me long to stash them in the deep pockets of my sage green cloak.

A pair of leather gloves, a small knife and a stolen bottle of healing potion, and that was it.

I had taken a long, hard look at myself in the mirror mounted on the wall. It was an attempt to cement a final memory of the person I had been here. But I was far from the person I had been when I first came to Aretuza; after the accident, nothing had been the same.

My eyes had still shown faint signs of red, despite the fact that the fire inside me had gone out during my slumber. Tissaia was right. Control was a mystery to me. There was no other way of looking at the situation.

And so I had left on the eve of first light. I had portalled myself to the mainland, right on the shoreline. I had stood on the beach, hand shielding my eyes from the sand being whipped across it, looking back the island that for years had been my home.

There had been tears in my eyes but I was unsure if it was due to the grit-laced wind or my emotions.

I had walked across the precarious dunes, fingers brushing through the long grasses. There had been a cluster of buckthorn bushes some five hundred steps from the tree line that I had stopped by.

Their berries were the most positive shade of orange. The glow had been so tempting that I had decided to pick some to eat. The taste was a blend of fruitiness, sourness and pleasantness. I had taken a few more for the remainder of my walk towards the forest.

It was at this point that I had considered portalling again but I had been unable to decide on a destination.

Instead I had walked for what felt like miles; I had no way of quantifying it correctly but the soreness of my toes gave an indication.

My route had eventually led me to the aforementioned lake.

It had been a relief to remove the leather boots from my blistered feet. My cloak had joined them on the moisture-covered grass close to a willow tree.

I knew that the water was going to be a painful temperature. It always was for me now.

Yet I still wanted it.

I sat down on the bank and counted to three in my head.

Feet first, I slipped swiftly into the lake.

The contrast of the liquid against my fiery skin was brutal. I let out a startled sound, I couldn't help myself.

There was a change though, something small but definitely a lessening in the fire.

Encouraged by the feeling, I bent my knees to submerge my face. My hair took on a life of its own but aside from that, everything began to settle around me.

This lasted for a minute at most. My excitement fueled the flames inside. I opened my eyes and saw bubbles forming in the water; their density increased at an alarming rate.

I was boiling the water.

I stood up straight.

"Fuck!" I spat the word, and smacked the surface of the water.

The fire was raging now. Like it was retaliating against my attempt to quash it.

I furrowed my brow with concentration and in frustration, plunged my face under again.

Nothing changed. The fire still burned on. I purposely sucked some water in through my nose in desperation and that was when I felt it.

My flame began to gutter; I could feel the burn leaving my eyes and hands.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like my old self again. The person I had been prior to Aretuza and Tissaia and before the manifestation of this strange affliction.

It was so serene.

It made me want to freeze myself in time.

I knew that to stay under the water would also mean the same as slipping away.

But despite its finality, I would have done so, had it not been for the muffled sound that pierced my placid hiding place and woke up my inner voice of reason.

What was I doing? How had I so quickly ended up in this headspace?

I broke the surface, coughing up the contents of my lungs.

I heard the noise again.

A voice, deep in timbre. Undoubtedly getting closer.

"Fuck." I swore under my breath.

I knew there wasn't enough time to pull myself out the water, grab my boots and cloak and get out of view.

I looked around frantically, trying to think of what to do.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Many of the branches of the willow tree were hanging into the water. I dove between them, hunkering down as much as I could behind the foliage, hoping that fate would allow me one small mercy.

A man came into view. He was leading a chestnut brown horse with a white stripe down the front of its face.

I expected to see a second person but, there was none.

The man continued to speak, head inclined ever so slightly towards his equine companion.

Was he talking to the horse?

I pushed the thought aside; I had seen much more uncommon things in my time.

"There you go, Roach." The man patted the horse affectionately, letting them drink from the water.

I kept myself as still as possible to ensure that the only sounds coming from the water were those being made by his horse.

The man preoccupied himself with something I couldn't see. I began to feel my heart rate slow. My wide and frantic gaze lessened.

A gentle breeze rippled itself across the lake's surface.

Something shifted in the man's stance. Roach, the horse also reacted with an uneasy snort.

"Easy, Roach." The man murmured, and the animal settled down.

The man's gaze went to the place where my boots and cloak sat; he moved towards them cautiously, drawing the sword strapped to his back as he did so. He was so close to my hiding place that I could see the metal details on his leather armour, his white hair that contrasted against his black attire.

I then saw his yellow irises. My stomach turned with fear.

He was a Witcher.

Once at the site of my belongings, his right hand explored the green material, fingers going to his nose to inhale the scent.

He paused for a moment, before smirking.

The frightening eyes snapped over to where I was sheltering.

"You'll catch your death in there." He said loudly.

He then did something I had not anticipated; he walked back to his horse and set his sword down on the ground.

I understood the semantics of the gesture and pushed the willow branches back. A few leaves caught in my hair as I squeezed through the gap.

I pulled the debris out gently and left them to float on the undulating surface of the lake. Strands of hair were plastered to my skin and my soaked dress accentuated my body in a way that made me feel a little exposed. I felt sheepish and kept my eyes looking down.

"It's customary to remove clothing before a taking a bath, you know?" His deep voice was filled with sarcasm.

I smiled in response.

"Unless you weren't taking a bath."

"You are correct, Witcher."

"May I ask what you were doing instead?"

"It was not important."

My voice shook a little. I didn't want to acknowledge what I had done in there or the thoughts that had come into my mind.

Once I got to the edge, I put my forearms onto the bank and heaved myself from the lake. My body sighed contentedly as the submersion was finally over. The flames began to multiply in my core. I felt slightly peeved from the speed at which they fought back.

Torrents of water streamed from my hair as I squeezed it meticulously from root to tip. A puddle began to form under my bare feet. I moved out of it quickly before I got muddy.

I could feel the man watching me; I shot him a knowing look.

"You should take those off." He gestured to my sodden garments.

"I'll be fine."

I wasn't just trying to defend my modesty. The warmth of my skin would take care of things.

The water vapour starting rising from the fabric as I pulled my boots back on. I finished the lacing with a double knot.

Soon, my dress was completely dry.

"You're a sorceress." The man stated.

I sighed loudly. "Not anymore."

"Banished by your kingdom?"

"I never even made it to one."

"May I ask why?"

For the first time, I looked him straight in the face. I didn't actually know how to answer his question.

There were a lot reasons. The accident. The rules. The Chapter. Tissaia. My weakness.

