#Back to West - geraskier au
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avixenk · 2 years ago
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I posted 2,530 times in 2022
That's 1,360 more posts than 2021!
51 posts created (2%)
2,479 posts reblogged (98%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
firefly464
@lynxalon
winged-kara
@rozugold
loudly--unladylike
I tagged 933 of my posts in 2022
#lego monkie kid - 201 posts
#lmk macaque - 179 posts
#lmk sun wukong - 161 posts
#shadowpeach - 126 posts
#the witcher - 38 posts
#pokemon - 35 posts
#jaskier - 25 posts
#lmk mk - 23 posts
#geraskier - 18 posts
#pokemon legends arceus - 17 posts
Longest Tag: 136 characters
#but being more out there i would want a moderately sized library in my house that holds more books than i would ever read in my lifetime
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Does anyone know what separates demons and gods? Like what's the difference between Wukong, known god (right? Yeah), and Macaque, known demon?
17 notes - Posted August 19, 2022
#4
Shadowpeaches animatic/animation with Little Lion Man. Wukong centered.
Before Journey To The West they were together. Eventually Wukong went to take on heaven because he could, leaving Macaque with barely a word. When Wukong got back he was gone and the next time they saw each other they were on bad terms and fighting.
36 notes - Posted July 16, 2022
#3
Wukong knows Macaque can hear him pretty much wherever the other is because of his hearing. He'll put on 10 hours of Nyan Cat to annoy him. It's very effective.
39 notes - Posted August 26, 2022
#2
I appreciate that everyone in their Sun Wukong and Macaque have kids AUs call the kids cubs instead of infants like baby monkeys are actually called.
Like, yes, that sounds better. Great job everyone. Pat yourselves on the back.
57 notes - Posted August 2, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Sending my love to Ariel and violently kicking Ned to the curb
197 notes - Posted September 27, 2022
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na-mmu · 3 years ago
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So
 where are we going next?
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iam93percentstardust · 3 years ago
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State of the Fic
July was another one of those months where it doesn’t seem like I wrote a whole lot and in some ways, I kind of didn’t. I definitely didn’t write very many oneshots this month and since I had family in town during the first week and a half of July, I ended up not doing much writing then. But I’m working on a lot of behind the scenes sort of fics with some longer pieces that’ll hopefully be coming out over the next few months so keep an eye out!
WIPs
Kissed by a Muse (Winteriron): Chapter 17 posted this month! Alternates posting weeks with MRMRN on Mondays
Mr. Right and Mr. Right Now (Stevetony): Chapter 1 posted this month! Alternates posting weeks with KBAM on Mondays
What is Grief... (Stevetony): Chaptersr 1-3 posted this month! Updates every Saturday
Promises Made Not Meant to be Broken (Stevetony): Posts on Ko-fi every Sunday, on track to be completed in August (hopefully)
Recently Posted
Renegade Runaway (Stuckony): Posted on July 1
Tony once had aspirations of being one of the best gunslingers in the west. He had the best aim this side of the Mississippi and he was quick. He’d been planning on making a name for himself, same as his father had.
Bucky’s bullet through his left thigh had put an end to that dream real quick.
It's Gotten Too Darn Hot (Stevetony): Posted on July 4
Steve is well-aware of what Tony is up to. Of course he knows, how could he not? He and Tony have been married for ten years and Tony has been doing this since they started dating all the way back in grad school. Besides, it isn’t like Tony is subtle. Tony has 206 bones in his body and all of them are flamboyant.
Wanna Hold On and Feel I Belong (Stevetony): Posted on July 12
Sometimes, Steve still feels like his post-serum body isn't his own. Fortunately, Tony is always there to reassure him he loves him no matter what.
Coming Up
1. The Stevetony/Winterwidow Holiday AU: Bucky and Nat’s storyline is about halfway done and this fic is set to be done with the first draft in mid-September probably
2. Part 2 of Simply the Best: covering season 4 of Schitt’s Creek
3. A Geraskier Persephone/Hades AU with a fun twist that I’m very excited about
4. The porn studio AU
5. Bingo fics!
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geraltofriviasleftbuttcheek · 5 years ago
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smells like you love me
geraskier | explicit | 3.4k | abo au, alpha!geralt, omega!jaskier
today jaskier still smells of oranges and honey, but there’s something else underneath it that geralt can’t quite place. It’s not bad, per se, but it leaves him feeling on-edge, a tightness in his skin and tension in his muscles that’s different from the usual, and he just knows something is going to go wrong.
it always does, with jaskier.
( read on ao3 )
When Geralt opens his eyes that morning, he knows, instinctively, that the day is going to go to shit.
He can smell Jaskier from across the campsite, scent sweet but not saccharine like most omegas Geralt has met—they’re too sugary, too flowery, like candy with too much flavoring or perfume applied too heavily.
(His alpha senses don’t like it as it is, but his witcher senses on top of it makes his nose scrunch until he's scowling and then it all sours into fear and it’s not any better, but at least fear doesn’t make it feel like his teeth are rotting from it.)
Jaskier, though—his scent is softer, orange blossoms and honey, with a hint of something crisp, like the air when rain is on the horizon. It’s clean and fresh, and it doesn’t make Geralt gag or the alpha in him recoil in disgust when he gets a whiff of it on the wind. He also doesn’t smell of fear, the sour, acidic notes never present in his scent when he’s around Geralt, and that is something Geralt will never admit he treasures.
Today Jaskier still smells of oranges and honey, but there’s something else underneath it that Geralt can’t quite place. It’s not bad, per se, but it leaves him feeling on-edge, a tightness in his skin and tension in his muscles that’s different from the usual, and he just knows something is going to go wrong.
It always does, with Jaskier.
(Geralt tries not to think about what it says about him that he lets it happen anyway.)
They’re heading north up the continent, if only because they’ve already been to the south and the west and the east, and making a circuit is as good a plan as any. They haven’t seen each other in a few months, and Jaskier whines about not having any new material in that brief interim, and he tags along because he’s a fool who lacks a sense of self-preservation and finds a witcher to be good company.
Geralt...doesn’t hate it.
Their coin is low, as well as their food supplies, but there’s a town a few days’ trek away, and that’s their next immediate destination. He hasn’t been up this way in a while, long enough that another monster or beast might have moved in to terrorize people, so Geralt figures they might be in need of him (whether they want to admit it or not). Jaskier claims he hasn’t been through this part either, and that he’ll get to spread his songs to yet another town full of ears ripe for listening.
It starts as a nice enough day—but so do all the others before they go to shit. Today is no exception.
They have a quick, sparse breakfast before setting off. Geralt walks beside Roach, her reigns in hand, and Jaskier trails behind him, singing snippets of lyrics that come to mind, but never a full song. He’ll play a chord only to scrunch his nose up at it and play another, and Geralt finds amusement in occasionally glancing at him to see it. The orange blossom and honey scent follows them, surrounds their little bubble of space when they stop to have lunch, and it puts Geralt at peace, relaxes his shoulders.
They stumble across the cockatrice toward dinnertime.
Well. Jaskier stumbles into it and Geralt rolls his eyes as he pulls him back and puts his swords between the beast and the idiot. It’s not a big one, and it already looks wounded and weak, dripping blood as it screams at Geralt and lunges for him, and it goes down easy enough, but then the mother comes screeching out of the trees and suddenly the day goes from not too bad to utter shit.
“Fuck,” Geralt says with feeling, and braces himself for a fight.
The stench of beast blood fills the air as he throws himself into taking off the thing’s head, and it gets in a couple of good swipes but nothing his natural witcher healing ability and the last of his salves won’t fix right up. The acrid smell of fear— along with something cloying, something thick and heavy—mixes with the orange blossom and honey and permeates around him, and he grits his teeth and keeps himself between the cockatrice and Jaskier as much as possible.
In a show of rarely-demonstrated intelligence, Jaskier scrambles off and finds a tree to climb up into to stay out of the way. Geralt has one sense out for him but keeps most of his focus on the cockatrice until he takes its head off too and its body slumps to the ground, dead.
Adrenaline pumps through him and Geralt glares at the dead creature for a long moment, letting it pass. When his head is clearer, he sheathes his swords and goes to pluck what feathers he can from the cockatrices. He considers digging into them for their livers and tosses the idea aside because he really, really doesn’t want the smell of cockatrice guts all over his clothes for three more days.
Speaking of smells—
Jaskier has climbed out of the tree, eyes wide and hands fluttering about while he chatters nonsensically about the attack. His scent has lost the fear, but it still has that cloying and heady undertone beneath the orange blossom and the honey that’s dug itself under Geralt’s skin and refuses to let go.
“Gods, Geralt, that was magnificent!” His pulse races in his veins, heartbeat quick but calming already. “Terrifying, as well, but magnificent! It nearly ate me! I could be nothing but the digested shit of a cockatrice by now if not for you! Really, what would I do without you?”
“You said it yourself,” Geralt mutters as he wipes his hands on his pants, tying the feathers he’d gathered together and heading for Roach. “You’d be cockatrice shit by now.”
Jaskier gives him a look as he follows Geralt back to where they’d left Roach but doesn’t dispute it. His heartbeat sticks at something just above sedate, his face and neck flushed, and his scent is strong, pheromones spilling off his skin in waves. Geralt inhales deeply on reflex, eyes closing, filling his lungs with the familiar, calming smell, and catches the undertone again. It smells like—it smells like lust, like need, thick like molasses and just as sticky sweet.
His own skin goes hot, the alpha in him keening, and his eyes snap open. Jaskier is muttering again, looking anywhere but at Geralt, pulling at his tunic and breathing heavier than is really necessary, and it hits him—
“Jaskier.”
Jaskier cuts off mid-sentence and looks at Geralt, eyes wide and bright and so, so very goddamn blue behind the haze beginning to settle over them.
“You’re in heat,” Geralt says, and it’s not a question.
Jaskier huffs and rolls his eyes, pulls at his tunic again. “Thank you, I would never have guessed it,” he snaps. The flush deepens, and Geralt catches the lemon-sour scent of embarrassment. “I’m trying not to think about it, because that just makes it worse, but fine! Let’s point it out, shall we?”
Geralt’s brow furrows, his chest expanding as he inhales again, tasting honey and orange and molasses. Blood flows right to his cock and his pants are way too tight now, his skin tingling and the urge to touch almost too much to ignore. Bad idea . He grits his teeth against it all, swallowing thickly. “Why would you come with me if you knew you were going into heat?” he spits out, and he’s not angry, just exasperated, but it comes out more biting than he intends.
“It wasn’t supposed to hit for another week!” Jaskier exclaims. He’s breathing even more heavily, panting almost, pheromones so strong now Geralt is having difficulty concentrating on his words—too focused on the light sheen of sweat making his skin glow in the evening light, the way he bites his lip, the tent in his own pants. “We were going to get to the next town, and I was going to bid you goodbye and we’d be on our merry ways, and I’d deal with it like I always do, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation!”
He takes a deep breath, and Geralt doesn’t miss the soft whine that breaks out of his throat—he can smell Geralt and the answering pheromones of an alpha responding to him, but he holds himself still (barely, by the way he leans towards Geralt).
“Outside stressors, however,” he continues, looking petulantly at the remains of the cockatrice some yards away now, “can sometimes cause a heat to happen early.”
Geralt blinks, takes that in, and gives him his most deadpan, unimpressed look despite the way his alpha is begging to go to him and press his nose into the scent gland on Jaskier’s neck. “You scared yourself into heat, is what you’re telling me.”
“I scared myself into my heat!” Jaskier laments, throwing up his hands in defeat. The movement wafts his scent toward Geralt, and he can’t stop the growl that escapes him, low and predatory. His skin is tight over his bones, and his alpha wants—it demands this omega beneath him, writhing and keening and stuffed full of his cock and his seed.
Mine.
Geralt wishes that thought surprised him more, but of late he’s looked at Jaskier—his blue eyes and his soft skin, his scent that entices him instead of repelling him, his unwavering loyalty and brave spirit—and wanted it to be true.
He takes a heavy step forward, towards Jaskier, and forces himself to a halt when Jaskier sucks in a sharp breath, head tilting back in invitation. Geralt forces himself to think with his head instead of his dick.
“How long do your heats usually last?” he asks, voice rough, almost a bark. It does nothing but make Jaskier shiver, and Geralt knows it’s not in fear (there is definitely no fear here now).
Jaskier takes a moment to think through the haze no doubt clouding his mind. “Um, four days, I guess? Longer, if I’m just coming off suppressants, but I haven’t been on those in years. Shorter with a partner.”
“How much shorter?”
“About two days?” he says, like he isn’t sure. “Day and a half at the shortest.”
Geralt tries to think, lust clouding his own mind (because dammit if he isn’t, hasn’t been, and won’t always be attracted to this idiot of an omega). They’re about three days out from the next town, but traveling in the middle of a heat is probably the most unpleasant thing an omega can do—impossible, really, because they’re nearly incapacitated with the desire to fuck.
But having a heat in the middle of goddamn nowhere with monsters roaming around and drawn to the smell of heat pheromones isn’t a whole lot better.
Unless—
He doesn’t even think as he slides his swords off his back and lets them fall to the ground at his feet. His alpha pants in anticipation, impatient. Jaskier watches him with lidded eyes as he stalks forward, coming right up to him and crowding in close. Those blue eyes flutter shut for a moment, and he leans into Geralt as he dips his head down and presses his nose to that scent gland.
“Wh-what are you doing,” he gasps when Geralt places his hands on his hips, tugs him closer. Geralt noses against the gland, inhaling the scent from the source, and feels his chest rumble with a growl. He lets his nose trail lightly up the side of Jaskier’s face as he brings his head up, meeting his eyes.
“We’re too far out to travel with you like this,” he answers, “and your pheromones will start attracting who knows what kind of beasts the longer into heat you go.”
Jaskier mewls when Geralt dips back down and licks his neck, tasting that sweet and enticing scent for himself. “But,” he continues, voice rough with growing passion and want, need rising inside him, “they’ll keep their distance if they smell me on you, smell you claimed. ᅵᅵ
“Gods, yes, ” Jaskier moans, and he tilts his head back to let Geralt at him, going boneless and weak-kneed in his arms. His own arms come up around Geralt’s shoulders, fingers sliding down his collar to dig into the skin of his neck. Geralt reaches down, grips his ass, and feels slick soaking through his pants.
They go to the ground, Geralt above Jaskier and between his legs where he rolls his hips and grinds their cocks together. Jaskier moans again and returns the motion, spreading his legs wider and urging Geralt closer by pulling on his shoulders. Geralt keeps his nose buried in his neck, teeth lightly scraping over his skin, nipping at the bolt of his jaw and his collarbones, drawing blood to the surface and leaving pinpricks of bruises.
“Mine,” he growls, and Jaskier nods frantically, clawing at him in increasing desperation. It pumps through his veins, the urge to mate fuck claim mate mate mate. They struggle to get their clothes out of the way, coats and tunics discarded, belts undone and pants kicked off.
“Yours,” Jaskier breathes, throwing his head back. Geralt can’t resist the urge anymore—he bites down, sucking the skin into his mouth and worrying it between his teeth, careful not to break it. Jaskier keens, long and high-pitched.
The sun is low on the horizon, golden rays shining off the sweat on their skin as they move together, finding their rhythm. Jaskier is dripping slick, thighs covered in it, soaking the ground beneath him and Geralt as he presses his cock, hard and thick, knot already beginning to form at the base, against him.
Jaskier chokes on another mewl, thrusting up, legs around Geralt’s hips to urge him closer. “ Please, please, please, ” he begs, rolling his hips, his own leaking cock pressing against Geralt’s stomach, smearing precome. It makes Geralt’s cock slip against him, the tip barely breaching him before slipping away again. Geralt bites him again, snarling, and Jaskier just moans again and pulls at his shoulders. “Oh, fuck, please, Geralt, just fuck me!”