It was like I had poured oil on my soul; the fire flared up savagely with my emotions. I could almost taste the smoke in my mouth and fought an urge to cough.

He noticed my eyes and looked curious. I had not expected that reaction.

I decided to give an abridged explanation.

"Last year, I attempted a spell that was too advanced for me. I was stupid and should have known better but my ego got the better of my logic and reasoning. The enchantment went wrong. And the only energy source in the room, other than my own, was in the fireplace."

I pointed to the now flickering effect in my eyes.

"I absorbed the fire. I don't know how. Nobody does. I can't get it to leave."

I felt some tears forming; it was difficult to vocalise the pain. I closed my eyes.

"And because fire magic is forbidden-"

"They grew fearful of you and asked you to leave." The man finished.

I quickly looked back at his face.

My next word came out in a whisper. "Yes."

The way he spoke made it clear that he himself had experienced rejection many times over. It was hardly surprising; I had been afraid upon realising what he was and I had chaos at my disposal. For a person without any power to harness, I could only imagine the reception.

While I was deep in thought, the man knelt by the side of the lake and began to fill a leather canteen. Once finished, he scooped up some of the liquid in his large, calloused hands and used it to wash his face and neck.

I mused out loud. "I thought I would always have a home at Aretuza and that my future was secure, even if I did sometimes dislike that my entire life had been planned for me."

The Witcher stood. A few droplets that had been clinging to his skin slipped downwards. They pattered onto his leather armour. He came a bit closer and looked down to meet my gaze with a soft expression.

"In all my years on this continent, I have come to accept that there are broad swathes of life that we have no say in. We make our own way in the world but destiny is always there, whether it makes itself known or not. Sometimes, it is necessary to simply trust the path."

I thought upon his words. Perhaps he was right. My destiny may have always been to find myself here. In some paradoxical way, I began to feel calm despite my loss of control and sanctuary.

The fire was still burning, of course, but it didn't have to define my every move or word.

"I have a feeling you are right, Witcher. Maybe it is best not to try and control the mayhem too much."

I looked up at the sky. A small piece of sunshine pierced through the cloud cover. Out the corner of my eye, I could see it glinting off of the silver medallion that sat around the Witcher's neck.

I sighed wistfully.

"The only thing that destiny can't tell me is where to go for a decent cup of ale." I laughed out loud for the first time in a while.

He grunted with humour in response. "I wouldn't have put you as an ale drinker."

I raised an eyebrow. "Ahh, you see I'm full of surprises, Witcher."

"I'm sure you are." The smirk on his face was wolfish and teasing.

I walked back across the grass to retrieve my cloak.

"So, Temeria. You know it well?"

"My knowledge is decent."

My red eyes met his yellow ones with a smile.

"Well then lead the way, Witcher. Let's find an inn and get pissed."

#the witcher #witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt imagine #oneshot #myfic #fanfiction #sorceress #angst #tissaia de vries #fanfic #henry cavill #myanna buring #witcher fanfiction #witcher fic #oc

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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

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Tracing Time

Saturday, 15:23

previous/next

#wtfock #sander driesen #sander season #tracing time #meet the gang!#thank you leonie for sharing ownership of yuri with thomas 🙈💕#thank you to benjamin wadsworth for giving me the perfect face for gilles #thomas aarden #gilles visser #emilie de vries #<- CRAZY that I made ocs

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thelearnedsoldiertoo · 3 years

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A lovely set of commissions from the ever-delightful @leendraws of my girls Lassie and Leanna. Lassie is an unstable super-soldier working for a cabal of genetically-modified cultists who worship change as the greatest good, and Leanna is a former Imperial Noble turned Champion of Slaanesh in our Black Crusade game, who’s already made one Daemon World and is on track to make another.

Tysm!!!

#ca-188997 'lassie'#leanna de vries #wh40k #mass effect legacies #black crusade #my ocs #blood cw #sfw

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roadkill-dreaming · 3 years

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A Harkonnen prince has a secret affair with his uncle's mentat. They discuss the future. Piter de Vries is softer than he lets on. (Piter de Vries x oc)

#dune #piter de vries #house harkonnen #oc x canon #f/o #dune 1984 #dune 2021 #frank herbert's dune

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thedeadthree · 3 years

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CHARACTER SURVEY

tagged by the loveliest @jamesbvchanans thank you so much macy for tagging me!! ✨🥺

thought of my classy baby eddie of fernweh saga today and missed her!! bonus is miss mina my hunter from when twilight strikes!! my loveliest ladies!!

tagging: @griffin-wood @eugenehartmann @jackiesarch @chuckhansen @maeflower @elmshore @mementovivere @rocketsummers @jmiacolt @solarisrenbeth @trvelyans @lacunafiction @yennas and anyone else that would like to do this!

template | coloring

— edelgard vanderweyden

roses / cherry blossoms / orchids / tulips

winter / summer / autumn / spring

thunderstorms / sunshine / snow

indoors / outdoors

meat / fruit / sweets

extravagance / traditionalism / minimalism

god fearing / non god fearing

cats / dogs / horses / birds

sunrise / sunset

day time / night time

fire / earth / water / wind

reading / writing

rising early / sleeping late

wine / ale / neither

fur / silk / satin / lace

rubies / pearls / sapphires

horseback / walking / carriages

love / power

having company / being alone

lakes / rivers / oceans

knife / sword / bow / poison

gold / silver

— mina morganthau

roses / cherry blossoms / orchids / tulips

winter / summer / autumn / spring

thunderstorms / sunshine / snow

indoors / outdoors

meat / fruit / sweets

extravagance / traditionalism / minimalism

god fearing / non god fearing

cats / dogs / horses / birds

sunrise / sunset

day time / night time

wine / ale / neither

fur / silk / satin / lace

rubies / pearls / sapphires

horse back riding / walking / carriages

love / power

having company / being alone

lakes / rivers / oceans

knife / sword / bow / poison

gold / silver

#c. edelgard vanderweyden #c. mina morganthau #if. the fernweh saga #if. when twilight strikes #leg.tagged #leg.ocs #leg.edit #my ladiessss!! my dignified ladies that i adore!!#i dont think ive done much for mina but i love her a lot and she’s my oc for wts!! she’s wooing kian!! k de vries my beloved ✨😌#and i missed eddie so i put her in this too!! verner is the luckiest duck ever LOOK AT HER!#we are looking!!#almost put eddie down as liking fire and then i remembered that given PARTICULAR circumstances from her past #that eddie would have a unbridled fear of fire bc reasons [someone please hug her i sure do ITS GONNA BE OK EDDIE ILU REESE LOVES U AHH ✨😖]#and only if you guys want to!! if you’ve done this already feel free to ignore as well! ✨:)#and thank you again for the tag macy!! your gifs are stunning and i adore seeing lily so much!! a queen really!#long post #eddie’s family would go to mass like for Christmas bc family obligations but other than that they weren’t very religious if at all u know?#more agnostic for sure?