“You smell so good,” Geralt says, rough and deep. He presses hard kisses into Jaskier’s skin, tasting him—orange blossoms and honey and rainstorm and molasses—trailing from his collarbones up his jaw to his mouth. “Never scared, just clean. Should be scared, but you’re not. Oranges and honey. Rain. Like it.”
Jaskier pulls back—and oh, no, his alpha doesn’t like that—just enough to meet Geralt’s burning gaze, his own blue eyes shining with haze. His mouth hangs open, panting, and Geralt’s eyes are drawn to it. He watches as a tongue wets those lips, watches them move as Jaskier whispers, hotly, enticingly, demanding, “Fuck me, alpha.”
Take what’s yours, he doesn’t say, but Geralt hears it. He crashes his mouth onto Jaskier’s, claiming those lips, that tongue, and fucks into him in one motion with a roll of his hips, his cock sliding into that wet heat, knot catching at the end. He swallows the keening noise Jaskier makes and keeps kissing him as he sets a hard, fast pace, skin slapping loudly in the waning evening, stars beginning to come out above them.
It’s hot and rough and near goddamn perfect. Jaskier takes him like he was made for Geralt, like his body was crafted just to let him in and keep him there. He kisses back desperately, biting at Geralt’s mouth, licking against him to taste deeper. Geralt lets him, wants him deeper, inside him so far he’ll never leave again and Geralt can protect him always.
It’s over almost too soon, because this is just the first round of many they’re going to have tonight.
Geralt fucks hard and deep, drawing out the most incredible sounds from Jaskier’s mouth and swallowing them right into his chest. They’re soaked in sweat and slick, bruises dotting Jaskier’s collarbones and neck and scratch marks sting down Geralt’s back where Jaskier’s nails had dug into him. With one particular thrust, Jaskier finally comes, shaking as he spills between them, and the smell of him and the sounds he makes—begging, please please please fill me up alpha I want it I need it—has him pressing in as deep as he can go and finding his own release, knot growing and locking them together, a deep, satisfied groan leaving his throat.
He slumps down minutes later, still pumping seed into Jaskier, but no longer in possession of enough strength to hold himself up. His knees are scraped from the ground, and he thinks Jaskier’s back probably feels the same, but the contented humming he’s doing as he runs fingers through Geralt’s hair says he doesn’t mind.
“That,” Jaskier says, voice breathy, “was fantastic.”
Geralt just gives a soft hm, letting his body relax. The night air is cool, and he feels Jaskier’s skin starting to pebble as the gentle breeze catches his sweat. They’ll need to start a fire and set up camp properly just as soon as they’re not tied together anymore.
Jaskier’s scent has now lost that thick hint of molasses, though Geralt knows it’ll be back soon. It’s clean again, just orange blossoms and honey and rain, and he buries his nose in Jaskier’s neck again, inhaling it deeply. It makes Jaskier let out a soft sound, but he just holds Geralt tighter, and they fall into silence.
Sometime later, as Geralt’s knot finally goes down, Jaskier breaks the quiet. “I could never be scared of you. You know that.”
Geralt turns his head to peer at him, still too sated to work up much skepticism. “Hm.”
Jaskier brushes hair from Geralt’s face, fingers lingering on his cheek. “All those witcher senses, and you don’t know why?”
Geralt does know. It’s rare in this world—nothing that has a particular scent, just a...a hint of something, something natural and inherent. It’s clean and simple and pure, uncomplicated. Different for every person who feels it.
Love on Jaskier smells like orange blossoms and honey and rainstorms.
Geralt shifts, cock slipping out of Jaskier, making him suck in a breath. He pushes himself up, worn and tired, muscles aching but in a good way. Jaskier sits up after him, making a face when come and slick rush out of him onto the ground. He wipes at the mess on his chest.
“Gods, look at me! I'm filthy! Disgusting! I hate this.”
He continues muttering to himself as Geralt finds them a place—away from that particular spot—to set up camp. He feels Jaskier’s eyes on him as he goes to Roach and starts pulling out their supplies, trailing over his naked body shamelessly. It makes the alpha in him preen and his cock twitch again.
He gives Jaskier a look, eyebrow raised and mouth curled in a smirk. “Like what you see?”
“Always,” Jaskier replies, meeting his eyes. He returns the smirk with one of his own. “But that’s not news to you, surely.”
It’s not, but it’s nice to hear, anyway.
By the time the fire is going, Jaskier’s scent has molasses mixed in it again, and Geralt lies back and lets him sit in his lap, doing what he pleases to get himself off. They collapse together afterwards, Jaskier sprawled on top of Geralt, trailing nimble fingers, bard’s fingers, over his chest, tracing scars and other inane patterns.
“You have ruined me for all others,” Jaskier says conversationally, dramatic as always. Geralt just grunts in response. “You have! There is no other on this planet—nor any others, I’d imagine—that pleasures me as you do! Is it a witcher talent or is it just you?”
Geralt reaches a hand up to Jaskier’s face, tilting his chin with a finger so that he’s looking in his eyes, and kisses him deep and lingering just to shut him up. Jaskier hums in content and lets himself be kissed.
Geralt figures it’s a decent end to a day that he knew was going to go to shit.
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garroterjuryandjudge · 5 years ago
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Ok but why do we not have a Geraskier Cowboy/Rodeo AU?
Geralt would make an amazing cowboy — he loves his horse more than most human beings, he drifts through towns looking just to make a little money, get a little drunk, and handle that there varmint problem, and while he's not well-spoken or social, the opposite really, he's still got a heart of gold.
And Jaskier, obviously, can be a traveling musician in any genre, but the idea of him heading West to avoid a cruddy rich family Back East feels particularly apt.
Blease guys, I need this.
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discopiratetanis · 5 years ago
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In a Earth where magic exists, an immortal lineage of noble wardens is responsible for protecting magical creatures from humans.
Jaskier, the young grandson of Queen Calanthe, Poland's ancestral guardian, arrives at the small town of Blaviken, a refuge for magical beings who do not wish to have contact with humans, to complete his training as a warden.
There, in that haven of peace and safety, he'll meet strange but good people who will help him to learn and understand the true importance of his heritage and what really means to be a warden.
magical town!Geraskier AU. Sets in a not historically accurate Poland during the eighties, specifically 1984. So there will be a little bit of socialism (but decent socialism) here and a few references to WWII in a good way.
This is solely for my pure personal pleasure, so it will have an erratic update dates, sorry. But I hope you like it! Likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciate and encourage me to continue, thank you! ❀
Rating: M (for the moment)
Words: 6888
Chapter: 1/of many
Characters who show up in this chapter: Jaskier (of course, is his POV), the pack of wolves, Filavandrel as a humbled lumberjack, Yennefer, Renfri and Regis. Honorable mentions to Queen Calanthe, the Seven Dwarfs, a sleepy greyhound and a happy old woman on her rocking chair.
N/A: There will be Valdo Marx X Jaskier during the course of the story, but obviously Geraskier is the endgame pair!
You can also read the chapter on AO3!
If you want to support me I have a ko-fi!
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It was raining when Jaskier got off the bus, a silent drizzle, a faint curtain of mist that you couldn't see if you didn't pay attention. But the air was wet. 
Very wet.
Surprise, Jaskier, water wets! the boy thought, moving away from the road so that the bus would not soak him when it marched over the puddles in the ditch. He stepped on the mud beyond the asphalt. The bus stop was a simple wooden post, marked with a blue metal rectangle on which the number fifty-eight had been painted white. The road had two narrow lanes, one southbound, the other northbound. And everything else around was wilderness. Green, silent, lonely, deep woods. Jaskier grunted, hung better his duffel bag over his shoulder, and pulled a small piece of paper and a compass out of the front pocket of it.
"Alright," he said aloud, before reading what it had written on the paper, already getting wet because of the rain.
From the sixth stop of bus number fifty-eight, walk west until you find a big gray oak tree. Once you have arrived, pass underneath and continue straight ahead, Blaviken will appear before you.
If you encounter the wolves don't be afraid, they'll smell your magic and probably leave you alone.
The directions were simple but not much revealing. He knew it was for safety but. Jaskier clicked his tongue, crumpled the note into a ball, put it back in the pocket and opened the compass. Tiny dips blurred the glass, but the needle pointing north indicated the direction the bus had gone, so he looked on both sides of the road, crossed to the other side, and walked straight ahead, into the trees. Soon his silhouette was lost in the mist as if he had never been there. 
The leaves crunched under his feet with an eerie noise at every step he took. The rain seemed to drown out the sounds of the woods, but Jaskier could still hear the peep of the boldest and bravest birds not scared by a little water. The wind was weak but sharp against the boy’s wet skin, who tried in vain to dry his cheeks and forehead every few moments with his also wet sleeve. It had been stupid not to grab an umbrella, despite his grandma's advice before he had parted his way, but it had been hellishly sunny in Warsaw for being September so he had felt rebellious and had dressed up with cotton trousers and a linen shirt with a lightweight wool jacket. Now he was starting to think that he was an idiot. The weather could be part of Blaviken's protection, yes. No traveler would want to get lost in those woodlands, in the middle of nowhere near mountains full of wolves and bears. But he also could be just a silly boy who had not taken an umbrella because he thought it would be sunny all over the country at the same time. At least he had his mountain boots.
It didn't take long for Jaskier to reach the tree that said the note, a huge gray oak in the middle of the forest. The boy stopped in front of it, noticing immediately that the rain was no longer drenching him. He checked the compass one last time before closing it and putting it in the bag. Then he took a deep breath. Yes, the tree was enormous. His trunk was so broad that Jaskier would need the help of ten more people to encircle it with his arms completely. It was covered with moss and tiny mushrooms everywhere and its branches stretched in all directions high in the sky, coating all the smaller trees within meters with their leafage. And then there was the hollow, the passage. It looked like an enchanted path, like those described in fairy tales. 
Jaskier stepped into the entrance and looked up, tightening the strap of his bag. The way under the oak was not very long so he could see the other side of the tunnel perfectly. He walked slowly through that natural corridor of wet bark and lichen, fascinated, still looking up and around, amazed with all the magical static in the atmosphere. When he reached the end of the tunnel and came out into the open air again, the sun was shining and a cool, pleasant breeze shook his hair, playfully, and dried his clothes. A huge knee-high grassy clearing, sprinkled with yellow and white flowers, opened up before him. He reached the clearing with renewed energy, making his way through the grass and flowers under the sun, suddenly feeling that he was breathing much better, that his lungs were filling up with clear, clean air. There the birds sang louder, stronger, more beautifully.
Jaskier smiled.
He was in the middle of the meadow when he heard the rustling of a branch, the brushing of bushes and leaves on his back. Jaskier turned around, feeling his heart racing. 
His throat went dry. 
There, by the entrance to the oak tree, stood an enormous grey wolf. The animal was easily two heads taller than Jaskier himself, who was about five feet and nine inches tall. Its fur was streaked with darker flecks, and their dark green eyes glared the boy with interest. Jaskier didn't make any move and repressed a whimper, as if he feared the animal would jump on him with the slightest hint of activity. Then a new crackle made him look, this time to his left, and see another wolf, only one head taller than Jaskier. This one had murky brown fur and its right ear torn and ripped, probably by another wolf or a bear. It was wagging its tail quickly, staring at the boy. Jaskier blinked, feeling an awful and cold sense running up his back. A third wolf equally tall as the second one, with light hazel fur, appeared near the dark brown one. Both had intense green eyes.
Then, Jaskier remembered the note. 
And it hit him.
It was weird. Even having been born and raised in the court of one of the great queens of the wardens, among magic and elements of all kinds, even though he had to know that these wolves were not merely wolves, Jaskier felt that he was an intruder. 
The third wolf growled, low. 
Jaskier swallowed.
“Uh, okay, alright,” he said, not sure if for himself or for the wolfs. “Uh, I
 !” he tightened the strap of his backpack again as if that could calm him. “My name is–" he hesitated only for a second. "Jaskier! I came to Blaviken to train as a warden, Queen Calanthe told me to come here!” he paused again, looking at all the wolfs successively as he stood still, anxious, knowing that probably the animals were smelling his nervousness. He licked his lips, feeling his throat cracked and tight and, of course, still dry. “I’m
 I’m sorry if I have bothered you stepping into your territory?!
The animals did not react to his words, except for the arrival of a fourth wolf, which emerged slowly among the bushes and foliage next to the big one and the oak tree. Its fur was white as freshly fallen snow, the cleanest, purest, most beautiful white that Jaskier had ever seen. It was slightly bigger than the smaller wolves, but not as large as the one in front of the tunnel. Its eyes were golden and gleamed bright and luminous, like the sun, like an endless field of mature wheat. Jaskier held his breath, looking directly at the white wolf, feeling dazzled and astounded.
It was as if time had stopped.
But then the grey wolf let out a hoarse bark, making Jaskier feel a chill, and the other three left immediately, disappearing just as they had appeared: from nowhere and in silence. 
Jaskier exhaled all the air he was holding back, without taking his eyes off the animal. The wolf wagged his tail once, turned around and went into the trees next to the oak. The sound of paws scratching the ground, rustling leaves and twigs echoed for two seconds in the sudden silence of the clearing. Then that silence was broken by the joyful chirping of the birds and the breath of the wind.
Jaskier blinked, confused, still a little scared. He turned around as well, facing west, and ran. He did not look back even once.
* * * *
Blaviken was a little town located next to a lake nestled in a small valley between two arms of the mountain range. Jaskier discovered that because he not only had to go through the forest that hid it from the west, but he also had to go up the slope of the mountain to the entrance of the valley, where the river that drained the lake emerged from the ground a ran down the woods and the steep hills. By the time the boy reached the entrance of the canyon, the sun had already passed its zenith and was approaching the first hour of the afternoon. He stopped to rest near the road, a path full of grass that must have been carved by the wild animals.
Or the wolves.
Jaskier took a canteen out of his bag and took a sip of water. From there he could see the lake, so long that he almost couldn't discern its birth at the west; the mountains still with snow on their peaks, and the town itself. Jaskier had seen Blaviken's engravings and photographs. It was a picturesque, bucolic village, which did not seem to have changed much in centuries. It had the look of a medieval town, with a main street that was connecting the goat path and the entrance of the valley with the first houses, and was leading through the village to a central square where there was a fountain with a statue. Its houses, made of wood and stone, had two floors with smoking chimneys, orchards surrounded by small wooden fences, small sheds, barns... The more distant shacks were surrounded by larger fields of crops and fruit trees. A few horses and cows were grazing in the pastures that surrounded the village. 
Jaskier took another sip of water and inhaled deeply. The air smelled and felt pure, fresh and lighter, healthier, than in Warsaw. In the distance, he could hear the squealing of the pigs and the rumor and echo of Blaviken's life. It seemed very peaceful... Jaskier bit his lips, put the canteen in the bag and stood up to continue the march. He knew that even though the village seemed to be close because of the slopes, the nooks and crannies, in reality it could be at least another hour's walk downhill.
He wasn't wrong, it took him an hour and a half to get to Blaviken. 
There weren't many people at the entrance to the town. The first houses looked more like huts and storage sheds than real houses. A man with long blond hair tied in a ponytail and dressed with thick work pants and flannel shirt, was cutting wood near the main street road, next to one of the shacks. A pile of perfectly cut logs was piled against the wall of the shed, along with other smaller pieces made into more manageable firewood. A few hens with their chicks were pecking at the ground, paying no attention to any passers-by. A black dog, a greyhound, with a collar made of a leather band was lying, merrily asleep, not far from the log cabin. Jaskier took a deep breath and approached the man, being careful enough not to do it from behind.
"Excuse me?" he said.
The man, who had just finished splintering the log he was busy with, stopped, stood up with his axe in his hand and looked at the boy. Then Jaskier saw his pointy ears and noticed his strangely beautiful features, halfway between roughness and delicacy, and his so intense raven eyes. Jaskier blinked. The man, the elf, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, narrowing his eyes a little.
"You're the kid, aren't you?"
His voice was melodious, like thick honey sliding down a wooden spoon. Jaskier cleared his throat.
"Uh... yes, I suppose?" he frowned, confused. "Could you tell me where Renfri lives? 
 The elf nodded and turned a bit towards the main street.
"Go straight on to the square, the house with the red roof is hers, you can't miss it," he said.
Jaskier peeked out a little. The road, even though it was the main artery of the village, was not very wide. From there you could see the fountain with the statue, but not much more. 
"Thank you, uh..."
The elf smiled warmly.
"Filavandrel,"
Jaskier looked and smiled back at him.
"Jaskier,"
Filavandrel nodded again. He was watching Jaskier a bit curious, inquisitive. Jaskier parted his lips, feeling as the elf knew something he didn't quite understand. He was about to ask if there was something wrong when Filavandrel turned around to clean the supporting trunk of the pieces he had cut off and put a new log on top. He picked up the axe and cut it cleanly in half. Jaskier made a tired sound and headed for the square.
"Thank you again,"
Behind his back, Filavandrel continued with his task and responded:
"See you around!"
Jaskier advanced step by step down the street, trying not to look around too much as if it were the first time he had set foot there. It didn't matter anyway because every person who crossed his path gave him an odd look, except for a few groups of random kids who were more interested in his current games than in a stranger. The village was tiny, Jaskier knew that one glance was enough for everyone to know that he was the new face.
The new toy 
The toy
Jaskier flinched and made a grimace at the thought.
The square was wide and long as four houses together, surely buildings for more important things than storing wood or food. The central fountain was an oval structure, made of very old stone eaten away by the years. Several springs of water flowed from the pipes rooted in the pedestal of the sculpture that adorned the fountain. Jaskier stopped for a moment to admire it. It was made of bronze, already rusty with green, and depicted eight figures, five women and three men. Seven of the statues were smaller than the eighth, located in the center of the pedestal, and they held up both rifles and swords with a defensive, dignified, and heroic attitude. They wore clothes that were at least forty years old. Jaskier held his breath for a second. The eighth figure was a young woman whose impressively realistic expression denoted loneliness and sadness. She also wore old-fashioned clothing from decades ago, on which she had a hooded cloak clasped with a fancy brooch. She carried a spear and a gun in a defeated stance. Jaskier looked down and saw a plaque, made of degraded bronze too, which read:
In memory of the brave men and women
who protected Blaviken from the nazis
The boy blinked. And then his eyes started to sting. He contemplated the memorial for a long time, in silence, unaware of the people, both those who were passing by and those who were quietly at the doors of their houses chatting with their neighbors or simply resting, that were staring at him more and more curiously. 
"Hello,"
A soft, gentle voice drove Jaskier from his thoughts. As he looked at, Jaskier saw a deformed hunchback girl with black, wavy hair, pale skin, and absurdly beautiful lilac-colored eyes. She was wearing a brown woolen dress and a blue apron with a pocket from which hung a bouquet of flowers and several colored rags, and carrying a large earthenware jar in her arms which she started to fill it under one of the pipes.
"Oh, uh, hello," Jaskier replied. Then the girl looked away from him to see how much she was filling the container. Jaskier contemplated her with genuine interest as if her task was the most interesting thing in the world. "So it's potable, the water, right?" he said a little awkward.
She giggled, still not looking at him, attentive to her chore.
"Yes, it's from the mountain, "
"Ah,"
"The pedestal also has a purifier,"
"Oh," Jaskier glance at the pipes. "Oh, yeah, right,"
The boy was silent then, not exactly uncomfortable, and certainly not quite sure if the girl wanted something from him or she just had greeted him because in little towns everyone greeted everyone whether they knew them or not. Jaskier wondered what kind of creature she was. It was, and it would be, very rude to ask that to someone you had just met, and Jaskier didn't have enough experience or expertise to guess the nature of a creature by sight alone yet. His grandmother could do that even with her eyes closed, only by analyzing the magical pulse and the auras around someone.
"So... can I ask your name?" Jaskier said, watching the water pouring into the jar, again as if it was terribly interesting. 
He knew he only had to walk away with a 'see you later' to go and find Renfri, but he was going to live there all year round, so it was all right to have a little chat with the rest of the locals if he has the chance. And she had been kind enough to address him without pointing out that he was new around even if it was something so obvious.
"Yes, of course," she looked up, with those stunningly beautiful purple eyes that were smiling even if she wasn't. A warm feeling ran down his back and he felt much better, less nervous and more relaxed. "I’m Yennefer, but you can call me Yen if you want, is what my friends call me,”
“Oh,” Jaskier raised his eyebrows. “That’s
 Are you sure? You have just met me, I'm not exactly your friend,”
"Right, but you're going to be our warden, so..."
"Well, technically I'm an apprentice–wait, how do you know?" Jasper arched his eyebrows.
"Oh, I just know," she smiled and raised the jar to the thick edge of the fountain. Then she embraced it and lifted it with some effort.
"H-Hey, do you want me to help you?" Jaskier took two steps towards her, almost extending his hands to help her hold her load.
Yennefer shook his head without being bothered by the weight at all.
"Don't worry, I can handle it myself,” she said, cheerfully and definitely not annoyed, and starting to walk away. "See you later, Jaskier"
Jaskier blinked without answering and watcher her until she disappeared around the corner from the southbound street. 
What the hell has just happened?
When he looked to one of the nearby houses, he saw an old woman sitting in a rocking chair, who chose that exact moment to wave jovially at him. Jaskier blinked again and waved back, perplex. Then he shook his head and headed for the red-roofed building. 
It was like every other house in the village, made of stone and wood with two floors. Its windows were half-open, with curtains of floral motifs full of patches. Jaskier looked up in case he saw anything through the windows, but the curtains were flapping with the breeze and blocking the view, so he went to the door and raised his hand to knock. He stopped at the sight of the heavy, corroded iron knocker shaped like a sun half-hidden by a moon. He touched it, lost, feeling that the shape was familiar somehow. But he didn't think much more about it and knocked three times with blows that sounded hard and cavernous.
He waited.
And waited.
And when it was clear that nobody was home, Jaskier pouted for himself and turned around.
"If you are looking for Renfri she is in the tavern right now!" The old woman on the rocking chair exclaimed without stopping its swing.
Jaskier looked at her, feeling dumb.
"Oh, oh, thanks!" he said and asked immediately after. "Errrr, sorry
 where's the tavern?"
He saw the smile spreading on her wrinkly lips.
"Across the square, that building with the little cute drawing of a tankard hanging over the door!" she replied.
Jaskier nodded, trying then to appear confident, and bowed too much pompous and grandiloquent.
"Thanks, nice old lady!" he said.
"You're welcome, young man!"
Jaskier snorted, hung better his bag, and walked towards the aforementioned edifice. It was another house almost indistinguishable from the others except for that sign hanging over the door like in the soap opera stories about Robin Hood. He could hear voices coming from inside. Jaskier took a deep breath and walked in as if he were putting his hand into the mouth of a bear. 
The interior of the bar was exactly like the taverns that could be seen in the few films that the polish government agreed to show in cinemas: a long wooden counter that looked old and worn but was actually very well cared for, long tables for several people, round tables for smaller groups, barrels and bottles behind the counter. The tiny modern touches that broke the illusion consisted of an old TV placed on a shelf full of glass bottles next to the most visible wall of the establishment, the beer dispensers, the radio on the shelves behind the counter, and some photographs, both in black and white and in color, of the town and the surrounding area. On the TV there was what appeared to be a match with the polish national football team, and it seemed to have the few customers engrossed with it. Jaskier took a quick glance at the screen and slowly approached the counter. Behind it was an older-looking man with short gray hair, very pale skin and dark eyes. His features were sharp, hard, as if he were rock polished by time. He was dressed soberly but elegantly, with clothes that did not quite fit in a place like that. When the man looked at him, serious and severe, Jaskier felt a huge, dense weight on his shoulders, as if someone suddenly sat on him and would not let him breathe. But that feeling immediately faded as the barman, who was drying a line of glasses, raised his eyebrows weakly and blinked. 
Jaskier swallowed, thinking that those eyes looked terribly deep and old. And that they knew everything.
"You are the boy," the man said. 
The clients hissed in frustration and disgust, still oblivious to Jaskier's arrival.
"Uhm...yes?" Jaskier said, feeling he was repeating himself. "I was looking for Renfri, someone told me she was here," he said, glancing around.
He didn't need to be told who Renfri was. Jaskier immediately located the woman, sitting at one of the small round tables farthest from the door and the television cabinet. She was half lying on the table, with a metal cup in her outstretched hand and her face resting on the other arm, as if she were...
"Is she... drunk?" Jaskier asked.
The man sighed, resigned.
"Luckily not, no, not yet," he replied.
"Not yet," Jaskier repeated.
The barman made a sad grimace but didn’t add anything more about it. Instead, he said:
"Sit with her, you must be tired from the journey,"
Jaskier let out a deep exhausted, and only a little dramatic, sigh.
"A little, yes, this place hasn't exactly been easy to find,"
The man smiled.
"Do you want something to drink?" he asked.
Jaskier put one arm on the counter, glancing at the barrels behind it, searching.
"Do you have Tyskie?" he inquired. 
Then he noticed the smell. He knew it was coming from the owner of the bar. It was a heavy, not entirely unpleasant smell, a mixture of thick, wet earth and lavender, a curiously unique perfume for a man. Jaskier swallowed. The bartender grimaced and picked up a clean tankard from under the counter. He went to the dispensers and placed it at a certain angle under one of them.
"I assume you're legal, right?" he said.
"Well, technically I'm forty-eight, if that doesn't make me legal..." Jaskier shrugged, trying to inhale not too hard.
The man pulled the lever on the dispenser, shaking his head with a snort.
"In human terms, yes, but if we calculate your real age you would be about... what, eighteen, nineteen years old? You almost didn't pass,"
"What can I say?"
The man poured the beer, a fresh pint with a crown of white foam. Jaskier grabbed the tankard with both hands and started to head for Renfri's table, from where she hadn't moved an inch. A wave of whispers and hisses indicated that a play in the match had not gone well.
"Thank you, sir,"
"No, no formalities. You're going to be spending a lot of time here, you call me Regis, "
Well, that's...
"Sure, thanks, Regis,"
Jaskier sat quietly at Renfri's table, leaving his tankard in the gap that she did not occupy with her body and arm. As soon as he touched the table surface, Renfri raised her head like a cat caught by surprise. Jaskier stared at her, taking a sip of his beer as she narrowed her eyes, slowly, and wrinkled her nose, finally rising to rest her back on the chair. She looked exactly the same as in the fountain sculpture, with slightly longer hair, a more wavy mane. But his eyes were just as sad.
Terribly sad.
The two watched each other silently for minutes, Jaskier sipping from his tankard, and Renfri holding her metal cup, making no attempt to drink from it, if there was any drink left. From the corner of his eye, Jaskier saw Regis and various of the clients who had been watching the game up until then, were very attentive to them. Jaskier licked his lips and clicked his tongue, not taking his eyes off the woman who had to train him in the ancient arts of the wardens from that day forward. He thought his grandmother had a slightly strange sense of humor, sending him to a little town like that, and to a warden with alcohol problems.
He couldn’t blame her, though, if he had the statue in mind.
But still...
“So
” he said, realizing that she wasn't going to be the one to break the ice first. He also noticed that she was looking at him in a very cautious way, scrutinizing him as if she was taking note of each and every one of his features, the color of his eyes, the shape of his face, the arch of his nose, the curve of his lips, or was estimating the number of moles he could have, or looking for the exact words to describe the color of his hair. “I’m here
”
Jaskier counted five seconds. When he was about to open his mouth again, the woman spoke and her voice sounded also tired and exhausted, though definitely sober thanks to God.
“Yeah, you are here,” she scoffed, blinked slowly and made a weak grimace. Then she drank from her cup and whipped the remained drops off her lips with the back of her hand “Let's make this easy, okay?”
“Okay?” Jaskier raised his eyebrows.
“There's not much to do in this place really, but since the queen is so interested in you finishing your training here, I'll do my best to fulfill her wish,"
Jaskier noticed the clear, perfect tone of sarcasm in her voice as if she was deeply annoyed that Calanthe had sent him there and didn't like the idea at all. He felt a bitter, awful sensation in the pit of his stomach and swallowed hard. It hurt him as if he had a stone stuck in his throat.
“Okay,” he said, lower.
She huffed.
"Today it's late and I've finished all the tasks, but tomorrow morning I'll start teaching you. I usually get up at sunrise, so I expect you to do the same,"
“Okay,”
Then she smiled leaned a little over the table, resting her arms on it.
"So... everything’s okay?"
Jaskier blinked, baffled.
"Uh
 yes?"
"Has anyone said anything to you?"
"Uh... No?"
Renfri glanced at the rest of the bar. Jaskier followed her gaze. The clients turned around on their seats immediately, except for Regis, who slowly looked down with a sigh. More and more Jaskier had the feeling that something was going on or people knew something he didn't understand. And it was starting to get a little bit annoying for him.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
Renfri looked at him with a flat and apparently disinterested expression.
"Nothing," she replied. "As I was saying, rules. Luckily for both of us, I have two bathrooms at home, yours is upstairs. Take a bath before you go to sleep, you won't have time in the morning. We have access to hot water but don't waste it or I'll kill you, do you understand?"
"Yes,"
"Good," Renfri took another sip from her cup, pensive. Jaskier did the same, staring at her intently. "We'll have breakfast here at the bar, then we'll start with the routine duties. At noon we’ll eat here again and continue until we finish whatever needs to be done. There are days when you finish early, but others..." she grimaced.
"Yeah, sure, I understand,"
"Don't worry, kid, you'll do fine. As I said, there's not much to do really, it's a small town,"
Jaskier nodded and took the last drink, then reached into the pockets of the bag, looking for the purse. Renfri snorted.
"Don't bother, we barely use money here," she said.
"But–"
"You'll pay him with your wardenship, it works that way,"
Jaskier arched an eyebrow.
"Let me guess, everyone lets you pay by doing your job,"
For the first time since he had sat at Renfri's table, Jaskier saw the outline of a faint, small smile on her lips.
"You'll understand," she mumbled. Then she handed him her cup and waved him up. "Go on, be a good boy and get me more drink, and ask Regis to make us dinner,"
Jaskier pursed his lips, took his tankard and Renfri’s cup and went to the counter, where Regis was still drying glasses as if seconds before he hadn't been watching them.
"She wants–" Jaskier started to say.
"I know, I heard her, don't worry," Regis put down the rag and the glass in his hands, took Jaskier's cup and tankard and brought new ones. When Jaskier looked at him he saw his old, tired eyes and felt a wave, like a vibration in the air, of concern that sent a chill down his back. Regis sighed again. "You'll have to be patient with her, it's the first time–" The man hesitated for a second, as if he was looking for the right words. "It's the first time she has an apprentice,"
Jaskier blinked, suppressing the urge to look at her. A little further down the line, at the end of the counter, the spectators at the game were cheering their team on to score. Jaskier clicked his tongue.
"I see..." he whispered.
Was that it? Am I the first student she has?
"Do you like leek soup?" Regis asked then, leaving the new drinks in front of the boy.
Jaskier blinked, and thought about how little he had eaten soup in his life just because his grandmother didn't let the cooks prepare lower class meals in the palace.
"Sure," he said, nodding enthusiastically.
He took the cup and the tankard and brought them to Renfri's table, which was waiting impatiently for his return. The woman took her drink with energy and gave a sip. Jaskier sighed.