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squidnids · 4 years

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Time to use this template again

#splatoon #inktoling #splatoon oc #my ocs #saffron #art tag #art meme #did this template with vri a while back #*looking at long hair saff* hope this doesnt awaken anything in me #my therapist: bottom left saffron isnt real she cant hurt you #nidsy draws

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justinewt · 2 years

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From Healer To Renegade - THE WITCHER Fanfiction Chapter One

[THE WITCHER FANFICTION-MASTERLIST]

Next Chapter

Summary: The war was closing in on all of them. Nilfgaard wanted the North, and no one was to oppose them. At least, supposed not to. Revynah was stuck in a battle she didn’t want to fight, having to face the horros yet to come and the ones that resurfaced from the past she thought she had buried deep, too deep for them to ever come out again. But she was so wrong, she didn’t even know how much.

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: lots of season 1 the witcher spoilers, description of dead bodies (not gore tho), war, partial nudity at some point, angst, betrayal, mention of tragic deaths and murder, flashbacks, title inspired by a line from the song “It’s Thursday Night” (critical role theme)

Queen Calanthe’s body was laying on the ground, covered in a mix of dust, snow and dirt. Fringilla and Revynah were standing next to the corpse, alongside three of the Nilfgaardian mages, looking at the one kneeling next to the corpse, a knife in hand. He rolled up the queen’s sleeve and cut a rectangle in her skin before handing the knife to Fringilla. He then rolled the piece of skin off her flesh, stood up and ate it. Revynah was looking at the mage with disgust. He chewed for a second, wincing and suddenly, he was seized with convulsions and his eyes rolled back. His hood fell off his bald head as white foam flowed from his mouth. Fringilla stabbed him across the stomach and let all of his guts fall as his body crashed to the ground. She crouched, raising her gloved hand above the viscera.

“Is it working ?” Cahir asked from his horse.

“Calanthe’s progeny is in the Brokilon forest.” Fringilla stood back up and walked around the dark knight and Nilfgaardian commander. Revynah stared at her, hands joined before following her to get on her horse as well.

“We can spare 10 thousand men.” Declared another guard while the two mages got on their mounts. “maybe 12.”

“Shut up.” Cahir cut him off, clearly annoyed. “Armies are not the way into Brokilon Forest. Damn it.”

All four of them then rode off. Revynah took a deep breath and sighed as she followed her peers in silence. Chains clattered behing them and she looked back at the prisoner shackled to one of their horses. He stumbled and fell next to the corpse of his late queen. She saw him grab her scarf in a hurry before he was forced up by a guard and was ordered to keep moving. Cintra had been turned into a fiery hell by the Nilfgaardian forces in this search for the lion cub of the fallen kingdom.

Revynah was unsure of what to do. She was lost in her thoughts while she followed her comrades. Something had shattered her undying fidelity and trust in the emperor Emhyr. She was a mage to him but also an assassin whom he sent in the north every now and then in the past, to execute orders without ver being seen. After spending a long time traveling from one corner of the northern kingdoms to the other, she ended up hearing about a few songs recounting the adventures of a witcher nicknamed White Wolf. She didn’t know the whole of it so she had inquired, somehow curious about this whole thing. She eventually found out the identity of the infamous witcher. Geralt of Rivia. His name had struck her, shaking what she had come to believe in all those years. Her little brother was alive. It was him, she was sure of it. She felt it in her core. Her dear and beloved brother wasn’t dead after all, and she had to find him. If she had thought he was dead all this time, he surely did so too and she couldn’t bare the thought of her brother burying deep down in him the grief and mourning he felt for a living and breathing person. This was unthinkable. Her time under the Nilfgaard leader was counted. This had been the trigger she needed to free her true self from the chains she imprisoned herself with. She wasn’t expecting it to be easy. Life had made sure she would always and forever struggle.

The sun's rays pierced through the foliage of the trees as two young children ran around, laughing, playing tag, zigzagging through the woods. The comforting and soft warmth of that summer afternoon was ideal for playing outside and they had jumped at the chance after lunch, as soon as their mother gave them permission. She was in the forest too, looking for herbs, mushrooms and other plants she used to make potions, ointments and a bunch of other stuff. She was a fine druid their mother, trying to take care of the both of them on her own after their father died in battle. They were not too sad about that as they did not have much time to know him, well the youngest child, Geralt, did not as he was barely five years old now but his older sister, Revynah, who was four years older than him, did, even if the memories she had of their father were fading away from her mind anyway.

“Revynah, look at this mushroom !” Geralt exclamed, stopping in his tracks after seeing a huge white toadstool. He was kneeling in front of it, looking at his sister as she turned to him. He went to touch it but thin fingers wrapped around his wrist and made him stand up, stepping back from the mushroom. It was their mother. Geralt and Revynah didn’t say anything, in fear that they would get scolded at for not being carefull.

“Revynah. I told you to watch out for your little brother. I didn't teach him what you know.”

“Sorry, mother.” She bit her inner cheek and bowed her head forward, looking at her feet in embarrassment. She was so into their mouse and cat game that she forgot her brother hadn’t the same knowledge as her regarding the living life of the forest. She was young but her druid mother had passed on her whole herboristic knowledge to her so she could understand the works of the forest and use what she would find in it to help others. She showed her how to heal injured animals using herbs and plants. She was immersed since her birth in this druidic and magical culture, close to nature and animals, shining in selflessness. Her brother did not receive the same teachings, showing no affinity for the magic which their mother saw, on the contrary, in her daughter.

“All right, come on. It’s getting late.” She turned around and, holding her wicker basket full of herbs, plants and more, walked towards their little house. Red strands of hair threaded their way out of her braid and were tossed about in the breeze that made the leaves rustle lightly around them. Geralt and Revynah followed closely behind, holding hands. As they walked, Revynah smiled at Geralt and came to rub his brown curls playfully. He winced but giggled, smiling as well. They walked inside the house. Their mother put the basket on the table while Geralt ran into the barn. “Go play with him. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Revynah nodded and joined her brother. He had a bucket on his head, wearing it like a helmet and was holding a stick like it was a sword. She stood by his side, waving her hands in the air to mimic magical powers as they fought off an imaginary growling beast with their weapons of fortune.