They drank in relative silence, Renfri more and more concentrated in her cup and Jaskier feeling more and more tired, both from the trip and from the alcohol. By the time Regis brought each of them a bowl of soup, both were lost in their own thoughts. The man gave them a silent glance before giving them the spoons and returning to the counter. The bar had been left empty, with the game about to end and the few remaining customers marching home for dinner. 
Jaskier tasted a spoonful of soup after blowing on it a little and found a myriad of flavors so strong and delicious that he thought it was probably the best soup in the world. Not only did he notice the leek, but there was also potato, carrot, onion, he even rosemary and pepper, all perfectly mixed together. The soup wasn't quite broth, it was thick enough to melt in your mouth. After a whole trip based on cold meat sandwiches, that first hot meal in Blaviken would be forever his favorite.
Jaskier might have cried for joy if he hadn't had Renfri watching him over her own bowl with a strange expression. Jaskier swallowed the soup and looked at her.
"What?" he inquired.
Renfri instantly looked down, at his own food. She did not answer. The boy pressed his lips and stirred the soup with the spoon, watching the potato and leek lumps go around. He ate one, thinking. As he swallowed, he looked up again.
"Renfri?" he said.
"Hm?" She made no attempt to pay more attention to him.
"Can I ask you something?"
She shrugged.
"What's up?"
Jaskier licked his lips, feeling the taste of the soup. He took a deep breath.
"On my way here, after crossing the tree passage... I came across four giant wolves. They were... Are they from here, from Blaviken?"
Renfri took a quick and
 a curious look at him.
"Yes, of course they're from here. You noticed they weren't normal, right?"
"Well, yes," Jaskier stirred in his seat. "So they're werewolves?"
She nodded.
"Vesemir and his pups, they help me to patrol Blaviken's territory. It's pretty huge and it would take me weeks by myself. If you saw them at the tree entrance they'll be back in two or three days,"
"Ah,"
"I'll introduce you to them when they get back, although... they probably know you better than you know them by now,"
"Oh, yeah? How?" He sounded more interested than concerned.
"The smell. There's no one in all of Blaviken with a better sense of smell. Vesemir could track you back to Warsaw if he wanted to. And in the rain. If you've seen them, they'll have smelled you enough to know your trouser size,”
Jaskier whimpered and took another spoonful. So he had made a bit of a fool of himself in that clearing. Renfri snorted.
"Don't worry, they're wolves, the most harmless and friendly creatures in town,"
"Really?"
"Really,"
"Regis doesn't look dangerous," Jaskier said, pointing his head at the bartender.
Renfri snorted again and leaned over the table a little and lower her voice.
"Regis could break you in half, though before that he'd sink his fangs into your neck and drink all your blood in one gulp,"
Jaskier opened his eyes wide and arched his eyebrows, suddenly feeling his throat dry. Of course, the smell of earth...
"I wouldn't do that, don't be absurd," Regis said from the counter. Jaskier looked at him. Although the man had the same calm expression as before, the boy noticed the irritation in his tone of voice. "Don't put such old-fashioned ideas into the kid, please,"
"But is it true?" Jaskier held his breath, turning in his seat to look at the man.
Then Renfri burst into a clean, heartfelt laugh that somehow that made Jaskier's heart skip a beat. 
"What?" Regis asked.
"Could you break a person in half? Or drink their blood in one gulp?"
Regis looked at him in complete and utter disbelief, and resignation. Renfri's laughter slowly faded. He gave Renfri an annoying look for instigating such questions and then grunted. 
"I could. Split someone in half I mean. Drink five liters of blood in one sitting? No, ancestors no. And I wouldn't sink my teeth into your neck either, there's too much muscle to go through. If I wanted to drink someone else's blood, I would first ask them nicely and then, if they said yes, I would drink from their wrist, or forearm,"
"What a gentleman," Renfri mocked, eating his soup.
"Oh, shut up, Renfri,"
She laughed again, much shorter and lower than before. Jaskier felt excited.
A pack of werewolves
A vampire
An elf
And whatever Yennefer was.
He had known from the beginning that this town was a refuge for magical creatures, but he had imagined goblins, elves, yes, okay, maybe some trolls, but werewolves, vampires? All he knew about them was from reading books that not even his tutors wanted him to read.
"Hey, don't look so excited and finish eating that, you'll want to go to bed early tonight," Renfri said, pointing him with her spoon.
Jaskier bit his lips, thinking fast and concentrated on eating what was left of the soup and drinking the beer. Renfri grunted approvingly and ended up with his own dinner.
By the time they left the tavern, it was already dark and there was no one left on the street. The sound of the animals in the village had turned into a silence broken only by the singing of the crickets and the sound of the families finishing their own dinners. There was little light, no lamppost. When Jaskier looked up, he could see the dark blue and purple sky dotted with millions of twinkling stars. He did not need to make an effort to discern the trail of the Milky Way over the lake.
He had never seen it before.
It was beautiful.
"Hey,"
Renfri got his attention. Jaskier swallowed, stopped gawking at the sky, and walked faster to follow in his master's footsteps. Once in the square and in front of the red-roofed house, Renfri took a rather large and quirky key out of his pocket. He opened the door with it.
Inside, the house looked like a ghost hostel. 
Jaskier didn't have time to explore much, Renfri made him climb the stairs, made of crisp, dry wood, up to the second floor. There, in addition to the aforementioned second bathroom, there was a corridor with seven little rooms where, with luck, a bed would fit. In some of them there were small closets. Jaskier chose one of the rooms with a wardrobe, which had one of the windows with flower curtains overlooking the square.
"Remember, at dawn," Renfri said, before he went down the stairs back to the bottom floor.
Inside his new tiny room, Jaskier heard the sound of a door closing. When he was sure Renfri would not return, he sighed deeply, left his bag on the bed, a mattress with no sheets or blankets ready, and closed the window. He also drew the curtains. The window faced north, so it wouldn't get much light during the day, but.
He didn't think he'd be spending much time in that room anyway.
He took the bag off the bed and opened the closet. He found several bed sets, so he picked the first one in the pile and he laid out the sheets, the pillow, and the quilt. Then he opened his bag and took out what little clothing he had brought with him. Only clothes, no personal belongings that were not strictly necessary. He found his toothbrush and toothpaste at the bottom of the bag, along with the hairbrush. Jaskier brushed his teeth while filling the bathtub. He was grateful to find soap in the bathroom cabinet. He also took note of the first aid supplies he had. He assumed Renfri didn't spend much time in the house either, judging by how poorly conditioned it was. It didn't matter. Jaskier took a towel and his pajamas into the bathroom. 