“Back, you beast. I’ll kill you and take your treasure.” They played for a while until their mother appeared in the door frame. “Do not fear, Princess.”

“Dinner time.” She said before walking away. Revynah and Geralt obediently followed her back into the house where a seemingly delicious dinner was waiting for the three of them on the table.

“Someday, I’ll make you a necklace of dragon teeth.” Geralt declared, still wearing the bucket on his head and holding his stick. He and his sister sat down as the druidess put two plates in front of them. “The prettiest necklace ever.”

“No.” She gently cut him off while Revynah grabbed the bucket on her brother’s head and put it on the floor behind them. “We must live and let live.”

“What’s that mean ?” Geralt asked.

“It’s our code.” She explained. “We must cling to something. If we don’t, the world descends into chaos.”

Chaos. Revynah’s world didn’t take long to descend into chaos as her mother said. It did when she stopped living by this stupid code she had taught the two of them. Geralt's world did not seem to have gotten any better. This was why she had to find him. She needed to see him again to save herself. He was the only family she had left. She had to cling onto the hope that she would find him and reunite with him. Her mother was right all along. When one doesn’t have anything to cling to, they lose their control over chaos, and then lose the rest. And they both did lose everything.

“Revynah.” The mage blinked, her chest lifting up as she breathed in and out. She sighed, turning her head to Cahir. She looked into the knight’s blue eyes, resuming a confident face. She had let her mind wander into her deepest memories. She did not even know she remembered all this that well, as it was so long ago, like it happened in another life. Which felt true to her. She had lived a few lifetimes already, and had not found what she wanted in any of them.

“Where is Fringilla ? Did she already leave for Aretuza ?” She asked. Cahir shook his head as a no and she nodded, satisfied that the other Nilfgaardian mage had not left without her. Joining her hands at her waist, she then walked away from the commander and looked for Fringilla. She had not went back to Aretuza since she was 14 years old, which was over nine decades ago. The school hadn’t changed at all. It still looked like a golden prison to her, dull and with no reason to try to be so magestic, facing this grey ocean. The school took your freedom away from you and the students were supposed to be thankful, even though they could be turned into eels if they failed to ascend ? No, thank you. Revynah had made her choice, and it was not to owe anything to them and resent them to her core. Tissaia would surely have a stroke when she would see her former alumni after so long. She didn’t resent Tissaia as much as she did all the rest because it was not her that put the 9-year-old Revynah here. She was only a teacher and mentor to her students and Revynah must admit, Tissaia was not a bad teacher.

“Let me do the talking, Revynah.”

“Fine.” She sighed. “Does the White Flame even know I came with you ?”

“He’s the one that ordered you came along.” She said, before walking away without any further explanation. Revynah wondered why the emperor would delibaretly ask for her to reveal that she worked for the Nilfgaardian empire as a mage when he had always taken advantage of the fact that no one knew Revynah was under his command. She did not really understand his decision but she wasn’t to discuss it so she stayed quiet, walking behind Fringilla, hands joined at her waist, heads up as they entered Aretuza and walked to the meeting room where every other mages were gathered in this very moment. They were probably not expecting the two of them just yet, but here they were anyway, lurking about the hallway. Guards opened the door; the ornated thick wood panels slammed loudly against the walls as Fringilla made her entrance with Revynah walking right behind her in her shadow.

“Our fight is with Cintra, and only Cintra.” Fringilla stated, cutting their conversation off. As she walked over to the strategy table, every eye was locked on her until they noticed a slightly taller figure approaching along Fringilla. Few were those in this room who knew who she was, but the ones that did had shock on their faces, especially Tissaia who Revynah saw, mouthing her name when she noticed it was her. Revynah stood still next to her peer, glancing at everyone else around them, studying their faces. Most of which she did not recognize.

“Revynah.” A voice echoed in her head but she did not flinch as it was Tissaia’s. Her former mentor was trying to talk to her, obviously, but she wasn’t here to fix things up. She was here under the command of the Nilfgaardian emperor Emhyr, not to chitchat with her professor.

“In Nilfgaard, we know what it’s like to have corrupt leaders. But under our new leader emperor Emhyr, we’ve changed. We’ve strengthened trade. We’ve funded research. We have torn down walls, whilst Queen Calanthe has done nothing but put them up.”

“I am not here to defend Cintra.” Tissaia declared outloud. Revynah shifted her focus on the latter after ignoring her. “But I will defend our way of life. The Brotherhood, the Academies, the order that we have built up over centuries. You’ve rejected it all, Fringilla. And you did too, Revynah.” Her tone had softened up when she addressed the red-head beside Fringilla. Everyone looked at her for a second. She stared at her with the straighest of faces while Fringilla replied.

“That’s not true. We’ve modified it. Most of us came from Aretuza and Ban Ard. We’ve simply charted a different path, guided by the White Flame. That makes us cousins, not ennemies.”

“You force mages into servitude !” Indignantly exclamed a mage with curly hair and a clear voice, standing on Tissaia's right. The man was absolutely right and Revynah had a bitter memory of her early days under Nilfgaard, mages emprisoned in caged like rats. Emhyr did look like their savior back then.

“When in training, yes. Like soldiers.” Retorted Fringilla. “We believe in shared sacrifice.”

“You also believe in forbidden magic. Demonology, necromancy, fire magic !”

“Forbidden magic is one of the ghost stories taught to us here. There is no such thing as dark or light magic. Nothing in this world is as simple as that.” Revynah looked at her from the corner of her eye, listening to her words, having to pretend that she firmly stood by her side. She let her mind wandered a little and heard the voice of Tissaia in her head again.

“Revynah. Let us talk, please.” Stregobor’s voice rising up distracted Revynah and she turned her head to the old man, putting Tissaia’s request on stand-by.

“Ah, enough of this tiring debate. Cintra’s a lost cause. Let them reap what they sow.”

“I say we vote.” Proposed another elder mage.

“Yes, vote. Vote !” Agreed Stregobor.

“Vote ? First, you install your niece at Nilfgaard, and now you wanna ram through a vote.”