It took him a lot less time than it used to at home to take a bath, and not because he was sleepy.
When he came out of the bathroom, with his pajamas on and the towel over his shoulders, he walked down the hall and past the empty rooms quickly to his own. He closed the door and breathed a long sigh. Even if he did not smell closed or old, or a house that had not been used in a long time, Jaskier sensed an energetic tension in there. 
He couldn't explain what it was.
Bit it was
 nasty.
He turned off the light and got into bed looking at the door. There was silence, a tight silence. Jaskier gripped the sheets with his fingers. With all his senses alert, he only heard that silence. Not the crickets outside, not Renfri at the bottom floor. He held his breath.
But he was tired, so he soon closed his eyes, and his mind wandered into forests full of crisp leaves, vampires serving beer, and golden-eyed white wolves. It was fast.
That night Jaskier did not dream, exhausted, and slept soundly.
So soundly that he did not notice that, after midnight, the door of his room opened slowly with a faint squeak and stayed open all night.
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helianthus-hellion · 5 years ago
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a scrapped excerpt from the upcoming third chapter of my East of the Sun, West of the Moon Geraskier AU - the second chapter just went up today, will reblog with the link
[B]ut he didn’t leave the piano either, letting his fingers dance gently over the keys instead, humming softly to the new tune he played. Eventually he found a rhythm to it, found the series of chords that felt right, and he began to put lyrics to the notes, murmuring them quietly to himself, a song about snow and the roots and seeds that lay below the frozen earth, waiting to bloom in the sun they could only hope would come.
When he felt the song was done, he did stand, turning to find a pencil and some paper and stumbling back to see the wolf standing in the doorway, staring as if he could see right through him. “Is there something I can do for you, or are you just going to stand there ominously?”
Wanted to listen. The wolf had the grace to look marginally chagrined, at least, which only served to embolden Jaskier.
“Right, well, show’s over and I need to write that down before I forget it, so if you’ll excuse me.” He opened the door wider, pushing brazenly past the wolf, figuring if it hadn’t killed him yet it was unlikely to do so now, and going back to his room. He fished through his pack for his journal and a pencil, opening to the first blank page and pausing, pencil poised above the page in his shaking hand. The facing page held a sketch Natalia had done when he had first visited her after Cecylia’s birth, of him holding his infant niece like she was the most precious thing in the entire world. A sob choked its way from his throat, tears blurring the sketch from his vision even as he traced his fingertips over the pen strokes. The full weight of all he had lost hit him like a physical blow to the chest, squeezing his heart behind his ribcage, and he crumpled to the floor, wracked with sobs.
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ohnomybreadsticks · 3 years ago
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Since I’m actually starting to enjoy writing again I thought I’d treat myself to something I always love: some AUs! :D
Back in August 2019 I wrote 31 unique pairing/AU combos for DBH, and I’ve decided to do that again for the Witcher! I made a list of 30 AUs and 30 pairings and mashed them together for maximum challenge fun. I won’t be publishing every day cause that’s just not reasonable for me rn, but I’ll just keep chipping away at it till they’re all gone c:
Without further ado, here is the list I’ll be working with:
Modern Witchers AU: Geralt/Renfri
Role reversal AU: Ciri/Cerys
Wild west AU: Lambden
Tolkien AU: Geraskier
Robot AU: Yennskier
Steampunk AU: Yenralt
Angel and Demon AU: Geskel
Cryptid/ghost hunter AU: Lamskel
Youtuber AU: Geralt & Ciri
Bodyguard AU: Geralt/Borch
Succubus AU: Lambert/Eskel/Cahir/Aiden
College AU: Eist/Calanthe
Coffeeshop AU: Platonic wolfpack
Popstar AU: Geralt/Regis
Merpeople AU: Fringilla/Renfri
Farmer’s Market AU: Jaskier/Vesemir
Home renovator AU: Yennefer/Istredd
Pirate AU: Jaskier/Filavandrel
Detective AU: Keira Metz/Lambert
Reincarnation AU: Yennefer/Tissaia
Elder gods AU: Vesemir/Luka
Gothic prairie horror AU: Geralt/Triss
Fandom AU: Fringilla & Cahir
Onlyfans AU: Geraskefer
Shapeshifter AU: Jaskier & Yennefer
Petshop AU: Trisskel
Spy AU: Jaskier/Chireaden
Equestrian AU: Vesemir/Filavandrel
Long distance AU: Trissefer
Biker AU: Yengilla
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na-mmu · 3 years ago
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BACK TO WEST   - Geraskier modern AU
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オヌストラリアを舞台にしたgeraskier珟パロ小説。 ギタヌ片手に䞀人旅をするダスキ゚ルず䌑暇䞭のゲラルトがシドニヌで出䌚い、目的地のパヌスぞ向けおキャンピングカヌでオヌストラリア暪断の旅に出る物語です。 ※巊右衚蚘は、ゲラ/ダスからのゲラ/ダス/ゲラ(リバ)です。この物語䞊ではゲラ/ダスの郚分のみになりたす。ややこしくおすいたせん
Chapter 1 黄色のゎミ収集車
Chapter 2 旅の蚈画
Chapter 3 旅の始たり
Chapter 4 ハングリヌバヌド
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na-mmu · 3 years ago
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BACK TO WEST   4   - Geraskier modern AU
Chapter 4 ハングリヌバヌド
「君の髪、すごく綺麗だね」  組んだ手の甲に顎をのせながらうっずりずした顔でダスキ゚ルが蚀うず、向かいの垭に座る癜い髪の男――ゲラルトは、眉を寄せお手元のメニュヌから顔をあげた。 「それっお染めおるわけじゃないんだよな」 「ああ 地毛だ」 「そうなんだ、珍しい色だよね。光に照らされるずさ、銀色に光っおずおも奇麗だよ」  ゲラルトは目線だけを暪ぞ向けるず「 ありがずう」ず居心地の悪そうな顔で返事をした。 「よく蚀われるだろ」 「 そうでもない」 「ほんずにこんなに玠敵なのに」  ダスキ゚ルが驚いたように返すず、ゲラルトは䜕も答えず固い衚情のたた手元のメニュヌぞず芖線を戻した。ダスキ゚ルはすでに泚文する料理を決めおいたので、メニュヌを芋る代わりに海ぞず芖線を向けた。倪陜の光を受けた氎面がキラキラず茝いおいる。  二人はレストランのテラス垭に座っおいた。ず蚀っおも店の前の歩道にテヌブルが䞊べられおいるだけの簡玠なテラス垭だった。テヌブルの間を瞫うように進む通行人が二人の暪を通り過ぎおいく。少し萜ち着きはないかもしれないけれど、オヌストラリアの陜気を堪胜しながらランチを味わうにはこのテヌブルがもっおこいだろう。すぐそばに立぀、葉の生い茂った街路暹が二人のテヌブルに心地よい日陰を䜜っおいた。朚挏れ日がゲラルトの頭に降り泚ぎ、日の圓たるずころだけその癜い髪が銀色に光っおいる。その光景が矎しくお、い぀たでも眺めおいられそうだずダスキ゚ルは思った。  レストランの向かいには、タヌコむズブルヌの海をたたえたシドニヌの入江が広がっおいた。  ダスキ゚ルずゲラルトは、ただシドニヌにいたのだった。  意気揚々ずロヌチ――ゲラルトのキャンピングカヌに乗り蟌んだものの、出発しおから五分も経たないうちにダスキ゚ルの腹が盛倧に鳎ったので、たずは先にランチを枈たせおおこうずロヌチを停めお近くのレストランぞ入ったのだった。The Butcher's Blockず店名の曞かれたレストラン正面の倧きなガラスが倪陜を反射し眩しく光っおいた。  䜓長が五十センチメヌトル以䞊はありそうな倧きな鳥が、ゆっくりずした動きでテラス垭の間を歩いおいた。長いクチバシの先端から銖の途䞭たでが真っ黒で、頭郚に぀いおいるはずの目がその黒に埋もれお少し䞍気味な印象を䞎えおいる。䜓は汚れおいるのかくすんだ癜色で、尟矜は黒かった。その倧きな鳥が食べ物を探すようにテヌブルの䞋を圷埚っおいる。ゲラルトは特に気にしおいない様子なので、どうやらその蟺によくいる鳥のようだ。昚日もホステルの近くで芋かけたのを思い出した。こんなに倧きな鳥が圓たり前に近くにいる事がなんだか䞍思議だった。むギリスだず動物園か、よっぜど自然の倚い堎所でしか芋られないだろう。  少しするず、さっき二人を案内しおくれたラテン系の若い女性スタッフが黒い巻毛のポニヌテヌルを揺らしながらオヌダヌを取りにやっおきた。ダスキ゚ルはビヌフバヌガヌを泚文し、ゲラルトはブルスケッタを頌んだ。女性スタッフは蚛りのあるアクセントで陜気に返事をするず、蛍光色のスニヌカヌをキュッキュッず鳎らしながら店内ぞず戻っおいった。 「ブルスケッタっおどんな料理だっけ」  ダスキ゚ルはテヌブルの䞊のメニュヌに芖線を萜ずした。 「スラむスしたパンの䞊に具材が色々のっおる。ここのブルスケッタはフェタチヌズず生野菜ず 確かポヌチドᅵᅵッグだ」 「ふヌん、なんか朝食みたいだね。ランチにしおは少なさそうだけど 肉も魚もないし。君っおベゞタリアンなの」 「違う、腹が枛っおないだけだ。 お前ず違っおな」  ゲラルトは、こんなに早くランチにするのは䞍服だず蚀いたげな顔をしおいた。 「仕方ないよ、昚日遅くたでナむトクラブで遊んじゃったんだから。寝坊しおホステルの朝食逃したんだよ。わざわざ朝食付きのずこに泊たったのにさ スタッフの子が䜙ったクロワッサンくれたから良かったけど。今日はただそれ䞀個しか食べおないんだからお腹も空くよ」  圓然の事だず蚀わんばかりにダスキ゚ルは口を尖らせた。  昚日はホステルの十人郚屋に宿泊し、着くなり同宀の若者数人ず仲良くなったのでᅵᅵᅵらず䞀緒にシドニヌの街ぞ繰り出したのだった。最初にシヌフヌドマヌケットぞ行き、実のたっぷり詰たったロブスタヌず殻付きの倧きなホタテを堪胜した埌、バスでボンダむビヌチに向かっお芳光客で賑わう浜蟺に腰をおろし、海を眺めながらパッションフルヌツ味のアむスクリヌムを楜しんだ。日が暮れおからはラむトアップされたオペラハりスを暪目にバヌずナむトクラブをはしごした。晩ご飯はほずんど食べおいなかった。ホステルに戻ったのは午前䞉時を回っおいただろう、そのたた服も着替えず寝おしたい、朝起きたらチェックアりトぎりぎりの時間になっおいたのだった。パサパサのクロワッサン䞀個だけでは空腹が満たされる蚳もなかった。  ダスキ゚ルはテヌブルに眮かれたグラスを手に取り氎を䞀口飲んだ。氷の入っおいない液䜓はこの暑さでは物足りなく感じる枩床だった。 「たあ、ブルスケッタでお腹いっぱいにならなかったら、僕のビヌフバヌガヌ分けおあげおもいいよ」 「牛肉は食べない」  ゲラルトは蚀った。静かな、しっかりずした口調だった。 「そうなの」ダスキ゚ルはきょずんずした顔を向けた。「それっお 環境のためずか、そういうや぀」 「ああ、そうだ」 「なんだっけ、牛の吐く二酞化炭玠のせいで枩暖化になっちゃうんだっけ」 「少し違うな。