“To be fair, Yennefer of Vengerberg is the one I have to thank for my posting.” Revynah stared at this Yennefer of Vengerberg. She did not really know the latter. She had surely been at Aretuza at the same time as Fringilla’s. Revynah’s time at the school had been probably a few decades before them. A brunette with violet eyes, dressed in a fashionable black and white dress. Yeah, she would have hated it in Nilfgaard. There, mages couldn’t wear clothes that showed too much skin or were too complex. Such things were seen as weaknesses and heavily frowned upon to the point where it was forbidden to dress any other way than with humble and plain clothing. Fringilla and Revynah, as the two main Nilfgaardian sorceresses could wear nice silver dresses and capes with opening for their arms, showing their long and tight sleeves but that was about it. Revynah was never too fond of fancy dresses but the freedom of dressing as she saw fit annoyed her. “If she had taken it, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Neither would Nilfgaard.”

“If only Yennefer had gone to Nilfgaard. With her at the helm, they’d still be a shitty backwater.” Fringilla’s uncle declared with a mocking tone. Some mages on Stregobor’s side laughed at his remark but none did on Tissaia and Yennefer’s side. Neither did Revynah. She was with Nilfgaard in appearance but in reality, she wasn’t on anyone’s side. She did not even want to be here and get involved in this argument. She didn’t care what would happen to Cintra in the end. The only preocupation she had as of now was to find her brother. That was the only thing she wanted.

“You’re right.” Yennefer spoke up. “Instead, I went to a prized kingdom and did fuck all for decades. Just as you taught us. Helped murderers and rapists keep their crown. Maybe it is time for something different.”

“I like your protégé.” Revynah mentally told Tissaia with a subtle smirk on her face. Yennefer did not seem to let others walk all over her and crush her into dust. Revynah would surely remember her, even if she wasn’t to see her ever again. But that she wasn’t so sure. She felt that they would probably encounter once more in the future.

“Pipe down. You– you don’t get a vote.” Stregobor sounded weak, just like the coward he definitely was.

“If I did, I’d vote to burn it all down.”

“There !” He firmly pointed his index finger at Yennefer as if she had just said something outrageous and overly incriminating, exclaming while mages on his side clamored at her response. “There you have– There you have it !”

“It’s true. Cintra has chosen to turn its back on us.” Tissaia rose her voice to calm the crowd and make them listen. “They’re proud, and smart, and difficult, yes. But I’d wager above all else… they’re scared. We have called them a lost cause for years. But we stopped trying too. And it is time now… that we risk not only our lives, but our pride, and try again.”

A silence had fallen upon the large room, everyone staring at each other, a few people murmuring in incertitude, until Stregobor’s voice was heard, breaking this solemn silence.

“With your permission, all those in favor of letting Cintra continue their proud tradition of fending for themselves ?” Everyone on his side obviously rose their hands but also some behind Tissaia, Fringilla and Revynah. They had won the vote already. “Well… there you have it.”

Yennefer walked away and slammed the doors open, bursting in the corridor, followed by Tissaia. Revynah watched them leave from the corner of her eyes and stayed there, beside Fringilla even though she wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. After a moment, the Nilfgaardian that had attended the reunion, including Fringilla and Revynah, left the room. Tissaia and Yennefer were seemingly just finished talking and Tissaia went after her old student with fire-like hair and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. The brunette with the amethyst eyes remained nearby but went a little further to give the two sorceresses some privacy. Revynah did not care about her being here at the moment and simply turned to Tissaia, staring at her former mentor.

“Revynah. Give me just a second.”

“I can’t. I must leave with the others.” Revynah spat out, sighing. She evidently didn’t really want to join the Nilfgaardians but she had to for now.

“You don’t belong with them.”

“So where do I belong ? With you ? Definitely not, Tissaia. I made my choice when I left and I plan on walking out of this place once again, and never set foot in here ever again.”

“I understand your resentment and anger toward Aretuza. I assure you.” She wrapped her fingers around her hand despite how cold and distant Revynah was toward her. “I didn’t seek you out, your mother brought you here. During your years as my student, I could feel your rage. It fed your chaos ever since and made you lose control sometimes. I know.”

“What do you think you know, huh ?” Revynah frowned, asking vehemently.

“I know what you went through after you fled the school. I kept the brotherood from going after you, but–”

“Ha,” She laughed bitterly, releasing her hand from hers. “they didn’t have me killed, but I lost everything anyway. So you and your peers must be really happy that life took care of it all for you.”

“I know, Revynah. I really do.”

“Stop it !” Revynah rose the tone of her voice, growling like a fox, exploding in anger before looking around and calming down so as not to draw too much attention to her an Tissaia. “Stop with your sympathy. Stop acting like you know it all. You know nothing, Tissaia.”

“I know about the time you used fire magic.” Revynah stared at her in incomprehension, frowning.

“What ?”

“It wasn’t a beast that slayed them.” With this very comment, Revynah started putting the pieces all together and knew instantly where this was going.

“No.” She stepped back, feeling tears slowly filling up her eyes, blurring her vision, hiding her dull emerald eyes behind a thick fog of water. She kept herself from blinking so her face wouldn’t get completely soaked. “Don’t. Please, don’t.”

“The brotherhood knew of your whereabouts. I convinced them not to go after you, sot they simply kept an eye on you, but when they knew you had a child… I couldn’t do anything to stop them. The others were collateral damage because they tried to oppose them.” Revynah felt her legs and knees get weak but she leaned on a piece of furniture so as to keep control as she stared at the wall, bringing her hand to her chest, squeezing the smooth and soft fabric of her cape, trying so hard to hold back her tears, muffling her silent cries by covering her mouth with her hand. Lucky Tissaia got close to her, stroking her shoulder. “I am sorry, child. I really am.”

Revynah stopped crying, resuming a straight face. Luckily for her own pride, the two women were in a corner of the corridor, a little further from the meeting room and no one saw her losing composure. She wiped away her tears and looked at Tissaia as she walked away from her, going back to her place among the Nilfgaardian ranks. Disappointment could be seen in the eyes of the older witch. Maybe did Tissaia believe she was going to fight their ennemy together, that she had succeeded into convincing Revynah to come back to them, but she had not. Revynah had little interest in their fight and would rather leave when she could than fight for any of them and it would be easier to do so if she wasn’t with them. She wouldn’t feel bad for leaving after having just reunited, but that she wasn’t going to tell Tissaia about. She would not stay long on the battlefield anyway. Once she would get an opening, she would leave right on the spot. Nilfgaard would surely go after her but she already knew that fleeing meant becoming a deserter and being hunted down by a whole empire for supposedly cowardice and treason. She was willing to take the risk if she had to.