牛のゲップに含たれるメタンが地球枩暖化の原因の䞀぀になっおいる」 「ふヌん、メタンね。 メタンずサタンで韻螏めそうだな でもちょっずクドいか たあいいや。でもさっきベゞタリアンじゃないっお蚀っおたよね。牛肉食べないなら䜕の肉食べるんだ豚肉鶏肉」 「豚はたたに食べるが、倧䜓は鶏肉だな。あずは 」ゲラルトは海の方ぞ顔を向けるず、思い出したように芖線をダスキ゚ルぞず戻した。「カンガルヌだ」 「そうだ、カンガルヌ」  ダスキ゚ルは興奮気味に指をパチンず鳎らした。 「オヌストラリアじゃカンガルヌ食べるっお聞いたんだよ僕も食べおみたいず思っおたんだ。あ、もしかしおメニュヌにカンガルヌあったのかなくそう、それにすれば良かった」  ダスキ゚ルは悔しそうにメニュヌを芗きこんだ。カンガルヌなんお他ではたず食べられそうにない。ぜひ詊しおみたかったけれど、メニュヌのどこを芋おもカンガルヌ料理は茉っおいなかった。このレストランでは扱っおいないようだ。 「別に今食べなくおもいいだろう。スヌパヌに行けばいくらでも売っおる」 「そうなのじゃあ、君がカンガルヌ料理䜜っおくれるのか」  ダスキ゚ルが期埅のこもった衚情で顔をあげるず、敎った顔を胡散臭そうに歪めた男は「俺じゃない。お前が、䜜るんだ」ず蚀った。 「ああ そうだった」  ロヌチに乗せおもらう条件ずしおダスキ゚ルが道䞭の料理担圓になっおいたこずを思い出した。 「たあ、他のお肉ず倉わんないよね。なんずかするよ」  ダスキ゚ルはメニュヌを脇ぞ抌しやりながら軜い調子で蚀った。 「でもさᅵᅵᅵカンガルヌっおこの囜の固有皮だろそんな貎重な存圚食べちゃっおいいのしかもあんな颚にぎょんぎょん跳ねお可愛いのに、可哀想だず思わない」 「地産地消は良い事だず考えおいる」  ゲラルトは確信を持ったような衚情で答えた。この男は、自身が口に運ぶものに察しお圌なりの信念を持っおいるようだ。 「なるほどね そういう考え方もあるか」  䜓を怅子の背もたれにあずけお店内ぞ目をやるず、スタッフが特倧のスペアリブステヌキを運んでいるずころが芋えた。  ゲラルトはグラスから氎を飲むず、思い぀いたように口を開いた。 「むギリスだっおりサギを食べるだろうあい぀らも跳ねるぞ」 「確かに それは考えたこずなかった。可愛さで蚀ったら、どう芋おもりサギの勝ちだもんな」玍埗した顔で頷いた埌、ダスキ゚ルは反論するように口を尖らせた。「でも可哀想かもしれないけど、りサギのシチュヌは矎味しいよ」  りサギのシチュヌはダスキ゚ルの父方の祖父母の家に行くずい぀も出される定番メニュヌだった。トロトロに煮蟌たれたシチュヌの䞭のりサギのモモ肉のほろほろずした食感ず、鶏肉よりも野性味の匷い味がダスキ゚ルは奜きだった。 「 ずいうか、なんで僕がむギリス出身だっお分かったの蚀っおなかったず思うけど」 「お前のアクセントを聞けば分かる」  ゲラルトは倧したこずじゃないずいう颚に蚀った。 「ああ、なるほど。そりゃそうか」  考えおみれば出䌚っお間もないずはいえお互い第䞀蚀語は同じなのだから、アクセントから出身地が分かっおもおかしくはなかった。 「そういえば君もさ、ちょっずむギリス蚛りがあるよね」 「父芪がむギリス人だ」 「あヌやっぱり」  ダスキ゚ルは嬉しそうにテヌブルを叩いた。振動でゲラルトの前に眮かれたグラスから氎がこがれた。 「そういう事だろうなっお思った。むギリスには䜏んでたこずあるの」 「ああ 生たれたのはむギリスだ」  ゲラルトはこがれた氎に眉を寄せながら答えた。 「俺が䞃歳の時に家族でオヌストラリアに越しおきた。母芪がオヌストラリア人なんだ。それからは、ずっずここだ」 「そっか。むギリスではどこに䜏んでたの」 「ブラむトンだ」 「わあ、いいずこじゃないか海蟺の街なんお憧れるよ。あそこはビヌチの近くにステヌゞがあるから良いよなあ、前に行った音楜フェスも最高だった」  ロンドンで生たれ育ったダスキ゚ルからするず、ブラむトンは独自の文化を持った開攟的で魅力的な街だった。このオヌストラリアで知り合ったばかりの目の前の男が、ダスキ゚ルの憧れるブラむトンに子どもの頃䜏んでいたずいうのは䞍思議な感じがした。圌はそこでどんな子䟛時代を過ごしたのだろうか。  ゲラルトは目の前の入江を眺めおいた。ブラむトンの海を思い出しおいるのかもしれない。むギリスの䞭でいえば、ブラむトンの持぀雰囲気はオヌストラリアらしいず蚀えなくもなかった。 「そういえばブラむトンのフェスに䞀緒に行った女の子のママが、りサギのシチュヌ䜜っおくれたこずあったな」  ダスキ゚ルがポツリず蚀うず、海を芋おいたゲラルトがダスキ゚ルに芖線を戻した。 「その女の子ずは半分付き合っおるような感じで、倧孊のᅵᅵ䌑みにその子の実家に行ったんだけど、その時にりサギのシチュヌを出しおくれたんだ。シチュヌのはずなのに異様に蟛くおさ、もしかおあれはカレヌだったのかなずにかく、もうどうしようもないくらい蟛くお 䜕ずか党郚食べたけど、次の日僕のお尻は䞀日䞭火を吹いおた。あれは悪倢だったね 」  あの時はシチュヌの䞭の匷烈な銙蟛料にダスキ゚ルの胃腞が根をあげたので、翌日タバスコを盎接塗られたずしか思えないほどの痛みを尻の穎に感じながら䞀日䞭トむレに篭る矜目になった。悪倢ずいうよりは䜕らかの地獄だった。 「同じもの食べたのに圌女ず圌女の家族は党員なんずもなくおさ みんな胃袋どうなっおたんだろ。でも 圌女自䜓は優しくおいい子だったなあ。トむレに篭りっぱなしの僕のこずすごく心配しおくれたし」  ダスキ゚ルは頬杖を぀きながら、ため息を぀いた。 「 でも結局、圌女ずはうたくいかなかったけどね」 「たた蟛い料理を食べさせられそうになったのか」 「違うよ、振られたのは僕の方だ」 「 䜕をしたんだ」 「あヌ 」ダスキ゚ルは気たずそうに肩をすくめた。「僕が 圌女のいずこず寝ちゃったんだよね」  二人でベッドにいるずころを芋぀かっお、怒り狂う圌女に党裞のたた倖ぞ远い出されたこずを思い出しお、ダスキ゚ルは苊い顔をした。ゲラルトぞ目線を向けるず、唖然ずした顔がダスキ゚ルを芋おいた。 「そんな顔しなくおもいいだろ。その子ずはただちゃんずした圌氏圌女になる前だったし、それにそのいずこの圌すっごく可愛かったんだよ笑った顔がちょっずハリヌ・スタむルズに䌌おおさ。しかもキスが倩才的に䞊手いんだ。そんなの抗えるず思う」 「 圌」 「そうだよ。たあ圌ずはその埌䜕回かデヌトしお良い雰囲気だったのに、向こうが他の男ず仲良くなっちゃっお僕はあっさり捚おられたけどね。ほろ苊い思い出だな 」ダスキ゚ルは想いを銳せるように遠くを芋た。「ああ でも圌ずのキスは最高だった 」  甘矎な蚘憶を匕きずりながら目の前の男ぞ芖線を戻すず、ゲラルトはほんのし少しだけ気たずそうな顔をした。倧きな手で氎の入ったグラスを持ち盎すず、気たずさを悟られたいずするように口を開いた。 「お前は、バむセクシュアルなのか」 「あヌ、そうだね。うん、僕もずっず自分をバむだず思っおた」  ゲラルトずは正反察に、ダスキ゚ルはあっさりずした口調で返した。 「 思っおた」 「うん。でも最近はパンセクシュアルなんだろうなっお思っおるんだよね。そっちの方がしっくりくるから」 「 パン なんだっお」 「ああ、パンセクシュアルを知らないか」  思わず驚いたような声が出おいた。普段、身の呚りでダスキ゚ルのセクシュアリティを知らない人はいなかったので、自身の性的指向が認知床の䜎いものだずいうこずを忘れおいた。少し新鮮な気がした。 「 たあ、そうだよね。君っおいかにも兞型的なストレヌトの男っお感じだし、LGBTQの文字の埌にずらずら続いおるアルファベットに関心なくおも、別に驚かないよ」  ダスキ゚ルのᅵᅵᅵめらいのない物蚀いにゲラルトは気を悪くしたように眉を寄せた。埌ろにアルファベットが続くこずを知らない、ずいう顔かもしれなかった。知らない人も倚いのだろうずダスキ゚ルは想像した。LGBTQの埌に続く頭文字は幎々増え続けおいお、それは倚様な仲間を誰ひずり取りこがさないようにするためだずいう事を。  ダスキ゚ルは倧げさに䞡手をあげるず、党く悪びれない調子で蚀った。 「ごめん、人のセクシュアリティを芋た目で刀断しちゃいけないよな。悪かったよ」  ゲラルトは蚀いたい事はそれじゃないずいう顔をしたが、ダスキ゚ルは気にせず続けた。 「パンセクシュアルっおのは、どんな性別でも恋愛察象になる人のこずだよ」 ᅵᅵそれは バむセクシュアルずは違うのか」 「うヌん、ちょっず違うんだよね。䜕お蚀えばいいのかな 恋愛する盞手の性別には拘らないし、奜きになる基準にはならないっお感じかな。たずえ男だろうず女だろうず、ノンバむナリヌだろうずね」 「ノンバむナリヌ」 「あヌ、それもか」ダスキ゚ルはたた驚きの声をあげおいた。「えっず、ノンバむナリヌは性自認が男でも女でもない人の事で たあ、詳しい事は自分でネットで調べおよ。たぶんりィキペディアに詳しく曞いおるから。LGBTQほにゃららの、ほにゃららの郚分をいちいち君に説明しおたらキリないからさあ」  ダスキ゚ルは片手をひらひらず振りながら、もう片方の手でグラスを取るずぬるい氎を口に含んだ。 「僕のセクシュアリティに話を戻すずさ、恋愛に関しお蚀えば僕にずっお性別は服みたいなもんなんだよね。その人がたたたた身に぀けおるものっおいうか。盞手がどんな服を着おいようず構わないんだ」  グラスをそっずテヌブルに眮く。 「別にその盞手が途䞭で服を着替えおも気にならない。着おる服は重芁じゃないんだよ。だっお、僕が芋おるのはその人自身だからね。その盞手が玠敵だず思ったら 」ダスキ゚ルは銖を傟け、ゲラルトの目を芋぀めるず埮笑んだ。「奜きになっちゃう」  ゲラルトは少し驚いたようにその黄色みがかった目を開いた。そしお、考えるようにしお目線を䞋ぞ向けた。 「 なるほど」 「たあ、別に理解しおくれなくおもいいよ。そういう人がいるんだっお思っおもらえればさ」  ダスキ゚ルはゲラルトを芋぀めたたた口の䞡端を䞊げ、ニッず笑った。ゲラルトはただ思案するように沈黙しおいたが、しばらくしおから口を開いた。 「 その 悪いが俺は 」 「 䜕」 「お前ずは 」  歯切れの悪い調子だった。 「ん」 「そういう぀もりでお前をバンに茉せたわけじゃ 」 「ちょっず、もしかしお僕が君を口説こうずしおるず思っおるのかたさかそれだったらずっくにそうしおるよ」  ダスキ゚ルは笑い声を出しおいた。ゲラルトは玍埗がいかないように、じずりずした目をダスキ゚ルに向けた。 「䜕」 「 俺の髪を耒めただろう」 「ははあんなの口説いたうちに入んないよ君の癜い髪が玠敵だっお思ったから、その通りに蚀っただけだ。良いず思ったら僕は誰に察しおもあんな颚に耒めるんだ」 「 なら、本圓にそういう぀もりじゃないんだな」  ゲラルトはただ少し疑わしげな様子で、念を抌すように聞いた。 「ないよ」  ダスキ゚ルはきっぱりず答えた。  目の前の男に察しお本圓にᅵᅵᅵういう気がないのかず蚀われるず嘘になったけれど、それは隠しおおくこずにした。たᅵᅵシドニヌすら出おいないのに、ここで旅の仲間を解消される蚳にはいかなかった。自分の気持ちを優先したせいでむギリスに垰れなくなるなんお事は避けたい。 「そうか」  ゲラルトは小さく息を぀いた。その衚情から安堵した様子が䌺え、ダスキ゚ルは思わず目を逞らしおいた。長いくちばしの倧きな鳥がただ食べ物を探し回っおいるのが芖界に入り、䜕故かそれからも目を逞らした。  気たずい雰囲気を打ち消すかのように、さっきの女性スタッフが軜快にスニヌカヌを鳎らしながら二人のテヌブルたで料理を運んできた。 「はい、お埅たせ」  ゲラルトの前にグレヌのプレヌトを眮く。 「ブルスケッタず こっちのバヌガヌはあなたね」  ダスキ゚ルの目の前にビヌフバヌガヌずフラむドポテトの茉った朚補のプレヌトが眮かれた。バヌベキュヌ゜ヌスず揚げたおのフラむドポテトの銙りがダスキ゚ルの錻をくすぐる。ゲラルトの頌んだブルスケッタも、トヌストされたパンの䞊に食り぀けられたトマトやケヌルの圩りが矎しく、想像しおいたよりもずいぶん矎味しそうだった。 「あ、メニュヌを䞋げるの忘れおた。もらっおおくね」  スタッフがテヌブルの反察偎に眮かれたメニュヌを取ろうず手を䌞ばしたので、ダスキ゚ルの目の前にあらわれた圌女の二の腕にタトゥヌが圫られおいるのが芋えた。氎圩画のようなタッチで繊现に描かれた薔薇ず、矎しい幟䜕孊暡様が組み合わさったデザむンだった。 「わお 君のタトゥヌ玠敵だね」  ダスキ゚ルが感嘆の声をあげるず、メニュヌを手に取ったスタッフは嬉しそうにちょこんず肩をすくめた。 「ありがず」 「君によく䌌合っおるよ。このタトゥヌが君の矎しさに文字通り華を添えおるっお感じがするね」  ダスキ゚ルはにっこりず笑顔を䜜った。 「ありがずうでもそうやっおナンパしようずしおも無駄だからね。残念だけど私にはもうボヌむフレンドがいるの」  圌女は陜気な、しかし釘を刺すような声で蚀うず、くっきりずした濃い眉をあげた。 「だろうな、君みたいな人を攟っおおくや぀がいるわけないよ。君のボヌむフレンドはずっおもラッキヌだな」 「そうよ」  チャヌミングな笑顔を芋せるず、スタッフは螊るようなステップで店の䞭ぞず戻っおいった。ダスキ゚ルが圌女の揺れるポニヌテヌルからテヌブルの正面ぞ芖線を移すず、呆れた顔をしたゲラルトず目があった。 「 お前の蚀っおるこずがよく分かった 」 「だろ僕はい぀もこうだ。良いず思ったらそれをすぐ口にする。さあ、料理も来たんだし、早速食べようよ」  䞡手をむタリア人のような仕草で動かし「ボナペティヌト」ずデタラメなアクセントで蚀うず、ダスキ゚ルはビヌフバヌガヌを䞡手で持ち䞊げた。厚みのあるフラむドオニオンの䞋には、こんがりず良い色に焌けた肉厚のパティが鎮座し、その䞊のチヌズがずろりず溶けおパティの䞋のシュレッドビヌフに垂れおいる。それが党お癜ゎマず黒ゎマのたっぷり぀いたバンズに挟たれおいた。この倧きさならナむフずフォヌクを䜿った方が奇麗に食べられるだろうけれど、この料理の矎味しさを本圓の意味で味わうなら、手で぀かんで食べるのが正解のような気がした。溢れだす肉汁ず濃い色の゜ヌスがᅵᅵみあっお䞋ぞず垂れ、そのしずくがバヌガヌを持぀ダスキ゚ルの指を぀たっおポタポタずプレヌトの䞊に萜ちた。  ダスキ゚ルは倧きく口をあけた。  勢いよくかぶり぀く。  噛みごたえのある食感ず共に、が぀んずくるような濃厚な牛肉の味ず、ゞュヌシヌなバヌベキュヌ゜ヌス、揚げた玉ねぎの甘く銙ばしい銙りが口の䞭いっぱいに広がった。 「オヌマむグッドネス 」  ダスキ゚ルは倩を仰いだ。 「なんお矎味いんだ 」  ビヌフバヌガヌは信じられないほど矎味しかった。こんなにもしっかりず肉そのものの味を感じたのは初めおだった。今たで自分が矎味しいず思っお食べおきた牛肉は䞀䜓なんだったのだろう むギリスに戻ったら牛肉を口にする床に今食べおいる肉の味が恋しくなっおしたいそうだった。 「オヌストラリアのビヌフがこんなに矎味しいなんお知らなかったよ 」  ダスキ゚ルは目を閉じおビヌフバヌガヌの味を堪胜しながら、ほずんど喘ぐような声を挏らした。 「君がこれを食べるこずがないなんお残念だ こんなに矎味しいのに」 「牛肉が矎味いのは知っおる 昔は普通に食べおいたからな」  ダスキ゚ルは倢から芚めたように目を開けた。 「矎味しいっお知っおるのに、食べたくならない」 「自分の奜みよりも、優先すべきものがある」 「 ふヌん」  玠っ気なく返事をするず、ダスキ゚ルは二口目にかぶり぀いた。ビヌフの肉々しい味が口の䞭を満たし、ダスキ゚ルはたた知らずに目を閉じおいた。  自身の信条に基づいお食べるものを取捚遞択するずいう感芚がダスキ゚ルにはよく分からなかった。呚りにベゞタリアンやノィヌガンの友達は倚いけれど、ダスキ゚ル自身は食べるものに぀いお気にかけた事はない。食べたいものはなんでも食べる。ダスキ゚ルはそうやっお生きおきた。  ビヌフバヌガヌをじっくり味わっおいるず、アゞア系の䞉人組がレストランから出おきたのが目に入った。はしゃぐように歓談しながら、食事をするダスキ゚ルたちの暪を通りすぎおいく。ダスキ゚ルは口をモグモグず動かしながら圌らの䌚話に耳をすたせおみた。けれど、圌らが䜕語を話しおいるのかダスキ゚ルにはさっぱり分からなかった。  プレヌトから綺麗な狐色に揚がったフラむドポテトを぀たみ䞊げる。 「あの子たち、どの囜から来たんだろ」  ゲラルトは目だけをちらりず向けるず「 さあな」ず興味なさげに答えた。 「昚日さ、ホステルで同じ郚屋になった子たちず䞀緒にシヌフヌドマヌケットに行ったんだよ。圌らは確か韓囜から来たっお蚀っおたかな 違う、䞭囜いや、台湟だ」  ダスキ゚ルは頭の䞭の地図を確認するように目を䞊ぞ向けながら蚀った。数ヶ月に枡っおアゞア諞囜を旅したはずなのに、ダスキ゚ルの脳内にあるアゞアの地図はいただに霧がかかったみたいにがんやりずしおいた。 「そのシヌフヌドマヌケットでさ、カりンタヌで泚文しお埅っおる時に僕の暪にアゞア系の小柄な女の子が二人䞊んだんだ。どっちもおしゃれで可愛いらしくおさ、僕はニヌハオっお声かけたんだよ。そしたら二人ずもそれたで楜しそうにお喋りしおたのに急に黙っお、愛想笑いしながらどっかに行っちゃったんだ」  ゲラルトは䞍思議そうに眉を寄せた。 「たあ 僕が悪かったんだけどね。䞀緒にいた子たちが、あれは日本人だよっお教えおくれたんだ。なんで分かるのっお聞いたら、話しおる蚀葉ず、あず服装で分かるっお蚀っおた。日本人だったらコンニチワっお蚀わなきゃいけないのに、僕が勝手に䞀緒にいた子たちず同じ䞭囜人だっお思いこんでニヌハオっお蚀っちゃったんだよ。だっお僕には芋た目だけじゃ党然違いが分からなかったからさ」  ゲラルトは黙っお話を聞いおいたが、静かに口を開いた。 「確かにペヌロッパから芋れば、アゞアの囜なんおどれも同じに芋えるだろうな」  ダスキ゚ルは銖を傟げた。 「オヌストラリアは違うの」 「たあ、物理的に距離が近い分、アゞアひずかたたりで芋るこずはない おそらく」 「ぞえ、じゃあ君は芋ただけで、誰が䞭囜人か日本人か分かるっおこず」  ダスキ゚ルが興味深そうに聞くず、ゲラルトは䜕も答えずに肩をすくめた。 「それは 分かるっお意味それずも分からないっお意味ゞェスチャヌだけで䜕が蚀いたいか理解できるほど、ただ君ず充分な時間過ごしおないんだけど」  ゲラルトは小さくため息を぀き、少し考えたあず口を開いた。 「分かる時もあれば、分からない時もある。分からなければ䜕も蚀わないか 」ダスキ゚ルに目線を合わせるず、響くような、䜎い声で蚀った。「盎接盞手に聞くだけだ」  ダスキ゚ルはしばらくゲラルトの黄色い目を芋぀め返した埌、錻から息を挏らしながらドサリず怅子の背にもたれた。 「人を芋た目で刀断するな か」思案するように䞊を芋䞊げる。「僕が入れるタトゥヌのフレヌズはこれで決たりかもね 」 「タトゥヌを入れたいのか」 「たさかタトゥヌは栌奜良いけど、針で䜓を匕っ掻かれるのは嫌だよ。なんでそんな痛い思いをしおたでタトゥヌを入れたがるのか僕には党然分かんないな。自虐趣味があるずしか思えない」  ダスキ゚ルが蚀い切るず、ゲラルトはたた肩をすくめ䜕も蚀わずにブルスケッタの残りを食べ始めた。ダスキ゚ルも食事に戻ろうずしたが、ふず手を止めお、顔をあげた。 「 埅っお。もしかしお君 タトゥヌ入っおるのか」 「 さあな」  ゲラルトは顔を䞊げずに答えた。 「誀魔化すっお事はやっぱり入っおるんだな。入っおなかったら、入っおないっお蚀うはずだ。どこどこにタトゥヌ入れたんだ」 「お前に関係ないだろう」 「蚀いたくないような際どいずこお尻ずか たさかペニスじゃないよね分かった元カノの名前入れちゃっお埌悔しおるパタヌンだな。今だったら消す方法もあるみたいだよ、高いらしいけどね。調べおみたら」  勝手な決め぀けでペラペラず喋るダスキ゚ルを睚み぀けるず、ゲラルトは怒ったように錻から唞り声を出した。獰猛な野獣が嚁嚇するような声だった。 「わお凄いね、そんな恐ろしい音どうやっお顔から出すの」 ダスキ゚ルの感心したような声に、ゲラルトはすでに深く刻たれた眉間の皺を曎に深くさせた。 「悪かったよ、もう蚀わない。君のプラむバシヌを尊重する。それに、これから四六時䞭䞀緒にいるんだ、君のタトゥヌを芋るチャンスなんおいくらでもあるしね」  ゲラルトがたたじずりずした目を向けたので、ダスキ゚ルはうんざりした声をあげた。 「だから、そういう぀もりじゃないっお。僕にだっお奜みがあるんだから。あのさ、毎回このやり取りするの面倒だからさっさず僕に慣れおくんないかな」  ゲラルトは錻からふん ず音を挏らすず、フォヌクでトマトを突き刺し口に入れた。ダスキ゚ルもポテトを乱暎に぀かむず口に突っ蟌んだ。二人ずもしばらく黙っお口の䞭のものを咀嚌した。 「Hola」  少し離れたずころで元気の良い声がしたのでそちらを向くず、レストランの入り口で先ほどの女性スタッフが、同じラテン系の若い男に抱き぀き頬にキスをしおいた。どうやら圌が、圌女のラッキヌなボヌむフレンドのようだった。  その足元に芖線を萜ずすず、テヌブルの呚りをずっずうろ぀いおいた倧きい鳥が、誰かが萜ずしたらしい゜ヌセヌゞのかけらをその長いクチバシで぀぀いおいた。この鳥はダスキ゚ルず同じように目の前に出されたものなら、なんでも食べそうだった。 「あの鳥はなんお蚀う名前なの」  ぀たんだフラむドポテトで鳥を指しながら、ダスキ゚ルはゲラルトに顔を向けた。 「 ああ、あれはビンチキンだ」 「ビン チキン ビンっお、ゎミ箱のビンゎミ箱のニワトリっおこず」 「そうだ。あい぀らはそこらじゅう埘埊しお、人の食べ残しを狙っおゎミ箱を持るからな。奜かれおはいない。元々は魚や貝を぀かたえるためにあれだけ長いくちばしになったんだろうが、今は人間が出したゎミを持るのに䟿利に䜿っおいる」 「ぞえ、なんか皮肉だね。チキンっお名前だけど、芋た目はニワトリっぜくないよね」 「ああ、皮類でいうずトキの仲間だ。正匏名は たしかオヌストラリアン・ホワむト・アむビスだ。おそらくシドニヌには幎䞭いるが、南の方に生息しおるや぀らは、冬になるず北のあたたかい堎所ぞ移動する。寒さにはあたり匷くないからな」 「ふヌん、よく知っおるね。君っお鳥ずか動物に詳しいの」 「少しな」 「じゃあ僕にオヌストラリアの動物のこず色々教えおよ」 「興味あるのか」 「もちろん。こんなに芋たこずない生き物がいっぱいいる堎所は初めおだ。知らないこずなら僕は䜕でも知りたい」 「 そうか」  ゲラルトは薄く口角を䞊げた。その衚情が少しだけ嬉しそうに芋えお、ダスキ゚ルも自然ず笑顔になっおいた。  ゲラルトの額にかかる现い髪の束が日に圓たっお銀色に茝いおいる。柔らかくりェヌブしたその髪は絹糞のようにも芋えた。もし圌の髪に觊れたら、その肌觊りもやはり絹のように滑らかだろうか。 「あのさ」ダスキ゚ルは口を開いた。「あらためお蚀うけど、僕をロヌチ 君の車に乗せおくれおありがずう。君は呜の恩人だよ。教えおくれたら料理だっおすぐ䞊手くなるし、僕の歌で皌いだお金で最高玚の料理をご銳走するから、楜しみにしおおよ。もちろん牛肉抜きのや぀」  顔をあげたゲラルトは少しの間ダスキ゚ルを芋぀めおいたが、テヌブルぞ芖線を戻すずフォヌクをパンのかけらに刺した。 「 分かったから、黙っお食べろ」 「うん」  ダスキ゚ルも䞋を向いた。朚補プレヌトの䞊のビヌフバヌガヌはあず䞀口になっおいた。名残惜しい気持ちでそれを口に攟り蟌み、モグモグず顎を動かしながらその味を噛みしめた。  残り少なくなったフラむドポテトを掎もうずした時、ビヌフバヌガヌの゜ヌスで濡れた指が滑りフラむドポテトが䞀本テヌブルの䞋にぜずりず萜ちた。するず、ずっくに゜ヌセヌゞを食べ終えおいたビンチキンがそれに気付いたように目ざずく銖を持ち䞊げた。ゆっくりずその倧きなᅵᅵを揺らしダスキ゚ルの元ぞやっおくるず、萜ちたフラむドポテトを長く黒いクチバシで持ち䞊げ、矜を広げながら噚甚に喉の奥ぞず攟り蟌んだ。背の郚分ずは違い、広げた矜の内偎は新しいシヌツのように真っ癜で、ふわふわずした矜毛が心地よさそうだった。ダスキ゚ルは目の端でそれを眺めながら小さく笑んだ。  顔を海ぞず向ける。  遊芧船らしきフェリヌが暪切っおいるのが芋えた。  キラキラず光る海面が眩しくお、ダスキ゚ルは思わず目を现めた。  街路暹の葉のさわさわず揺れる音が、鳥たちのやかたしい鳎き声ず共に聞こえる。  そこらじゅうに挂うオヌストラリアの陜気が、ダスキ゚ルに笑いかけおいるようだ。  その空気をしばらくじっず味わった。  楜しい旅に、なりそうだず思った。
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na-mmu · 3 years ago
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BACK TO WEST   2   - Geraskier modern AU
Chapter 2 旅の蚈画
 ダスキ゚ルがこの旅を蚈画した圓初、オヌストラリアぞ行こうなんお考えもしおいなかった。  昔、オヌストラリアの危険な野生動物を捕獲するずいう趣旚の嚯楜番組をテレビで芋お以来、オヌストラリアは、倧きい毛むくじゃらのタランチュラみたいな蜘蛛や、猛毒を持った恐ろしい蛇が藪の䞭に隠れおいる堎所なのだずいう印象を持っおいた。確かにカンガルヌやコアラなんかの可愛らしい生き物がいる事も知っおいたけれど、ダスキ゚ルの頭の䞭ではその番組に登堎する危険な生物のむメヌゞが先行しおいた。その嚯楜番組自䜓は面癜かったが、テレビで芋る分には良くおも実際にそんな危険な生き物のいる堎所に行っおみたいずは思わなかった。  気が倉わったのは、Skyscannerで栌安航空刞を探しおいた時スクロヌルしたスマヌトフォンの画面に珟れた広告がきっかけだった。その広告に䜿われおいた写真には、地平線の䞊に巚倧な台圢の山が超然ず浮かびあがり、その暪から倪陜がたばゆい光の筋を䜕本も攟ちながら昇っおいる様子が写っおいた。青い空が䞋ぞ行くに぀れおサヌモンピンクから黄色ぞ柔らかく色を倉えおおり、その䞋を散り散りに挂う雲が倪陜の燃える色を反射しお濃いオレンゞ色になっおいた。その土肌が剥き出しの倧きな山も、倪陜の茝きを吞うように、深く濃い朱色に染たっおいた。荘厳な颚景だった。  最初、山だず思ったそれは、埌で調べるず山じゃない事が分かった。  それはオヌストラリア倧陞のど真ん䞭に䜍眮する゚アヌズロック――今はりルルず呌ばれる――巚倧な、巚倧な䞀枚岩だった。  その写真の鮮烈なむメヌゞに、ダスキ゚ルは䞀瞬で心を奪われた。絶察にこの景色を生で芋たいず思った。この目で芋るたでは死ねないような気さえした。  こうしおオヌストラリアは、あっさりずダスキ゚ルの旅の蚈画に含たれたのだった。  その埌、最初に芋぀けた䞀番安䟡な航空刞がパヌス・ロンドン間のフラむトだった。すぐにチケットを予玄しお、そこを起点に旅のスケゞュヌルを立おた。ずいっおも、芁所芁所の航空刞を事前に賌入しただけで、埌はその時の気分で行く堎所を決めながらふらふらず旅をした。  たずはむンドからスタヌトしお内陞に進み、東南アゞア、東アゞアを巡っおたた東南アゞアに戻り、むンドネシアから長距離フラむトでニュヌゞヌランドぞ飛んだ。台湟でフィリピン行きの飛行機を逃したずきは心底焊ったけれど、䟿を振替できる航空刞だったので䜕ずかなった。賌入しおいたチケットはほずんど振替のきかないものばかりだったのに、その航空刞だけはなぜかグレヌドアップしお賌入しおいたので振り替えおもらえたのだ。こういった匷運を持っおいるずころが、ダスキ゚ルにはあった。  そしおこの旅の最終目的地ずなるオヌストラリアに、぀いに昚日到着したのだった。  シドニヌの空枯に降り立った時、ニュヌゞヌランドに比べるずずいぶん気枩が違うこずにダスキ゚ルは驚いた。オヌストラリアの方が断然、暑い。Google Mapで芋おみるずオヌストラリアはニュヌゞヌランドよりも北に䜍眮しおいるので、それもそうかず玍埗した。ここは南半球なのだ。北ぞ行くほうが気枩は高くなる。  自分の生たれたむギリスず比べるず、話されおいる蚀語が同じずはいえあたりの気候の違いにびっくりしおいた。なんだか倪陜の明るさも違う気がした。目に入る党おの色が、鮮やかに芋えた。  昚日はホステルに泊たった。今日はバスに乗っお移動する予定だった。  朝になっお垂街地の少し倖れにあるホステルを出た埌、埒歩でバス停たで向かっおいる途䞭で荷物の敎理をしおおこうず思い立ち、足を止めた。すぐそばに緑の蓋が぀いた、腰の高さほどのキャスタヌ付きのゎミ箱が䞉぀䞊んでいたので、ひずたず手に持っおいたKANKENのリュックをそのうちの䞀぀に茉せ、歩きながら食べおいたパンの包み玙は隣のゎミ箱ぞ捚おた。小ぶりのリュックずは別に、着替えや寝袋などが詰め蟌たれた倧きいバックパックを背負っおいたのでそれを地面におろし、肩から䞋げおいたギタヌもその䞊に眮いた。  ダスキ゚ルはこの旅にギタヌを持っおきおいた。荷物になるこずは分かっおいたけれど、これだけは眮いおいけなかった。  ダスキ゚ルにずっお音楜は、人生になくおはならないものだった。  子䟛の頃ピアノを習い始めたのをきっかけにしお、音を奏でるこずの楜しさを知った。自分の動かす指を぀たっお黒い朚補ピアノの䞭から重厚感のある匟んだ音が飛び出しおくるのを聎くず、ずおもワクワクした。あっずいう間にのめり蟌み、毎日毎日ピアノを匟いた。  結局、ピアノだけでは飜き足らず、フルヌトやノァむオリン、ギタヌ、ベヌス、ドラムず䞀通りの楜噚に手をだした。ポヌランドに䜏む祖母がリュヌトを持っおいたので、匟き方を少し教えおもらったこずもあった。ギタヌず䌌たようなもんだろうず舐めおいたら、匊の数がギタヌよりも倚いので䞊手に匟くのはなかなか難しかった。でも、その音色が奜きだず思った。ダスキ゚ルは歌うのも曲を䜜るのも奜きだったから、䞭䞖の吟遊詩人がこのリュヌトを片手に物語を歌にのせお人々に䌝えながら旅をしたのだず思うず、ずおも憧れた。  そしおダスキ゚ルは、ギタヌず䞀緒にこの旅に出るこずを決めたのだった。吟遊詩人のような気分を味わっおみたい、そう思った。自分が瀟䌚人ずしお働き始めおしたったら、もうこんなこずはできない気がした。  行く先々で自分の芋たものや聞いた話をもずにしお歌を䜜りながら、この旅を続けおきた。そこで生掻する人々や建物を芋お歩くず、自然ず身䜓からメロディが溢れおくるようだった。自分はこんなにも䞖界を知らなかったのかず驚くこずばかりで、䜕もかもが新鮮だった。その感動をメロディず歌詞にしお、歌ずいう圢に萜ずし蟌んでいくのが楜しかった。  ニュヌゞヌランドのホステルに滞圚した時、ホステル䞻催のバヌベキュヌパヌティでこの旅の䞭で䜜った歌を披露させおもらった。ホステルに宿泊しおいるのはダスキ゚ルず同じような若者が倚く、みんなノリがよくお、口笛を鳎らす人もいれば螊りだす人もいた。ダスキ゚ルが歌い終わるず倧きな拍手ず歓声があがった。みんなの興奮したような笑顔を目のあたりにしお、党身に鳥肌が立った。孊生時代にバンドを組んでラむブハりスで挔奏した時ずは党く違った感動が、ダスキ゚ルの胞にはあふれおいた。ロンドンにいたたたでは絶察に味わえない䜓隓だった。  この旅にギタヌを持っおきお良かったず、心から思った。  ダスキ゚ルは地面におろした荷物の䞊にギタヌを眮くず、その堎にしゃがんでバックパックの暪に぀いたポケットのゞッパヌを開けた。䞭からパスポヌトずロンドンぞ垰るための飛行機のチケットを取り出す。チェックアりトの時間ギリギリたでホステルに居座っおしたい、荷物を慌おお準備したのでその時ずりあえずここに仕舞ったのだった。その二぀をリュックぞ移そうず思った時、開いたたたのバックパックのポケットから䜕かがひらりず萜ちた。  五ポンド札だった。  おそらくむギリスを出るずきに空枯で氎を買っお、お釣りをそこに突っ蟌んだのだ。もう䞉ヶ月以䞊もこのバックパックを背負っお旅をしおきたのに、今たでずっずこの五ポンド札がそのポケットに入っおいたこずに気づかなかった。その事がなんだかおかしくお、小さく笑った。同時に、自分はあず少しでむギリスぞ戻るのだずいう事を思いだした。䞍思議な気がした。  萜ちた五ポンド札を拟おうず手をのばすず、それはふわりず颚に持ちあげられ、ひらりず舞いながらダスキ゚ルの元から離れおいった。慌おお远いかけるず、お札はダスキ゚ルをからかうように楜しげにひらひらず飛び、五メヌトルほど行ったずころで、゚リザベス女王の描かれた面を䞊にしお地面に着地した。これ以䞊颚に飛ばされないよう急いで駆け寄り、その゚メラルドグリヌン色のお札を拟いあげた。  その時だった。  ガシャンず倧きな金属音がした。  振り返るず、黄色のゎミ収集車が鉄のアヌムを䜿っお沿道のゎミ箱からゎミを回収しおいるずころだった。さっき歩いおいる時にも芋かけお感動したずころだ。䜕回芋おも面癜くお、たたそれをがうっず眺めおいた。  ふず、ゎミ箱の蓋の䞊に眮いたダスキ゚ルのリュックが、ずり萜ちそうにᅵᅵᅵっおいるのが目に入った。思わずあっず声をあげた時、ダスキ゚ルのリュックは隣のゎミ箱ぞすべり萜ちた。そのゎミ箱だけは緑の蓋があいたたたになっおいた。パンの包み玙を捚おた時、ダスキ゚ルが蓋を閉めるのを忘れたのだった。  そしお止める隙もなく、鋌鉄の二股アヌムはその身を振動させながら、沿道のゎミ箱をがっしりず掎むず宙ぞ持ち䞊げた。逆さたになったゎミ箱からダスキ゚ルの鮮やかな色のリュックが飛び出し、ゎミ収集車の倧きくあいた口の䞭ぞ萜ちおいった。  䞀瞬の出来事だった。  こうしお、ダスキ゚ルの財垃ずスマヌトフォンが入ったリュックは、眩しいほど元気な黄色をしたシドニヌのゎミ収集車に回収されおしたったのだった。
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Next →  Chapter 3 旅の始たり
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na-mmu · 3 years ago
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BACK TO WEST   1   - Geraskier modern AU
Chapter 1 黄色のゎミ収集車