Revynah slipped out of the water, taking a deep breath, opening her eyes. The heat of the bath water had cooled down and was at the perfect temperature. She let her head fell on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the ceiling while she brought her knees up, piercing through the water. It was as clear as a crystal and her body and curves were not hidden under a layer of foam bubbles and was visible though a little distorted by the movement of the water. She let her mind wander, thinking back to her unexpected discussion with Tissaia when she confessed that it was not at all a beast that killed her baby, lover and his parents, but mages that came to kill her child because he was deemed a too dangerous potential threat because of who she was. She closed her eyes. She could hear her heart-wrenching cries so distincly, seeing herself there as if it had happened just yesterday. So much blood it made her sick. She was kneeling on the ground, next to her son’s pram, holding his tiny, cold body in her shaking arms. She remembered perfectly what happened next, as Tissaia stated so well. She used fire magic, letting her chaos take over. At this moment, Revynah had died and let place to the assassin she was yet to become. She screamed so loudly she almost thought she had lost her voice afterward but it didn’t matter. Her grief, anger and despair were so strong that she burned down the house and stables, reducing what she had built to a heap of ash. She opened her eyes, breathing out, lips quivering, sitting up in the bathtub. The water had turned cold enough to draw her out of it now, so she got up, passed one leg outside of the tub and the other. She walked over a table to wrap herself in a long towel, holding it with one arm. At the same moment, someone knocked on the door.

“You can come in, Fringilla.” She assumed it was her peer as she sat down on the bench of a dressing table to dry her hair and braid them. She was so focused in what she was doing, she didn't look around and kept talking, focused on getting ready. “I know you’re probably thinking taking a bath before a battle is unnecessary but, I really needed a moment to relax. I, uh... anyway.”

“It’s not Fringilla.” She turned around and saw Cahir standing near the door in his Nilfgaardian armor, hands joined in his back.

“Cahir.” She exclaimed, staring at the latter as she stood up and walked up to him, still wrapped up in just a towel. He was obviously trying to keep his composure, forcing his eyes not to slide down her body. “Well, what is it ?”

“Fringilla reported to me about your visit at Aretuza. She said you left a few minutes after her and she had to make everyone wait for you. What was taking you so much time ?”

“So,” She giggled. “You couldn’t wait for me to get dressed, could you ?” She motioned for him to turn his back to her so she could finish getting ready, even though it wouldn’t be the first time he would see her naked but anyway, he obliged and turned around. It was cool in the room. The cold licked her bare skin and gave rise to chills on every inch of her being.

“We walk to Sodden, right now. So tell me what happened at Aretuza?” She sighed as she put her dress on.

“Tissaia de Vries just said hi, that’s all. I’m an old student of hers, you know. Nothing strange about it.” He turned back to her and she dramatically cried out, even though she didn’t really care if he looked at her. “I didn’t say I was done !”

“Tell me the truth.” He ignored her indignation and she groaned, rolling her eyes. She stayed silent for a second, grabbing her silver cape after putting her shoes on.

“You know I’m over a century old ?” He nodded. “Well, I had a family, and a son, once.”

“I thought all sorceresses were infertile.” Despite keeping a straight face, he showed genuine curiosity and he wasn’t wrong. All sorceresses were.

“I fled Aretuza before I ascended, which is when they sterilize you. So I just naturally lost my fertility over time, I guess.” She walked around him, getting closer to the door. She grabbed the door handle and looked at Cahir. “She just wanted to tell me something about how my son died… and why.”

The Nilfgaardian troops had established camps on a plain near the forest, planning the attack on Sodden, discussing the strategy to adopt in this crucial battle. Fringilla and Revynah walked toward a tent were Cahir and the field marshall were talking over a map, arguing. The dark knight was leaning over the table, with a fierce serioussness on his face, accentuated by the sharpness of his facial features.

“Fringilla, Revynah, one of you tell him he cannot possiby take Temeria alone.”

“Tell him he cannot possibly understand the stakes at play.” Cahir retorted, annoyed.

“The Brotherhood…”

“They’re here.” Revynah said, finishing Fringilla's sentence. “Our scouts just spotted them, fortifying the keep.” Cahir straightened up and stared at the two mages.

“We must move.” Fringilla added.

“How many ?” He inquired.

“We don’t know.”

“We must wait.” The marshall urged, pressing each word. “It is one thing to destroy a few peasant insurgents, but we cannot combat unknown magic.”

“We have magic too.” Fringilla cut him off. She rested her hands on the edge of the table, staring at him. “Without rules or restrictions. I will personally deplete them until they are empty and powerless. Cahir, if the report from the trading post is true, Cirilla may already be across the Yaruga. This…” She walked closer to the commander. “is our chance… to honor the White Flame.”

“Sir, forget Princess Cirilla. With the General, we can take the Continent.”

“Enough. We will not lose her.” He then walked away, looking ahead of him, followed by Fringilla and Revynah. “Test the Brotherhood defences.”

Soldiers, including Cahir, and all the mages went on the highest hill, from which they could see all of the castle of Sodden. Fringilla was at the front, with sorcerers on her right and left and Revynah, standing a little further behind her. Sorcerers who, on Fringilla’s command, gathered their energy, pulling it out of their every cells, throwing a devastating fiery ball on their ennemies, but reducing themselves to dust rustling into thin air.

“Again.” She ordered to a another mage. The woman looked down at the empty robe on the grass next to her. She was anxious, but she couldn’t disobey. Revynah observed her do just as her peer, lifting the ball in the catapult and her cape falling to the ground. They all watched as the attack was once again deflected to the side. Fringilla closed her eyes, raising her hands, palms to the night sky and generated a small black box in her right hand, and a white rock in the other. She handed the box to a mage next to her. “Draw the mages out.”

“We will not lose to them.” The mage declared before walking away.

They waited for the sun to rise, letting the survivors in Sodden believed it was over but slowly, a thick white mist spread throughout the forest as the mage Fringilla had sent out was progressing in the forest, getting closer and closer to the castle. Revynah was watching as the army marched through the woods. She grew anxious about the outcome of all this, thinking that maybe she wouldn’t even manage to make it out alive but she couldn’t die. She couldn’t let that happen, for her brother. She had to wait for the perfect moment to open an untraceable portal and flee the battlefield. Anywhere she would go would be safer for her than here. Walking amongst the soldiers, Fringilla and Cahir went to the first line, next to the field marshall while Revynah stayed where she was. They didn’t look back at her. It was maybe the occasion she had been dreaming of.

“So much for depleting them.” The marshall spat. “What now ?”

“Move to the other front.” Cahir instructed, staring at the smoky woods.

“Right turn ! March !” Some of the soldiers turned around and walked away in a concert of synchronized steps, making the earth tremble under their feet. Fringilla then left as well and Cahir, still staring ahead, motioned at other soldiers to go. In a matter of seconds, they were practically only Cahir and Revynah left on the hill, with a few other insignificant soldiers. The red-haired mage looked around, slowly taking a few steps back as she assessed whether or not it was the right time and then walked straight to the woods as if she was in a hurry.

“Revynah !” For some reason, Cahir called out to her. He had obviously seen her leave but she didn’t see him looking at her. He was so focused on what was going on below, she thought it was the perfect moment to slip away. She didn’t look behind though, running as fast as she could to get away and being able to open a portal without someone instantly jumping at her throat. She took her cape off, letting it fall carelessly. Wherever she would land, it would give away that she was previously with Nilfgaard. She grabbed the fabric of her dress and changed its color with her power. She would look for new clothes once she would finally be away from here. The plain and corseted grey dress turned to a dark green after a second.

She glanced around her to see if anyone was there and breathed out, when suddenly Cahir came in her field of vision. He was far away, staring at her but she ignored him. It was time to go. She stretched out both of her arms and started chanting a bunch of words in an ancient language, in a determined tone. A blueish light emerged form the ground and cirled up and around, opening a portal. She glanced at Cahir as he approached and quickly ran into it, closing her eyes and grunting softly as she fell on her knees in the middle of a dirt road. She was so relieved that her time under Nilfgaard was over, at last. She was aware that her temporary freedom came at some great cost and that she would be hunted down by Nilfgaard but if she found her brother, it would be worth it in the end. She sat down and looked at the cloudless bright sky above her.

She had no idead where she was at the moment but all she could thing of was that the quest to find her brother could finally begin…

[To be continued…]

Next Chapter

Published (01/11/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405 @kika64 @littlebirdgot

5 notes · View notes

weirdfishy · 3 years

Text

Valentine’s Day

based on @writerguild ‘s Valentine’s Day prompts:

character a: hey, do you have a valentine?

character b: uh, no, not yet

character a: okay, great, you’ll be mine

character b: wait what-

character a: *aggressive hand holding*

character b: well— okay.

but I turned it softer ;)

It’s set in the same verse as A Million Pieces (tumblr) and chronologically after A Million Pieces (ao3)

2.0k of Modern Trisskel (gardener and baker)

with the supporting role of Geralt,, Jaskier, Lambert, Aiden, Yennefer, Tissaia, and a lil cameo of my oc college bois Keilan Shelanmere, Anton Rambova, and Harvey Emerson.

💚

Triss smiled up to Heiðrún’s sunlight-bathed front, opened the door with a small jingle that never got old, and walked through with Geralt behind her, a confident stride carrying her through the length of the small shop with grace.

Geralt’s face was set in a smirk, having been a part of the plan that Triss, Yennefer, and Jaskier had enthusiastically planned a few days before. He was glad he already had his plans, even if he would be preoccupied for a couple hours. All of them, and he means all of their mash of friends and significant others, had agreed that Eskel deserved to be treated nicely (and maybe he might get the hint on today of all days).

Triss’ face was set with a wide smile, her eyes alight and determined. She was dressed the slightest bit down, soft brown cargo pants cinched at the waist and ankles, a slight gold chain hanging on one side by the insistence of Yennefer, and a deep wine-colored button up tucked into it, her curly hair loose around her shoulders, and her grandmother’s gold leaf-shaped pendant hanging delicately around her neck.

There was no line to the counter, and Eskel was in the back, with Keilan managing the cash register with their after-lunch rush out the door a couple hours ago. Keilan got what was happening right away, so they smirked, giving them both a warm greeting and needlessly waving them through the swinging doors, where they could see the broad man leaning over what smelled like orange scones (Jaskier’s favorite), some strawberry-rhubarb galettes, and the jalapeno-and-tomato pizza that Triss loved in small quantities. The tomato sauce most often came from Eskel’s now thriving tomato plant, Reese. Reese had been transplanted to the roof after it took over his apartment kitchen a couple years back.

Keilan pulled out their phone and dialed, a soft smile forming on their face.

Geralt knew the scones were, in fact, for Jaskier- Geralt had asked for Eskel to make them in exchange for watching the shop while he ran the galettes over to the Exley’s, who were in the next town over but had called in early enough for Eskel to bend to the extra catering request. They were frequent customers anyway, and Eskel had the deserts in the oven after the orange scones within the hour.

The pizza was for Triss; she had asked a few days ago as their plan was forming. She, unbeknownst to Eskel, had made a walnut-and-feta orzo salad to accompany it, and Tissaia had given them fancy wine from her fucking wine cellar, the rich bitch she was. Not that Triss would ever say or think that in her or Yen’s vicinity; those two were terrifying apart, but together they could make you feel like your bloodline was cursed if they wanted to.

And Triss liked having an uncursed bloodline and Yennefer as a friend. So Triss was grateful and accepted like she had a choice.

Said expensive and aged wine was in her car, in a hand-woven basket from her neighbor, Matt, nestled in with the salad, a few pears, a new red hydro flask, and a thick blanket. She smiled as Keilan started teasing through the phone, their face lighting up and getting lost in the conversation before she got to the counter.

Geralt went through the swinging door, making Eskel look up, but Triss stopped at Keilan, who had winked in affirmation before setting their phone down and striking up an idle conversation about school, their other jobs, and their prospective boyfriends. They may have blushed at the last topic, but to the untrained eye, you couldn’t see it on their skin tone. Triss had definitely seen it.

Eskel, still in his kitchen, had steadily and immediately reminded Geralt to wash his hands before finishing up the packaging for Geralt’s scones and the galettes. Even if he was going to be in and out, the kitchen’s newest addition obediently made his way over to the sink out of habit- he had seen what happened when Lambert had tried to stay longer than a minute without washing his hands, and he didn’t want to live it himself. Geralt had grown up with a healthy dose of fear for Eskel’s glare, and was barely able to stand still in the face of it, let alone that. Geralt shivered at the memory.

When the younger was done, Eskel handed his brother the two packages, one clearly wrapped for a customer, and the other more toned down, but not any less neat and perfect. For family.

Geralt thanked Eskel, before telling him he had a guest at the counter, making the elder man scrunch his eyebrows at his brother’s back before Triss’ head popped up in the view of the door’s window. Her easy smile immediately brightened, a strong hand coming up to wave at him, her gaze lingering as he stared back and mechanically waved. Why was she-?