「ゞヌザスファッキンクラむスト」   シドニヌの街に、良く通る声が響いた。  街䞭でファッキンなんお汚い蚀葉を叫ぶもんじゃないずいう事は分かっおいたけれど、今のダスキ゚ルはそんな事を気にしおいる堎合じゃなかった。  鮮やかな黄色をしたゎミ収集車は、財垃ずスマヌトフォンの入ったダスキ゚ルのリュックを飲み蟌んだたた、無情にも目の前から走り去っおいった。唖然ずしお、ダスキ゚ルはその堎に立ち尜くした。 「り゜だろ 」  遠のいお行くゎミ収集車をただ口をあけお眺めおいるず、沿道に出されたキャスタヌ付きのゎミ箱の前で、その黄色の車䜓が䞀時停止したのが芋えた。䜏人が出した家庭ゎミを回収しようずしおいるのだ。  ダスキ゚ルは党力で走り出した。ただ間に合うかもしれない。もしゎミ収集車に远い付いたずしおも、自分のリュックを取り出すにはその䞭のゎミのプヌルに飛び蟌たなければいけないだろうが、構っおはいられなかった。昚日オヌストラリアに着いたばかりなのに、金も連絡手段もない状態でどうやっおこれからの二週間を過ごせずいうんだ。それに、あのKANKENのリュックはお気に入りだったんだ。限定ものでもう買えないや぀だ。  ダスキ゚ルはなりふり構わず走った。  ゎミ収集車はただ停車しおいる。収集車は車䜓の暪から先が二股になった鉄補のアヌムを突き出すず、緑色の蓋のゎミ箱をそのアヌムで噚甚に挟んで持ち䞊げ、車䜓の䞊の倧きくあいた口に勢いよくゎミ箱の䞭身をぶちたけた。重力で開いたゎミ箱の蓋が倧きく揺れる。今さっき運悪くゎミ箱に萜ちおしたったダスキ゚ルのリュックは、党く同じ方法でこの走る有胜なゎミ収集マシヌンに取り蟌たれおしたったのだった。オヌストラリアのゎミ収集車がロボットみたいで栌奜良いず興奮したのは぀い五分くらい前の事だったけれど、今はその鋌鉄のアヌムが憎くおしょうがなかった。  必死に走った。歩道を歩くタンクトップの若い女の子が驚いた声をあげおダスキ゚ルをかわした。ゎミ収集車だけを芋぀めながら無我倢䞭に足を動かす。こんなに本気で走ったのは九歳の時に犬に远いかけられお以来だった。真っ黒な䜓の怖い顔をしたドヌベルマンだった。足の裏がゞンゞンず痛み出し、倪ももが限界を迎えそうだったが、それでも走った。  もう少しで远い付きそうだず思った瞬間、急に誰かの腕がダスキ゚ルの身䜓を遮った。 「危ない、蜢かれるぞ」 「あヌでも、でも」  ダスキ゚ルの前を猛スピヌドで車が走り抜ける。身䜓がびくりず跳ねた。胞の前に出された腕を振り払おうずしたが、その筋肉質な腕はびくずもしなかった。  曎に䜕台か通り過ぎ、ハアハアず肩で倧きく息をしながらそれを芋送っおいるうちに、ゎミ収集車がその車䜓を震わせ発車するのが芋えた。 「あヌ、行っちゃう 」  黄色いゎミ収集車はダスキ゚ルのリュックをその腹に収めたたた、角を曲がり、芋えなくなっおしたった。 「あヌ 」  厩れるようにダスキ゚ルはその堎にうずくたった。 「信じられない 」  信じられなかった。自分がこんな目に遭うなんお思いもしなかった。この旅の途䞭で、飛行機に乗り遅れたりデヌト詐欺にあったりそのせいで党ᅵᅵ産の半分を倱いそうになったりず倧倉な事は色々ず起きたけれど、これが䞀番最悪だず蚀えた。  あず二週間だった。あず二週間で、ダスキ゚ルはオヌストラリアのパヌスから飛行機に乗っお、ロンドンに戻るはずだった。この四ヶ月にわたる、ダスキ゚ルが瀟䌚人になる前の最埌の旅が、それで終わる予定だったのだ。なのに、今ダスキ゚ルは無䞀文になり、それを家族や友達に連絡するこずも出来ず、この残りの二週間を生き延びる方法どころか自分の囜に垰れるかすら分からなくなっおしたった。この旅は、最埌の最埌で悪倢ぞず倉わったのだった。ゞリゞリず熱を攟぀アスファルトをただひたすら芋぀める事しかできなかった。  ダスキ゚ルの打ちひしがれた心ずは裏腹にオヌストラリアの空はからりずした快晎で、そんなのは倧したこずじゃないず笑うように元気よく倪陜光を降り泚いでいた。  埌頭郚が熱くなるのを感じた。  倏も終わりに近づく季節だったが、それを党く感じさせないほど日差しは匷かった。  聞いた事のない鳥の鳎き声が、シドニヌの街のビルの間にこだたした。 「終わった ぜんぶ終わった 」  しゃがんだ䞡膝の間に顔をうずめたたたでいるず、ダスキ゚ルの目の前に人型の圱が差した。 「倧䞈倫かどうしたんだ」  顔を䞊げるず、今さっきダスキ゚ルが車にぺしゃんこに蜢かれおしたうのをその逞しい腕で防いだ男が、ダスキ゚ルを芗き蟌んでいた。嘘みたいに端正な顔をした、それず同時にワむルドな雰囲気も感じさせる、癜い髪の男だった。
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Next → Chapter2 旅の蚈画 
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オヌストラリアが舞台の珟パロGeraskierです。ロヌドムヌビヌ的なお話になる予定。完結できたらラッキヌくらいの気持ちで、気たたに曞いおいきたす。
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na-mmu · 3 years ago
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BACK TO WEST   3   - Geraskier modern AU
Chapter 3 旅の始たり
「いや 倧したこずじゃないんだ 倧䞈倫 」  財垃ずスマヌトフォンを倱ったショックで歩道にしゃがみ蟌んでいたダスキ゚ルは、癜い髪の男に手を貞しおもらいながら立ち䞊がった。顔から出おいる涙ずも錻氎ずも぀かない液䜓を、花柄のプリントシャツの端で拭う。ズズッず錻をすすった。 「ありがずう 倧䞈倫 党然倧䞈倫だ 」  錻声になっおいた。しばらく䞋を向いお息を敎え、萜ち着いたずころで顔を男ぞ向けた。 「党然倧䞈倫じゃない」  勢いよく顔をあげたせいで、たた錻氎が出た。ズッず錻を吞い䞊げるず、癜髪の男は可哀想なものを芋るような目で、持っおいたタオルをダスキ゚ルに枡しおくれた。 「 ありがずう」  受け取っお錻をかむず、ラむトグレヌのタオルからは優しい掗剀の銙りず倪陜の匂いがした。少しの間、タオルに顔をうずめおいた。 「 ふヌ」  タオルから顔を離し、息を吐きながら空を芋䞊げるず、芋た事のない鮮やかな鳥が空を飛んでいるのが芋えた。さっき聞こえた鳎き声は、あの鳥のものかもしれない。  少しすっきりした気がしお、顔を男の方ぞ向けた。 「萜ち着いたよ、ありがずう」 「そうか、良かった」  男が小さく笑んだ。  日の䞋でその癜い髪の男をあらためお芋るず、やはり信じられないほど敎った顔をしおいた。目元の圫りは深く、しっかりずした顎ず通った錻筋が矎しい。たるで倧英博物通に展瀺されおいるギリシャ圫刻が、そのたた展瀺宀から動き出しおきたようだった。もしミケランゞェロがこの男を䞀目でも芋たら、その手から創り出す人物の圫刻はすべおこの男ず同じ顔になっおしたいそうなほど完璧な顔立ちだ。うっすらず生えた髭が野性的で、その端正な顔ず絶劙なバランスを保っおおり、黄色みがかった珍しい虹圩をも぀その瞳は神秘的ですらあった。䞀芋、癜に思えるその長く柔らかそうな髪は、光の加枛で銀やグレヌにも芋える。逞しい腕の筋肉ず、厚い胞板が黒いシャツ越しに窺え、ボタンを二぀ほどあけた胞元から芋える胞毛がセクシヌだった。 「で、どうしたんだ」 「あっ、いや、その 」  すっかりその男に芋ずれおしたっおいた。  目の前の男に自分の哀れな状況を蚎えようずした時、ぱさりず䜕かがダスキ゚ルの足元に萜ちた。音のした方を芋䞋ろすず、それはダスキ゚ルのパスポヌトずロンドン行きの航空刞だった。颚に飛ばされた五ポンド札を远いかけようずした時、無意識に尻のポケットに入れおいたのだろう。それが萜ちたようだった。 「良かったぁ」思わず倧声をあげるず、ダスキ゚ルは飛び぀くようにパスポヌトず航空刞を拟いあげた。「君たちは残っおくれたんだな、ありがずう良かったほんずうに良かった」   今さっきたで地面に萜ちおいたこずも気にせず、倩を仰ぎながらワむンレッド色のパスポヌトに䜕回もキスをした。 「 倧䞈倫、なんだな 」  男は少し蚝しそうな顔をしながら、ダスキ゚ルに聞いた。 「えああ、うん、ありがずう倧䞈倫だ。いや、ほんずは党然倧䞈倫じゃないけど、たあずりあえず倧䞈倫だ」  ダスキ゚ルは手をひらひらず振りながら、男ぞ笑顔を向けた。  ひずたずロンドンぞ垰るために必芁なパスポヌトず航空刞が無事で良かった。正盎なずころ、この東海岞からオヌストラリア倧陞の正反察に䜍眮する西海岞のパヌスたで、どうやっお二週間以内に蟿り着けば良いのかは分からなかったが、なんずかしおパヌスの空枯に着きさえすれば自分の囜ぞ垰るこずは出来る。どうするかはこれから考えようず思った。  ふず、男が手にドラむバヌらしき道具を持っおいるのが目に入った。 「あヌ、僕のこずはいいけど、君は䜕しおるんだ䜕か困っおるなら手䌝うけど」  ダスキ゚ルの芖線に気付いた男は「ああ 」ず手元の工具を芋た。 「俺は、車を修理しおいたずころだ。埌ろのタンクが氎挏れしおたからな。もう治ったから問題ない」  男は自身の埌ろを芪指でさした。そちらぞ目を向けるず、倧きな癜いバンが男のすぐ埌ろに停たっおいるのが芋えた。さっきたで自分のこずで粟䞀杯で、その倧きい車がすぐそこに停たっおいるこずに党く気づいおいなかった。癜いボディの䞋偎に黒のラむンが入ったその車は、通垞のバンず比べるずかなり奥行きがあるようだった。どこずなく、䜿い叀した感がある。 「これっお、キャンピングカヌ」 「ああ、そうだ」 「栌奜良いね。旅をしおるんだ」 「いや、今から旅に出るずころだ」 「ふヌん、そうなんだ。じゃあ君はこの街の人なんだね」 「いや、違う。シドニヌは仕事で来ただけで、普段は別の堎所に䜏んでる。䌑暇を取っお、このバンで旅行しながら垰る぀もりだ」 「いいなあそれキャンピングカヌでホリデヌなんお楜しそうだよ、憧れるなあ。どれくらい旅する予定」 「十日ほどだ。家がパヌスの近くなんだが、ちょうどシドニヌからだず倧陞を暪断する圢になる。せっかくだから、りルルに寄ろうかず考えおるずころだ」  男はその少しくたびれた車䜓に手を぀いた。 「こい぀は買ったばかりの䞭叀車だが、たあなんずか走っおくれるだろう」  そう蚀いながらダスキ゚ルの方ぞ顔を向けた男は、蚝しそうにその黄色い目を现めた。 「 どうしお、そんなに笑顔なんだ」  ダスキ゚ルの薄い唇はきれいな䞉日月のように、にんたりずしおいた。  蚝しげな顔をした男を尻目に、ダスキ゚ルはミュヌゞカルでも挔じるようにくるりず回転しながら移動するず、男の埌ろぞたわった。バンに片手を぀くず、空いた手を優雅に広げる。 「人助けをしたくないか」   男は蚝し気な衚情のたた、厚みのある逞しい䜓をダスキ゚ルの方ぞ反転させた。 「 誰の」 「僕だ」  ダスキ゚ルは歌うように答えた。曎に手ぶりを぀けながら続ける。 「このうるわしい哀れな青幎は、圌の呜綱ずなる財垃ずスマヌトフォンを、シドニヌの街にはびこる凶悪なゎミ収集ロボットカヌに今しがた奪われおしたったずころだ。無䞀文になった䞊に連絡手段も断たれお、手元にあるのはパスポヌトず、二週間埌にパヌスを出発するこの飛行機のチケットだけになっおしたった」パスポヌトず航空刞を持った手を仰々しく倩に掲げ、もう片方の手をドラマチックに胞にあおた。「そしお、なす術もなく打ちひしがれおいたずころに、君が颯爜ず珟れた。偶然にも君もパヌスに向かうずいうじゃないか。もしここで、君がほんのちょっず、ほんのちょっずだけこの可哀そうな青幎に情けをかけおくれれば、二週間埌には飛行機に乗っお自分の囜ぞ垰るこずができる」  ダスキ゚ルは優雅なしぐさで今床は䞡手を広げるず、笑みを芋せながら男の顔を芋据えた。 「さあ、助けたくならないか」 「 ぀たり、俺のキャンピングカヌでお前をパヌスたで連れおいけずいうのか」 「その通り」  ダスキ゚ルはりィンクをした。  男は銖をかたむけ、ダスキ゚ルを芋返すず口を開いた。 「 その前に、電話を貞しおやるから家に掛けお事情を説明したらどうだ。り゚スタン・ナニオンを䜿えば海倖送金しおもらえるぞ」  ダスキ゚ルは広げおいた手をおろすず、目をくるりず回した。 「あヌ 実はいた、うちの家族もホリデヌで家を空けおるんだ。みんなでポヌランドのおばあちゃんの家に行っおる」 「じゃあ、その祖母の家に電話を掛ければいい」 「誰が自分以倖の家の電話番号芚えおるっおいうんだ党郚スマホが蚘憶しおくれるじゃないか。たあ そのスマホは今この街のどっかを走っおるロボットカヌの䞭だけど」 「なら、そこにある図曞通に行け。無料で䜿えるパ゜コンが眮いおあるから、それでFacebookでもなんでも䜿っお家族か友達に連絡すれば良い」 「ログむンパスワヌドを芚えおないよ。ずいうか今はなんでも二段階認蚌だから、どっちみちスマホがないずどのSNSにもログむンできない」  男は目を䞊ぞ向けながらため息を぀き、バンに手を぀いた。 「お願いだ、この青い぀ぶらな瞳の、哀れで無力な青幎を助けおくれ」  駄目抌しで続ける。 「じゃないず僕はこの芋知らぬ土地でのたれ死ぬかも 」  懇願するような衚情で、男を䞊目遣いに芋た。  男は少しの間ダスキ゚ルを芋぀め返しおいたが、顔を䞋ぞ向けるず再床ため息を぀いた。片手をバンに眮いたたたもう片方の手でその癜い髪をかき䞊げ、ダスキ゚ルぞ芖線を戻した。 「 ギブアンドテむクだ」 「 うん」 「乗せお欲しければ、お前も䜕か圹に立぀こずをするんだ」 「オッケヌ わかった。たあ、そりゃそうだよね。䜕をすればいい」 「料理はできるか」 「うヌん あんたり。でもパンケヌキなら最高においしいのが䜜れるよ。ふわっふわのや぀」 「䞉食パンケヌキはごめんだ。 車の運転は」 「できる免蚱を持っおないけど」 「それだず意味がないだろ」  男は少し考える玠振りをした。 「じゃあ、車のメンテナンスなんか  出来る蚳ないな」 「たったく知識はないけど、手䌝いなら任せお。前に自分で自転車のパンクを修理したこずがあるんだ」  ダスキ゚ルは埗意げに蚀ったが、そんなこずで説埗されるわけがないずいうように、男は錻から唞り声を出した。  沈黙がおり、たたさっきの鳥が鳎いたのが聞こえた。  その時、ふず男の埌ろに芖線を向けるず、遠くの方で路䞊に攟眮されおいるダスキ゚ルの荷物が目に入った。ゎミ収集車がお気に入りのKANKENのリュックを連れ去ったその堎所で、取り残された倧きいバックパックず、その䞊の薄茶色のギタヌがじっずしおいた。  ダスキ゚ルは男ぞ芖線を戻すず、自信に満ちた顔でにっこりず笑った。 「あず、歌が歌える」 「 音楜は聎かない」 「じゃあ、移動しながら路䞊で歌うよ。それでガ゜リン代を皌ぐのはどう」 「どうだろうな。うたくいくずは思えないが 」 「君は僕の歌を聎いたこずないだろ僕がどれだけ才胜に溢れおるか知ったら、君も玍埗するよ」  ダスキ゚ルは口の䞡端をこれ以䞊ないくらいに持ち䞊げるず、男を芋た。  男はバンに手を぀いたたたしばらく考え蟌んでいたが、小さくため息を぀くず芳念したようにダスキ゚ルを芋返した。 「 分かった、乗せおやる。お前の才胜は知らないが、その埗意な歌で少なくずも自分の飯代は皌ぐんだな。あず料理を教えるから、お前が飯を担圓しろ」 「ああありがずう、完璧だ」  ダスキ゚ルは男に抱き぀いおいた。 「君が良い人だっおこずは䌚った瞬間から分かっおたよ。それに、僕ずいれば楜しい旅になるこず間違いない。パヌスに着く頃には、オヌストラリア玙幣で僕のポケットはいっぱいになっおるから、君にフルコヌスの料理を奢っおあげられる僕ず䞀緒に旅をしお良かったっお絶察に思うよ」  曎に男を匷く抱きしめた。背に回した手から、黒いシャツ越しに男の鍛え䞊げられた筋肉のなめらかさを感じた。ダスキ゚ルの頬に男の柔らかい癜髪が觊れ、ハヌブのようなシャンプヌのかすかな銙りず、ほんの少し汗の匂いがした。 「分かったから、離れろ」  男はうっずおしそうに、䜓にたわされたダスキ゚ルの腕を匕きはがした。 「さっさず荷物を取ᅵᅵᅵおこい。すぐに出発するぞ」 「ああ、今すぐ取っおくる」  ダスキ゚ルは荷物のほうぞ走り出した。先ほどたでの絶望的な気持ちが噓のように消え、信じられないほど心がワクワクしおいた。  あの癜い髪の男ずこれからキャンピングカヌで旅をするのだ。しかもこの旅の䞀番の目的だった、あの倧きな䞀枚岩のりルルも芋に行けるこずになった。これたでの旅で䜜った歌を道䞭で歌っお、自分自身が称賛のコむンを埗るに倀するアヌティストなのか詊す機䌚も埗られた。本物の吟遊詩人になったみたいだ。  ダスキ゚ルは自分の荷物の前たでたどり着くず、バックパックを背負い、ギタヌを手に持った。  ぀い十五分くらい前にこの堎所で、間違いなくこの旅の生呜線だった財垃ずスマヌトフォンを倱ったけれど、そんな事は些现な出来事のような気がした。  空を芋䞊げる。  盞倉わらず倪陜は、元気な光を地䞊に降り泚いでいる。  さっき芋た鮮やかな鳥が、䜕矜も沿道の朚にずたっおいるのが芋えた。ダスキ゚ルを囃すように高い声をあげお鳎いおいる。  こんなに心が匟むような気持ちは初めおだった。  笑顔になるのを抑えられず、ニコニコずしながら男の埅぀癜いキャンピングカヌの方ぞ歩いおいくず、男は車䜓の暪に屈み䜕かやり残した䜜業をしおいるようだった。ダスキ゚ルはバンに手を぀いた。 「よろしくな、ロヌチ」  そう蚀っお、車䜓を励たすように叩く。男が立ち䞊がった。 「ロヌチ」 「この車の名前だよ」 「車に名前は぀けない」 「でもここにそう曞いおある」  ダスキ゚ルはキャンピングカヌの脇腹に貌られたステッカヌを指差した。幅十五センチメヌトルほどの黒色のステッカヌには、ちょっずくすんだ赀色でROACHず印刷されおいた。ヘビメタを思わせるようなゎシック䜓だ。 「バンドステッカヌかなあ、これ」 「前の持ち䞻が貌ったんだろう。俺じゃない」 「いいじゃないか、ロヌチっお。かわいいよ。この車の名前にぎったりだ。名前を぀けた方がもっず愛着が湧いお良いず思うけど」  ダスキ゚ルはむタズラっぜい笑みで男を芋た。男は、錻から唞るような音を挏らすず「 奜きにしろ」ず蚀っお、キャンピングカヌのドアを開けた。乗り蟌もうず片足をかけたずころで、ダスキ゚ルを振り返る。 「そういえば、お前の名前を聞いおなかったな。なんお蚀うんだ」  ダスキ゚ルは目線をステッカヌから男ぞ移すず、笑顔で答えた。 「僕は、ダスキ゚ルだ」顔に笑みをのせたたた聞き返す。「君は」   片足をステップにかけた姿勢のたた、男は尖った八重歯を芋せるず、 「ゲラルトだ」 ず蚀い、その癜く長い髪を揺らしながら、キャンピングカヌに乗り蟌んだ。  ダスキ゚ルも男に続いお勢いよく飛び乗った。  二人の旅が、始たろうずしおいた。
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