Geralt popped his head back in, disrupting his deepening thoughts and the creep of his brows. “You’re going to want to dust off the flour and bring the pizza,” he said, an impish smirk that damn near perfectly mirrored one of Jaskier’s on his face.

So Eskel looked down, where only the slightest bit of flour was resting on his apron where he had leaned over the table before clearing it off after stretching the pizza dough. He had been in a kitchen for a long time; flour didn’t much get on him unless he was refilling the ingredient tubs, trying something new, or teaching someone. Eskel rolled his eyes, taking off his apron and gloves, dropping the thin plastic into the bin, and hanging the apron before washing his hands and making a sharp assessing sweep over the state of his mostly open-spaced kitchen.

All the metal counters, sans maybe the one he was just at, had been wiped twice-over with the sani-bucket solution, and the ingredients were stored for the evening - they didn’t get many people on a Tuesday, and even less so on Valentine’s Day evening, so the stock they had should be enough. The shelves needed to be wiped down and the floor swept and the pea-traps cleaned, so Keilan would have to do that while he ran out, Geralt watching the front; food should be good, and so should the drinks if Geralt didn’t drink it. Check, check, and check.

He sighed, the lunch rush leaving his lungs in a puff of air as he went lax for a few moments, redoing his ponytail out of habit more than necessity. Eskel took these moments of quiet and simple peace with open arms and closed eyes. The hum from the walk-in was a heavy thrum sitting in the back of his mind, and the soft murmur from his customers and- guest.

Eskel straightened, his mind snapping between chef and what Lambert called “civilian”. He walked to the employee room, changing his clogs for worn boots and shucking off his double-breasted coat before gathering his things for the day. The Exley’s were his last stop before a hot bath in his apartment and a small dinner with Lambert and Aiden, who he didn’t expect to stay long at all. Eskel was going to make sure they didn’t get undressed past their jackets anywhere in his apartment - Yennefer and Tissaia had, once, and he almost rammed his head into a wall or screamed into Alex, the particularly large cactus on a windowsill. He wondered what Triss was doing today and why she was at his shop. Not that he was complaining, at all, but there was an inherent confusion (and flutter of giddiness).

He stepped out of the kitchen, to find Anton giving Keilan a mindless kiss on the forehead across the counter, before jingling a few keys on a lanyard Eskel now (unfortunately, in his eyes) knew depicted a character named Miku (or something) and heading out the door with the decorative box in a sturdy hand.

Eskel knew Anton, knew he worked in hospitality if he wasn’t hopping around every restaurant in the county, and that he was actually well off in any kitchen because of it, despite his deceivingly wry form. He might even say he trusted him to deliver the box to a valued customer, but it also seemed it was out of his hands entirely, which was cause for confusion.

He set down the pizza’s container, turning to Geralt, who was already sipping from a washed-out red mug with a completely at ease expression despite knowingly drinking what Eskel would sell to paying people. Eskel leveled him with a withering glare, question forgotten, causing Geralt to slowly lower his cup, actively trying to avoid violence when he had someone waiting for him in a couple hours, and Keilan and Triss to hide their laughs. A few of the regular students were trying not to snigger too loudly, and others were fawning over the way the lowering afternoon sun was bathing both broad men very clearly. Triss would have been a part of the latter group if she weren’t so close and staring into Eskel’s molten amber eyes instead.

Geralt put his hands up defensively before pointing an arm at Triss, who was leaning a bit too far for casualty, her mouth slightly agape before Eskel turned to her, his glare slipping into a warm smile. Geralt let loose a soundless sigh, and Keilan excused themselves to the back, waving to the trio and only getting a response from Geralt. Triss didn’t say anything for a moment, and neither did Eskel, the two of them gazing at each other. The cartoon hearts were almost visible.

Someone from the corner coughed suddenly, the noise making the two of them to snap out of their daze. Triss spoke first, a chipper tone coloring her voice, “Do you have a Valentine?”

Eskel spluttered, a large hand moving to a bracelet on his wrist to twiddle with the wooden beads before he looked down and up at her a few times, his thoughts halting through a response. “Uhm. uh. No, not-,” he swallowed, “no, not yet?” His eyes latch onto the smile she gives him and he breathes a little easier, his fingers slowing its fidgeting.

“Great! You can be mine, then, yeah?”

“Wait- what-” is all Eskel can stammer out before she’s around the counter, her smile wider than ever. He finds himself reciprocating through his confusion.

Triss was safe. Triss he trusted and would walk to the ends of the earth for, even if he didn’t say it. (He didn’t have to)

She looks down for a second, slipping her hand into his bracelet hand, his other fingers slowly slipping off to grab the food container again. Once Triss looked up, her calloused fingers firmly entwined with his, she smiled the same blinding smile before scrunching her nose a bit and winking.

Eskel almost keeled over from her adorable scrunched face and subsequent wink; she was grounding him with her touch and yet seeming to want to make his head spin. She turned to Geralt, giving him a glare that was almost up to par with the one Eskel had given him.

“Make sure Keilan and Anton walk out of here together and before 7, okay, Geralt? Maybe even with that redhead, Harvey, if you can convince Keilan to face-call him. They all deserve a first date too.” Geralt nodded, his hands pointedly away from the cup he had been glared out of drinking from.

“Wonderful,” she turned behind her, shouting, ”Bye Keilan! Have fun on your date!” When she heard a heavy sigh from them she smiled, checking her watch.

“Let’s go, Eskel, we should get going before it gets dark. Dinner at Yennefer’s is at 8, so that should give us a couple hours to walk around the park and eat the pizza you made, right?” She was gently leading him towards the door, oblivious to the sighs and longing looks a few of the more relaxed customers were giving them as she led him out, a soft jingle floating through the air as the door closed.

Eskel looked toward Triss, his mind catching up with the “They deserve a first date too.” His cheeks might have colored, but it could have been the orange-yellow light bathing the low-rise buildings .

He gripped her hand a little tighter, causing her to look back at him with a head tilt, her hair backdropped by the setting sun. She squeezed back, grabbing the pizza container before letting go slowly to get into the driver’s seat.

Eskel sighed, the rest of the day’s tension already starting to slip through his fingers, and he closed his eyes on the way to the park, his eyelids fluttering open once in a while to smile dopily at Triss.

Well- okay. This is nice.

Pau

thank you for reading!! leave a comment, like, or reblog! 💚💚

2/14/21

also on ao3

my ko-fi 💛

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